#not that this shocks me or anything but it’s kind of crazy to me that people are dismissive about fucking genocide

[zablife]

@call-sign-shark Ahhhh, Shark, I've missed HYE so much!! Seeing the notification for a new chapter made me giddy with anticipation. Now that I've had a chance to read and digest it all, I have some thoughts to share.

Arthur is alive and she's finally learning (most of) the truth! (Tommy is def lying about it being Arthur's decision to leave imo.) Heaven needed to hear this in order to survive in such a fragile state. The way you described her stumbling thru the house had me seriously concerned for her wellbeing 😱

At the beginning, I was slightly confused on the status of Heaven's pregnancy. I believed her to be having a miscarriage during the scene where she saves Arthur so I was overjoyed to learn she didn't lose the baby! I have to admit I was as shocked as Heaven when Tommy admits he knows about the child. It's frightening to think just how attuned he is when it comes to her tone and mannerisms.

It's more than a little sus that Arthur and Heaven aren't being allowed to hide out together. If there was any question as to why, Tommy's not so subtle ways of manipulation reveal his true intentions. Picking fights, making veiled comparisons to her former lover and outright telling her they'd be a better match?!?! Is he insane?? I know the answer to that is yes, but I had no idea he'd unleash this amount of crazy on her so soon 😂

I admit I've dabbled in the fantasy of Heaven x Tommy pairing bc I love messy drama. The moment I read the summary I was holding my breath, waiting for scandal. When you mentioned Amos, I wondered if sentimental longing could turn to intense hate sex with Tommy. But what you delivered was so much better than anything I could have imagined!

The strangulation scene was written to perfection. The dark, perversity of Tommy's request makes it such an intense moment. You've captured the confusing swirl of their emotions beautifully in every touch and glance between them. I can see how Heaven's weakened resolve would melt under that kind of pressure as hate and lust collide. But I loved the moment when she chooses not to give into him despite the overwhelming need for comfort. It's such a testament to her love for Arthur!

I adore the dramatic ending to the chapter with its sense of deep foreboding. I don't want to believe Tommy's assertion and yet it rings true considering the torturous way in which they're bound to one another. I'm not sure what to expect next in their saga, but I'm desperate for more!

Heaven in Your Eyes || Tommy Shelby x You

Summary: For safety purpose and following Arthur's death, you are forced to live under your enemy and unforgiving brother-in-law's roof. It's only you and Tommy between the dreadful walls of Arrow house where grief, hatred, and attraction blend.

some musical background to read + the song that inspired it.

Words: 6.5k

TW: angst, rocky dynamic, pinning, sexual tension, graphic description of violence, strangulation, very very strong sexual innuendos, mention of blood, murder and grief, alteration of canon events + time.

Notes:

✞ Heaven in Your Eyes is an Arthur Shelby story but considering what happens to him in this part of S4, this chapter and the next one will be entirely focused on Reader/Heaven's relationship with Tommy.

✞ This is chapter 17 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

Your pale aquamarine eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling, far too different from the ceiling of your house in Watery Lane. The soft glow of morning light filtered through the dark and heavy curtains of the guest bedroom that was bathed in warm shadows. The bedding was too smooth, giving you the unpleasant impression that the mattress was slowly but surely swallowing you whole. As for the room itself, it was too silent, with no trace of the reassuring sounds or smells of your own home, like the floral fragrance of the lily of the valley perfume Arthur sprayed on your pillow each night before sleeping, fully aware that it reminded you of your mother.

A little cry escaped your lips when you turned your head towards the half-hidden window; its blinding light making your head throbbed painfully. You tried to move but your whole body ached, like a cruel and dull echo of the chaos that had ripped your world apart the night before. The chaos who took Arthur, your sweet Arthur, from you.

 Arthur.  With your heart pounding in your chest to the rhythm of invisible drums, you sat up – certainly a bit too violently. As the room spun around you, you clawed the fabric of the blanket not to fall back on the bed. Breathe, Hev. Just breathe, you told yourself. Exhaling slowly through your nostrils, you waited a bit until the dizziness and nausea became bearable and only then did you proceed to scan your surroundings. The place you had woken up in was a spacious bedroom, impeccably furnished yet so sparsely decorated that it ended up cold and impersonal. Just like a furniture store. But despite the unfamiliar setting, the peculiar smell of wood and faint traces of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air rung a bell. You recognized the man who owned it immediately.

Arrow House?

Tommy.

The memories violently surged back. The images of Arthur’s blood, the frenzied struggled to save him, the stabbing of a first Italian, then the murder of another, all of this leading to the moment you had lost consciousness. What the hell happened after? Why were you in Arrow House? Where was Arthur? Questions buzzed in your mind like a hive of furious hornets crashing against your skull. Through the fog, you thought you remembered Thomas’ low voice and arms wrapping you just before you fainted, but you weren’t sure – so came the necessity of finding out. Your sly hands shook as you scrambled out of the bed, even though the cold surface of the floor managed to ground you when your feet touched its polished wood.

You needed to find Tommy and ask for an explanation – or excavate that same explanation from him by using sheer strength and torture if you had to. Yes, you needed to know if Arthur made it. If he was safe, because he had to be safe after everything you did. He had to be safe, or else what would be left of you beside an empty shell? Wasting no time, you rushed out of the room like a fury without minding your poor state. In fact, your legs wobbled beneath your weight as you pushed the door open and made your way through the cool hallway, head spinning with disorientation. For sure, staying in bed would have been the best option but, as was the case that night you fled from your little town in the mountains, a combination of rage and panic controlled you. You braced yourself against the wall, your fingers curling into the wood and tapestry for balance. Each meters reached took a disproportionate amount of effort, each step felt unsteady. Your determination might be spotless, but your body betrayed as you swayed, to the extent that you careened into the wall with a dull thud from time to time. And when it weren’t the walls, it was the uneven carpet that made you almost trip. That damn corridor seemed endless, but the more you walked the sharper the scent of Tommy’s tobacco reached your senses and lifted the haze you were embedded in.

Little King Shelby was there.

That sole observation swept away the remnant of sickness you felt, your energy all regained as your steps, usually light and ethereal, echoed through the expensive house of Arrow house – a sumptuous mansion whose beauty only equaled its claustrophobic and maddening emptiness. The grand, austere décor loomed all around you in rich, dark wood paneling, chandeliers and old paintings staring from their frames. Ironically enough, it wasn’t the old and slightly obscure ones that made you feel uncomfortable, but rather Grace’s gigantic portrait. She was overhanging the house, her piercing blue eyes seemingly glistening in the sunlight and judging your every move.  Silently asking you what the hell you were doing in her home. A shiver ran down your spine, as if you could sense her presence, heavy and utterly sad, sipping through all the walls.  Arrow House might carry a distinct scent of polished wood and smoke, but beneath it lingered something as heavy as the Grace’s portrait – sorrow. It clung to the air like a haunting memory, subtle but inescapable, much like what Tommy himself hid under his expensive after-shave.

Finally, you reached the heavy double doors of Tommy’s office, your heart a relentless thud in your tight chest. Usually, little King Shelby despised being disturbed when he was in his study but you couldn’t care less considering the emergency of the situation – and you wouldn’t have cared in a more casual one. Without the slightest hesitation, you threw the doors open and your voice, already sharp, resounded in the room like a tigress’ roar.

“Where is he?” You demanded, as your pale iris, which were burning with Hell’s fire, surveyed the room until they found Tommy behind his desk.  His ice-cold stare met yours with a calm that only pushed you further to the edge of fury, “Where is Arthur?!”

