#and I've grown past the need to keep it up for numbers

[theangrypomeranian]

tfw you've been thinking about deleting your most popular fic from a past fandom

[saintmuses]

❝𝙨𝙤 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮❞

Pairing:

Thomas Shelby x Jurossi!Reader

Summary:

When he courted his first love Greta before the Great War, he met her younger sister; Y/N Jurossi. He took her under his wings after the war and she was the best thing that could have ever happened to someone like him.

Warning(s): Soft SMUT. Somewhat dub-con. Fluffy. Implied age gap (everyone’s grown). A pinch of dark theme, but it’s consensual. Implied minor corruption. Minor power imbalance. Fingering. Thomas being extremely soft towards Y/N. Daddy kink (so sorry). Minors, dni!

Word Count: 2.5k

“Bad day?” She asked quietly into his ear while wrapping her arms around his chest from behind.

"Hectic," Thomas said with a sigh, leaning back against her. Her warm breath caressed his ear. He would never tell anyone, but it felt nice to be held and comforted. "We're gettin’ more trouble at one of the factories. I've been tryin’ to straighten it out, but it seems nothin’ works," he muttered, shaking his head in frustration.

“You’re Thomas Shelby, you’ll figure it out.” She said soothingly, rubbing her hands on his shoulders to ease out the tension.

Thomas chuckled under her touch and relaxed into her embrace. “I know, but sometimes the weight of all this responsibility gets to me,” he admitted, “It’s nice to have someone here to keep me steady.”

She was confused because he had a family who could support him every step of the way. “What do you mean?” She asked. He looked up at her before dragging her into his lap making her yelp in surprise.

Thomas laughed softly. His hands wrapped around her frame, pulling her close. His chest rose and fell, his heart pounding against her.

“I just mean that you’ve been keepin’ me sane and grounded, keepin’ me from losing my mind ‘n all this mess.” He said softly, stroking her hair.

“Other than whiskey and cigarettes?” She asked, eyeing the Irish whiskey on the desk next to them. 

Thomas shrugged, “That helps too, but I prefer you.” He murmured, leaning in closer. His hands trailed down her back, pulling her body flush up against his. “You’re my favorite thing.”

She giggled, “well I hope you would choose me as number one over whiskey as your favorite thing on the list, it would be terrible if I’m number two.” She pouted with mischief in her eyes 

"Oi, I'd always choose you over any bottle of whiskey." He said with confidence, almost playfully. She was his favorite thing, his whole world. His hands caressed her soft skin, tracing their way up and down her body. He couldn't help it. He was intoxicated by her beauty. He craved her in so many ways. "You're my everythin’."

She blushed, “not even your siblings?” She questioned softly.

"Never," Tommy said firmly. He leaned in closely and stared deeply into her eyes. "No one could ever take your spot in me heart. I would never choose anyone over you. You're too special."

He had met her when he started courting Greta Jurossi before the war. He had thought she was a sweet little thing, but he had never saw her as anything other than Greta’s sister who was quiet and meek. 

It wasn’t until he received a letter from her in France during his days and nights digging and shoveling dirt to form tunnels underground and he had been surprised to see a letter from his past. 

She lost her parents to influenza that took over Europe and she had nowhere else to go. He did tell her after Greta died that if she needed anything, send him a letter and he would make sure she was taken care of.

When he came back as a different man, he knew he needed to take her under his wing because she was one thing in his past that was undamaged, untouched by many things.

Somewhere along the line, he fell in love with her.

She grinned at him before turning her head to see the dark liquid in a bottle and grabbed it before unscrewing the top. Raising the bottle to her lips, she took a delicate sip, swallowing it. 

Thomas’ heart skipped a beat as he watched her take the first sip of whiskey. Her eyes twinkled as she swallowed the liquid and licked her lips, her face brightening with a mischievous grin.

He had never seen anything so beautiful and so arousing. She was so bold, so daring, so alluring. His hands clenched into fists as he watched her.

He then reached for the bottom of the bottle, knowing she could handle as he tilted the bottle towards her lips, guiding the liquid into her mouth and watching her swallow it down flawlessly. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Every move she made was perfect, enchanting, and irresistible. The way she drank the whiskey down so easily, gulping it as if her life depended on it was so incredibly arousing.

He eased up on the bottle before putting it aside, placing it back on the desk, and collected her back into his arms. She mumbled unintelligible as he pushed her head into his neck.

He cradled her in his arms as she nuzzled against his neck. His grip tightened around her body as he pulled her closer. She was sleepy, and her words were nonsensical, but his embrace felt so right. It was as if it was where she belonged.

He buried his face in her neck and let out a sigh of contentment. The smell of her hair sent a jolt of pleasure down his spine. He couldn't get enough of her.

She giggled, trying to edge away from his face, “Tommy, that feels ticklish.” Her words slurred from exhaustion that flitted on her face as well.

He reluctantly pulled away from her neck and laughed softly. She was slightly tipsy, but she sounded cute when she was like this. He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.

“Are you tellin’ me you’re lightweight, eh?” He asked, grinning, wanting an honest answer.

She hesitated before nodding. “I think so?” She giggled once more. “I mean I had two glasses of gin before checking on you, but you know what alcohol does to me.”

She seemed so adorable when she was exhausted like this. Thomas couldn't help but chuckle, enjoying her adorable tipsy and sleepy mannerisms. 

She did not get tipsy in the shape of getting drunk. Whenever she had too much, she would get sleepy.

He brushed back her hair, his hands roaming over her soft skin. "I think you are, my little sleepy baby," he whispered, trailing his fingers up her arms. Once he reached for her neck, he then chuckled and brushed her hair behind her ear, loving the way her eyes opened up, and she whimpered slightly.

"Is something wrong?" Thomas asked softly, his voice a little huskier than before. He was enjoying this way too much. His hands cupped her cheeks, slowly caressing her face. His touch was gentle but firm. "Are you not a sleepy little baby?"

“What would you call me if I’m not sleepy?” She pouted, eyes blinking innocently.

His lips twitched as he tried not to smile. He liked her when she was being sleepy, but he also loved it when she pouted. She was so cute and innocent, in total contrast to his fierce and powerful personality.

"You'll always be my baby." Thomas murmured, kissing her forehead. his hands slowly traced up and down her back, wanting to give her some sort of comfort yet also seeking something more from her.

Her pout shifted to a smile in response. Her eyes slowly blinked, lulling her head forward onto his shoulder. Her head rested on his shoulder, and for a moment, she seemed so innocent and sweet. He could tell she was a little tipsy, but something else was stirring within him. She was so vulnerable, so open to him. 

His hand ran across her cheeks softly, playing with her hair. His other hand rested firmly on her thigh, caressing the soft skin.

He lifted her onto the desk in front of him. She grumbled slightly when she felt a hard surface under her, but he laid her down on it gently before sitting down in the chair again.

Thomas couldn't help but chuckle again when she grumbled slightly after he laid her down on hard furniture.

Her presence next to him was so inviting. She smelled so intoxicating and she was so delicate. Her body was just begging to be touched, and he couldn't refuse.

“You are so pretty,” he whispered in her ear, his breath caressing her neck.

She felt his hand trailing from her shoulder, down between her sternum, down her abdomen until he reached the hem of her night gown. He dragged the fabric of her night gown up her thighs until her abdomen was revealed, exposing her in her underwear. 

Thomas’ fingers trailed along her body, exploring it in such intimate and bold ways. It felt so good to be able to touch her without any limitations. 

Her body was so fragile. He had never felt anything soft as her. His fingers glided along her skin, his hands rubbing up and down her sides and down her thighs. Curling his fingers around her calves, he gripped them to maneuver her legs until they were propped on the wooden arms of the chair with her feet flat on the surface, the position made her thighs spread apart. She gasped when his hand ran from her calves towards her thighs then ran over her underwear, trying to feel her through the fabric.

Thomas’ hand caressed her thigh, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric covering her skin. He loved the way she would gasp whenever his hands touched her. 

He wanted to see how much it would take to make her lose her restraint. He pulled back slightly, caressing everything but the skin under her underwear. He made her sweat a little before finally sliding his fingers underneath it.

She felt him curling his fingers to pull the fabric aside, exposing her cunt to his hungry gaze.

“What are you doing, Tommy?” she mumbled the question.

"What does it look like, eh?" Tommy's voice was low and husky as he looked her up and down, studying her body with his eyes. She was so vulnerable and innocent.

He was taking advantage of that. This was his girl, and he was going to let himself enjoy her.

"Just lettin’ myself enjoy every inch of your perfection," Thomas said softly as his fingers began to trace her folds, feeling the slickness of her arousal on the pads of his fingers.

She whimpered as she felt his fingers parting her folds and slid a finger excruciatingly slow into her. “Da-“ she cut herself off, feeling embarrassed through her sleepy-addled brain.

"Did you just try to call me daddy?" Thomas asked softly, although he was a tad bit surprised by the name, but he enjoyed watching the look of embarrassment on her face. She was so easily embarrassed, and it gave him a deep sense of satisfaction. 

He was loving the way that she was responding to him. It was as if her drunk sleepy body was submitting to him, letting him explore every inch of her.

“N-no.” She lied, flushing slightly as she began to mumble incoherently under her breath.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart," Thomas said, smiling. He moved closer to her face. If she was too embarrassed to speak, he would read from her body. Her facial expression gave away everything she was feeling right now.

His index finger joined his middle finger, and his fingers explored her more deeply as he looked into her eyes, wanting to see how much she could handle.

“Would you honestly like it if I call you that?” She asked quietly, arching her back slightly.

"Oh, I would love that," Thomas said immediately, not even wasting a moment to think. He didn't care about his pride when it came to her. She gave him the opportunity to take care of her, and she was so submissive to him right now. ”Do it, my girl," he softly commanded, running his fingers along the walls of her cunt before curling up to touch the spongy surface.

She gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Daddy,” she breathed, swallowing inaudibly.

His lips curled into a satisfied smile; he was pleased to hear that particular word coming from her. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, his fingers continuing to explore her intimately.

She whined, her eyes were still unfocused, but she had a semi strung out look on her face before biting down her lip to hold back noises as he continued to touch her.

His fingers slowly traced between her folds, exploring every inch of her there. His fingertips ran up and down, making her squirm and whimper. She was so sensitive, and so easily aroused. His touch sent a jolt of pleasure to the tip of her pleasure spectrum, and she couldn't contain her body from writhing.

She whimpered. “Daddy,” it was almost in a slur in response to his ministrations.

"That’sa good girl," Thomas muttered softly, his voice huskier than before. He couldn't get enough of this. Her submission to him had awakened something dark and devious within him. He wanted to take advantage of it. "Do you like this, my naughty girl?"

“Y-yes.” She whined. He looked down at her slick cunt and praised her.

"It's so perfect," Thomas whispered, taking a moment to look her in the eyes, his fingers slowing down just a little. He was enjoying her responses to his touch, but he wanted to prolong this a little longer so he could explore every single inch of her.

“What is?” She whimpered.

"Your pretty cunt," he answered softly, trailing his fingers along her thighs again. The way she squirmed and whimpered with every touch gave him a rush of adrenaline.

Thomas had never felt this turned on in his entire life. Every sound that came from her mouth turned him on even more. Her responses drove him over the edge. Her whimpers were like music to him. The music he thought he did not want to hear since the war.

His fingers glided back and forth between her folds, tracing the skin of her cunt softly.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head at the feeling. 

"You're so pretty when you get like this, my girl," Thomas whispered. He couldn't help but look down at her face to see her expression. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she looked so vulnerable. She couldn't resist him in this tiredness mind of a state, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

She felt him lean in closer to her, his breath on her face as he rumbled softly at her. 

“Daddy,” she whimpered when she felt his nose nuzzling her nose.

“What is it, baby?”

“I love you,” she whined softly to him, sighing at his closeness.

His breath caught in his throat at her words. She couldn't have said anything nicer or better to him. Her words made everything more real, and he couldn't stand it because he knew he did not deserve her. However, he was a selfish bastard after all, and the war had taken too much from him. He deserved this one thing.

He brought her face closer to his, his breath still trembling, his voice sounding softer. "I love you too, baby," he whispered softly.

He saw her head lolling back on the surface of the desk, and he couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss her lips gently. His fingers brushed against her cheeks tenderly as he caressed her face with his hand. It was as if she was the only thing that mattered in this fucked up world.

[goodnightmemes]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

episodes: s01e05 - s01e07

❛ I'm trying to think of something more fucked up than this. ❜

❛ Stay out of my head. ❜

❛ I care for him more than he cares for himself. ❜

❛ A whole lot of concern's been wasted on you these past months. ❜

❛ Where are the bodies? ❜

❛ Well, then, I guess you better hope and pray you taught me how to clean up good. ❜

❛ You gonna let him do this to me? ❜

❛I'm never gonna forget what happened here. I hate you both. ❜

❛ Sounds like there's a maniac on the loose. ❜

❛ So much wine in his blood. And beer and whisky. ❜

❛ Happy? We were not happy. ❜

❛ Who am I supposed to love? ❜

❛ Why can't I make one? No matter how much blood I give them, they just lie there gaspin'. ❜

❛ What is this? Look at me. What have you done? ❜

❛ If you could find them, which you won't, they would shred you to strips, because you are built like a bird - because you are a mistake. ❜

❛ He treats us like shit and you take it! Why is that? ❜

❛ Been following you. You ain't been your careful self. ❜

❛ Don't... Don't run off. ❜

❛ Poor dear. She wasn't held enough in between ritualistic murders. ❜

❛ Once you put it out there, they decide what it is. It can get away from you. ❜

❛ Assume we are under suspicion. ❜

❛ We should leave the city, start anew. ❜

❛ Should I do like you instead? Read the first pages of every book, pass myself off as cultured? ❜

❛ You draw me into your gloom. ❜

❛ So, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good. ❜

❛ If what I've read is lies, then tell me what's true. ❜

❛ The vampires out there are vicious. Oh...but you've learned that already. ❜

❛ Come with me!  I thought I could live without you, but I was wrong. ❜

❛ His love is a small box he keeps you in. Don't stay in it. ❜

❛ I fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper. I never once harmed you. ❜

❛ Let him go. It's me you want. ❜

❛ Listen to me, and listen very carefully, my infant death. It was never you. ❜

❛ I have patiently waited in vain for you to love me... as I love you. ❜

❛ Just say it. Say, "I am never going to love you". It would help me a great deal to hear that from your lips...your quivering...hateful lips. ❜

❛ Excruciating pain was the proof I was still alive. ❜

❛ You know he's a vampire, right? ❜

❛ NDAs signed by any and all who cross the threshold, eh? ❜

❛ Are you still dreaming about our first meeting? ❜

❛ Are we the sum of our worst moments? Can we be forgiven if we do not forgive others ourselves? ❜

❛ You gonna be my knight in vengeful black? ❜

❛ Save your charity for the needful. ❜

❛ I was someone I don't want to be anymore. I've changed. Let me prove it to you. I'm nothing without you. ❜

❛ If you want me to go away, just say so. I'll obey you. I'll leave your life forever. ❜

❛ This silence is cruel. And you were never cruel. ❜

❛ Write me a song and put your lover's voice on it? What the fuck is wrong with your head? ❜

❛ Put some clothes on and get the fuck out. ❜

❛ The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent. Lover, murderer, maker. ❜

❛ It's a bond that can never fully be severed. A bond like that makes you believe there are only two of you on the planet. ❜

❛ I cried. I called to God. I didn't want this. But I have a capacity for enduring. ❜

❛ We leave the damage so we never forget the damage. ❜

❛ She's grown very protective of me. ❜

❛ I ask these questions because I'm trying to understand you better. ❜

❛ I'm sorry for your losses. ❜

❛ I admire your steadfast pursuit of a game you clearly have no acumen for. ❜

❛ You're ugly when you act like that. ❜

❛ They don't appreciate you like I do. ❜

❛ You're like me. You like to laugh. ❜

❛ Well, now that I'm dead, I can be whoever I want. ❜

❛ I seek refuge from complaints when I visit you, dear. ❜

❛ He's the father of lies. ❜

❛ This life, it does a number on the head, on the soul... if we even have a soul. ❜

❛ When he hurts you again, and he will, come find me. ❜

❛ You don't need me. You think you do, but you don't. You're smarter now. You see trouble coming a mile away. ❜

❛ You left without saying goodbye. Again. ❜

❛ Back in your cage, sweetheart. ❜

❛ We endure each other for [name]’s happiness. ❜

❛ I love you. I don't say it often enough anymore. ❜

❛ You threaten a life which will endure till the end of the world. ❜

❛ Are you a narc? ❜

❛ I want to interview you. ❜

❛ So...question. Can an immortal meet mortality? ❜

❛ We would spend our hours enduring, with little pretense of getting along, locked together in hatred. ❜

