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therealbeachfox · 7 months

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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hxnbi · 3 months

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⸻ ❀°。❝ SHORT STACK ❞

requested by @kuppuru: furin boys + togame with short reader

pairings. hajime umemiya, hayato suo, haruka sakura, ren kaji, kyotaro sugishita, jo togame x gn. reader (separate)

note: tysm for your request! sorry if it took so long to write, i was suffering with exams but im finally free now. this goes to all my fellow short ppl out there 🫡 i also just wanted an excuse to find these goofy photos of my boys lmao

𝄞 ─ HAJIME UMEMIYA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

What do you mean by that? You’re his significant other and that's all that matters! If anything, that only makes you even more adorable!

UMEMIYA's natural inclination to be clingy and protective intensifies tenfold when he's around you. As you often find yourself enveloped in his arms, whether it's at home, out for a walk, or even at a crowded event. He towers over you, using his height—and admittedly effective intimidation tactics, thanks to him being the leader of Furin—to shield you from the world’s troubles.

"Up we go!" he jokes, effortlessly picking you up from out of nowhere and spinning you around like a merry-go-round carousel.

“Ume?!” you yelp in surprise.

Without realizing it, his face lights up like a neon sign, and he lets out a loud, joyful laugh. You’re so sweet! How could he not adore you?

Umemiya goes into press his lips against your cheek and buries his face in your neck. "You’re my perfect little charm." His laughter and love are almost infectious.

Umemiya’s protectiveness doesn’t just stop at physical proximity, but extends to every aspect of your life. He’s always looking out for you, making sure no one dares to mess with you (not that anyone with a half-functioning nervous system would, anyway). Your height didn’t matter and will never matter to him, not when he sees you as his perfect partner and his other half, just the way you are.

𝄞 ─ HAYATO SUO ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Without a doubt in my mind, SUO's a person who's all for teasing you. In fact, he revels in it. Even after calling the relationship official, Suo’s playfulness doesn’t stop. Rather, it only increases with time. Suo is all for teasing you about your height, flaunting his own height difference with that characteristic closed-eye smirk of his.

“Oh dear, do you perhaps need help?” he teases, pointing at something on a high shelf with one hand while the other resting at his back. “Would you like me to get you a ladder?” he asks 'kindly,' making you deadpan.

Suo finds your petite stature irresistibly cute, and he never misses a chance to remind you of it. But, to the surprise of nobody, like everything else in his life, he’s not as shamelessly open about it in public as opposed to in private. Rather, I see Suo bringing your height up when you least expect it, in hopes of getting a reaction from you recorded in his mind.

Though his teasing is always good-natured, Suo knows your boundaries well. He can tell when you're uncomfortable, especially around others. That alone is enough to make Suo's usual mischievous brows furrow, and he stares down whoever dares to cross the line, especially when he's around. His protective instincts kick in without hesitation. That, despite his constant banter, it’s clear that he adores you deeply, his eyes filled with warmth and affection so unlike his public persona that he discloses to the world.

𝄞 ─ HARUKA SAKURA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Okay, and? What about it? Who the fuck cares? He’ll just deal with anyone if they even dare to give you shit about it. SAKURA's nonchalant attitude towards your height is evident. He couldn't care less what others think, and he's ready to put anyone in their place if they dare to give you any trouble about it.

"If anyone has a problem with your height, they’ll have to deal with me," he barked, a protective arm around your shoulders. "And trust me, they won't like it.”

Nirei and Suo could only deadpan in unison seeing this. ‘He’s just a big softie…’ they both thought.

Regardless, his feelings for you don’t change. Sakura has also been through a lot. The people who berated and made fun of him due to things he didn’t have control over—his unconventional appearance—why do they care? Why should someone ever care? He understands how it feels to be judged for superficial reasons and is fiercely protective of you because of it. As for you? You felt warm, knowing he always has your back.

Your height has nothing to do with who you are as a person, and he’s learning that, step by step. He’s always ready to defend you, ensuring you never have to go through the pain and ridicule he did, and not just because of your height, something you never had a peace or sovereignty over. Perhaps, he sees a bit of himself in you.