The blue-eyed demon might have many flaws, but stupidity wasn’t one. He knew you would make a mess when you woke up so he had spent the last few hours patiently waiting for the chaos to storm, a glass of whiskey for sole companion to brace your thunder. He let out a sigh and reached for that same glass, which had remained untouched on his desk until now. After a sip, he leaned back on his chair, his eyes wandering on you as if he was calculating every possible outcome of your conversation.

Then only he spoke.

“Heaven, would you calm down ay?” He said with a smooth yet firm voice that carried an irking placidity. How could he be so serene after his brother got attacked and butchered? Was it the same Tommy who, overwhelmed with emotions you recalled, tried to help you last night? Or was he some kind of evil twin, who locked up his good brother somewhere in Arrow House most of the time?

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”  You snapped, walking toward him with your first clenched and stopping in front of his desk while he was still sitting, “After everything that happened last night, I wake up here and you think you can just sit there and act like this is normal? Tell me where Arthur is now.” You spat, your words like a winter blizzard.

Tommy stubbed his cigarette in the crystal ashtray that was on his deck before he stood, sky-blue eyes narrowed as he moved around slowly around the furniture. Your whole little body tense when he approached, his sole presence irking you.

“Arthur…” He started, his voice drawling, “Had to make a quick exit. We had to make him disappear for his own safety.”  His statement was heavy with the implications of danger and truth he didn’t wish to fully reveal. Tommy and his little secrets, you thought bitterly. Your jaw clenched, your icy eyes narrowing as you tried to swallow your burning fury in favor of a cold, quiet, anger.

“Disappear? Is he alive? Where is he?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you any more information.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing on you. Was he serious? Momentarily stunned by the audacity of the Peaky Blinders’ boss, you blinked. He couldn’t be serious.

“And I’m just supposed to accept that dumb answer? After everything I went through trying to save him?”

Tommy moistened quickly his lips with the tip of his pink tongue, his face an unreadable mask. Still, you could see through it, and you knew he was searching for his words, “It’s not about accepting or not. We suggested the idea to him, and he agreed. Arthur made his choice – he’s lying low, and right now, that’s the best place for him.”

A slap across your face would have been less painful that what he was saying. Trembling with frustration, you shoved your fist into his chest. Tommy didn’t move nor show any hint of paint. If anything, he just let you lash out at him.

 “So what—you’re just hiding him? Keeping him locked away while I’m left in the dark?”

“I’m not hiding him. Not keeping him from you. He’s the one who decided to leave.”  

“You’re lying. That’s just another of your fucked up games.” You hissed, plump lips curling and revealing your sharp canine teeth you dreamt of sinking into your brother-in-law’s throat.

Arthur had left. Without saying anything. Without a fucking warning. Without a fucking 'hi, I'm alive love". You couldn't believe it.

Tommy shook his head, cold but resolute, “I’m not playing. There are people out there looking for him. And if they know you’re alone and vulnerable, those same people will come after you, too.”

Another blow to his chest. The charming gangster closed his eyes a few seconds and exhaled loudly through his nose to swallow the pain.

“Go fuck yourself! I’m going to find him and murder those bastards myself!”

When Tommy reopened his eyes, his large and warm hand grabbed your wrist suddenly in mid-action and kept you from punching his strong chest again.

“Do you think Arthur would want you to risk your life? Do you think I’d let you go on a rampage with my niece or nephew in your belly?”

Your breath suddenly caught, the mention of your pregnancy striking a far too sensitive nerve. With your eyes wide-opened in surprise, you studied Tommy with an expression of pure shock on your seraphic face. How could he possibly know about the baby?

“You nearly lost that kid,” Tommy’s intense gaze softened as he continued, his husky voice dropping lower and his grip loosening around your frail wrist.

“How?” You whispered, your lower lip trembling.

“Polly is not the only one who can sense things eh,” Apart from being gifted with animals, Tommy had a sensibility you had never expected. He had known about the baby the same day you had talked to him about keeping Arthur busy during their meeting. It was the way you touched your belly sometimes, the way you had acted more feral than usually – which he hadn’t thought possible, “But that’s not the point. If you leave, you’ll risk everything. Arthur wants you safe, and right now safe means staying here.”

The air between you grew thick with desperation and frustration. You gritted your teeth so harshly you wouldn’t have been surprised if they would all broken, but it was the only thing that helped you biting down the urge to scream.

“So, you’re telling me I have no other choice than stay?” Your voice wasn’t loud, but its defiance and hatred cut as deep as the razor blades he kept in his cap. To be fair, the fact he talked about the baby made you falter more than you’d wish to admit. Your shoulders slumped in reluctant defeat.

“Yes,” Tommy said simply, leaving no room for argument, “You stay here, under my roof, until this fucking mess is sorted out and until it’s safe for both you and the baby. I don’t expect you to like it, but you just have to accept that situation.”  He finally released your wrist in a surprisingly soft gesture – the fire of your fury had been so bright you had completely forgotten that Tommy had been holding you during your entire exchange. And now that he had stepped back, you realized that his touch had been grounding, and you found yourself missing it.

“It will be temporary, I promise.”  He added, heading back to his office to grab his whiskey and gulp it down. The glass chimed when he put it back on the wooden surface.

Your fruity lips pressed into a tight line, your gaze falling to the floor. That burning anger that had fueled you earlier felt dulled, swallowed by exhaustion and creeping darkness settling deep in within the marrow of your bones. As much as you wanted to fight, to demand answers and storm out of the cage Arrow House was, you knew deep down that Little King Shelby was right. The stakes were too high and your strength, for once, too fragile. This was with reluctance and resignation that you looked up to meet Tommy’s eyes.

“Fine,” You muttered, “But don’t think this means I trust you.”

“It wouldn’t have crossed my mind.”  Tommy made a little tilt with his head while raising one brow, “So you’ll stay ay?”

“Hm. But I’ll get the fuck out of here whenever it will be safer. ”

A little glint of something — approval? Satisfaction? — flickered briefly in his eyes, “As long as you respect the terms of this arrangement, that’s all that matters, Devil.”

With a final, deathly glance, you turned on your heels and left the room, feeling the burn of his scorching gaze on your back. Staying with him was an awful idea, but for now you had no choice but to play along.

To abide by the rules he would set.

The fire flickered low in Arrow House’s main yet darkened living room, the dancing flames casting their undulating shadows along the wooden walls. Wrapped in Arthur’s long coat, you sat curled up in the armchair closest to the fire in a vain attempt to warm your cold soul up. A glass of whiskey was in your small hands, barely tasted. There was exquisite alcohol here, at least. To be honest, you hadn’t planned on staying up this late but killing time here was better than tossing and turning in bed, feeling near suffocating at the sensation of the bedsheet around you. A little sigh escaped your plump lips, whose skin had been picked at until you had bled at the bottom right. Sleep had been quite elusive ever since Arthur’s death – or rather, absence. A deliberate absence that gnawed at you, leaving you restless and hollow the same way you did after the tragedy that took your family from you on a cold October night.  The same way it did when you had left your former fiancé.

Another chill ran down your spine as the events that brought you to Arthur and what followed played in your head like a broken record: you felt like only a few days had passed from your unexpected encounter in the church to the awful evening during which you had held your husband bloodied and limp body. And with the memories came an even more aching revelation: all the people around you always ended up dead or hurt in the end, whether you pulled the trigger or not.

At this moment you would have given everything just to switch your brain off and let someone handle the rest. Everything to be in Amos’ reassuring arms, his tender velvet voice whispering in your ear that everything was going to be fine.

A thought that occurred for the second time, the first appearing when you danced with Luca Changretta.