❛ Knowledge is the ocean's edge. ❜

❛ They say that Satan lives in this house. ❜

❛ Well, send Saint Peter our regards. ❜

❛ We have to leave this place. ❜

❛ Maybe start by telling me the plan? ❜

❛ You spend an hour alone with him and you're breathing in sync together. ❜

❛ I'll lose myself in him. ❜

❛ You irritate me. Your very presence irritates me. ❜

❛ I came to make peace with you. ❜

❛ No one's comin' to a party thrown by freaks. ❜

❛ You're gonna try to kill him at this party? ❜

❛ I mean, this is all good and... sufficiently creepy. What do you want? ❜

❛ Would you like to know the secret of immortality? ❜

❛ I wanted him dead. I wanted him all to myself. ❜

❛ I'm going to miss this place. ❜

❛ I was his, and he was mine. ❜

❛ Always the petty slights with you. ❜

❛ We are joined by a cord, by a cord that you cannot see, but it is real. It is real. ❜

❛ I have loved you...with all myself. ❜

❛ I'm happy it was you...here with me…at the end. ❜

❛ This horror that had been [name]...I stared helplessly at it. The thing lay still. ❜

❛ Murder? What murder? It was an act of mercy. ❜

❛ You didn't kill him. You spared him, out of some fucked-up idea you had about love. ❜

❛ We have to burn him. It's the only way we'll know! ❜

❛ You don't need a memoir. You need a hundred sessions of EMDR. ❜

❛ You've only heard half the story. ❜

❛ This time, I won't save your life. ❜

[barefoothighlander]

mary on a cross - hero of the day

-simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

-warnings: violence, death, smut (mdni), unprotected p-in-v, oral (fem rec), creampie, simon has a dirty mouth, mentions of alcohol, mentions of domestic violence (nothing graphic)

-word count: 6k

-summary: as you and simons relationship grows, outside forces conspire to reveal his secret, leading to him having to protect you by any means necessary. mercenary au

prev chapter fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: ok so I finally got around to playing mw 2019 and I fear a Price phase is coming on so... we'll see what happens. Not proofread, sorry for any grammatical errors

The mornings you and Simon woke up to were very different, yours was filled with a warm breeze from the window and a sense of comfort, not only from your bed but from your current life. You were happy, finally, it took years for you to gain the strength to leave but now that you’ve created the life you wanted, you felt content, secure. Simon’s morning was filled with dread, he barely slept that night, deciding to rather spend his time pacing his bedroom after he hung up the phone with Johnny, the two of them had worked together a few years prior, before Simon’s retirement and they had grown rather close, even using the term friends sometimes (though Johnny used it far more liberally than Simon). But it had been years since the two talked, not for any specific reason, just that Johnny had remained in the force and Simon grew used to living a life of solitude, not bothering to call Johnny over the years. He didn’t have Johnny’s number saved in his phone, but he wouldn’t mistake that voice anywhere, that obnoxious Scottish accent that he swears pierces his skull. It was a shock for Simon, being so cautious with his past time having everyone including the local police confused, but Johnny knew him, they had been through war together, he knew all of his moves, his favourite weapons, the only thing he didn’t know was the why.

“What are you doing going about killing civvies?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about MacTavish” Simon responds, trying to keep his breathing regular as to know alert Johnny

“Bullshit LT, it’s you, I've seen you kill enough men to know what it looks like” He takes a beat, “I’m not gonna turn you in”

Simon almost sighs in relief.

“I just want to know why, you left the force years ago, I’d thought your violent years were behind you, hell if you wanted to kill you should’ve stayed”

“They’re bad people Johnny”

“They always are”

“They’re not innocent, I just wanted people- innocent people to be safe”

“Alright”

The two men sit on the phone in silence for a few minutes, neither one daring to speak.

“I’ll see you in the morning LT,” Johnny says before hanging up.

Simon sat in his bed, his heartbeat in his ears, fuck he’ll ask more questions, he gets up and begins pacing slowly back and forth, you’ll ask questions. He never wanted to tell you about his past, he didn’t want to scare you, he knew you’d look at him differently if you knew what his military file had in it, he knew you’d run far away if you knew what his current past-time was, he couldn’t have Johnny talking to you it would ruin everything, he needed a way to get rid of Johnny without him giving away his secret, and without raising your suspicions.

Rather than sit anxiously in bed all morning Simon had gone to the gym beside the pub, it wasn't a large commercial gym by any means, but it had punching bags, and that was more than he could ask for, reposting to work out some of his stress on the large bags he threw punch after punch till his already sore knuckles were swollen and red. Deciding that he had inflicted enough pain on himself for the day he grabbed his bag and made his way back to the pub, going to turn the key in the lock before realizing it was already open. Immediately Simon went into fight mode, prepared to attack whoever decided to trespass onto the property, his trance only broken by the sound of laughter, your laughter, his shoulders untensed as he pushed the door open to find you, head thrown back in laughter, smile wide and bright, and him, next to you. 

You turn your attention from Johnny towards the door, eyes locking on the large looming figure advancing towards you.

“Good morning,” you say, smiling as wide as ever. Simon's gaze shifts between you and Johnny.

“Mornin”

“Sleep well?” Johnny asks, a smirk on his face as he sips his coffee, Simon ignores his questions.

“Johnny said he knew you from the force, figured I’d let him in before we open so he could say hi” 

Simon spares a tight-lipped smile in your direction, “Yea we um, worked together for a bit”

Johnny fakes insult, “Just wanted to check in LT, finally got leave so I’m back for a bit”

Simon gives a curt nod as he busies himself cleaning glasses, you sense the tension in the air.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, did either of you want anything”

“No” “I’ll take a tea lass” both of the men respond, you smile and make your way out the door.

“You shouldn’t be here Johnny”

“She’s sweet”

Simon turns his gaze to stare daggers at Johnny as a smirk creeps up on his face

“You like her” Johny asks, though it’s not a question

“She’s not a part of this”

“So she doesn’t know?”

“No one does”

Johnny nods his head looking around the room before continuing.

“Are you going it for money?”

“No”

“Then what?”

Simon sighs, “When I got back, I spent a week just sitting in my flat, watching the news, trying to catch up on whatever I’d missed. The people, the children that were being harmed, I couldn’t just watch it happen.”

“So it’s about your family”

Before Simon can respond you walk back in, tray of drinks in your hand.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything but I figured I’d get you some anyway”

Johnny watches as Simon's body untenses at the mere sight of you, glancing at his eyes that are practically heart-shaped. You place the drinks atop the bar and both men reach to grab theirs, Simon mumbling a soft thank you in your direction.

“Oi doll, could you grab some extra glasses from the back,” Simon asks, you nod at him and turn to walk towards the backroom.

“Let me help you,” Johnny says, Simon furrows his brows.

“I don’t need your help, Johnny”

“Right, what happens if you get caught?”

“I won’t”

“You don’t even exist technically, you get caught an the whole team gets investigated”

“I won’t get caught” Simon stands stern as Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You should go”

“Right” Johnny gives him a sad look, “I’m off lass!” he shouts to you. You poke your head around the corner.

“Already? Well alright, don’t be a stranger” you say with a smile as Johnny gives you a wave turning away to exit.

“I’ll be in town,” he says to Simon, it’s more of a warning.

Simon feels his mind flush with a million thoughts at once as soon as Johnny leaves.

“So, the weirdest thing happened last night,” you say, moving back into your seat at the bar, Simon gives a hmm in acknowledgement, keeping his attention on cleaning the bar.

“News said they found two bodies on a street close to here, just freaked me out cause I take that street home”

“Strange”

“Right, and remember how I was telling you about those guys following me” You wait for his nod, “It was the same street, can’t be a coincidence”

Simon feels his pulse start to race, there’s no way she thinks it’s me. You shake your head

“I don’t know, just weird. Guess I have to find a new route home”

“I can take you home,” Simon says a little too quickly

“No I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t live far anyway”

“You could never be a burden”

You feel your cheeks flush a little, looking toward your feet.

“Alright”

The two of you enter a comfortable silence, going about your tasks individually, but always within reach of each other. The day was slow, with a handful of people coming in once and a while to get a few drinks, by midnight it was dead quiet, you and Simon occupying yourselves with quiet conversation that was mostly one-sided.

“Top five books,” you say

“What?” Simon responds with a raised brow

“What are your top five books, I’ve noticed you reading in the mornings”

He gives a small nod, “Not sure, maybe dorian gray, hell’s angels, jekyll and hyde, moby dick, and jane eyre.

“You’ve read jane eyre”

“A few times yeah”

“Cute, no books about war?”

“Feels strange to read about it when you’ve lived through them”

“Them? Like multiple”

“What are yours” He changes the topic quickly

“Doesn’t matter” you say and he smirks.

He looks outside to the dark street, “We should probably get you home”

You nod and gather your bag, Simon walks beside you, locking the pub before the two of you make your way to the street, he places a soft hand on your waist to guide you in a different direction, and you feel heat flush your body from the contact. The two of you turn a corner and walk to a small alley beside the pub where a motorcycle is sitting.

“You ride a motorcycle,” you ask almost amused. He huffs a laugh at the question urging you closer as he turns the key in the ignition, you hear the bike roar to life as Simon turns to place a helmet on your head, securing it before sitting on the bike, he waits for you to get on the back. You nervously place your hands on his shoulders, unaware of how to sit, he reaches back for your arms, pulling them tight over his stomach and forcing your chest to press against his back. You try to stop yourself from feeling over the strong muscles of his stomach, he turns the bike to make his way down the alley onto the street, speeding up as he enters onto the road. You cling to him and he can’t fight the smile that creeps up on his lips, he revels in your touch no matter the circumstances, he liked that you were holding on to him so tightly seeking safety. The ride to your flat was short but exciting, Simon driving more cautiously than he normally would. He parks the bike outside your building as you remove the helmet passing it to him, you smooth your hair from your face before thanking him and making your way to your door.

You close the door behind you and fall against the wall trying to come to terms with what you were feeling, you didn’t want to take your hands off him, you wanted to press further into his flesh and let your hands roam all over him. You think about exploring his body, feeling his muscles under your palms, his fingers digging into your hips and heat pools in your lower stomach, you bite your lip and in a surge of confidence you open your door again to see him leaning against the bike, smoking a cigarette. You lock eyes and he quirks his head.

“Did you want to come in?” you ask sheepishly and without a second thought he throws his cigarette to the pavement and closes the space between you. It happened so quickly, the door was pushed open and he grabbed your face with both hands, not wasting a minute in attaching his lips to yours, his kisses are feverish, and tongue and teeth and he closes the door with a kick of his leg and moves you back against the wall, he leaves your lips to plant wet kisses down your neck and collarbone as your hands roam over his shoulders, chest, back, any part of him you could reach. You feel his weight press against you as he lifts you up against the wall, lips returning to yours as his tongue begs entry and you oblige. The two of you are a mess of gasps and moans, trying to catch any breath between the kisses, he begins walking you down the small hallway as you direct him to the bedroom in between kisses.

He drops you onto the mattress, lips never leaving yours as you arch your back to lift your shirt and he does the same giving your hands full access to paw at his skin, you feel your fingers over his littered scars you’ll ask later. He reaches down the hem of your pants, looking to you for permission, you nod and attach your lips to his neck as he undresses you, your arms reaching behind your back to remove your bra. You’re left in just your panties, laying on the bed, lips swollen and eyes blown wide in lust while Simon takes a step back to admire you muttering curses under his breath that bring a rosy tint to your cheeks. He kneels down and places a trail of kisses across your bare stomach as your fingers find their way to his scalp, raking through his hair, his fingers come to curl around your underwear before peeling them down your legs as he looks over your dripping pussy.

“Christ, so wet already”

You blush and he smirks before diving in, licking thick stripes up your slit, lapping up every drip he can, teasing it with his fingers before pushing them into you, he’d take his time later, he wanted you, needed to feel you come apart on him. Your head is thrown back, slurs of moans leaving your lips as your fingers grip his hair in an attempt to ground yourself. The combination of his fingers and expert tongue bring you to your peak quickly, your chest tightening as your high builds.

“That’s right pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my fingers”

You let out a loud gasp of his name as you reach your climax, he licks you through it, replacing his fingers with his tongue in order to swallow every last bit of your high. He places a few more kitten licks to your swollen pussy before moving up to entrap you between his arms, reaching down to kiss you.

“Taste so sweet,” he says reaching down to unbutton his pants before taking them off. You glance at his throbbing cock through his boxers, it’s big, bigger than you’ve taken before. He reads your eyes,

“S’alright doll, I’ll be gentle”

“No,” you say but it comes out as a whimper, “want you to fuck me, hard”

A smirk creeps onto his face as he grips your waist, flipping you onto all fours, you’ve barely caught your breath, limbs weak as you try to hold yourself up. He grabs a handful of your ass, placing kisses down your spine before bending to bit lightly at the meat of your ass, you let out a small yelp and he kisses over the skin, teasing the head of his cock through your puffy lips. He plants a firm grip at your hip before pushing into you, letting out a moan. You let out a curt fuck as he pushes in, leaning down to encase you, planting a palm next to your shoulder before he begins slowly pumping into you inch by inch.

“Doing so well love, just a little more”

You can’t help the breathless moans that escape your lips. He bottoms out with a large breath that you feel fanning over your cheek, your arms give out as your face falls in contact with the bed. He pulls himself back up to trace his palm between your shoulder blades as he continues pumping into you. As your pussy adjusts to the size of him you begin moving your body back against him in time with his thrusts, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your cervix. He brings both hands to knead at the flesh of your ass, spreading the cheeks apart to get a clear view of him fucking you.

“Fucking hell, feel so good love”

He picks up his pace and you hear your headboard colliding with the wall behind it, drool pooling on the sheets under your mouth as you cry out his name.

“That’s right baby, say my name”

“Si- Simon fuck”

He reaches a hand around to toy with your clit and you feel your muscles constrict around his length.

“Fuck squeezin' me so tight”

He reaches a hand around your throat and pulls you upright, your back arched and flush with his chest as he holds you against him, your hands coming to grab at his thick forearm in an attempt to keep yourself upright. You can’t think, your mind clouded with only him, his scent is intoxicating, all you can feel is him. He brings you to your peak, sucking at your neck hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark as you moan into his ear.

“Yes fuck, right there, please Simon”

“Yea, that feel good love”

You nod.

“Words baby”

“Yes God please”

He continues thrusting into you, fingers circling your clit faster as that familiar coil burns in your lower abdomen.

“Shit I’m gonna cum”

“Yea? Fuck cum on me, wanna feel you squeeze my cock”

And you do, you come undone in his arms, your pussy soaking his cock and he fucks you through your second high, never slowing his pace. When you finally come down you’ve lost all control of your body, your thoughts are fuzzy as he flips you onto your back and pushes back into you, bringing your knees to your chest and holding them there. You can’t form words, body overstimulated from your orgasms.

“Not gonna last, where do you want me”

“Inside please, need to feel you,” you say but it comes out as a whisper.

He can’t deny you, not when he has you under him, completely lost in him, begging for his cum, his muscles tense as he slows his thrusts, spilling his hot seed deep into you with a deep grunt. He releases your legs but keeps himself inside, leaning down to kiss your glistening neck, he stays there for a while, both of you catching your breath, basking in the warmth of him.

He removes his softening cock from you and watches as the mixture of both your orgasms spills out before leaving to grab you a warm towel. He runs it over your body, careful to not hit your overstimulated clit before tossing it to the laundry bin and settling down next to you, you reach for him nuzzling into his broad chest as his arm moves to hold you close to him, lips pressed to the crown of your head.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that” he says and you giggle into his chest, hands roaming to feel over his scars.

“They’re old, wounds from when I served,” he says as you glance up at him, “knew you were gonna ask at some point”

You smile, reaching up to kiss him, head falling back against the pillow as he brings his hands the push your hair out of your face, you stare into his eyes, his face gives nothing away but his eyes, they’re full of emotion, he looks at you like you hold the world. You feel yourself growing tired as you cuddle back into him,

“Stay here,” you say

“Okay”, you feel the deep rumble of his voice through his chest as you close your eyes letting the warmth of him comfort you into sleep.

The two of you are woken to the loud noise of banging at your door, you open your eyes slowly, your limbs are tangled between Simon’s as his arms hold you close, cursing to yourself that you’d have to leave him. You move from his chest and throw on some pants and his shirt, making your way to the door, opening it your heart falls to the floor.

“Alex” your chest feels empty, why was he here, how did he find you?

“Hey babe”

You shake your head trying to close the door but he places his foot in the way.

“Can we just talk”

“No - I left for a reason” You glance back at Simon in your bed, still asleep. “You need to leave”

He follows your eyes, “Is someone here” The tone in his voice grows angrier as he pushes the door to let himself in, you stumble back.

“Alex please, go home I don’t want you here” you beg as tears prick your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him and here he was in your apartment.