𝄞 ─ REN KAJI ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

Doesn't treat you any differently. And why should he? Is there some kind of top-secret reason that he's unaware of? Why should such a thing as height matter in his relationship? Dude grills his vice-captain Kusumi to get the full story, until he realizes that there is none. Tch, do you think he cares about bullcrap like that? Well suck it up, you shouldn't and never have to worry about such an outrageous thing.

KAJI continues to be his calm and composed self (when he isn’t blasting music until his ears bled), offering you the same level of respect and affection as always. Because, after all, "Why would your height change anything about how I feel?" he scoffed, putting back his headphones and closing the conversation right there, making you crack a smile at how matter-of-fact he was.

Kaji’s grounded nature makes you feel secure. Height, weight, appearance, all those superficial aspects of a person doesn’t matter to him. It never did, because you never judged him for how he was. All he's doing is returning the favour to the one he one he loves, nothing more.

…So why are you looking at him with those sparkling eyes like he just found a cure for cancer?

𝄞 ─ KYOTARO SUGISHITA ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

SUGISHITA is in the same boat as Kaji, and, in actuality, it’s even more pronounced, as, while Sugishita doesn’t say a word, he’s quietly observant. Your height is just another characteristic to him that he loves in you, nothing that affects his feelings or how he treats you.

He is but a silent trooper that stands at your side. Admittedly, it gets funny at times, seeing the difference in height between you and Sugishita, apparently especially when walking side by side. But he doesn’t mind. To him, your height is just another thing that makes you uniquely you. And all with a stoic grunt and a subtle smile that he tries to hide, but the hearts in his eyes don’t disappear with such that.

“They’re so cute, aren’t they? You just have to show it!!” Umemiya says. And show it, he does.

The way Sugishita pats your head and cheeks, similar to how Umemiya would to the same to him, is his way of expressing affection—all in the most awkward way possible, as Sakura would scoff while the trio of Suo, Nirei, and him would from a distance.

“...The hell is he doing? Does he treat them like a puppy or something?"

“S-Sakura-san!! Y-You might want to—”

All Sugishita would see was red, and it wasn't just from Suo's hair. "YOU—"

But don’t let that fool you. The end was anything but pleasant, as yet another chair became a victim of Sugishita’s wrath, and was broken that exact day, much to the dismay of Umemiya.

𝄞 ─ JO TOGAME ♪♩ ₊⁺ 𐫱

TOGAME's initial reaction to your height is one of surprise, with the way he would stare and drill holes into your skull, genuinely amazed at how someone could be so short and yet so oblivious, like you didn’t have a care in the world. But his curious stare quickly transforms into admiration. At first, you really thought that he was judging you, from the way his eyes would stare down at you for seemingly uncomfortable amounts of time, but to Togame, it was nothing more than fascination. You were so petite (to him), to the point of being even adorable…

Togame ran his fingers through his locks of hair. Shit, if you ever knew.

His best friend Choji is a bit on the shorter side, sure, but you? You were like some kind of tiny sprite. Unbeknownst to you, he finds your petite stature almost endearing in a way. And unintentionally or not, takes it as an opportunity to be even more attentive and caring over you. Togame’s affection is shown through his actions, whether it's reaching for items you can’t, or holding your hand protectively in crowded places. Whether it’s out of a sense of curiosity or if he truly loves you, one thing is clear, he can't help but show his affection in every little gesture.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

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allthegothihopgirls · 3 months

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alfred, who writes in a journal every day unbeknownst to the bats.

alfred, who's journals aren't marked by a period of time, or his own age, instead by the names of those he looks after. when dick is first adopted, and he knows this change is permanent, he puchases a new journal, despite his existing one being only 2/3 full. this one has a simple 'richard' written with a gold accent on the cover, a change from the last 8, titled 'bruce'.

alfred, who somehow makes journaling more of a logbook, albeit still personal. he's writing about himself, sure. memories of old friends, his travels, stories he's heard, things he has experienced.