The door suddenly creaked, the darkness of Arrow House’s corridor subsiding as Tommy appeared in the orange light with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His steps were heavy and his mesmerizing turquoise eyes slightly glazed. As was always the case when you breathed the same air as this asshole, your body tense entirely, every muscle ready to pounce on him and shred him to piece. However, you only raised your head, your pale eyes falling on his face. What you saw made you frown: he was well into a drink himself, judging by the loose expression he wore and the very faint flush on his salient cheekbones.

Despite being intoxicated, the sharpness in his gaze didn’t dull when he spotted you by the fire. If anything, it intensified.

Ah! It was still the same old and hateful Thomas Shelby you knew.

“Couldn’t stay in your room, could you?” You muttered, your tone soft but laced with a mix of sarcasm and intrigue as the man approached. Tommy didn’t answer though and sunk onto the couch opposite you.

“This is my house, remember?” He retorted, husky voice almost making the air rumble around him. A few days had passed since you argued in his office. A few days during which you mainly stayed locked up in the room, stubbornly sulking.

“And believe me, I’m counting down the hours until I can leave it,” He met his gaze when you finished speaking but, as surprising as it was, Tommy didn’t find defiance in your eyes. Only fatigue. For once, the insolent brat you usually were seemed too exhausted to bite. "I’d rather not be here, but we don’t always have the choice.” You had wanted to add that the choice was scarce when Tommy Shelby was around, but you didn’t. Not only would it be pointless, but you weren’t in the mood to fight.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, “You’re right. Just like I didn’t have a choice when Arthur took you in, dragging all the trouble that followed,” He paused, attentively studying how your seraphic traits expressed your spitefulness at his words, then pointed at you with his finger “Thought you were above it all, didn’t you?”

“Above what?”

“Above everything. Untouchable. But here we are. Both haunted.”

Your grip tightened on your glass. So strongly you almost snapped it. “Don’t you dare blame me for what happened to him, Thomas. I know you’re used to do so but don’t fucking do it this time.” You warned.

Tommy’s blue eyes darkened as he looked away, shaking his head as if he had just remembered something awfully painful. The same thing that was plaguing your dreams: Arthur and his almost severed throat, “I don’t blame you for that – not for the attack nor for trying to save him.” He admitted. Wow, Tommy not blaming you for something was unexpected!

The gangster sighed and finally brought the cigarette to his mouth, rolling the filter onto his lower lip first before lighting it. Then, he threw the lighter on the small table near him and took a long drag. You carefully observed him all the while, afraid he would jump at your throat if you ought to lose your focus for one microsecond, “But it doesn’t change what came after, does it? You’ve done nothing but bring trouble to me. To all of us.”  He added with a hoarse voice, punctuating his sentence by blowing the smoke noisily. His voice didn’t carry the slightest aggressiveness though, only exhaustion. Yes, you were both drained by this fucking life.

Your jaw clenched, his word cutting deep. “I tried to save him with everything I had, Thomas. I’ve always tried to do my best for this family. Tried my best to make it work. But you –” You sneered, “You’re so determined to hate me that you won’t see it.”

Tommy snorted, the ghost of a desperate smile floating on his lips before it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The look in his eyes was hard as steel, unyielding, but utterly melancholic. “Save him? Yes, it’s true, but you think that changes a thing? He was better off with you from the start.”

Things were always like this with Tommy. Even though you told yourself that you weren’t going to give in to your anger, the blue-eyed demon always knew which buttons to push to annihilate your self-control. And even if you didn’t want to play his twisted game, you always ended up getting pulled in. Your heart pounded in your tight chest, anger sparking beneath grief and the pain. Driven by a furious rage only he could fuel, you stood up from the armchair, Arthur’s black coat falling on the floor as you moved. “You don’t get to stand there and act like you know what is best for him. You only know what’s convenient for you. It’s always about you, innit?”

Following your movement, Tommy also got up from the couch to face you, cigarette hanging from his mouth and icy turquoise eyes burning fiercely. “What do you think you know about about me? Or about Arthur, for that matter?”

“About Arthur? Everything. About you? More than I needed to know.”  Your body moved instinctively, taking a step closer to him in utter defiance. “You really think you’re that unfathomable, do you? You think that no one except Thomas Shelby can understand what’s happening in this twisted and scheming mind of him, right?  No, let me correct my mistake, even you cannot understand yourself.”  Trying to calm down sheer anger and the acid you were made of, you took a quick gulp of whisky from your glass before putting it on the table.  Once the glass left your mouth, your lips curled in a mean smirk.

“I know the man you are because my former fiancé was cut from the same cloth. An egocentric criminal with bulging ambition, a far too high sense of self esteem and a greed beyond words. A man who dragged his loved ones down to him without even realizing it. But Tom, you are a poison. And even with good intentions and genuine love, everything you touch ends up rotten. Just like you.”

And just like him.

Your voice sounded like an angelic lilt as you spoke, but there was something horrifying in its softness: a belittling tenderness that was only aimed at mocking and hurting.

Tommy’s jaw clenched, dimples digging in his already sharp cheeks. Bitter, he stubbed his cigarette against the couch’s armrest and threw it right onto the carpet, not minding the damage he just did. For fuck’s sake, he had enough money to buy a new one. Even a new mansion had he wanted to.The tension that was floating in the room became thicker, intoxicating, as your cutting remarks threw sparks into the gasoline of his soul. One could even wonder if the crackling sound of the fire really came from the hearth or if they were made by the flames of your hatred. 

The gangster didn’t reply, yet his eyes were locked with yours, speaking a silent challenge none of you was willing to back down from. He might have remained mute, but his body didn’t. All of sudden, he walked closer to you, reducing the distance step by step until he stood in front of you only from a few inches, fierce and unafraid. He was so close that you could feel the warmth of his bare chest radiating off him, gently warming up your frozen skin without even touching it. The musky scent of his after shave, worn off by the shower but still strong enough for you to catch its fragrances, mixed with his whiskey breath.

“You think I’m scared of you?” You whispered only for him to hear, light tremor of defiance in your voice. “Be careful Thomas, you know I could kill you right here right now.”  You spat, the warm fire reflecting its dim light against the pearly white enamel of your sharp canine teeth and making your ivory mane shine like moonlight.

“It’s Tommy.” He corrected. The way you kept using his full name was starting to get on his nerves, especially after how delicate his nickname had sounded, melting on your tongue like sugar, the day you threw yourself in his arms, mourning John. Crying real tears and not staged ones.

“No, it’s Thomas. You said it yourself years ago.”  You cut him, the name as sharp as the shards of a broken mirror, whose cracked surface reflected Tommy on one side, and your own being on the other, like two perfectly intricated parts of the same puzzle.

A short silence hovered above the room, sharing the space with the electric air as you glared at each other, waiting for the next unpredictable move the other could make.

The blue-eyed demon didn’t bother picking up your little taunt, but rather went on with what you said just before, “Kill me…” He repeated, leaning over you. His void pupils relished every trait of your doll face, “That’s what you want ay?”  Tommy’s voice was dark and daring, but it held a flicker of something different. Something more dangerous. As he spoke, his husky and hushed tone feeding the electric tension, you both stood locked in that heated moment, your breaths mingling in the space between you. Why were you realizing how close you were, both invading each other’s private space, only now? 

This time, Tommy’s expression shifted again and before you could react, he reached for you, his strong calloused hands wrapped around your wrists with a firm yet tender grip and pulled you even closer. “Do it”, he urged in a low growl as he guided your hands around his neck. “Show me how strong you really are without that evil magic of yours...”