“Who the fuck is that” he yells turning back to you, invading your space and forcing your body to move back against the wall as your arms come up to plead defence.

“You leave me and move here to fuck some other guy, you fucking slut”

“Alex please”

His hand makes firm contact with the wall beside your head, making you flinch as your tears start to flow down your cheeks.

“What is wrong with you, I gave you everything”

Before you can object a deep voice calls from the other side of the room.

“I’d back off if I were you”

You look up, eyes locking on Simon’s and you can see the anger that's burning it’s way to the surface

“Seriously, hey just fuck off man this doesn’t concern you,” your ex says, turning his attention towards the large man.

“It concerns me plenty,” Simon says crossing the room to tower over Alex

“Simon please” you beg, he can see in your eyes that you don’t want him to hurt Alex, but every fibre of his being wants to kill him, slit his throat and throw his body into some alley for the rats to feed on. Alex puffs his chest and pushes at Simon with his hands, he doesn’t move an inch, tilting his head down to glare at your ex's face.

“You need to leave”

“You fucking leave, she’s my girlfriend”

Simon feels his anger come to a tipping point as he grabs Alex’s neck and shoves him against a wall, your quiet pleas lost in his fit of rage. Alex brushes him off, sparing you a final glance.

“This isn’t over, I’ll be back,” he says before leaving, slamming the door behind him hard enough that you jump. You sink backwards against the wall.

“Are you alright?” Simon asks scanning your body for any evidence that you were hurt.

You shake your head, “You shouldn’t have done that”

“He was hurting you-”

“No Simon, you don’t understand, he’s not going to stop, he followed me here” Your cheeks are stained with tears, your breath heavy.

“Then I’ll deal with him,” he says slowly bringing his hands to hold your face as you stare up at him. God help any man who tried to hurt you in his presence, “I promise, he’s never going to touch you again”

You sniffle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps his arms to hold you, this was just another person he’d have to take care of, he’d kill everyone if it meant keeping you safe. The two of you stand in the living room, not a word shared between you as he just continues to hold you, shushing your quiet sobs, placing tender kisses on the crown of your head. You felt safe in his arms, your anxiety settling as his palms caress over your spine.

“I’ll kill ‘em if I have to”

You release a giggle, as Simon smiles but he’s being serious. After a few minutes, the two of you continue your morning, Simon making tea as he doesn’t trust you to do it properly while you stand in the shower, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles.

You jump as the curtain pulls back, Simon’s head popping in, eyes lingering on your naked form.

“Take a picture why don’t you”

“Don’t tempt me”

You laugh at his remark.

“I’ve gotta head over to the pub” his eyes full of lust, every bit of him trying hard to not jump in the shower with you, “I’ll see you over there in a bit yea?” 

You nod leaning over to kiss him, biting lightly at his lower lip.

“Minx,” he says and splashes some of the water at you.

Simon leaves and you continue with your morning, drying off from the shower and getting dressed for work. You weren’t sure how the new dynamic would work, you had always found Simon attractive but this was new, you’d never slept with someone you had to see every day. You didn’t know if this was a one-time thing, you hoped it wasn’t but Simon wasn’t the best about vocalizing his emotions, you didn’t want to just come out and ask, so you’d have to wait, test the waters, see how he felt about you.

By noon you had made your way to the pub, the cool air inside a welcome sensation after your walk in the warm air outside, you settle your things, peeking around the corner to try and find him.

“Simon?”

No response, maybe he was upstairs, you’d never been to his flat and it felt strange to just invite yourself in so you stayed in the pub, finding tasks to complete while you waited for him. A few minutes pass and you hear a loud crash from upstairs.

“Si?” you yell, hoping it’s him upstairs and not some robber, silence fills the next minute before you see him emerge from the back door looking a little dishevelled.

“Hey love, make it here okay?” he asks placing a kiss on your lips. You’re a little taken aback at his quick pace.

“Yeah fine, what was that noise”

He looks over to you taking a beat, “Knocked a chair over, was rushing around too quick I guess”

You nod, not fully believing him but trusting him enough that you didn’t pry further. The two of you fell into routine, pouring drinks for regulars, restocking liquor, cleaning glasses, having small conversations between customers.

“I’ve gotta check something in the flat, I’ll be back quick,” he says rushing up the back stairs.

You occupy yourself cleaning as you hear more noise from upstairs, deciding you needed to check it out for yourself. You make your way up the back stairs, slowly opening the door to the flat peering inside. It wasn’t anything spectacular, essentially just one large room, a bed at the far wall in front of a window, there was a small kitchen tucked against another wall, everything was very clean, it looked like he never used the furniture. You look around for him as you step into the room, following the sound of his heavy breaths around a corner, he’s standing at a large window looking out, a creak in the floor alerts him to your presence.

“Hey, sorry not as quick as I thought”

You look around, nothing is out of place so what was all the noise?

“It’s alright, just heard banging, didn’t know if you needed help with something”

“Huh? Oh- no was just looking for something, forgot where I’d placed it”

“Placed what”

He looks at you, jaw slack as he tries to think of a response.

“My tags, dog tags, wanted to throw them in with the rest of my stuff just couldn’t remember where they were”

You glance over, eyes locking on his bedside table, you flick your head in their direction.

“Found ‘em”

He huffs a laugh, crossing the room to pick them up, toying with them in his hands before moving over to you. He glances down at you, raising his arms to place the chain around your neck, you stare up at him, quirking your brow.

“Look better on you” he says, leaning to kiss your forehead. 

Your fingers come up to fiddle with the tags, eyeing them over, Lt. Simon Riley, well at least you knew his last name now.

“Did you close up”

You shake your head.

“Right well, meet you outside in 5. I’ll drive you home”

He begins walking away,

“Why don’t we stay here tonight,” you ask and he stops in his tracks, “Easier that way, don’t have to wake up any earlier to get to work”

He thinks it through in his head, he’s never had anyone in his flat, let alone stay the night, but it’s you.

“Yea alright, just give me a minute to close downstairs”

You nod, taking the time to further explore the space. Lots of books, a guitar sat in the corner, no pictures, he had barely anything on the shelves, it looked like he only used the space to sleep if that, the bed was perfectly made, not a single wrinkle in the sheets. You strip your body of your clothes, rummaging through his drawers to find a shirt, throwing it over your form as you settle into the bed, senses overtaken by his scent that lingers on the pillows. Simon steps back into the room, eyes landing on your half-naked form,

“Comfy”

“Very,” you say, stretching your limbs over the mattress as you feel it dip from his weight. He lays back and you crawl over him, legs caging his hips as his arms secure themselves around your back, chin nuzzled into your neck.

You revel in his warmth as he places light kisses over the skin not covered by his shirt, making his way to nip at your neck eliciting a small moan from you. You crane your neck to bring your lips to his, kissing him softly as his hands move down to grab at your ass. Your kisses become feverish as you feel yourself grow needier, light pushing your lips against him, Simon moves to kiss along your jaw, lips settling under your ear.

“What do you want pretty girl”

“You, need you,” you say through gasps, grinding yourself down onto his hardening cock

“Need me to what”

“Need to feel you, need to feel your cock inside me”

“Atta girl” He grips your hips with bruising strength as he grinds you back and forth against him, your hands moving to plant on his chest as your clit catches on the fabric of his boxers.

He moves you at a brutal pace and you can feel the arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

“Soakin’ me already baby, you gonna cum just from grinding on me”

You bite your lip, nodding as the sensation takes over your body, your legs tensing as you dig your nails into his flesh, your slick leaking from your orgasm, soaking through your panties onto his hard length.

He lifts you off him, pulling his boxers down, his throbbing length slapping at the skin of his lower abdomen.

“Wanna ride you” you say breathlessly as Simon smirks.

You push yourself up, lining his cock up with your weeping cunt before settling down on him, taking him slowly, gasping at the stretch. His hands grab at your shirt, lifting it over your head before his lips move to kiss at your breasts, tongue teasing over your hard nipple as your fingers rest on his shoulders stabilizing you. Once you settled you begin bouncing slowly up and down his cock, your juices leaking down pooling at the base, and coating his pubic hair. He leans back, hands on your hips encouraging you to continue, he thrusts up abruptly, forcing your body forward, hands planting on his firm chest and you continue to ride him, the friction from his pubes hitting just the right spot that you’re able to grind your clit against him

“That’s right pretty girl, use me, make yourself cum on my cock”

You lean down to kiss him and his arms wrap around your back, holding you to him as he plants his feet against the mattress and begins thrusting up into you at a brutal pace, your head falls to his neck as choked sobs escape your lips. You bite down on the meat of his shoulder, hands grasping at the sheets as he continues to fuck you.

“Fuck - look at me, wanna see you when you make a mess all over my cock”

You arch your back, head coming to rest against his forehead as you stare down at him, your jaw’s fallen open, strings of moans escaping as he reaches to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he continues his assault on your pussy.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum”

“That’s right, good girl, wanna feel you squeeze me”

He latches his lips to yours, swallowing the moans that come from your orgasm, fucking you through it at a brutal pace as he chases his own high.

“Fuck you feel so good, so tight” He groans eyes locking onto where your bodies meet, mesmerized at the sight of your pussy swallowing his large cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders as he grips tightly around you, thrusting a few more times until he lets out a loud moan and you feel your pussy being filled by his warm seed, pumping a few more times, letting you milk him dry as your foreheads come into contact again, the two of you rest against each other trying to catch your breath, he places a kiss to your lips before slowly rolling you over onto your side, holding you tight to his chest where you plant kisses over his scars.

You fall asleep quickly, your body tired and mind quiet at the sensation of Simon's breaths against your cheek, he listens to your breathing, his own mind racing with thoughts. He had followed your ex from your flat, conveniently walking down the street near the pub as Simon invited him in for a drink and a chat, Alex had obliged entering the doors before Simon locked them and wrapped his arms around his neck effectively incapacitating Alex, he wasn’t thinking, all he could feel was his anger, he hated him for hurting you, hating the fact that he had even been able to touch you even more, you were his, no one would touch you except him. He had dragged Alex’s body up the short flight of stairs into his flat, positioning him near the bathroom, giving him time to wake up before continuing his assault, he wanted him to feel every hit, every bruise and ache that would remind him not to go near you, Simon landed blow after blow to his body, blood spitting from his mouth pooling under his head. He didn’t mean to kill him, but somewhere along the way, his sight turned black, his fists moving on their own accord coming into contact with Alex’s head.

Simon stood back, catching his breath now fully aware of what he had done, ignorant to your presence downstairs he grabbed the body leaving it in the bathtub, he would come back later when his head was clear to clean up.

When he finally returned upstairs later he knew he had to be quick, wrapping the body and tossing it out the window into the alley behind, he knew the routine of the sanitation workers, he had enough time to take you home and come back to responsibly dispose of your ex so that no one would know it was him. What he didn’t account for was you, standing in his flat as his hands were wet with soapy water from cleaning the blood off the floor, he panicked, he couldn’t lie to you, he wanted you to trust him, but his instinct to protect you from who he really was took over.

He never planned on giving you his tags, but seeing the smile on your face after he put them on you he can’t picture you without them, a chain around your neck with his name, a visible marker to let him know that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

He couldn’t sleep, even with the comfort of your body next to his, he had to clean up before you noticed anything. Carefully he removed himself from your arms, watching the way you tucked into yourself at the loss of warmth, he made his way over to the window to look upon the corpse, devising a plan that would allow him to get rid of it only for his eyes to focus on an empty alley.

The body was gone?

[fuck-customers]

Jeez a lot of customers need to have lessons in general manners. Adults. Not children. These offenses are repeatedly made by grown adults who are old enough to be my parents, generally 40+.

▪︎If you need to speak to an employee, but that employee is currently on the store phone, unless it is a life-threatening emergency, WAIT for that employee to finish the phone call. I can't tell you how many times I've been on the phone with a customer and an in-store customer thinks whatever they want is more important and starts talking to me while I'm on the phone. I simply ignore them. Be rude, I'll be rude back idgaf.

▪︎If you need to ask an employee something, greet them first so the employee knows that you're talking to them and aren't just on the phone or something. And don't yell your question from across the room. Simply say "excuse me" or "Hi, could you help me please?" Or something similar and when you do that....

▪︎Be polite. Say please and thank you and phrase your requests in the form of a question rather than a demand. Basic kindergarten manners here.

▪︎If you want something from an employee, such as an extra bag or a gift card that the employee may have to retrieve for you, communicate that you want the bag/card/etc. Don't just stand and stare at them. Employees cannot read your mind and are contractually obligated to help you, but will not be able to do so if you don't communicate your needs.

▪︎Keep your opinions about an employee's (and honestly every stranger's) physical appearance to yourself? I shouldn't even have to say this wtf. If you don't like the way someone has dyed their hair or if they have acne or bad makeup, shut the fuck up about it.

▪︎Do not stand in the middle of the aisle and block the entire aisle for customers and employees both, especially not the main aisle. And if you space out and accidentally block the aisle and someone says "excuse me" to try to get past, LISTEN and MOVE.

•If you change your mind on an item in your cart and you don't remember or don't feel like putting it back where it goes, give it to the cashier to put in go-backs. Don't shove it on some random shelf.

•If you knock something over and break or spill it, notify an employee so they can clean it up so no one gets hurt. Retail chains generally don't have "you break it, you buy it" rules.

▪︎The vast majority of employees actually have extremely little control over the store. Problems with inventory, online orders, return policies, etc are not caused by anyone you will ever see working on the sales floor of a retail store. These problems are caused by outside forces, such as corporate or third-party delivery services. Ask an employee for the number of corporate to give your complaint to them if you absolutely must voice your complaints.

▪︎If you ask one employee a question and you receive an answer you don't like, suck it up and move on. Asking a different employee will not get you a different answer, it will just piss the employees off and now you're DEFINITELY not getting whatever it was you wanted.

▪︎Stay the fuck out of employees only areas? Shouldn't have to say this one.

▪︎If you arrive at a store before it opens, stay in your car and wait until the doors are opened. Or go somewhere else until opening time. And do NOT try to force open the doors yourself.

▪︎If you're in a store and it is near closing time, most stores make warning announcements 20-30 minutes before closing time. Listen and follow those announcements. The only reason you should be in a store after closing is if you got in line before closing time and you need to wait for the people in front of you to be rung up.

▪︎Do not go to a store 20 minutes before they close or less.

Posted by admin Rodney

[regretmedaisy]

i can see you - tom riddle x fmc/reader

part II

loosely inspired by "i can see you" by taylor swift.

“I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it”

summary: She had always fancied Tom Riddle. It was an infatuation that bordered on love and obsession, that she had secretly grown and cared for, content with indulging in her fantasies and never bold enough to try and make them become reality.

When she meets him again in her adulthood, dormant longings resurface together with a newfound desire to be the object of his own devotion.

As their paths keep crossing, she starts to think he feels the same.

tags: afab mc, use of female pronouns and no descriptors (i tagged it as x reader because i guess it could be read as such if you use the same pronouns), somewhat period-accurate clothing, courtship (just a little because it's still tom riddle), fmc has a crush on tom, she's a bit anxious, a bit of fluff, explicit sexual desire, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, woman is on top.

please note that mc has a crush on tom, therefore the way she refers to him could sound a bit cheesy and exaggerated. i edited this last night and didn't read it again before posting. i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes i missed.

bear with her in this one, she's a little anxious.

words: 6.7K

you can find part I here, I strongly recommend you read that one first.

this is me crawling out of my hole of shame to post this chapter.

i'm really sorry for this very late update, but the smut chapter is finally here after many days of writing (but still in time for smutober lol).

it's not crazy smut, but i hope it was worth the wait.

Part II: And I could see you up against the wall with me

She tapped her foot, pursing her red lips as she jotted a few numbers down on a parchment. She sighed, taking another folder from the pile on her side and checking if the reports corresponded. 

When Serena, her boss, had showed up that morning with two delivery men in tow, she already knew her day was going to take a detestable turn.

Serena had dropped three boxes full of last year's reports in the office and sprinted out of the door before they could say anything and try to stop her.

Apparently she had hired a cheap accountant to save money and now she had to review everything before the Ministry noticed and demanded an audit. Or rather, Serena had asked her to do it.

She was now holed up in the backroom while Will had taken her place in the main office, since Serena didn’t pay her enough to care about customers and save her from bankruptcy at the same time.

She glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost time for her usual break. She chewed the inside of her cheek and returned to the reports.

She wasn’t in the right mindset to meet Tom.

The day she had gone to see him had been like the calm before the literal storm. In the past week it had rained so heavily that she had had to give up on going out and he hadn’t come to post his letters. What had happened between them had been left unresolved.

She had replayed it so many times in her mind, at night and during idle moments in the office, picturing different ways in which it could have ended, desperately wishing she could indulge in his warm lips again.