Your heart raced, missing a vertiginous beat, as your sly fingers curled instinctively around the hard line of his throat. There was a thrill in the danger, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins when you felt the steady thump of his pulse under the soft pulp of your thumb, a reminder that Tommy Shelby was indeed a mortal man. Without control of any sort, your eyes fell on his throat, which was a striking canvas of both strength and vulnerability, the sinewy muscles taut beneath his smooth, pale skin. The very, very thin layer of sweat which cover him glistened under the dim light, attracting your attention even more on the angular lines of his jaw. Your breath stopped for a few seconds when you noticed how the coolness of his complexions contrasted sharply with the heat that was radiating off him.  Tommy Shelby was a walking paradox, as cold as ice, as hot as fire. Just like you.

With a surge of anger, you tightened your hold and let your nails dig into his skin. “You think this is a game?”

“Life ain’t nothing but a cruel game, Devil” he replied with a hitching breath and a light smirk dancing on his seductive lips as he leaned more into your grip. The gangster exuded something primal you couldn’t really describe. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too—the tension, the way we keep pushing each other.”

Your faces were now inches apart, heat pooling in your body and overwhelming you.

 “You’re insane,” you hissed, a tremor of uncertainty creeping into your voice despite your bravado. You had tried to hide it but it was vain and you knew it didn’t go unnoticed.

“And yet here we are,” he murmured, his growling voice turning into a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. A raspy lilt that made all fibers of your being vibrate like a piano’s strings during a symphony of chaos and desire. Caught off guards by the intensity of his gaze, your grip faltered just a moment before your thumb pressed a bit more on his windpipe. The noise his breath made as well as the way he sharply sucked in for air left no doubt on the power of your grip – you were slowly but surely squeezing the air out of him and, this time, you didn’t need any kind of magic to do so. It made the whole act even more exciting. Suffocatingly intense. 

At this point, you were convinced that the black-haired gangster, with his intoxicating smell of whiskey, cigarettes, leather and expensive after shave, would back up but he did quite the opposite. Leaning forwards, his lips brushed against your ear with a tenderness you didn’t suspect he possessed. Another shiver ran through you, and you hated him even more for enabling this reaction. “Harder…” He breathed, voice already muffled, “ Y—You want this as much as I—I do.”

In that moment, the storm of your usually muffled emotions collided. Rage, desire, fear, hatred, loneliness, doubts, lust, all intertwined with the numbing effect of alcohol, blurred the line between Tommy and you even further.

“Harder, like your former fiancé loved, right?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me your – yourself ay.”

Lost in the intensity of everything, you felt the control slipping from your fingertip along with the wanting to fight him. Tommy Shelby was sliding under your skin and the undeniable urge to give in was too much for you to resist. And somehow, you didn’t want to. What he made you felt was too similar to what you had lost when slashing Amos’ face and running away the day of your wedding.

This was how your grip suddenly tightened around him, your slow choking turning into the verge of deadly strangulation. In reply, Tommy let out a muffled moan escape his lips and his strong hands, scarred by murder, grab your frail hips. So frail he felt like he could crush them easily and break you in half.

Your eyes maybe whole, But the story I'm told is your heart is as black as night.

As the room started to dangerously spin around him, the lack of oxygen building up gradually, the necessity of words faded away. Giving in, you leaned too and gently rubbed your cheek against your brother-in-law’s while still strangling him. Your lashes fluttered at the silky sensation of his perfectly shaved skin, your nerves sparkling with sensations at the lines of his sharp facial bones. His fire skin against the frost that constituted yours was ecstatic. Another little husky yet muffled moan echoed in the living room, his touch feeling as good as a shot of heroin and as brutal as getting crushed by a train. 

“Hev—” Tommy’s muscular body suddenly dropped to its knees, unable to hold his weight anymore.  At first you thought he would finally give up and admit he couldn’t take it anymore but the black-haired gangster didn’t. His rough hands didn’t leave your waist but rather pulled you closer, as if he couldn’t bear a single inch standing between you. The two turquoise gems that he called eyes locked onto yours — unfaltering and desperate. Tommy exhaled a shaky breath and surrendered himself fully to your touch. You wanted to kill him? So be it, he thought.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, fascinated for he looked so weak, so… willingly at your mercy that everything around you blurred, your focus only on him. Him and his freckles. Him and the too-perfect traits of his face from his adorable nose to his slightly chapped lips. Him and the sight of what you could be together.

Your lips maybe sweet such that I can't compete, But your heart is as black as night.

A far away cry resounded in the back of your head, pleading you to put a stop to this folly, but you were far too embedded in a primal trance to mind it. 

 Tommy’s head lowered until his cheek pressed against your belly, his arms snaking around your waist in an intimate, blazing embrace. And just like that it wasn’t a fight anymore; it was something else. The same thing you were both desperately pushing away for years — what fueled the vitriol of his hatred. For him and his twisted and tired mind, your deadly hands around his throat weren’t hurting him anymore, they were granting him a momentary relief from his untamable demons. The dirt couldn’t touch him here, your seraphic yet murderous aura keeping it from burying him alive. You strangled him, but he felt like he had never breathed this freely for a long, very long time. 

Soon the static hug turned into a sensual one, with Tommy softly rocking you in a way so soothing that you couldn’t help but bit your juicy lower lip. For a moment you both stayed like that, your body petrified and your hands still squeezing the air out of him while his scorching breath fanned over your belly when he moaned, sipping through the thin fabric of your silk nightgown. It was only after a while that all of Tommy’s energy fled from him. Now he hed had reached his limits. You felt the gangster waver, then he fell back onto the living room floor, dragging you along in his fall. You simply followed, letting him pull you on top to make you straddle him. A firework exploded into you when your hips collided together, your beings only separated by the thin layer of your lace thong and the fabric of his trousers. 

I don't know why it came along at such a perfect time, But if I let you hang around I'm bound to lose my mind.

Beneath you, Tommy’s body was entirely tensed, his breath hitching in difficulty, mouth gasping for air and a vein on his forehead pumping blood furiously. Yet, his hypnotic turquoise eyes didn’t waver from you except occasionally when he rolled them back in pure ecstasy. You shut your eyes closed, squeezing them very tight, unable to hold his gaze anymore when his hips started to sensually roll under you, the feeling of his hard length making you gasp.

“Tommy… No.” You thought you had spoken with a stern tone but your voice had been nothing but a whisper that melted in a moan and, consequently, he didn’t stop. Quite the opposite, he kept rubbing against you, your hips dancing together in perfect rhythm and intensifying when he felt the warmth pooling between your legs and the small, damp spot on your sinful undergarment. It was too much for him to bear — Tommy growled, a low and primal noise that came from the depths of his soul, and his hips bucked under you. In a final scream of intense pleasure he came, stars waltzing behind the blackness of his eyelid and the mighty hands of God ripping all his suicidal thought from him just enough time to finally be at peace.

Peace, at last. He thought.

Shocked, confused and caught in the haze of the moment, you finally released your grip and freed his throat before curling up in a ball in his arms, trembling. 

“I’m fine.” He stuttered, panting, as if he had read through your concerns.

As you lay entwined on the floor, both of you breathless and tangled in each other’s arms as if your life depended on it, the silence of the room grew thick with unspoken desire and barely bridled resentment.

Would life be easier if you’d give in for good? Would he be the one, strong and steady, guiding you and protecting you? Could he be the one ably to finally heal that open wound your attachment to Amos was?

No.

Tommy could never be your solace.

You would never let him be.

Your hand tenderly reached his face. They lingered on his perfectly carved jaw to trace faint lines across his skin as though you were discovering him for the very first time. Had he always been so pretty? The soft caress of your fingers almost made him purr, but he was still panting too much to say something more judging by how his chest rapidly fell with each shallow breath. Only after a few minutes Tommy looked up at you, the eyes that once stared at you with disgust and burning rage now softened – though the remnant of something dark and fierce burnt inside his black pupils. 