The first few days she had fretted about it, but as the week had gone by without a word from him, she had just started to accept it as the normal course of things. Perhaps it had just been an extraordinary event, a moment that wasn’t going to repeat itself and that she needed to find contentment in. Perhaps it was supposed to be one of those memories she was going to return to in twenty years, thinking about everything she could have had, or it will sour in her mind, turning into regret while her lamenting soul grieved the possibilities of youth, the chances she had been too scared to take.

It didn’t matter that she was conscious of the anxious butterflies leading her decisions, she still didn’t want to find out if what she saw in him was just a product of her infatuated imagination.

She immersed herself in numbers, refusing to go down that rabbit hole again.

Fifteen minutes after the end of her break, a customer walked in. A beat of silence followed and then Will said, “She’s in the back.”

She almost jumped out of her seat, her heart rate picking up. She quickly smoothed her hair and sat straighter, crossing her legs.

Tom appeared in the doorway, his arm half raised as if he had wanted to knock. She pretended she had just noticed him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hello, Tom.” She gave him a mellow smile.

He was so good-looking, with his perfectly styled curls and black coat in the muted light of the cloudy morning. Her heart fluttered painfully.

He looked hesitant as he made his way to her and handed her a folded magazine. It was the weekly crossword.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it as her gaze met his. The way he was looking at her was so compelling it was impossible for her to divert her eyes.

He had been thinking of her, she realised, he had noticed her absence, perhaps even missed her.

“I hope I’m not disrupting your work.” His gaze trailed to the numerous papers scattered on the table.

“Not at all, a distraction is more than welcome.” The distraction of his presence was most desirable.

He drew closer, reading through them as he casually rested his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Maths mostly,” she replied, fiddling with the parchments to hide her nervousness.

He reached out over her shoulder to grab a folder but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s still work.”

He dropped his arm. “You’re right, I apologise. I don’t wish to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“It’s fine.”

He stepped to the side, tickling her neck.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from grinning.

“Of course.” 

She watched him with desirous parted lips as he left. He said goodbye to Will and she heard the door closing. It was only a matter of minutes before Will came to pry.

She grabbed the crossword, flipping through the pages. He had bought her her favourite one.

As she got up to put it next to her bag, a small note fell to the ground. It was a plain piece of parchment. But as she picked it up, ready to throw it on the table with the rest of the documents, words started to appear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew to whom that elegant and neat handwriting belonged.

She read the note. Then read it again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. 

“I hope to see you more often in the future.

You look stunning with that lip colour.

T.R.”

She brought her fingers to her mouth, staring at the words until each swirl of ink etched into her mind, terrified they might disappear.

Instead his message remained there, visible, tangible, real. He had taken time to write her a note, to think about something he knew she’d appreciate.

Something warm diffused in her chest, a new version of a familiar feeling, and a giggle escaped her as she realised the ridiculous effect he had on her. 

She was so engrossed in her reverie that she didn’t notice Will standing in the door until he cleared his throat. 

She quickly hid the message in her purse and  he was so considerate not to comment on it.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Awfully slowly, these numbers are all over the place,” she huffed, returning to her chair.

He dragged a chair and sat across from her. He started bouncing his knee. “I know you’d prefer not to talk about this, but how are things between you two?”

She stopped twirling her quill. “What do you mean?”

Will shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you but I’d hate to see you hurt.”

She tilted her head to the side, disliking the territory the conversation was heading towards.

He was struggling with his words. “He never- I never saw him interested in a girl. I just want to be sure you know what you can expect from him.”

She averted her eyes. “I have considered all the options.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, Will!” she bursted out. 

Her flare of annoyance suddenly deflated, making room for embarrassment for what he probably saw as naivety.

“I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself.”

“You are smart, I just can’t stand watching you smile at the things he writes to you.”

She feigned offence and threw a balled up paper at him. 

“When you find someone, you’ll be just as ridiculous.”

He laughed and steepled his fingers in front of him. “I’m curious to know, when did it start?”

She scrunched her eyebrows, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal. “I don’t remember exactly. It was more like a sequence of events, until one day I was anxiously waiting for him to sit at his usual spot at breakfast,” she replied with a smile. Will was smiling too.

“You and half of Hogwarts,” he said.

She chuckled. “I miss those years sometimes. Everything was simpler.”

“I used to worry about everything,” he admitted. “But fears always seem so big.”

They really did.

“What do you like about him?” he asked after a beat of silence.

It was her turn to be at a loss of words. “He’s handsome…and always so mysterious. I think I always liked him because it was easy to imagine him being exactly what I wanted.” She looked at him hesitantly, fearing judgement, but he was just listening. “But I think it’s impossible for me to dislike the real him.”

They shared a small moment of closure. She had always wished for someone she could confide in, someone that could help her see beyond the fabrications of her wary heart, and perhaps she had finally found them.

The bell chimed and Will got up. 

“Do you want to come for lunch on Sunday?” she asked.

“I’d love to. I’m sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His gaze shifted between the door and her. “Just make sure you both want the same thing.”

He went back, leaving her at the mercy of her insidious brain and foolish heart.

Throughout the afternoon she had opened the note at least three times, giggling like a schoolgirl everytime she read his words.

Her mind kept straying to what he had said.

“I’ll see you later.”

She wasn’t sure what he had actually meant. Was he just going to stop by or was he going to wait for the office to close? She wasn’t even sure she could see him today, since she expected to stay late to solve Serena’s mess. 

Will popped in. “I have to check something at the owlery. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

The door opened and closed and then she was submerged by stillness. It was soothing almost.

She had found out long ago that she enjoyed being alone, it freed her of any kind of expectation.

She turned up the heating with her wand and took off her jacket. Since they couldn’t light a fireplace in a room full of paper, they had refined a spell that kept the room warm and the humidity away.

It was a few minutes after the usual closing hour that the door opened again. She knew who it was.

He walked in, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold and his lips reddened. 

“Are you still working?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll take a while before I’m free to go.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, grabbing her crossword and a quill and sitting down on a chair, bending one leg so that his ankle rested on his other knee.

Her face heated as she watched him but she didn’t say anything.

As she returned to her work, she realised that silence was a strange assistant. It felt like every sound was heightened and she was becoming keenly aware of everything that was happening. The scratching of their quill on parchment, paper being flipped as she checked the numbers or he looked for a crossword he liked, his soft breath threatening to pull her close like a magnet, her absentmindedly chipping her nail polish.

She kept throwing glances in his direction and she could feel his eyes on her from time to time.

An unspoken craving was growing between them again. She had waited long enough.

She slowly got up, gathering her reports and stacking them in a neat pile. She then took them and walked over to the shelves, conveniently passing by Riddle in doing so. 

As she stored them, his chair scraped on the ground and she felt him draw closer. She deliberately turned around, meeting his eyes.

His gaze was deep, like he was trying to read every thought that crossed her mind just by looking at her. She wasn’t going to lay them bare for him. 

He raised his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you get my message?”

“I did,” she replied, stepping forward and trailing her fingers down his suit jacket, feeling the fabric. “You keep mentioning it but this is the first time I’ve seen you all week.”

“It was storming all week,” he pointed out.

She tilted her head, finding his eyes again. His eagerness was palpable. “Still,” she said.

He grabbed her waist, pressing her body flush against his. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

She had thought about that moment since then.

“Tell me what you desire the most.”

What could she tell him? That she had been pining for him for so long she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else? That she was jealous of even thinking about him with someone else? Will’s words played in her mind.

She leaned closer, murmuring against his ear. “Not until I know why you’re here, Tom.”

She left a kiss on his jaw, phantom lips brushing against his flawless skin.

“It’s a really uncomplicated answer,” he said, caressing her back.

“Explain it to me, then.”

Tender amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think I came here because I don’t own an owl?”

His words pulled at her heartstrings with raw delight and her mind went blank. Adrenaline was rushing through her as she listened to her impulses. It was enough, at least for now it was enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hand in his hair, involuntarily tugging at the strands as she leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath as he pulled her in, gripping the silky fabric of her blouse.

She met his lips halfway, the burning touch consuming her as he pressed her against the shelves, one hand lost in her hair, the other splayed around her ribcage. 

She bit his lower lip, smiling as it elicited a groan from him and the kiss became more demanding.

It was a moment frozen in time, where she wanted to stay forever, like the scenery in a snowglobe.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice abruptly pulled them apart. She was breathless as she realised she had forgotten to lock the door. Was this a conspiracy? 

Tom was slightly panting and she left a small kiss on his neck.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

She used a finger to fix her smudged lipstick and went to see who had just dared to interrupt them.

There was a man standing in the office.

“We’re closed,” she said.

“But I saw the light on.”

There was a twitch in her jaw. “We are closed to the public. I must ask you to come tomorrow morning.”

He rolled his eyes and she ignored his grumbling as he left, locking the door behind him. When she went back, Tom was leaning against the table.

He turned his head towards her as she languidly got closer. She forgot pleasantries, immediately grabbing his face to kiss him again. He was quick to react, wrapping his arms around her.

His mouth trailed down, kissing her cheek, her jaw and then pressing against her neck, soft lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. 

He grabbed her waist and spun her around, flattening her back against his chest and brushing her hair away from her neck to bite and lick her skin. His hands travelled down and he started gathering the fabric of her skirt. 

Merlin, it was finally happening. 

He caressed her inner thigh, tracing patterns and snapping the nylon of her stockings as his fingers moved excruciatingly slow.

Finally he pulled her underwear to the side, feeling the wetness between her folds with his fingers as his other hand cupped her breast.

She threw her head back against his shoulder as he stroked her clit, eliciting a sigh out of her, and she grabbed his thigh for support.

“I won’t drop you,” he murmured, amused, against her ear. He rubbed his palm over her clothed breast, the friction causing sparks to jolt through her body.

None of her fantasies came even close to what she was feeling right now.

“Should I trust you?” she asked, biting her lip to suppress a moan as he sunk one finger inside of her, his thumb still applying pressure on her clit.

“Such a great timing to ask me that,” he replied. She felt him smile on her skin.

“We don’t really know each other, Tom.” She dug her fingers into his flesh as he slipped in a second finger and started fingering her, stretching her as pleasure morphed her features. 

“And yet you are letting me do this.” He squeezed her breast, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he kept moving his fingers inside of her. 

She leaned her body weight completely on him, her legs unsteady as it was precarious the beating of her heart. 

He let out a low moan as she yanked his hair to catch his mouth, biting his lip hard to gain better access, their tongues tangling together.

He curled his fingers inside of her, an unrelenting wave of pleasure washing over her.

She stopped to imagine what it would be like if he dropped to his knees again, if he started kissing and licking her, if she could watch him at her mercy between her legs.

She realised in that moment that the fall down the precipice was inevitable. Tom had threatened to push her but she had allowed him to succeed, jumping into an abyss that felt unending but that could only allow two conclusions to her story.

What she had told Will was true. She loved the fantasy, all the glances, conversations, gestures that had never happened, that she had delighted herself with when the reality was harsher, but as she kissed him she knew that falling for the real Tom was unavoidable. Not if he kept touching her like that.

It was bound to happen, it was part of her story, the decision she was brave enough to take.

She focused on him, on the circles his thumb was drawing on her clit, on the indecent sounds falling from her lips, on his groans on her reddened skin, on him growing harder against her back. 

He pulled her hair back, tilting her head to meet her gaze. His eyes glimmered with rapture while hers were heavy-lidded, tension building inside of her. 

He didn’t take his eyes off of her, as if he wanted to memorise each detail of her, the way she looked at him, the way her lips parted slightly and the way she panted as she was nearing her orgasm.

“Just like that, darling,” he murmured, a pleased smile on his lips as he noticed she was still blushing.

She threw her head back, losing herself in the motion of his fingers, surrendering herself as blissed moans spilled out shamelessly. She squeezed his soaked fingers, and he kept moving, stroking her throughout her climax.

She panted, coming down from her apex in a flurry of emotions and flustered thoughts. He raised his wet fingers to her lips and she opened her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as she sucked on them, never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said, holding her jaw and kissing her.

It was a slow kiss, meant to explore her depths in a different way from the breathless and unrestrained passion from before. She leaned into his palm, her hand closing around his wrist.

His arms snaked around her waist and he turned them around, pushing under her thighs to lift her on the table.

The kiss transformed again.

Teeth and tongues met with vehemence, burning urgency guiding their movements as he brought her legs around his waist and she quickly started to unbutton her blouse.

But at the third button, she stopped. 

Tom noticed the shift in her demeanour and drew back, observing her. Her eyes flew to the clock, as she had just remembered about Will.

She noticed with disappointment that they had no time.

“What is it?” he asked. She didn’t miss the urgent tone of his question.

“Will will be back any time now,” she replied, leaving a peck on his lips. 

He cleared his throat and stepped back, composing himself. She got off the table and

cool hands unexpectedly reached her again, adjusting her clothes and stockings. She shivered at the contact.

He smoothed her skirt and put his coat back on, watching her as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

“If you want to stop by one of these days.”

“I remember where you live,” he replied, reading the address she had written down.

She shrugged, holding out one finger to wipe away the lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

“I was supposed to meet with a potential supplier, so yes.”

“I’d stop by the bathroom before,” she advised, gesturing for him to go as she herself needed to compose herself again.

She braced herself against the threshold, leaning her head on the hard wood as she watched him unlock the door and leave. 

Then she was alone, finally finding an answer in the cluster of hypotheses that had tormented her mind.

Two days later, as she was returning from her meeting with Serena, she found Tom waiting for her.

He was talking to Will and they both turned to her as she entered, feeling tremendously self-conscious.

“How is Serena?” Will asked.

“Dim-witted as always,” she replied, earning a laugh from Will.

Her eyes trailed to Riddle, holding an unspoken question. 

Will seemed to notice because he stepped forwards.

“It’s quite late, you can go if you want, I’ll close.”

Tom didn’t wait for him to repeat himself, pushing down the handle and holding the door open for her.

She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him and followed Tom outside. Once in the street, she huddled herself in her coat and took the arm he was offering her. 

“May I walk you home?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, a little breathy, still not immune to the chivalrous manners he always had with her.

They strolled through the streets, passing by scarcer and scarcer people as the stores emptied and everyone returned home seeking a tranquil evening.

She held his arm tightly, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his coat.

The first time they had walked together it had felt like an accident, a singular mistake in the already waved threads of her life. This time, she yearned for so much more than she wanted for the error to repeat itself; she was willing to cut the strings herself and tie them back together, as messy as it might have looked. 

They crossed the road and he gently put a hand on her waist, pushing her away from the pavement. 

“Would you fancy dinner?” he asked. There was a foreign quality in his voice and when she turned to look at him, he averted his eyes. She blinked bewildered. Was he nervous?

“I’d love to,” she replied and she noticed his chest rising like he had just begun breathing again. “But not tonight.”

An almost imperceptible smile cleared his expression at her answer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, basking in his mere presence.

When they reached her front door, she looked for her keys with embarrassingly clammy hands. 

As she lifted her head to ask Tom if he wanted to stay, she found his eyes impatiently boring into her bag. 

“Would you-”

His gaze snapped to her, serious and scorching. “Don’t even ask.”

Something coiled between her legs at the way he was looking at her. She nodded and walked up the few stairs to her door, unlocking it.

“Second floor,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

They stepped into the building, the sound of her heels and the soles of his shoes hitting the stone ricocheting through the empty hall.

She turned to gesture to him to follow her when he grabbed her face, kissing her as he pushed her against the wall by the foot of the stairs. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it just as she suspected he loved by the way he always pressed himself harder against her. 

He curved his palm around her cheek, better angling her face as their tongues met.

“I have a nosy neighbour,” she said after they pulled apart to catch their breath. “She is probably spying on us through her peephole.”

Tom didn’t think twice about it, taking her hand and leading her up to the second floor. She stifled a laugh as she unlocked the door, Tom’s lips skimming against her neck as she did, and was left breathless when he closed it unceremoniously behind them, resuming from where they had been interrupted.

As she dropped her bag and grabbed his waist, walking backwards into her living room, she remembered there were clothes somewhere - perhaps in the bathroom but she wasn’t sure - that she had forgotten to put away yesterday.

In any case, Tom didn’t look particularly interested in how tidy she was.

They quickly took off each other's coats and discarded them on the floor.

He sat on her sofa, pulling her down with him.

She was straddling him, her knees digging into the plush cushions as his hands appreciatively caressed her back, moving up and down and occasionally squeezing. She lit the fireplace with a wave of her hand.

She rocked her hips, rubbing against him and eliciting a long awaited moan from him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, their lips collading so hard she was sure she cut him.

She helped him out of his jacket and vest and undid his tie, smoothing her hands on his white button-down.

“I’ve waited too long,” she said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and grinding against him. Her hands disappeared under his undershirt and ran over his pale chest, lightly scratching his skin.

“Slowly, my dear. We will get there,” he replied between kisses.

His palms kept tracing her thighs and his face buried in her neck, nibbling at the thin skin.

When she was a small girl, before she discovered sex, Tom Riddle was just a boy she liked. During puberty, sharing stories and questions with her friends, she started to understand what was the sensation that passed through her everytime she was close to him, the one that made her cheeks redden and her mind go somewhere she wasn’t yet comfortable with.

As an adult, sexual relations weren’t unfamiliar to her, but this carnal longing, the need of a physicality that went beyond her skin touching his, was.

He opened her blouse, revealing her silk slip and bra underneath.

She wanted to touch his soul, to hold it and comprehend it.

Her eyes fell on the tattoo on his forearm, black tendrils of ink in the shape of a serpent slithering out of a skull.

“Does this have a meaning?” she asked.

He followed her gaze, blinking surprised at her question. “It does.”

“Am I prying too much if I say I’m curious to learn it?”

He bit his lip, opening and closing his fist as if he was scrambling for words. Or perhaps he was just determining if he could trust her.

“It’s a reinterpretation of the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail,” he finally said. “It symbolises eternity and the renewal of the being after rebirth.”

She traced her fingers on his skin, following the outline of the snake. “And what does your interpretation mean?”

“There is time to talk about it later,” he whispered, his teeth biting her neck and sinking lower, kissing her collarbone and her sternum, moving the fabric covering her breasts to the side.

She let go of the subject. She knew what it meant not being comfortable sharing your life.

He held one breast between his fingers, latching his mouth over the other, sucking her nipple and twirling his tongue around it.

She moaned, rolling her hips faster as he revered her bosom, the cold air hitting her moist skin and making her shiver as he took her other nipple in his mouth, lightly tugging at it until she reached the point where pleasure and discomfort mixed.

“Since we are in the mood for confessions…” she said between moans. He raised his head and looked at her waiting for her to continue. She hesitated, collecting all her courage.

“Why did you pursue me?”

His eyes softened, glimmering with fondness. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Because there is something extremely valuable in your devotion.” His voice was an intimate murmur, a confession no one else could hear.

She freezed, turning her head to the side to hide her mortification.

He took her chin, searching for her eyes until she finally gave in.

“Don’t be embarrassed, darling, I respect it, I understand it. Obsession keeps us alive, it’s what drives us.”

She swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Being the object of the desire of such a woman? Of a witch? I do,” he replied, and he was so direct and earnest that her heart swelled.

He lifted her to sit on the sofa, sliding down on his knees on the floor and taking off his shirt and vest. She remained silent as he rolled down her tights, his lips gliding down her smooth skin. He unbuttoned her skirt and helped her out of it, tracing patterns on her inner thigh as his other hand felt her damp underwear.

She tensed, something tightening in her lower abdomen and her eyes fell down to his trousers.

He kissed the crease of the thigh, like he had done that one time at Borgin and Burkes, but this time she wasn’t letting anyone interrupt them. 

He took off her underwear, his movements deliberately slow, and kissed her everywhere, except there.

His lips felt hot on her skin, searing her flesh like she had often dreamed about, carving his way into her body the same way he had done with her mind and heart, until her entire soul was consumed by him, until he could finally close that fist and feel her in a way nobody had before. 

Her breath hitched as he delicately kissed her mound, spreading her legs apart. She leaned her head against the backrest, licking her lips with anticipation, and she couldn’t contain a whimper as he felt his tongue dragging down her slit, sweet and cruel.

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking on it as his hand splayed on her abdomen to keep her still.

She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed.

“Look at me, darling,” he murmured against her folds. His breath was warm and pleasant.

She obliged, meeting his devilish grinning figure between her legs. She was incapable of looking away as he resumed his work, she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to watch him, finally allowing herself to fully indulge in him, in what he wished to do for her.

She observed his curved eyelashes, the way his perceptive eyes followed her reactions, refining his movements to please her better.

He sucked her labia and she moaned loudly, the idea of him enjoying this as much as her being exhilarating.

He threw her leg on his shoulder, resulting in her figure sliding down the cushions and him gaining better access to her. 

His tongue probed her entrance as he coated his fingers in her wetness. He slipped one finger in, working her thoroughly as she gripped his hair, keeping his head in place.

He inserted a second finger, his tongue on her clit moving accordingly to the delighted sounds she emitted.

“Tom,” she cried urgently as she tried to press herself harder against him.

He curled his fingers inside of her and her hips jolted upwards, arching her back to an uncomfortable angle as she reached her orgasm with lascivious bliss, her obscene moans matching the wet sounds he produced by licking her until she came down from her climax.

“Tom,” she said again, so breathless her voice was a raspy whisper.

“I know,” he said, kissing her leg and inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit the moment to memory.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as she let her watch.

She gently pushed him onto the carpet, bracing her hands on his shoulder as she sat on top of him. The fire was burning, enveloping their almost naked figures in warm orange light, heating their already scalding skin.

She took off her blouse with quivery hands, his gaze tracing her naked form that was slowly revealing itself. She hooked her fingers into the straps of her slip, pulling it down and then getting rid of it altogether. His hands on her waist tensed as she did the same for her bra.

Her lips parted as he touched her breast with both hands, kneading the soft flesh, tracing her areolae. 

She undid his trousers, pulling down the fabric until they were both completely naked. She took him in her hand, her fingers closing tentatively around him. Her hand started sliding up and down, her pace getting quicker and more confident as moans escaped him. She brushed her thumb on his tip, her eyes admiring what was in front of her. His lips were swollen, residue of her lipstick still on them, his hair was tousled, curls falling disorderly on his forehead, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at her. She felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing his current state was her doing, that she had enough power over him to ruin his flawless exterior, to make him want her to do it. 

His lips caught hers and he gently pushed her hand away. 

What happened after felt like rehearsed choreography, something so familiar it was impossible to forget. Their bodies moved together, their movements responsive to each other, doing and touching exactly where it mattered.

She pushed herself up on her knees, slowly lowering herself until she sank down on him completely, shuddering breaths escaping her lips.

His jaw was tense as she placed a hand on his shoulder for support, positioning herself better.

She didn’t break eye contact as she rolled her hips, soaking in the hazy blue of his eyes, in every twitch of his jaw and emotion he was feeling as she increased her pace, in his voice murmuring her name against her ear as his hands squeezed her tights and traced her back.

Skin slapped against skin, his touch inebriating as he felt every part of her, caressing her, massaging her, kissing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Almost.

His hand dipped between her legs again, stroking her clit as she rocked her hips, eliciting groans from both of them.

Sentiment and pleasure fused together in an exhilarating moment, seared in her mind and flesh forever.

She kissed him again - she could never get tired of that - and bit his lower lip roughly as his other hand went to her breast again, pulling at her nipple. 

She threw her head back, letting his mouth scrape over her neck and chest, leaving behind scorching wet kisses. Or perhaps those were marks reddening her skin, she didn’t particularly care.

He gripped her waist, thrusting upwards as she held onto him tighter. Her nails drew half-moons into his back and she bit his neck, the fibres of the carpet scratching her knees.

The lights in the flat fluttered momentarily.

His fingers increased the pressure on her clit as his thrusts grew in intensity with one purpose in mind. 

She bit her lip, trying to hold back, to prolong this instant of pure bliss before she inevitably plummeted onto the other side.

She arched her back, moving accordingly to his rhythm, her hips bucking erratic as she rubbed against his pelvis. 

And then she fell down, unrestrained, her walls closing around him as she moaned uncontrollably. He didn’t stop, drawing circles on her sensitive skin until her breath found a semblance of steadiness again. 

“You did so good,” he whispered against her forehead, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away.

She slumped against him, her hands grabbing onto his biceps as he chased his own pleasure, his movements turning frantic, losing his rhythm.

She found herself murmuring against his skin the same things she had never had the courage to say out loud, not even to herself. She wasn’t sure he was even listening to her, engrossed as he was, but it didn’t matter.

He squeezed her tights once and she understood, rolling to the side as he deftly touched himself, fast strokes that culminated in white spurts all over his hand. She watched him mesmerised

He turned to look at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fire casted shadows on his gorgeous face. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, gazing into each other, trying to guess what the other was thinking, making sense of what remained of themselves after what had just happened.

Did it have the same momentous effect on both of them? Or was it just her that knew she couldn’t go back to being acquaintances after this?

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked. Her voice sounded faint and husky to her own ears.

“I do,” he replied without a second of hesitation.

They didn’t get up, instead resting against the foot of her sofa. She curled up against him as his hand traced indistinct patterns on her skin, remaining in this haze of indiscernible unspoken feelings they were both still trying to find a name for. 

When she woke up the next morning he was gone. As she took in the cold sheets and missing clothes, her heart threatened to crack.

She got up groggily, conclusions already forming in her mind, building the most pessimistic of pictures.

She felt anxious as she wore her robe and opened the door, heading straight for the bathroom. Halfway down the corridor, the sound of someone flipping through a newspaper halted her in her steps.

She stepped into the kitchen, finding Tom sitting in a chair with his legs crossed.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said back, adjusting the belt of her robe. 

She noticed he had made breakfast, a steaming coffee pot, kept warm by magic, and some pastries she had never bought waiting for her on the table. 

She turned to take a mug from a cabinet so that she could hide her smitten smile. When she closed the cabinet, she found him looking at her.

There was no need for words.

“Where did you get that?” she asked as she poured herself some coffee, referring to the newspaper. 

“I stole it from your neighbour, I hope she won’t mind.”

She laughed. “So you know how to make a joke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sat next to him, crossing her legs. She perhaps needed to rethink her choice of slippers.

“You were always so serious growing up.”

She put a spoonful of sugar in her coffee. 

“That never seemed to deter you.”

“It doesn’t.”

He took a sip of his own coffee. “Good.”

“Does it deter you, knowing how I feel?”

He blinked. “It never had. It makes it more interesting if I have to be honest.”

She blushed, scared to ask the next question.

“How long have you known?”

He got up, brushing his knuckles on her cheek.

“Long enough to see you for who you truly are.” 

He bent to give her a chaste kiss. “I should go, the shop opens in half an hour.”

He put on his coat and grabbed his leather gloves from his pocket. She turned in her chair, treasuring the last few moments of him in her apartment.

“There’s still a lot you haven’t learned yet.” 

She refused to be an open book to him. There was so much about her that was still incomprehensible even to her and too much she wanted to show him on her own terms. She wanted to be enigmatic, to drive him mad.

“I know.”

Her disappointment was visible on her face as she was met with his silence. She had wanted to continue that conversation, to learn what he had observed.

Instead he opened her front door, throwing her one last glance, heavy with unsaid intention she hoped she wasn’t imagining, before leaving. 

She had almost finished her breakfast when she noticed a small note under the newspaper he had left behind. She grabbed it faster than she was willing to admit, almost knocking over her cup in the process, and unfolded it.

“Dinner tonight?

I’ll pick you up at eight.

T.R.”

the last part is a bonus scene i wanted to write to apologize for my tardiness. tom is a little different, but I hope he isn't too out of character.

i honestly had so much fun writing this short story and exploring a different tom from the one i usually read and write about. i hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading!

[sempersirens]

a bird in your teeth, epilogue

masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: mentions of past trauma, ptsd, nightmares. so much fluff

a/n: a little palate cleanser. sun bleached flies joel is on the naughty step rn

December 24th, (five years later)

God only knows, what I'd be without you...

The TV turned black as the credits rolled, only the warm flickering lights from the Christmas tree left to illuminate the room.

You took a steady breath in through your nose and locked eyes with Sarah, both suppressing a laugh before simultaneously turning to finally face Joel, who had been trying to silently bite back small sobs for the past forty-five minutes.

"How you holding up, boys?" Sarah teased, lovingly.

"You girls are damn evil. Pickin' such an emotional film on Christmas Eve."

"It's heartwarming!" You interjected.

"My heart is feelin' a lot of things right now but warm ain't one of 'em." Tommy murmured, wiping his eyes with the back of his sweatshirt.

"I just can't believe neither of you had ever watched Love Actually."

"May 'swell have, the number of times I've seen you two watchin' it, all damn year round," Joel said.

"Keep talking like that, Miller, and I won't make you an Irish coffee." You warned, earning oooh's from Tommy and Sarah.

You pulled yourself off the sofa and moved to the kitchen, proving your threat entirely empty. As you pottered around the room, collecting all of the ingredients for the drinks, you listened to the noise of the three people you loved most in the world simply existing in the room next to you. The haze of their laughter mixed with the song still warbling through the TV was softened by the wall separating you, a honeyed prayer just for you.

Somehow, life kept moving after that night. Everything thereafter seemed to be measured in the passing of time. Four days for your lip to heal. Three weeks for you to return Daisy's calls. Seven months until you could stop taking the long route to pick Sarah up and drive down that street again. Two years for the panic attacks to stop, for good. Five years, and counting, for an uninterrupted night's sleep.

Two months passed before your tenancy was over, but you had woken beside Joel each morning nonetheless. Sometimes, before the others had risen for the day, you would creep down the stairs and pour yourself a cup of coffee, sit on the porch, and look at that house across the street. You would watch the lights slowly turn on, see the silhouette of life taking shape. A young family had taken over your lease, and it comforted you to know another life was being nurtured within those walls.

Neither you nor Joel had ever discussed what happened that morning in that apartment. And you didn't need to know; you were content with the understanding you both did what you needed to go on. Call it closure.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours, pretty girl?" You felt his chest pressing against your back, his arms leaning on either side of your body, entrapping you against the counter.

His face nuzzled in the curve of your neck, breath tickling your hair against your skin.

"Just wondering if you're on the nice list this year." You turned to face him, staring up through your lashes at the man you love.

"That so? We've got about," he checked his watch, "two hours until midnight. M'sure I can do enough to make it on each of your nice lists for the next twenty years."

"You're planning on keeping me around for that long? Maybe I'll have a love affair with a real cowboy." You teased.

"Good luck gettin' him to watch a Hugh Grant film with ya."

You rested your hands on his face, using your thumb to trace his cheek lightly.

"How did I get so lucky?" You smiled, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

There had always been a surplus of love inside you, even when you were little. Throughout your life, you had poured it into the wrong people, time and time again. Belittled, taken for granted, chastised. Even though the love remained, you had grown to fear it. It would be like riding an escalator and instinctively grabbing the handrail, but being zapped by an electric shock. Each time thereafter, your hand would hesitate in reaching for the supportive grip. Sometimes it would tentatively hover above, trying to gage the sting of electricity a few millimetres away.

But loving Joel came so easy. Everything about him made you want to tear yourself open and offer him everything you had, everything you ever had been, and all you ever would be. You would wake in the night simply craving the feeling of his skin against yours. And every single time you reached out to him, even in his sleep, he would pull you in.

From the other room, an old Christmas song hummed through the walls.

Merry Christmas, baby / Sure did treat me nice...

"I should be the one askin' that question, darlin'." His right hand flexed in and out of a tight fist, the same way it did when he felt a bout of anxiety rise in his chest.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" You asked, concern digging itself into the furrow of your brows.

"I'm no good at this, you know that."

"No good at what, Joel?"

He pulled away from you slightly, lowering himself onto one knee, suppressing the groan you knew he desperately wanted to release at the tightness of his back and knees.

"My sweet girl, I will never understand why y'picked me. Out of all the men in this damn world, even Hugh Grant, I get to be the one who calls you mine."

"Joel..."

"I don't know much, but I know that I need t'spend the rest of my life by your side. And I need you by mine. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"

"Oh my god, yes! Of course, I will, Joel."

Joel slipped the ring he had presented from a small box in his back pocket onto your finger. His smile showed off the creases by his eyes that you often wished you could dive into and engulf yourself in each feeling that caused them to deepen.

"Get up, you idiot. Your poor back. I don't want to be pushing you around in a wheelchair just yet." You laughed into his kiss, your bodies merging together like it was all they had ever been made to do.

"Can we come in yet?" Sarah called from around the corner.

"Yes! Come in, both of you." You replied, cheeks wet and aching from the smile etched into your face.

"No chance of those Irish coffees, I guess?" Tommy smirked, you softly clipped him round the back of the head before suffocating him into a hug. "Welcome to the family, Mrs Miller."

Merry Christmas, honey / Everything here is beautiful, I love you, baby / For everything that you give me.

[meoproject]

Beriith's aging! For fun. And loredump I guess.

I kept the exact years vague because I keep going back on how old Beriith is/how long-lived his race is... I can't really make up my mind, so any definite number I've ever given as his age needs to be taken with a grain of salt because it's probably not relevant anymore. I know the Goet (Beriith's species) are longer lived than say, elves, but I haven't really decided how long-lived exactly, I don't want any humanoid species in setting to have average age over 500 even if this is a fantasy setting... and uhh I haven't really decided how they'd age anyway (though as a reminder, all the loner lived species in this setting age like humans until young adulthood for my convenience, so I can say "5 yr old Beriith" and he would actually be comparable to a five-year-old human child). All I know I want Beriith to be a dilf for a while still because to me... that is peak.