He finally broke the silence with a voice both rough and tender, “You feel it ay? The weight of it. The weight of us.” It wasn’t a question for he knew he was right, no matter how hard you would deny it. He pulled you closer to make your embrace even more intimate until your nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck — his perfume soothing you, lulling you.

'Cause your hands maybe strong but the feelings are all wrong, Your heart is as black as night.

“Tommy. This has to stop.” You said slowly, fingers still caressing his face with sheer tenderness, “You have to let it go.”  Fighting against the torpor the sweet comfort of his arms brought you, you raised your head to plunge your gaze into his.  In response, Tommy let out a sigh and one of his hands found yours, intertwining your fingers together.

“You think he loves you the way I could?” His other hand moved to your face to tilt your chin towards him, keeping you from fleeing his vulture eyes which were filled with longing he didn’t bother to hide anymore, “I’m not letting you go.” 

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest at the thought that Tommy would never stop haunting you. 

He was talking exactly like Amos. Using the exact same words and sickly-sweet tone.

“Don’t say dumb shit like this.” You retorted, the warmth you had granted him with turning to freezing arctic ice again. With that being said, you gathered all your remaining strength to overcame the comforting haze he instilled in you, and managed to snatch yourself from his arms. You needed to leave this fucking room now. Surprised, Tommy tried to hold you, to keep you from leaving him but you had been too quick. Defeated, the gangster hauled himself with his forearms against the carpet and frowned.

“You know we’re meant to be.”

“And what are we meant to be Tommy?” You sneered, glaring at him from above your bony shoulder, “Can you tell me?!”

Your heart is as black… As mine.

“Each other’s death.”

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0082 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastic @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996@vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature @jjovin3221 @randomcreator-09 @weepingdreammarvel @meadowshelby

[only-omo]

i know this has been said before but can we really go in depth on this

characters who are so incredibly skilled at pretending they dont have to pee that no one has any idea until they are suddenly wetting

characters who are actually almost painfully perceptive, but even they are shocked into silence as their friend just randomly starts peeing like its cool

and of course its only sudden to everyone else, poor victim themself has actually spent the past hour at least, if not more, doing everything they can to not flood themselves on the spot, but not anything that could give them away even slightly, so the desperation felt would be crazy extreme

they would probably start slowly leaking at some point, as they arent doing anything (except for mostly futile muscle clenching) physical to help them hold at all, and at that point theyll probably switch from trying to properly hold it, to just trying to be discreet about it. trying to hide any growing wet spots, trying not to go despondent and stay engaged so that people dont catch on, literally holding conversations as urine slowly runs down their legs and not really doing anything to stop it, but just trying to keep it slow and quiet, and above anything else, keep any clues of whats happening out of their expression and body language.

maybe they manage to be discreet the whole time, and no one ever even finds out what happened right in front of them.

or they manage to wet discreetly, but completely throw everyone off at a slightly later point, when someone suddenly notices their soaked pants, and cannot recall the last time any of them interacted with any liquids that could have potentially spilled, so they inquire. and now the victim can either come up with some poor excuse that maybe people probably dont believe, or they just come clean, rather sheepishly despite their nonchalant demeanor about it, that they did, in fact, piss themself, and it was actually a few minutes ago that it even happened

or they manage to kinda hold on despite leaking, enough to stretch their bladder to its proper limit, leading them to have a very noticeable, rather loud accident. maybe for some reason everyones attention was already on them, for something simple, like being asked if they want to order a drink or stuff like that, but they can no longer keep up the act, starting with just a long nervous pause, no one else able to figure out why the question asked poses such a conundrum to them.

after a long-ish moment, the victim would mutter out something, maybe an apology, maybe just weak noises of defeat, as the floodgates finally break, and they start wetting forcefully and messily.

theres something about more public wettings, especially if not even slightly anticipated, that is just the most thrilling. it can get to be so humiliating that it makes even me, as an omo enthusiast, cringe with embarrassment. but its the fact that, no matter how much anybody cringes, there is nothing that that person can do to stop what is happening. it is their reality and they have to deal with it as it is, even when its so humiliating it feels stupid

and you know that this kind of accident would be at the peak of max embarrassment, it doesnt matter if the people around them are understanding or mocking or what, the sudden attention on the one thing theyd been trying to avoid will send their brain over the edge of functioning, and the best they can do is just hide their face and wait for someone else to do something

[idolomantises]

I’m gonna be honest I think this entire election cycle has exposed how incredibly racist and performatively progressive a lot of white liberals are lmfao

[vigilskeep]

i need to wynnepost. somebody has to

[californiaquail]

anyone else feeling fundamentally incapable of adjusting to society. also just discovered there's a 30 tag limit which i can't believe i've never hit before

[iwoulddieforienzo]

Don’t you hate it when you randomly remember a fanfiction you read ages ago and are abruptly overtaken with the need to find it again. Agony.

[theladyshenanigan]

I think one of the hardest things to explain about getting shut down often when you were young, is that you learn to shut yourself down before you can even get your hopes up.

Everything is prohibitive. Cost, time, energy.

You're trained not to enjoy things. Nice shoes, art supplies, thread, fabric, tools. Because "what happens if there's an emergency later and you don't have it?"

So you just sit on your hands, unable to do anything.

I enjoy making things, I just keep forgetting that I CAN make them.

[confinesofmy]

when i feel bad time passes sooo slowly like i've been having some kind of episode for a week and i'm getting really worried but i remember at therapy on tuesday that it had just started the day before and i didn't yet know it was going to be A Thing so has it been over a week or has it been three days? what's even happening why do i feel like this. i don't even feel real.

[kikuism]

am i the only one who thought the inheritance games was just okay

[jentlemahae]

-

[itsalwaysdark]

tangentially prev i literally used to get stressed out when i was a kid bc like i knew animals had different lifespans than people and id lie awake and id be like . if a deer was born in the wild at the same moment as me itd probably be dead by now . and id get so stressed out abt it

[technicolorxsn]

kinda scared of a friend of mine bc I swear everytime I run into her she's surrounded by 2-5 people and they're totally different people from the ones surrounding her last time

[soobnny]

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

[starsenha]

HALLOWEEN NIGHT / L.H

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x harddom!heeseung

Genre ◊ SMUT, established relationship

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), kinda roleplay, chocking, lots of cursing, degradation, fingering, lots and lots of dirty talk, bigdick!hee, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, against a wall

Word count ◊ 5,2k

Summary ◊ it was halloween and you decided to stay home with your boyfriend. you thought it would be a quiet movie night, until you were talking and you told him serial killers kinda turn you on.

a/n: 😀😀 hee has me on a chokehold recently sooooooo, enjoy!

It was a chilly Halloween night, and you and your boyfriend Heeseung had decided to spend it in the cozy warmth of your apartment. While the rest of the world was out attending costume parties, trick-or-treating, or watching horror movies, you both opted for a more intimate and relaxed night in. Candles flickered around the living room, and the scent of pumpkin-spice lattes hung in the air. The windows were cracked open just enough to let the cool breeze sneak in, adding to the autumnal ambiance. You sat across from each other on the couch, your legs curled under a thick blanket as you sipped on wine, engaged in casual conversation. 

But tonight, the conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

You had always been open with Heeseung, never hiding your thoughts or desires. Tonight was no exception. As the topic wandered from one thing to another, you finally admitted something you’d kept buried for a while. 