Also I'm planning on making one for Val too. She's probably going to have 1 or 2 less "age stages" because she's younger, but there's still a lot I wanna talk about when it comes to her past, so!

Anyway. Sorry this is long.

CHILDHOOD: Beriith is an only child. Even as a young child, he is serious and stubborn. His parents are two craftsmen/artists: his father does pottery and other assorted clayware, while his mother creates jewelry. They have a small shop and workspace attached to the house they live in, and also travel to fairs and markets to sell their wares. They hope that their child will grow up to take interest in either of their crafts and continue the family business in some form. As a young child, Beriith does not care about pottery or jewelry, even if his parents try to encourage him.

When he is about seven or eight years old, his family is part of a traveling caravan, enroute to a more distant marketplace, and they get attacked by a monster. A traveling warrior happens to be nearby, and single-handedly kills the monster, saving the lives of many. Beriith sees the whole fight and knows instantly what he wants from life. 

TEENAGER: Beriith's parents are against him training to become a swordsman. They love their son but don't understand why he'd rather do that than focus on art or creativity. A family friend convinces them to let Beriith become a local retired guardsman apprentice: the friend reasons that the boy will either become fed up with the hard physical work required and come back, or he excels, and Beriith's parents wouldn't be able to keep him home anyway, not long term. So, eventually, they relent and let Beriith go.

Under the guidance of an experienced warrior, Beriith indeed excels at his training. In his late teens, Beriith enlists into a local chapter of road guardsmen. While this sounds boring to the uninitiated, road guards are in charge of making sure the roads are safe to travel on... so they mostly fight and hunt monsters that get too close to roads or towns. His parents are sad to see him leave his hometown, and while he occasionally writes to them, he becomes distant from his parents almost by accident.

As a teenager Beriith hits a growth spurt before filling in, as some teenagers do, and there are awkward few summers where he is almost a full head taller than most other people he knows, while still a gangly teenager. I'll also take him until young adulthood, until his horns are fully grown. During this stage he hasn't fully internalized the size of his horns either, and awkwardly knocking into things with his horns is a sad but funny reality.

YOUNG ADULT: Beriith's young adulthood is good. He makes through the ranks fast, and is a reliable, loyal worker who is willing to push himself and also inspire others around him to try their best as well. He is skilled on the field, able to make split-second decisions on the fly, he is strong and dangerous. He is still serious and has a dry and sarcastic sense of humor, but during this time he has close friends and is generally well-liked by his peers. He starts a serious relationship with a woman named Paimona, who matches his energy well, and people around them think they will get married in the future and start a family. He continues to be distant from his parents (who have taken an apprentice) but he occasionally visits and writes to them still.

But things don't stay good forever. Gradually, as Beriith becomes older, he starts to take his work too seriously. He takes on more responsibilities; he's on the field as often as he can, and when he isn't, he does paperwork and administrative work. Or he's training. Or planning. Eventually, his friends get tired of being rejected, and largely leave Beriith to his own devices. His relationship with Pima suffers as well, and eventually Beriith breaks off their relationship over conflicting interests -- she wants a family and children, he wants to work and no children.

Having distanced most of his friends, Beriith focuses solely on work. He might've been heading towards a burnout, and perhaps his life would've turned around if he truly had experienced and gotten over it; maybe he would've healed and learned the importance of having friends and family around him. This never happens. Because a civil war breaks out, derailing everything.

ADULT: The monarchist faction of the Goet wants to reinstate the royal line that was dethroned several generations ago. This sparks a bloody civil war between the monarchists and people's union (an anti-monarchist faction who do not want to return to the days of royalty ruling over) that will take somewhat long time to resolve. Beriith serves on the people's union's side -- most of his peers share his values, and fight on the same side. But some do become monarchists, and Beriith must fight - and kill - several of them during the war.

The war keeps Beriith busy. It's not non-stop action, there are times when the civil war goes somewhat cold, or at least cooler, and there are moments of normalcy even during it. Beriith starts another serious relationship, with a woman named Vapula, who is a soldier like he is. She gets killed in combat later in the war, after making a rash decision, and Beriith develops horrible guilt over her death. Eventually, the people's union's forces the monarchist faction to back down. The monarchist's leadership is forced into exile, and a painful and slow rebuilding of the country begins. Beriith hopes to return to his pre-war work, but for a while he works as a manual laborer, helping to rebuild infrastructure.

At some point, he visits his parents, their hometown having survived the war relatively untouched. At this point they've basically adopted the apprentice they took, and he is more like the is the son they wanted, rather than Beriith, the son they had, but never really understood. The meeting is awkward. His parents have planned to give their business to their apprentice, and Beriith feels more like an outsider than anything. Beriith leaves feeling awkward, and while he doesn't know it, this is the last time he'll ever see or talk to his parents.

Beriith never gets to properly get back to his work, because not too soon after the civil war ends, the neighboring nation of the pseudomonarchia invade.

OLDER ADULT: The Pseudomonarchia invasion is worse than the civil war was. The exiled monarchist leadership collaborates with the invading force, giving them access to some intel and insider information. The Goet forces are scattered and unprepared, still recovering from the civil war. The Pseudomonarchia take over lands, but are willing to let the Goet stay, if they agree to become underclass. Some stay, but most choose to fight back and, eventually as the war becomes hopeless, flee. Beriith works in more organized military efforts, but also occasionally splinters off to work alone, utilizing his experience with the terrain and nature to guide refugee groups.

At some point during the war, Beriith is taken to a POW camp (pictured) where he spends about six months until a revolt lets him and several others escape. The camp isn't the worst it could be, but there is forced labor (it's re-education through labor kind of a camp) and while they actually get fed, it's not enough to let Beriith keep his bulk, so he actually loses muscle mass during this time, and this is pretty much the low point of his life.  Even after escaping, he is particularly unhinged, and spends the tail end of the war being dangerous, unpredictable and on so many uppers to keep himself upright.

Eventually, the Pseudomonarchia take over most of the Goet lands. The survivors either move to refugee settlements in nearby friendly areas, or are pushed to small territories unclaimed by the Pseudomonarchia. Most people alive during this time have lost friends and family, and there is currently little hope of any attempts at reclaiming land. The survivors start building new communities in areas they have settled in.

CURRENT: Beriith as he is in "current" time. After the war ended (though there are still occasional conflicts around the "new" border, so ended is perhaps a wrong word), Beriith lives in a community near the Northern Gnomish border. He has a house there but spends little time there. Suffering from an intense survivor's guilt he finds it hard to stay with his kin, and so he decides to become a traveling swordsman, working mainly as a bodyguard around the [name pending, but basically fantasy europe]. He has undiagnosed PTSD from his experiences, and he manages however he can (often not well).

Then, suddenly, one time when he is actually visiting his own home, he gets magically whisked away by a summoning ritual gone wrong and finds himself bound to the service of a certain mage...

[underratedbitch-number13]

Part 3 : Elpis

A/N: I know that I have been gone for very long and almost abandoned these series. But I have exams going, and yesterday's paper was one of the shittiest ones I've ever written and I was feeling super down. So I came back to finish the angst, lol.

Anyways, I think it's lowkey rushed, but I hope everyone likes it :)

Also It felt so weird writing this chapters because I kept getting new ideas and I wanted to keep writing, but I didn't want to make it tooo long, though it's still pretty lengthy.

Repeating for clarity, MC DID NOT KNOW Mammon at all. She's a complete random stranger who happened to be there.

This part is going to be pretty heavy, so please proceed with caution.

Part 3 : Elpis

(Mammon x F!MC)

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Mammon is almost about to attempt suicide, bullying, verbal abuse, physical abuse, and mental abuse, blood, self harm, nightmares.

A LOT OF ANGST!!!

If you are sensitive to any of these, please do not read. This could be triggering.

Written in Third Person POV. Also, If there are any grammatical errors, please feel free to correct them.

Number of words : 2.5k

|| ☞ Part 1 || ☞ Part 2 || ☞ Part 4(coming end of April 2024) ||

———————————————————————

Simeon woke up with a gasp.

Beads of sweat lined his forehead as he desperately tried to calm his erratic breathing. It was the 6th time in a row.

He had another vision.

Simeon and Luke had temporarily returned to Celestial Realm after Luke fell seriously ill. Luke had almost recovered, but he needed a few more days to heal completely before they returned for the exchange program.

Simeon and Luke weren't aware of anything that had transpired back in Devildom in their absence, because they had left before the video was released.

But since the past few days, Simeon has been seeing terrible visions.

Visions of Mammon's death followed by utter chaos among his brothers, then a war with the human world. He vividly remembers seeing the Sorcerer's Society up in arms against the 6 brothers.

Solomon was there too, fighting against the brothers.

Simeon felt shivers when recalled how brutally Solomon ended Asmodeus's life after using their pact to his advantage. The entire war was a bloody mess with many dead, including Belphegor, Asmodeus, and Leviathan.

His visions never showed him the end of the war, so he never knew who won.

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand Simeon decided it was time to talk to Michael. He needed to inform him about the visions and apologize for not telling sooner.

Getting out of his bed, Simeon got ready to visit Michael.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Michael appeared perplexed when Simeon told him about his visions.

Visions were not a part of Simeon's powers. Now he was seeing a recurring vision, that too one about a war between humans and demons?

Michael sent Simeon back after reassuring him that he'd get in touch with him about this matter soon. Unsatisfied with Michael's answer Simeon reluctantly headed back to his place.

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach and he couldn't shake it off.

He cared about Solomon and the brothers, and he had grown very attached to them. These visions were like nightmares to him, and he felt helpless. He really wanted to do something to prevent all of this.

The thing that perplexed him the most was Mammon's death.

He did not know the cause of his death, he only knew that his body was found in the human realm with his heart ripped out.

Seeing his brother's body in that condition had incurred Lucifer's wrath, equivalent to what he had seen during the war before his fall.

The brothers had concluded that humans were somehow responsible for Mammon's death and bathed the human world in blood. Simeon's head hurt just thinking about it.

"Father," he prayed. "Please protect everyone."

———————————————————————

♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

Barbatos and Diavolo had known. 

They were aware of the tragedy that was about to occur, after all, Barbatos had already checked every timeline.

Unfortunately, all of them only had one outcome, Mammon's death.

Diavolo was devastated upon learning this. He had failed! He failed as the future King! How could he not protect his subject, his dear friend Mammon?

Barbatos himself felt a little lost, his stoic persona wavered as remembered what he what he saw. Although he never openly showed his affection for Mammon, he cared. He cared more than anyone would believe.

It was hard for either of them to digest the fact

The panic slowly started to set in.

Diavolo insisted on talking to Mammon immediately, but he was stopped by Barbatos, who informed him of how every effort made by them in other timelines had done more damage than help.

In one timeline, when they tried talking to Mammon about his mental health, he denied everything. He laughed it off and replied with a "Nobody can hurt the Great Mammon!"

In other timelines, if they punished the students for bullying him, they would isolate themselves even further from him and would call him a snitch or a baby. And if they tried to stop Asmodeus from releasing the video by going to the past, another video of Mammon would always surface.

In the end, they couldn't change the future.

———————————————————————

♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

The winds picked up as Barbatos chanted mantras to invoke his most powerful magic.

Diavolo stood not far away, looking at the figure at a distance with a grave look on his face, his demon form emerging as Mammon stepped closer to the edge.

The Prince of Hell had never imagined that a day like this would ever come. The guilt in his heart was immeasurable knowing he had failed his dear subject, and he had almost been too late to realize that.

Now they had no option but to do this. Barbatos was going to freeze the time on Earth for a couple of hours until the full moon ended and then erase his memories from the past few months.

The next moon full as powerful as this one was three months away and that should give them more time to do something.

His eyes turned to Barbatos on his left as he stood in a trance-like state with his eyes closed, a dark aura emitting from him. He was almost done with the process.

"δεθιλΠγπξΨυΣἀἧΪΏ"

Barbatos began chanting louder, and his eyes slowly started opening to release his powers.

Diavolo turned his attention back to Mammon to check on him, and his eyes widened at what he saw. “Barbatos stop!” He yelled and grabbed the butler’s arm to break his concentration.

Barbatos fell on his knees, eyes opened wide and bloodshot, tears pouring out of them. "My Lord," Barbatos gasped, completely out of breath. "Why?"

Diavolo winced at Barbatos' state."Barbatos, I apologize. But we don't need to intervene anymore. He already has."

———————————————————————

♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

Silver butterflies.

They were a sign of God’s presence.

Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer were the only demons who knew about those butterflies. They are usually seen when someone about to die is about to ascend to heaven OR it means that God was around.

Mammon, who was surrounded, couldn’t see the silver butterflies dancing around him.

They formed a line that was going in a particular direction. Almost like it was linking Mammon with something.

Or someone.

A human girl?

Diavolo and Barbatos watched from a distance, as the girl approached the bridge. She too was surrounded by the silver butterflies.

And she could see them.

There was awe on her face as she stared at those beautiful miracles fluttering around her. The bright full moon, the silver butterflies, and the gentle cool winds made the scene look magical.

Diavolo and Barbatos watched as the girl followed the butterflies giggling, not noticing Mammon.

Until she did. Her eyes fell on Mammon's figure, still in his human form, standing on the ledge with a painfully serene look on his face. The silver butterflies long forgotten, she ran towards Mammon with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

"No," she gasped, grabbing Mammon and pulling him down. “Please, please don’t do it.”

"What da hell?" Mammon cursed. "Who are ya?"

The human who was smiling and giggling just a few moments ago now had heavy tears flowing down her face.

"Please don't do this."

"What is it to ya?" Mammon yanked his hand out of the human's hands.

"It's not worth it, please. Don't do it," she repeated.

Mammon sighed irritatedly. "Look human, ya should go back. Ya don't know me and it's not yer place to tell me what to do."

"Please, it will hurt your loved ones--"

"I DON'T HAVE LOVED ONES." Mammon roared. "I am a scumbag, I don't deserve to live or be loved."

"That's not true!"

"What do ya know?!"

"Yes, I don't anything!! But what I do know is that nothing in this world is worth more than your life. It doesn't matter who loves whom. It's never going to be worth more than you!"

Mammon stayed silent.

"Why should you die for their sins? Why should you suffer because they aren't good people? I'm sorry you had to go through whatever you did, I'm sorry you don't think you deserve to be loved, and I'm really sorry that you find solace in the idea of dying. But please please please for the love of God, please don't do this"

Mammon wanted to scoff at the human. For the love of God? His father whom he betrayed for his wretched brother who has abandoned him now?

Karma, it's probably Karma, Mammon thinks.

He didn't want to listen to the human in front of him, after all, she was speaking the truth. He shouldn't have to suffer for his brothers.

But he was tired. Mammon didn't feel like he had enough strength to be strong another day. He had forgotten how to love himself, and without love, he knew he would shrivel.

Death was really the only option left.

Mammon realized that he shouldn't waste his time any further talking to this human. She was too nice for him and it's pretty late for a human girl to be out anyways.

"Look, I get what ya tryin' to say-"

"No," she stopped him from speaking, taking hold of his arm again. " I am not going to let you do it. You better be prepared to kill me if you want me to let go of you."

"Have ya lost yer mind?" Mammon looked at her with disbelief.

"No, I have not. But I will lose my mind because of guilt if I ignore this and let you do it."

Why? Why was this human going so far for him? Pity? Guilt?

"I will be there for you. We can be friends."

Mammon scoffed. What an arrogant human.

"Yer as stupid as ya look. Ya think I won't kill ya? And what makes ya think yer sob speech is enough to not make me jump? Ya only wanna be ma friend outta pity and I don't want any of that. Ya don't havta feel guilty or anythin. The world is not yer child an yer not responsible for it. Go home."

Mammon forced himself out of the human's grip and stood up. He looked at her, as she stared blankly at the ground.

He felt bad for being rude to her, but he had no choice. Mammon didn't like pity. After giving her one last look and climbed the edge again. He was about to switch to his demon form when a thought crossed his mind

Won't the human get terrified if she sees his demon form? What if she has nightmares?

"Give me one minute," she spoke interrupting Mammon's train of thoughts. She whipped out her phone and began typing furiously.

Is she calling for help? Will I have to deal with more annoying humans?

"Done," she declared and tossed her phone to the side of the bridge. It landed sideways and you could hear it crack.

What the--?

"Can you move a little and make some space for me? " She asked Mammon, coming over to where he was standing.

Mammon stood on a small ledge at the end of the bridge. It was the darkest corner and that's why he chose it. Although it was small, it could still hold two people.

"What are ya doing?" Mammon questioned, as the human struggled to get on the ledge.

"Joining you."

"What? Why? Human, have ya seriously lost yer mind?"

"No."

"Then what hell is yer problem ?! Why can't ya just leave me alone? Was that irritating speech of yours jus' empty words? Does the same logic not apply to ya?"

"My brother committed suicide six months ago."

What--??