“I’ve always been… kind of into serial killers,” you said, your voice low but steady, your gaze meeting his as if daring him to be shocked. “I know it sounds crazy, but there's just something about it, something thrilling. Dangerous.”

Heeseung’s brows shot up in surprise. He wasn’t naive about your personality — you had always shown him you were more than the "good girl" everyone assumed you were on campus. He loved that side of you, the one that craved excitement and darkness. But this? This was new. He leaned back slightly, his lips curling into an amused grin.

“Oh?” he said, his voice deepening with curiosity. “Serial killers, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip, feeling a little heat rise to your cheeks. But you didn’t feel embarrassed. Not with him. “I find it… hot. Sexy, even. Knives, the thrill of being hunted. It just does something to me.”

Heeseung blinked, clearly processing what you had just said, but there was no judgment in his eyes. If anything, his expression only became more intrigued. He let out a short laugh, shaking his head slightly. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

“I know,” you said, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “Does it freak you out?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Not at all. I mean, I always knew you had a wild side, but damn.”

He scooted closer to you on the couch, the blanket shifting as he moved. There was something darker, more intense in his eyes now. As if a switch had flipped. You could feel the shift in the atmosphere, your heart pounding a little harder as his fingers grazed your thigh.

Then he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice lowering to a near-whisper. “What if I were a killer, and you were my next victim? What would you do?”

The question sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just his words but the way he said them — his tone dripping with menace, yet still teasing. The line between playful and dangerous blurred instantly, your mind spinning as your pulse quickened. You swallowed, your voice trembling with excitement.

“I-I guess I’d run,” you said, almost breathless.

Heeseung smirked, his eyes flashing with something darker. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding it just tight enough to make you feel the tension. “You’d run? Good. I’d chase you. And when I catch you, I’d make sure you knew just how much trouble you’re in.”

Your breath hitched. You were entirely caught up in the moment, the shift in energy sending a thrill through your body. He was so good at this, so convincing. It was like his entire demeanor had transformed. The Heeseung you knew, the sweet, playful boyfriend, had vanished — replaced by someone darker. Someone dangerous.

“Run,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. His grip on your wrist loosened just enough for you to slip free. 

You didn’t think twice. You bolted off the couch, your heart pounding in your chest as you darted towards the hallway. It felt ridiculous, but at the same time, thrilling. Your legs carried you down the hallway, past the bathroom, towards the bedroom. You could hear his footsteps behind you, slow and deliberate, but menacing in a way that sent a jolt of excitement through you. You knew he wasn’t rushing after you — he was savoring the chase, playing the part.

You ducked into the bedroom, your breath coming in quick bursts, your pulse racing. The thrill of being hunted made your body tingle with excitement. You quickly hid behind the door, pressing your back against the wall, trying to control your breathing. Your mind raced as you listened for his footsteps.

The apartment was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Heeseung moved closer. You could almost hear your own heartbeat in your ears, a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Then, his voice broke through the silence.

“Where are you hiding, baby?” Heeseung called out, his voice calm but with a sinister edge that made your skin prickle. “I’ll find you. And when I do, you’re mine.”

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making a noise. Every part of you was buzzing with a mixture of fear and arousal. He was so good at this, it was almost terrifying.

Then, you heard the bedroom door creak open. You held your breath, pressing yourself further against the wall. Heeseung stepped into the room, and you could feel his presence, his calm but dangerous energy filling the space. He was close now, so close.

Suddenly, you heard the unmistakable sound of something metal scraping along the doorframe. You peeked out from your hiding spot and saw him holding a knife — not real, but the fake one he’d used for his Halloween costume last year. It glinted in the dim light of the room, and the sight of it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it wasn’t real, but the image of him holding it was enough to make your heart race even faster.

“I know you’re in here,” Heeseung said, his voice dark and smooth. “You can’t hide from me forever.”

You couldn’t help it — a small whimper escaped your lips. Heeseung’s head snapped in your direction, his eyes locking onto you in an instant. 

“There you are,” he purred, his voice sending another thrill through you.

You bolted from your hiding spot, trying to make a dash for the door, but Heeseung was faster. He grabbed you, pinning you against the wall in one swift, practiced motion. His body pressed against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. The knife was pressed lightly against your throat — not enough to hurt, but just enough to send your pulse skyrocketing.

“You didn’t run fast enough, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now you’re mine.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart pounding against your chest. The fear, the thrill of it all, had you completely entranced. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, filled with a mixture of amusement and something far more dangerous.

"Look at you," Heeseung growled, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “All worked up because you like dangerous shit, huh?”

You tried to respond, but his grip on your face tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you still. Your heart pounded in your chest, the mixture of fear and arousal overwhelming every sense.

“Fuck,” he scoffed, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “I didn’t know you were this filthy, baby. Liking knives and serial killers? You’re even freakier than I thought.”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a wave of heat through your body. “What’s wrong with you?” he mocked, his voice dark and teasing. “Huh? Does this shit really get you wet?”

Heeseung’s free hand trailed down your body, fingers ghosting over the curves of your waist, deliberately slow, teasing. His touch was rough, your skin tingled under his fingers, the anticipation driving you insane.

“You’re sick,” he continued, his voice thick. “Getting off on being hunted like some prey. Do you even realize how fucked up that is?”

You whimpered, the tension in the air building to an almost unbearable level. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you responded to his words. His hand finally settled on your throat, not squeezing too hard, but enough to remind you that he had all the power in this moment.

“What’s that, baby?” he cooed mockingly. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you too busy dripping over the thought of me fucking you like the dirty little slut you are?”

Your body trembled under his grip, the combination of his degrading words and the roughness of his touch sending a wave of heat straight to your pussy. Heeseung’s smirk only deepened when he saw the effect he was having on you. 

“Yeah,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin. “You fucking like this, don’t you?”

He chuckled darkly, his hand still gripping your throat as he leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning your body as if you were something he owned, something he could play with however he wanted.

“I should’ve known,” he sneered. “That ‘good girl’ act on campus? Total fucking bullshit. I bet no one knows how much of a dirty little freak you really are. Getting wet for knives and killers. How fucked up is that, baby?”

You tried to speak, but Heeseung’s grip on your throat tightened just enough to cut off any response. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your jaw as he spoke.

“Tell me,” he hissed. “What else gets you off? Huh? Is it the thought of me chasing you down, pinning you to the ground, making you beg for me to stop?”

Heeseung's words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn’t help but whimper, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. He chuckled, low and dangerous.

“Fucking pathetic,” he mocked, shaking his head. “I barely even touched you, and you’re already whining like a little bitch.”

Heeseung’s hand finally left your throat, but before you could even process the loss of his grip, he grabbed your waist roughly, spinning you around and shoving you against the wall. The impact sent a thrill through you, your cheek pressing against the cool surface as his body pressed into yours from behind. His hands roamed over your body, possessive and rough, his touch almost punishing.

“Bet you’d love that,” he continued, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “Me hunting you down like some fucking animal. Catching you and making you scream my name. You’d probably fucking love it if I tied you up, left you helpless, wouldn’t you?”

You gasped as his hand slid between your legs, the roughness of his touch sending a shockwave through you. His fingers ghosted over your panties, accessible because of the skirt you were wearing.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his fingers brushing against the heat of your pussy. “Fuck, you really are a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

You whimpered again, the sound desperate and needy. But Heeseung wasn’t having it. He pulled his hand away abruptly, making you gasp in frustration. You tried to push back against him, but he quickly grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind you and against your back.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he mocked, his voice a low growl. “You don’t get to fucking move until I say so.”

You bit your lip, your body trembling with need. Heeseung chuckled darkly again, clearly enjoying the power he held over you.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice laced with amusement. “Begging for me without even saying a word. You’re so fucking desperate. Is this what you wanted, baby? For me to treat you like the filthy little whore you are?”

“Yeah,” you finally managed to choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please…”

“Please, what?” he mocked, his grip on your wrists tightening. “Use your fucking words.”

“Please, hee, just… fuck me,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible.

He let out a dark laugh, leaning in so close that his lips brushed your ear again. “Oh, I’ll fuck you, baby. But you’re gonna have to fucking beg for it. Beg me to fuck you like the little slut you are.”

Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on fire. The way he talked to you — it was everything you’d ever fantasized about and more. You needed him, desperately, and the thought of him making you beg only made you want it more.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, hee. Fuck me. I need it. I need you.”

He smirked, clearly satisfied with your response. “That’s more like it,” he growled. “But remember, baby. I’m in fucking control here. And you’re going to take everything I give you.” 

Heeseung released your wrists, but before you could even catch your breath, he grabbed your hips roughly, positioning you exactly how he wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, his touch harsh and demanding. You could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. He made you arch your back, your hips and meeting his.

“Now,” he growled, his voice dark and filled with promise. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll remember exactly who owns you.”

He leaned forward, his chest pressed against your back, his lips grazing your ear, and you could feel the raw power radiating off him in waves. You could feel his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation. He dragged one of his hands up your side, rough and deliberate, before his fingers slipped between your legs again, teasing your slick heat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice laced with amusement. “You’re soaking. All this just from me talking dirty to you?”

You could barely form words, your body so worked up from the tension he’d been building with every degrading word. You pushed back against him, desperate for more, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed your hips again, roughly holding you in place, preventing you from moving.

“Ah, not so fast,” he mocked, a dark laugh escaping his lips. “You’re not ready yet, baby. I’m not about to just fuck you like this without prepping you, or I'll hurt you."

You let out a small, needy whimper, your head spinning. Your breath hitched as his words sunk in, your body trembling even more under his touch. Heeseung wasted no time, sliding his fingers through your slick folds, spreading your arousal as he circled your clit with rough, teasing strokes. You moaned, your body arching involuntarily as the pleasure started to build.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his voice dark and rough with lust. “You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, Hee… I need you.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “You’re gonna get me, baby. Every fucking inch. But I want you to be ready.”

Without warning, he slid one finger inside you, slow and deliberate, making you moan softly at the sudden intrusion. He was teasing you, taking his time as he pumped his finger in and out, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to push deeper. Your body responded instantly, hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, clearly enjoying the way you clenched around him. “I’m gonna have to stretch you out real good if you’re gonna take my cock.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, the anticipation making your body tingle with need. Heeseung added another finger, the sensation sending a wave of heat through you as he began thrusting them in and out, faster this time, his touch rough and demanding. You moaned louder, your body reacting to every movement, every thrust of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. “Take it, baby. You can handle this, can’t you?”

You nodded frantically, unable to form words as the pleasure built inside you, your body practically trembling under his dominance. His fingers moved faster, rougher, hitting all the right spots, and you could feel the tension in your core starting to coil tighter and tighter. He was prepping you, but he was also pushing you closer to the edge.

“You like that?” Heeseung mocked, his lips brushing against your ear again. “Being fucked by my fingers? I bet you’re imagining how good my cock’s gonna feel inside you, aren’t you?”

“Yes, f-fuck” you moaned, your voice shaky, desperate. “I want it. I want you.”

He let out a dark chuckle, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that made your legs weak. You gasped, your body jerking at the sensation, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he held you in place.

“I know you do, baby,” he growled. “But you need to be patient. I’m gonna stretch you out until you’re begging for my cock. And when I finally give it to you, I’m not gonna hold back. You’ll be fucking screaming my name.”

You whimpered, the mixture of pleasure and anticipation becoming almost unbearable. Heeseung added a third finger, the stretch sending a sharp thrill through your body as he worked you open, thrusting his fingers in and out of you with rough, relentless precision. You moaned louder, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, and Heeseung’s lips curled into a wicked grin at the sound.

“Fuck, you’re such a little slut,” he sneered, his voice dripping with amusement. “Getting off on my fingers like this. I can feel how close you are. But you’re not coming yet. Not until my cock’s inside you.”

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body desperate for release. But Heeseung wasn’t giving you any mercy. He pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, making you gasp in frustration, your body aching from the sudden loss of sensation.

“Not yet,” he growled, his voice filled with dark promise. “You don’t get to come until I’m buried deep, deep, inside you.”

You whimpered, your body trembling with need, and Heeseung chuckled darkly at your desperation. He shifted behind you, positioning himself so that you could feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, the sensation making your heart race. He was big — and even after a year, it still surprised you every time.

Heeseung gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back against him as he lined himself up with your entrance. He pushed just the tip in, slow and teasing, the stretch making you gasp. He held himself there for a moment, his breath hot against your neck, and you could feel every inch of him as he pressed against your slick heat.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his voice rough with lust. “You’re gonna take all of me, baby. Every fucking inch.”

You moaned softly, your body trembling as he began to push deeper, the sensation of him stretching you open making your legs weak. He moved slowly at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he sank into you, inch by inch, the stretch almost overwhelming.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “I can feel how desperate you are. You’re practically choking my cock, baby.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as he finally buried himself fully inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely making your head spin. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his grip on your hips tight and possessive.

Then, without warning, he pulled out halfway and slammed back into you with a rough, brutal thrust. You moaned loudly, the sudden impact sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body, and Heeseung chuckled darkly at your reaction.

“Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You like being fucked rough. You like it when I own you like this.”

You could barely respond, your body trembling with pleasure as he began to fuck you with hard, relentless thrusts, each one driving deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and Heeseung’s voice was dark and rough as he degraded you with every word.

“Take it,” he growled. “Take every fucking inch of me. You’re mine. My filthy little slut.”

You moaned loudly, your body trembling under the force of his thrusts, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight. I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through your body, and you could feel the tension in your core building rapidly, the pleasure overwhelming every sense.

Heeseung’s pace was relentless, his rough, powerful thrusts leaving you breathless and trembling. The sensation of him deep inside you, filling you completely, was overwhelming. Your mind spun, barely able to process the intensity of it all. The room seemed to blur around you, the only thing grounding you being the feel of Heeseung’s strong hands gripping your hips, the sound of his ragged breath against your ear, and the harsh slap of his body against yours.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he growled, his voice deep and rough with lust. “Tight, warm, squeezing me like you never want me to stop.”

He drove into you harder, faster, each thrust shaking your entire body, and you were already teetering on the edge. The overwhelming pleasure coiled tight in your core, the knot growing tighter with each second as he pounded into you, not giving you a moment to breathe.

“I can feel you getting close,” he sneered, leaning in close to your ear. “You’re already about to come, aren’t you? I can feel how fucking desperate you are.”

You tried to respond, but the only sound that escaped your lips was a helpless moan. You were trembling, your body barely able to handle the intensity of his movements. You felt like you were going to explode, your entire body burning with pleasure as you clenched around him, trying to hold onto the last threads of control.

“Go on,” Heeseung growled, his voice dark and filled with amusement. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you lose it.”

His words sent you over the edge. With a desperate moan, you came hard, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave. Your legs buckled beneath you, and Heeseung’s grip on your hips tightened as he held you up, his pace never faltering. The way he kept driving into you, even as you pulsed around him, made your orgasm last longer, dragging you into a state of blissful helplessness.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Heeseung groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re fucking perfect when you come. Look at you, barely able to stand. So fucking ruined for me.”