"I was the one who found his body. It was dark when I entered his room and his legs hit my face. He was hanging from the ceiling."

Mammon was left speechless at this sudden confession.

"I often wondered you know, why did he do it. He didn't leave a letter, a note, or even give a proper goodbye. He was my only family. I haven't moved on from his death yet. What if I had paid attention, would I have noticed that my always happy and smiling older brother was actually struggling? Did I ever notice how tired he looked or how lifeless his eyes were? If I had, maybe he would still be here."

There was a pause, as she struggled to continue.

"Maybe if I was a better sister, maybe if I wasn't such a burden, then he wouldn't have died. I feel so pathetic you know. So useless. If anything he deserved to live more than I do. He worked so many jobs to ensure we both had a roof over our heads and food on our plates. He sacrificed most of his life to make sure that my life was good, and what did I do for him? Nothing."

"Hey stop. Yer not to blame for anything that happened, and ya don't havta to tell me if it's so painful--"

"No, I am telling you all of this because I want you know to that I don't have a reason to live either. I had lost my will to live the day my brother died, but I kept going because everyone told me that my brother would've wanted me to be happy. I tried, I tried so hard to be happy but I couldn't. And today when I saw you on the ledge with the same expression as my brother on the day he killed himself, I felt the world slip under my feet. If I can't stop you from killing yourself, it's going to destroy me. So why not join you? I always feared dying alone anyway."

She had successfully climbed up and now stood beside Mammon.

"If you don't mind, can I request something? Can we hold hands when we jump?"

Mammon could tell she was trembling, he could sense her fear.

Humans truly are the most annoying species in the whole universe.

"Tch, stupid human," Mammon grumbled and picked up the human in bridal style. He got down from the ledge and walked away from the corner, still holding her in his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Shuddup, I'm taking ya to the mental hospital. Ya need some serious help."

"Do you know the address to one?"

"No, but ya will tell me. I know ya know."

"Fine, I'll tell you. But can we please stop at my place for a bit? I have to pick up a couple of things."

"Tch tch, Annoying little human."

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♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎ ♣︎

———————————————————————

ALSO GUYS I AM SO SORRY FOR ABANDONING THIS. I WILL FINISH THIS SERIES BY THE END OF THIS MONTH, I PROMISE.

And also thank you to everyone who took their time to read so far. I really really appreciate it.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Please let me know your thoughts on how you feel about this.

If You Want To Be Tagged For The Next Part, You Can Comment Below

TAG LIST:

@vera-deville @obeythebutler @macherise @kimpsuwuw @beels-burger-babe @angeladore @rose-lord-of-simps @randomperson46 @depressedsilverloser @ilysia @mammonsturtle @anni1600 @devildomsgod @devilfemdom @leviathans-watching @asmosmainhoe @eternallydaydreaming2015 @gallantys @macherise @unnecessaryshenanigan @mythsofkairos @fandumshippr @keqingsfavbestie @siniy606@nightshadeheart11 @luckyauthorlampknight @gaylords-posts @mmeowxd @of-thegreedgod @veras-fanfic-reblogs @undeaddevildom @scxrletss @devildombimbo @i-passionately-love-angst @marisely03

[lokidokieokie]

Love on the Line

Summary: Y/n's playful prank calls to Loki turn serious when she calls him for what she believes could be the last time

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Fem!Agent!Reader

Warning(s): mentions of death, bad humour, angst if you squint, love confessions, fluff

You had always been best friends with Loki. You two had met when he had first arrived on Earth for his penance, and you had bonded over your shared love of mischief and adventure. Over time, your feelings for him had grown into something more, but you had always been too afraid to tell him.

That didn't stop you from pranking him, though. You loved to call him up and pretend like you were about to confess your love, only to reveal that it was just another joke. Loki would always play along, pretending to be disappointed that you weren't serious.

After all, it was probably the only time you would even get close to confessing.

"Hey, Loki," you said, calling him up one day. "I have something important to tell you."

"What is it?" he asked, his voice cautious.

"I love you," you said, trying to keep a straight face.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Loki let out a sigh. "Y/n, you know that's not funny."

You couldn't help but giggle. "I know, I know. I just couldn't resist."

Loki chuckled. "Well, don't get too attached to that dagger of yours. You never know when someone might come along and steal it."

"Ha! As if anyone could get past me," you said, feeling smug.

"That's what you think," Loki said, his voice teasing. "But I'm the god of mischief, remember? I can make anything happen."

You rolled your eyes. "Sure you can."

But as much as you enjoyed teasing Loki, there were times when you longed to tell him how you really felt. And one day, you found yourself on a mission that felt different. You were up against a powerful enemy, and you didn't think you were going to make it out alive. In that moment, the only person you could think to call was Loki.

You dialed his number, heart racing as you waited for him to answer. When he did, you took a deep breath and said, "Loki, I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I love you," you said, your voice trembling. "I know I've joked about it before, but this time... this time, I mean it."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and you feared that Loki was angry or disgusted by your confession. But then he spoke, his voice soft and full of emotion.

"I love you too," he said. "I've loved you for a long time, Y/n. I just never knew how to tell you."

Tears filled your eyes as you listened to him speak. You had never felt so relieved and happy in your life. But then, in the midst of your joy, a sense of dread washed over you. You knew that this could be the last time you spoke to him.

"Loki," you said, your voice shaking. "I don't think I'm going to make it out of here, today."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Loki spoke again. "What are you talking about? Where are you?"

"I'm on a mission," you said. "It's dangerous, and I don't think I can make it out."

Loki's voice was urgent now. "Y/n, listen to me. You have to get out of there. You can't give up. You're too strong to give up."

"I know," you said, wiping away tears. "But I just wanted you to know... I wanted you to know how I feel before it's too late."

"Y/n, please don't talk like that," Loki said, his voice pleading. "You're going to make it out of there. I know you will."

"I hope so," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

There was a moment of silence before Loki spoke again. "Y/n, I need you to promise me something."

"What?" you asked.

"I need you to promise me that you'll come back to me," he said, his voice firm. "No matter what happens, you have to come back to me."

You felt a surge of determination in your chest. "I promise," you said. "I'll come back to you. I won't give up."

Loki let out a shaky breath. "Good. I need you, Y/n. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Same here," you said, feeling tears stream down your face. "I love you, Loki."

"I love you too, Y/n," he said. "Now get out of there. I'll be waiting for you."

You hung up the phone, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. You couldn't let Loki down. You had to make it back to him.

The rest of the mission was a blur. You fought with all your might, determined to survive. And in the end, you did. You emerged from the battle battered and bruised, but alive.

As soon as you could, you made your way back to Loki. When you saw him waiting for you, his expression full of relief and love, you ran to him and threw your arms around him.

"I promised I'd come back," you said, tears streaming down your face.

"I knew you would," he said, holding you tight. "I knew you were too strong to give up."

You looked up at him, feeling more in love than ever before. "I meant what I said, you know. I love you."

"I know," he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "And I love you. Always."

A/N I'm tired...

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee   @dryyoursaltyoceantears

[ladysomething]

4 other lestappen fics after this one? 😏

hehehe well now you've done it!!!!

behold, the other fics in waiting, including snippets from what I've already written of them.

in likely posting order, they are:

Post Aus GP fic where Max and Charles have been hooking up casually for a while and they both need to let some steam out after the race. daddy kink!

"Charles doesn’t text Max back until just past midnight. 

It’s a little earlier than Max expected, really. Back when every win for the team was hard fought, Max usually didn’t stumble back to his hotel until after the sun rose. 

Then again, if the team won, it was usually because it was him. Not his teammate. The circumstances are different. 

Charles replies with a room number, then says, I’m already back. Come when you can. 

Max see’s no point in waiting around—he’s been itching for this for hours, and Charles probably knows it. Instead, he quietly pushes back the sheets of his bed and slips out. He puts jeans on over his boxers, and then pulls on a sweatshirt, and pretends he can’t see Kelly watching him in the low light of his lit up phone screen. 

She doesn’t say anything when he slips the hotel key in his pocket, nor when he walks out the door, so Max doesn’t either. He knows she more than suspects he’s having an affair, but he’s not sure she know who it’s with. By now, she’s surely clued in to the fact that it’s somebody associated with F1 and who is always wherever he is."

hanhaki au where Hanahaki is a chronic illness developed when one keeps their feelings/emotions inside, and Max and Charles are both suffering from it.

"“You really haven’t spoken to him?” Daniel asks as Max picks the next track. 

Max rolls his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he tries to figure out how to answer. 

“I didn’t really want to talk to anybody after I was diagnosed,” he says eventually, hoping it’s enough to sate both Daniel and his own symptoms. His chest always gets tight when he talks about Charles these days, no matter how honest he is. Francois says it’s because he’s been living with the disease for a long time, now; that Hanahaki is degenerative, and soon he might not even be able to think about Charles in passing without coughing up flowers. 

“Sure, but Charles isn’t you,” Daniel answers. “He’s a yapper. It’s how he processes things. And being about to talk to someone who actually understands would be extra helpful, I’m sure.” 

Max knows all of that, obviously. He’s in love with the man—of course he knows it. 

Max just . . . doesn’t know how to be that person for him. He doesn’t know how to be comforting, he wasn’t built for it. He was built for ruthlessness, precision, for seeking out weakness and using them to his advantage."

fake Max autobiography that he releases in 2033. parts of the story are how the people he used to be friends with (so people on the current grid) react to what he reveals in the book, and then one who chapter is just a whole fake chapter from the memoir. that's the chapter I've written, so here's a piece from it!

"I don’t think there’s anything I can really do to make up for what I did to Charles. He and I haven’t spoken since I retired, in case you were wondering. 

Even the email exchange I talked about earlier actually went through our managers. 

Honestly, I don’t even think I deserve his forgiveness. He put up with me when no-one else would, loved me fully and completely, put me back together, tore me apart, then put me back together again. 

In some ways, I think he saved me. 

In other ways, he saved himself from me. 

I’m endlessly grateful for both. 

I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I can recognise now that a lot of my behaviours were because of the trauma I experienced at the hands of my father. I can also recognise that I need to take responsibility for them, because I was a grown adult making decisions of my own free will. 

I’m paying my penance for it, regardless. 

There is no chance that I will ever love anybody the way I loved Charles. It’s just too unlikely, that I could be lucky enough to meet a second person on this planet that made me feel like he did. 

But you don’t need to feel pity. You don’t need to be angry with me, either. I can assure you, I do plenty enough of both for all of us. 

And I’m fine. Life is fine. I’m far from unhappy. 

I know what I sacrificed. I know what I gave up. I know what I traded, to win what I won, to have what I do. 

And if there is one lesson my father taught me that I’m grateful for, it’s this: 

I know that I can bear a burden."

finally, a body swap!au in which Charles wishes to be World Champion, and instead body swaps with Max.

"“Make your decision, Mister Leclerc,” Althea says, not even looking up at him as she continues to sort her things. “Do you want to be Champion?” 

Charles’ breath hitches in his chest. 

“Yes,” he says decisively. He knows he can pick a secret that will satisfy Althea without it being life-destroyed. “Do I tell you the secret now?” 

He sifts through his memories, trying to come up with something he might be comfortable sharing. 

But all that comes up are things he would never say; how he’d once told Arthur that their parents didn’t love him and then felt terrible when his little brother had burst into tears; that he’d cried after having sex with a girl for the first and only time because he’d so desperately wished he could just like it and be normal; that he’d told Jules that he was in love with him and Jules had awkwardly patted his head and said it was probably just a crush and that he’d get over it, and, worse, that Jules had been right and he’d moved his attentions to a boy his own age by the end of the week; the terrible, awful, things he feels for—

Althea inhales sharply, eyes sliding closes. 

“Yes,” she breathes. “That.” 

Charles rips his hand away from hers, breathing deeply. “You—can you—” 

She raises a brow at him, pressing her red-painted lips together. 

“Get out of my head,” he commands hotly, standing up so fast his chair falls back, slamming against the ground."

[hongtiddiez]

much ado about shin

so i wanted to put my thoughts and feelings down on the trajectory of Bake Me Please yesterday but i had a splitting migraine and couldn't thoughts well, so here it is today.

i've said it in the past but Shin doesn't know how to give affection, he doesn't know what it means to love, because he's never had proper examples of what that looks like. we're modeled by our environment and Shin has grown up very isolated from everything, so he's wildly out of his depth when it comes to more tender feelings. i said last week i believed we would see Shin try and use food, the only instance where he does understand love, to try and apologize to Peach and i was delighted when it turned out i was right.

this doesn't mean i'm not still infuriated with Shin, though. his constant ego is tiring, the fact he thinks he invented the fucking torta caprese (i don't think you were around in 1920 Shin, sorry,) the way he called Peach's dream stupid, the fact he doesn't understand why Guy would leave to pursue his own dreams (again, i wonder if Shin has ever had a dream,) and the way he just doesn't. fucking. listen.

we did see a glimpse this week, a little nod that Shin has changed. he grows defensive around Peach because that's the source of his hurt right now but when he was alone in the kitchen with Atom he didn't lash out, wasn't rude to him, he was soft and kind and even vulnerable as he hid his tears. Shin is changing, he's keeping good habits for the most part, which is good to see. now if only he could be that way around Peach.

while i don't understand why we're supposed to keep giving Shin our patience and understanding (the narrative really hasn't done much to redeem him in my eyes) i do appreciate from a narrative standpoint that we're being shown that impulsively falling into bed with someone with little communication or understanding does not a good relationship make.

Shin and Peach had no discussion of their feelings for each other before or after sleeping together and it became very clear very quickly that they still don't even really know each other. Shin had no idea about Peach's dream, barely knows anything about how he grew up, and has shared very little of himself with Peach - and even asks Peach to keep their relationship a secret with zero explanation. (i don't know what you expected him to think Shin you fucking doorknob.) they're good at flirting, at falling into bed together, at being playful, but they're absolutely dog shit at talking.

you know who isn't bad at talking?

here i go again. but honestly, Guy has always talked to Peach about what bothers him, what he likes, what he wants to do with his life. this is the number one reason i won't classify Guy as an incel "nice guy" character (Oab) because he does genuinely care about Peach and what goes on in Peach's life. he's listened to Peach complain about Shin, watched them get together, and has comforted Peach numerous times. he knows Peach better than his own boyfriend, fling, whatever does and i think that's probably what is fueling so much of his frustration and petty actions.

i also think this relationship between Peach and Guy is why so many of us would rather see those two get together. they communicate, recent events not withstanding, they have fun together and have genuinely really liked each other (platonically) since episode 1. your partner should be your best friend and aside from Atom i believe Guy is the best friend Peach has. they would probably work so well together, support each other, and make the most amazing bakery of Peach's dreams together - if only Peach could stop giving a shit about Shin.

and like, the heart wants what the heart wants or whatever. sure. but i'm genuinely very concerned we're going to see Peach apologizing to Shin in the finale and Shin taking no accountability or it being brushed off as "that's just how Shin is." i need to see Shin apologize, whether with words, actions, or something, for calling Peach's dream stupid. above everything else that absolutely needs to be addressed because that's something Peach will remember forever. our brain has a funny way of latching on to the worst things people have said to us and rotating them in a microwave.

i would respect the show so fucking much if Shin and Peach didn't get back together, if they went their separate ways. is it a cute ending to a love story? absolutely not, but it would be so realistic and even healthy. sometimes you meet someone and it's fun and the sex is good but it's just never going to work and you can't change people (they can only change themselves.) i would even appreciate if they went a 'right person, wrong time' approach; maybe a time skip where Peach has his dream shop, Shin walks in, and they can try again.

all i know is i REALLY don't want to see this all put on Peach's shoulders, and i don't really want Guy to be pigeon holed into being a villain either. Shin's being fucking goofy and i think Guy's antics are the wake up call he needs (when he wakes up from his.. heart attack? embolism? stroke?) to get his shit together and treat Peach right.

but if he shoves Peach one more time i'm ripping his arms off and beating him with them, that's for sure.

[fictionkinfessions]

what a wild experience it is to be relatively young while also having a large number of past lives constantly popping up in my memory.

i've been nonhuman more times than i know, but just like i suited myself then, humanity fits me perfectly now. i have more estranged family members than the combined amount of everyone i've met in this life, but still act awkward around my blood relatives because i haven't quite gotten confident in this new self yet. i've worked any imaginable number of jobs but my new first one still seems just as intimidating, at least socially. i've held unbelievable, unsustainable power and more times than not used it for good, for the sake of my people, but i feel guilty accepting simple help from my loved ones. every past and present social convention is more suggestion to me now, yet still i follow, knowing there's nothing worse than being above or below everything where the only part of you others can see is your shadow.

where i once was the pitch black void of destruction for my enemies, i'm now small and soft and doting, and the craziest part is, i was always both.

i cycle between feeling intimidated by/estranged to those older than me and thinking of people my age or older as kids. just like most anyone, they're rambunctious and unafraid and openly, adorably don't know what they're doing because, in their eyes, it's the beginning of their first time. i've done that, too, but remembering it from the perspective of beyond keeps me from experiencing it quite the same way again. the amount of times even before adulthood i have been referred to as an "old soul" is comical- i am old, so old that my highest desire is to teach, to care, to protect others whenever they need it, yet i'll never be too old to remain young in the ways that matter. every menial "coming of age" thing i have done and will go on to do i have done once, twice, a thousand times, but this time is not special in that it won't be when i stop getting excited. my brain prevents me from remembering it all, but if i've learned anything, it's that excitement and joy are all that remain when all else fades away. knowing this means every choice i make will not be a missed or seized opportunity, rather a dedication to love and life itself.

i've had the hard truths of existence carved into my mind over and over. i've been broken and reassembled and built up to tumble back again, yet each time i move on, the burning remnants become nothing more than a fuzzy afterimage that superimposes itself on my being, now entirely different in the exact same way. really, that's the beauty of it; a different body and mind with the same information will come to a different conclusion, even if similar. no set of hands can sculpt a lump of clay the exact same way twice. i am the clay and i am the hands and i am the eyes that gaze upon my self-creation in admiration, in a way some may wish to but cannot in quite as much depth. one day i will hold an entirely new form and choose a new, yet equally true, metaphor to describe the ways in which i've changed. and then, too, i will be young and grown, and grow up while remaining young, and love relentlessly, unconditionally. in this, i will never be alone.

collectively, i'd say my age outranks that of this universe itself. but just like it, i am still a kid, marvelling at the gift of life with bright eyes despite every wild possibility. beauty is within the love you create. so i say to you, another irreplicable creation within the crushing embrace of existence:

reread that cringe book you like, or replay that game that used to be your favorite as a kid, or pick up the hobby you've wanted to try that you know the people around you would think is lame. rant about the most seemingly meaningless things just because you wanna. be as spiritual or non-spiritual as you wish. embrace your various identities and interests with a whole heart, and if they change, let them. you change every day you exist, and you will never be precisely as you were or will be, which makes the you you are now infinitely valuable. if your people are too blinded by the biases of this world to make peace with the harmless things that bring you joy, find new people who can admire the story of each smudged fingerprint in your surface just as readily as every smooth curve and minute detail. whether it be through friendship, romance or family, let yourself be shaped by the influence of others in that irreplicable way you would never achieve on your own. stand on your business when you have to, act the way you feel, speak your mind. make mistakes and learn from them, and make them again, and learn something entirely new. take it from me: you will never run out of things to learn or to love, and that's the greatest gift of all. learn what you need and what you can, and most importantly of all, learn what you love so that you might have the time to love it for as long as possible. remember your time is limited, but acknowledge anything you do to fulfill yourself or something important/necessary to you is not a waste, despite how limited you may be. take whatever pace makes you comfortable, no matter what vindictive minds may insist, and live a life full of all the things you and your loved ones desire, so that no matter when the day comes that you move on, you will know it was worth it.

and, if you can, leave a positive impact on those you meet who could use your irreplicable influence. never force yourself to become beholden to another (just as any other shouldn't be to you) and uphold your personal safety before anyone else's, but if you have the chance to change something for the better, don't choose to let it go. if nothing else, you'll thank yourself for it, as will i. i know you're struggling, and you are trying, and i love you. i believe in you. as long as you always protect and value your own voice, you will live in the best way. never give up on that.

(p.s: also don't give up on your sleep schedule! i'm sitting in tumblr writing this at 4 am on a friday morning. when this is posted, chances are you will never know me or even want to, but remember those you do know and hold them fondly in your heart. and especially appreciate those who choose to work for the benefit of others, like mpc! (thank you for providing this space for people to share things they otherwise couldn't.))

to whoever you might be today, take it easy out there.

- a friend

x

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

It's March and Jason's fifteen in this chapter.

Chapters: 27/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Spring Break

As the years went on, Barbara gifted Jason a computer of his own, and he took the PSAT's for the first time. To celebrate his results, Jim allowed Jason to go up to Metropolis with his friends. "Got your—." Barbara pointed to her ear to see if Jason had comms with him. Jason nodded. "Heated blanket? Extra socks? Phone charger? Kryptonite? Headphones?"

"Whoa! Hold on, Kryptonite? Why would I need Kryptonite? I'm not meeting Superman, and if I was gonna meet Superman, I definitely wouldn't want to attack him," Jason chuckled. Barbara smiled.

"Just keeping you on your toes," Barbara replied as she opened her arms and hugged him. "You're so grown up. I can't believe you're gonna be sixteen this year!"

"Barb?" Jason whispered.

"Yeah?" she answered, feeling a little more emotional than she was used to.

"You're cutting off my air supply," Jason strained, and she let go and punched his shoulder. "And I'm not that grown up. It's just my PSAT score. Next year is when I get to take the real thing. I think by then, I'll be all caught up with you."

"Don't act like you aren't excited about this trip," Barbara teased. Jason chuckled.

"I am excited... It's the first time I've ever left Gotham. I hate that I was too scared to do Lenaea this year... But maybe that was a good thing. That's a little too far too soon, don't you think?" Jason asked. Barbara pouted playfully. "I'm asking the wrong person. You think I'm old enough to go across the country for a school trip but not old enough to work under your supervision." She pinched his cheek.

"Your chances of dying in Oregon would've been low. Let's leave it there for now," Barbara replied.

"For now?" Jason asked.

"We'll see how you do on your driver's test on your birthday," Barbara whispered as she straightened out his jacket. Jason grabbed her hands.

"Babs, you're joking... You're kidding, right?" Jason asked. Barbara shook her head, and he embraced her.

"Okay, now go put your shoes on. Mr. Polishuk and Number Five will be here any minute," Barbara smiled.

"Oh, you're not gonna believe this. Reese and A.J. like this one. Her name's Emma... And get this, I found out she's having a girl," Jason replied, "But that's a secret. She told me on accident at A.J.'s birthday party. I haven't told Reese or A.J. or Dad, just you." Barbara messed up his hair.

"How is A.J.?" Barbara asked.

"Oh, he's good. He and Mason are going out," Jason replied, "But that's also a secret because Reese and Mason are mad at each other."

"Look at you, the keeper of secrets," Barbara teased. Jason shrugged playfully as the doorbell rang.

"I got it! I got it!" Jim yelled. Jason waved at Barbara as he took his suitcase to the living room and slipped on his shoes. Jason smiled and stood next to Jim for a moment before embracing him. "Be good, okay?" Jason smiled and nodded.

"Love you, Dad. I'll see you Saturday, and I swear I'll take tons of pictures," Jason promised. Jason waved one last time as he followed the Polishuks down to their van. Once they were on the freeway, all the kids started to talk amongst themselves, except Reese, who went straight to sleep.

"Do you think it's finally gonna happen?" A.J. asked Jason.

Jason's ears grew hot, and he shook his head. "Oh, I dunno. I know it's weird that I still haven't kissed him, but it's like every time we go in for a kiss, something horrible happens. Remember at the beach I tried to kiss him, and my nose started bleeding? Or when he went in to kiss me at the spring carnival and threw up over my shoulder? I think we're doomed to never kiss," Jason replied. Reese started to snore, and A.J. laughed.

"You're waiting for a perfect moment, and with Reese, that's never gonna come. He had his first kiss in seventh grade—."

Reese stretched out. "Ignore that. I'm gonna kiss you when we get to the Daily Planet. I've already decided," Reese smiled with his eyes closed. Jason turned to give Reese a peck on the cheek just as Reese turned his head, and they kissed. Jason let out a scream. Everyone else shrieked in surprise.

"What are you screaming for?" Casey yelled as she tried to calm herself back down.

A.J. laughed so hard he started to cry. "The irony," A.J. laughed.

Jason pulled his shirt up to his forehead out of embarrassment. "Please unlock the doors so I can end it all," Jason groaned. Reese held back a laugh as he tried to get Jason to show his face.

"It wasn't bad. I definitely have to say it was worth the wait even if it was an accident," Reese reassured him. Jason revealed his face, and Reese kissed him on the cheek.

They all went back to talking and laughing before the boys drifted off to sleep. The girls continued to talk to each other in the very back of the car. Jason was in and out of sleep for most of the ride there, and he finally awakened to look out the window. "Are we there?" Jason asked. Mr. Polishuk chuckled.

"We're there," he answered. Mr. Polishuk pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. Reese and A.J. woke up and elbowed each other playfully. "Come on, kids. Let's get settled in, and then I'll let you all go."

Everyone piled out of the car and got their bags, and Reese dropped everything to help Emma get her things. Mr. Polishuk went ahead of them to get checked in, and he came back with the keys. She smiled and whispered something to him, and Reese smiled. "Love you too, Emma," Reese replied as he carried both his bags and hers up to their hotel rooms. They all put their bags in the rooms, and they promised Emma and Mr. Polishuk they'd be back before dinnertime. Jason went with Reese straight to the park and hung around eating hot dogs and waiting for a Superman sighting.

"Jason, do you think we'll still be together when we're in our twenties?" Reese asked.

"I think so... But we don't have to worry about that now. That's years from now," Jason replied, "What'd you get on yours?" Jason pointed to the hot dog Reese had.

"Wanna try?" Reese asked as he held it up to Jason's face, and Jason took a bite.

"Mm!" Jason exclaimed as he finished chewing and went in for another bite. "Is that ham? On a hot dog?"

Reese kissed Jason's cheek and went to get two more of the same hot dog. "You should consider entering the school hot dog eating contest this year," Reese teased as Jason took a sip of water.

"Are the hot dogs any good?" Jason asked. Reese laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, they're delicious. Kind of plain, though," Reese replied. Jason started on another one.

"What does the winner get?" Jason asked.

"It's for charity, so it's like one hundred a hot dog for the charity of your choice, and like at the pep rally, a person in a hot dog suit gives you a sash and a crown," Reese laughed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget the prestigious hot dog coronation," Jason grinned, "Hm... Maybe I'll do it."

"How many hot dogs can you eat? Like realistically speaking," Reese asked. Jason finished chewing before he looked over at Reese.

"Like in one sitting, I'd say maybe like nine if I was on an empty stomach and they were plain. I could probably hold down ten and a half, but no more than that," Jason answered casually.

"Where does the food go?" Reese teased.

"Shut up," Jason laughed. Reese snuck a bite. They both sat and talked until they finished eating, and they got up and walked to the bus stop. Jason checked his phone.

The bus hit a bump in the road, and Reese stumbled a little. Jason looked up from his phone and placed a steadying hand on Reese's arm. "Thanks," Reese whispered, "What's going on?"

"Oh, it's nothing serious right now," Jason whispered. Reese kissed the top of Jason's head. "It's just a dead end."

"Are you still looking for your mom?" Reese asked. Jason nodded.

"Yeah, but it's not looking good. Every time I think I've found my mom, it ends up being a dead end. I try not to look for her too much," Jason whispered.

"Why? Don't you wanna find her?" Reese asked.

"I don't know," Jason replied.

[whitehotharlots]

On one of the staggeringly large number of white lady academics who pretended to be not-white

In a sad attempt to keep up engagement, I've decided to post some things I wrote in personal correspondence over the last few years but never bothered to translate into full-fledge posts. Going through these emails, I was astounded at how much I've lost the ability to process the timeline of political events since COVID. Things that I would have sworn happened a couple of months ago actually happened 5 years ago; stuff that seems like ancient history was actually just from this past summer, etc. I think there's some value in recapitulating some of these events, give ourselves a chance to reflect on how much and how little things have evolved.

This piece was originally written in early 2021:

I'm not in STEM and I only pay as much attention to MeToo bullshit as I need to, so the MeTooSTEM movement and its drama passed me by. Basically, it was started or popularized by a lady neuroscientist named BethAnn McLaughlin. By early last year she began facing the type of predictable criticisms that inevitably wreck all leftist movements, regardless of legitimacy. Basically people agreed with her movement but were upset that she had too much of a leadership role, didn't center the correct voices, sometimes criticized people from more disadvantaged groups, etc. Here's a neat example, from the piece linked above:

Last month, McLaughlin tweeted angrily at Hontas Farmer, a transgender woman of color who teaches physics at the City Colleges of Chicago. In a thread about student–faculty relationships, Farmer noted that it would be “unenforceable to forbid relationships.” “Get off my time line with your pro-preying on students garbage,” McLaughlin responded. “Grown ups are talking. #STEMTrollAlert.”

While this lady seems like a vicious shithead, it's important to note that this type of behavior is common in woke discourses. It's the natural result of a morally certain culture is which all dissent is considered proof of evil. In this case, I happen to agree with the trans woman: while student-teacher relationships are gross, blanket bans are unenforceable and will most likely wind up harming the least empowered teachers. But this teacher's concerns were only allowed to stand because of her status as a trans woman--Laura Kipnis made the exact same argument several years ago, before the MeToo furor had really kicked off, and it nearly destroyed her career.

The point here is that no one is actually arguing for or against the merit or logic of certain positions; it's all jockeying over who is even allowed to have a position in the first place, and then demanding that everyone else defer to this person's position, which is automatically validated by their identity statuses.

Nothing in the Buzzfeed profile seems very damning or specific. I'm not a fan of MeToo, but we see here the same general hatred of strong leadership that seems to plague all left spaces. Arguments in regards to how funding should be spent and what actions should be prioritized--things that happen in literally any organization of more than a few people and can only be resolved by designating leadership--are presented in terms of bodies and spaces and centering voices and yada yada yada. Once again, it's not about the morality or efficacy of the actions taken by this organization. It's about whose identity imbues them with moral authority.

Buzzfeed seemed to have a particular hard on for this lady so they posted another piece in February of this year, documenting even more dysfunction in her movement. Again, she seems like a shithead and her movement's goals are usually not good, but the accusations against her were still vague, woke bullshit that amounted to people framing an organizational power struggle as a civil rights issue. And this is where things get interesting...

What does a white lady shithead do when she finds herself automatically unable to criticize people who fall above her on the hierarchy of oppression? Why, she pretends to be an indigenous lady shithead! She fabricated the existence of an ASU professor of Hopi descent who posted under the name of sciencing_bi. Sciencing_bi just so happened to agree with everything the white lady posted, and was fiercely protective of the white lady when she found herself getting attacked by non-white people.

But then, sadly, the made up Hopi professor succumbed to Lady Corona last week. Woke STEM twitter mourned her passing by angrily blaming ASU for their failure to protect employees of color. This caused ASU to release a statement saying that, uhh, no one has died and they have absolutely no idea what any of these lunatics are talking about.

Just--dear god. At what point does hubris give way and become delusion? How insulated must someone feel to believe that they can not only create but kill off a fictional persona whose primary utilitity is to brown-wash your own opinions?

These are the people who have become the morality police of the twenty twenties. These people are the ones who decide what you can or cannot say or believe. They are insane and and they are stupid, and they control our world.

[noremmacorner]

Greetings to all of you!

Standreamy here, I'm the co-founder of the Noremma Kingdom discord server and the sole admin and organisator left.

For many it was already common knowledge that I've been the one running the page events, but it was never addressed officially, so here I am!

I've been into this fandom since late 2018 and I've created the server alongside Janna and the awesome group of admins a little time later.

Since then, the server and our page have seen good and bad moments, we've grown in numbers and in content, grown as becoming more mature and objective in what could nurture the server in a good place for everyone.

However, since the manga ended and the anime fiasco... Many people moved onto different interests, me included (while I still keep this page active), and now the server is deadly silent and due to how busy I am I can only organize one event a year.

I may be dedicating mainly to another ship right now but Noremma is still in my heart and I wish to carry on the legacy of all the good times that were spent inside and outside the server.

For this reason, I do not intend to give up.

However, I do need to humbly put my hands up and admit that I... Can't really do this all by myself.

I've been helped by very generous souls in the last events, but I realize that to give this ship and its fandom the best possible events and to make the server more active, I need some help, as you all suggested in the last forms too.

Making the graphics, organizing the events, trying to keep the server active... It's a lot of work that I've been doing by myself for the past 3 years.

I will forever be grateful to my team of admins, for helping me planning fun times, for helping me avoid trolls attacks on the server, for helping me shoulder all the weights.

But they all wished to move on with their lives and that's to be respected.

For all these reasons, I created this form to let you guys apply for a mod's position.

It can be a help in event ideas, for the graphics, it can be plans to keep the server alive and to moderate the chats... Any help is greatly appreciated!

Thank you to everyone who participated in the activities, even by just talking on the server or promoting! Your support and your enjoyment made all this worthwhile and I look forward to keeping this ship alive!

Through the bad times this world is facing and through our fighting for justice, peace and love, I want this to be a little something that can cheer up people. Just like it cheered up and helped me when I needed it.

So, again, thank you a lot!🙏🏻

Let this be a good rebrand and a great new start!