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and you thought he might slow down, give you a moment to recover. But Heeseung had no intention of letting you rest. Instead, he pulled out for just a second, flipping you around so that you were now facing him. Before you could even catch your breath, he pushed you up against the wall again, lifting one of your legs and hooking it around his waist. With one rough thrust, he buried himself deep inside you once more, the sudden sensation making you cry out.

He started fucking you again, even rougher this time, each thrust harder and more intense than the last. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, and the overstimulation made your head spin. Your body was already trembling, barely able to keep up with the way he was taking you. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “You’re squeezing me so fucking hard, baby. I know you’re close again. I can feel it.”

You moaned, your head falling back against the wall, your body shaking as the pleasure built again, faster this time. You couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop yourself from spiraling towards another orgasm, and Heeseung knew it. He smirked, his hands gripping your hips harder as he increased the intensity of his thrusts, driving deeper into you with every movement.

“Come for me again,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding. “Come on, baby, I know you want to. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

You couldn’t hold back. With a desperate cry, you came again, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure crashed over you, even stronger than the first time. Your mind went blank, the sensation overwhelming every sense, your body completely at Heeseung’s mercy.

“That’s it,” Heeseung groaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you pulsing around him. “Fuck, you’re so good for me. Coming like that again and again. You love it, don’t you?”

You were too far gone to answer, your body shaking as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. But Heeseung didn’t slow down. He kept fucking you, his thrusts hard and relentless, pushing you further and further into a haze of pleasure. Your mind couldn’t keep up, the overstimulation making your body twitch with every thrust, your moans becoming more desperate, more breathless.

“You’re mine,” Heeseung growled, his voice dripping with dominance. “You’re fucking mine, and I’m not stopping until I get every last fucking drop out of you.”

You whimpered, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure built again. You didn’t think it was possible, but Heeseung was driving you towards another orgasm, your body responding to him even though you were already completely spent. The overstimulation was almost too much, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Look at you,” he sneered, his voice filled with dark amusement. “You can barely fucking stand, and you’re still so desperate for more. You really are a little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to form words as your body trembled under his relentless pace. “I’m yours… Heeseung, please…”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “You’re fucking mine.”

With one last hard thrust, he drove you over the edge again, your body convulsing as another orgasm tore through you. This one was different — it was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t even think. Your vision blurred, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure consumed you entirely. You could barely breathe, your mind completely blank as you fell apart for him.

Heeseung groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he kept fucking you through your orgasm, his own breath ragged and uneven. “Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “You’re fucking perfect when you come for me like that.”

You could barely keep your eyes open, your body trembling and weak, but Heeseung wasn’t done with you yet. He didn’t stop, didn’t give you a moment to recover. His thrusts were still as hard and rough as ever, pushing you further and further into a haze of pleasure and overstimulation. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, your body completely at his mercy as he took everything from you.

“Tell me,” Heeseung growled, his voice low and commanding. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you gasped, barely able to form the words. “I belong to you.”

Heeseung smirked, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Damn right you do,” he growled. “And I’m not stopping until you’ve come so many times you can’t fucking think straight.”

He wasn’t lying. You lost track of how many times he made you come after that. Each orgasm blurred into the next, the pleasure overwhelming every sense until your mind was nothing but a haze of need and desire. You were shaking, trembling, barely able to form coherent thoughts, but Heeseung didn’t stop. He kept pushing you, kept driving you towards the edge over and over again, his voice dark and commanding in your ear.

By the time he finally let you collapse, you were completely spent, your body trembling and weak. You could barely think, your mind still spinning from the intensity of everything he’d done to you. But as Heeseung pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest, you couldn’t help but feel completely satisfied, completely owned by him.

“You did so good, baby,” Heeseung whispered softly, his voice filled with affection now that the storm had passed. “So fucking good for me.”

You barely had the energy to respond, but you smiled, feeling safe and content in his arms.

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake Accidentally Takes Over the World (and Didn’t Think to Mention It)

So, Janet somehow spent decades climbing her way into every government worth a damn, ruling the entire world from behind the scenes. And then, because the universe is apparently wild, she left it all to Tim.

Cut to Tim Drake, the brand-new, completely reluctant secret ruler of the entire planet. And he just… never really thought it was worth mentioning?

The Batfam finds out when Bruce stumbles across an encrypted memo traced to a mysterious Gotham office with Tim’s name on it.

Bruce, holding up the memo: “Tim. Want to explain why this document about, oh, international finance reforms is signed with your encryption key?”

Tim, not even looking up from his laptop: “Oh, yeah. That. Janet left me her ‘global influence portfolio’ or whatever. Mostly paperwork.”

The Batfam stares in total shock.

Dick sputters nearly dropping his coffee: "Wait—you’ve been managing world policies?!”

Tim, shrugging, barely paying attention as he emails the president of Germany: “Well, yeah. I figured someone had to keep things running. It's not that big a deal. I mostly just redirect some policies. You know, keep things running smoothly.”

Jason, absolutely cackling: “Are you telling me that little Replacement here is the reason for half the ‘global cooperation’ headlines?”

Tim, scrolling through emails: “They send me reports; I send suggestions. And honestly, they make it way more dramatic than it is. It's not that hard."

Barbara stares at him, half horrified, half impressed. “How did we not notice this?”

Tim blinks. “I mean, it’s not like I was actively hiding it. I assumed you guys knew I was… kind of managing these things?”

Cue utter disbelief.

Stephanie, laughing too hard to breathe: “Tim, do you have world leaders on speed dial?”

Tim, completely unfazed: “Only the important ones. They text, mostly. Oh—by the way, I might’ve influenced a minor arms control thing last week. Don’t worry; it’s all sorted.”

Bruce, looking like he’s two seconds from fainting: “Sorted? Tim, we're talking about you having global authority here. People notice these things."

Tim shrugs again as his phone buzzes with notifications. “Sure, but it’s not like they’re going to do anything too crazy. I just suggest stuff, and they listen. Honestly, it’s like herding really powerful, really overdramatic cats.”

Damian, scandalized: “You mean to tell me, Drake, that you’re manipulating world politics like it’s a game of checkers?”

Tim, still casual: “Manipulating’s a strong word. Like I said, it’s more just nudging things along.” His phone buzzes again. “Oh, hang on. France is panicking about their energy policy again.”

The Batfam tries to process the fact that Tim—Tim, who routinely forgets what day it is—is now, somehow, running the world.

And then his phone buzzes with a message from the UN Security Council.

Tim sighs, glancing down. “Oh, great. Looks like they’re debating nuclear arms again. Be right back.”

Meanwhile, the Batfam is left absolutely speechless, processing the fact that their Tim—scrawny, coffee-fueled Tim—is apparently one of the most powerful people on the planet. And to him its just another tuesday.

[mrsbarnesblog]

for you

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.

Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘

Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day. 

He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.

“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not. 

“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”

“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“

Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face. 

“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw. 

“I said that she looked fuckable.” 

It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face. 

Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie. 

Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place. 

You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today. 

You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation. 

“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly. 

“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles. 

“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in. 

Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart. 

Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him. 

Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body. 

“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt. 

“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”

“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”

“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer. 

“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office. 

As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you. 

“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.

“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him. 

“Is that so?” She looked at you. 

“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.” 

“Liar.” 

“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.” 

“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!” 

“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.” 

“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange. 

“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room. 

“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk. 

“What did you want to talk about, professor?” 

“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love. 

“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded. 

“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”

“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long. 

Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet. 

When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.

“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock. 

“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.

“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”

“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief. 

“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him. 

"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling. 

“I thought she hated me.” 

You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you. 

“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.” 

“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy. 

Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”

“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips. 

“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh. 

“Then I'll let you do it.”