but he mainly writes of them, the things they do, how they act. their character quirks that they haven't even picked up on yet themselves. the things he wishes he could tell them as a parent, instead of butler. the things they should know about those who've come before them. the regrets he has, and changes he's making. how they've molded him into a new person.

alfred, who will take all this information to the grave. until then, they stay packed in their respective boxes, some dustier than others, in the back of his wardrobe in the manor.

the contents of those journals aren't specific to each kid. everyone's within those pages. in tim's there's a lot about jason, and damian's has a lot about bruce. nothing's overly invasive in them, and the furthest it strays from the truth is when sometimes alfred admits to believing a different set of events to whatever he's been told, and even then he's probably right.

jason, who receives his journals prematurely. there's only 2, there should have been more. it's painfully obvious the cutoff, how it wasn't supposed to end there, but still it did. he receives them post-resurrection, convinced he doesn't belong in the world. his memories of robin growing fogged and becoming twisted.

he reads them and he cries, maybe it's because he forgot how much good there was in those times, or maybe it's because that's the determining moment in his new life where he decides that he really deserves and wants to live, because his existence runs deeper than being the robin who died.

frankly it's quite jarring for jason, to read about himself from another's perspective. as much as i love the idea of him and alfred getting along the best out of all the kids, he definitely distances himself for a while to process everything. he slowly creeps back though.

no one else gets to read their share until alfred's gone, and when they do it goes unspoken, no one pries to know anything outside of their dedicated journals.

jason, after hesitance and much internal conflict, drops off his own on dick's nightstand one night. receiving them back, two weeks later, is a silent affair face-to-face.

tim, similarly, on no one's accord but his own, gives jason his, to keep. he says something about how he doesn't think they were ever about him, and they seemed much more like a sequel. he also apologises, and mentions how he almost felt like he was intruding on something. but he understands now, he doesn't clarify about what.

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 3 months

Note

aaron hotchner x jacks nanny/babysitter

she’s got a crazy ex that stalked and threatened her so she moved far away to live a simple, under the radar life and started working for hotch. he knows her situation and does his best to look out for her, maybe she’s like a live in nanny ? neither of them is bold enough to make a move first until her ex finds her and hotch and the team race to save her. ends with love confessions and all the sappy stuff

could be a one shot or a short lil series i’m sure whatever you write will be amazing !

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨-𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size babysitter!reader

— summary: your new life as a live-in nanny was wonderful, and with your dark past behind you, there was nothing that could ruin this. but as they say, what goes around comes around.

— warnings: heavily detailed violence BEWARE, surprisingly light angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, physical hurt/comfort, mutual pining, abusive ex's :[, guns, and a horribly written action/fight scene (forgive me).

— wc: 1965

⋆ a/n: okay this is a heavy fic so beware once more, but aside from that this takes a fully turn! i don't really have anything else to say besides enjoy!

masterlist | AO3

“Backpack? Check. Lunchbox? Check. Shoes are tied? Check.”

You placed your hands on your hips triumphantly, a proud smile on your face as you examined the little boy.

Being a live-in nanny came with being organizational and making sure that Jack was ready for school everyday without fail. It wasn’t like Aaron was super strict on you; he understands when you have your days where things are a bit out of place, but honestly it was a personal preference, and totally not because you have a big fat crush on the FBI agent.

You had been very skeptical about your babysitting position at first because of your ex who was absolutely bat shit crazy. It was a situation you had barely escaped from, and it had taken almost everything in you to get where you were now, so you were a little afraid of men in general. But Aaron was kind, and welcoming, and fatherly, someone that you felt safe with.

And then, you fell in love.

It had scared the shit out of you of course, but now it was a feeling that you welcomed with open arms, even if you couldn’t act on it.

Your phone began to ring as you searched for the car keys, the contact name read ‘Aaron <3’.

“Morning!” You greeted with a smile as you picked up. “Good morning. How are you guys?” The older man asked. “We're doing just fine, as always,” You successfully found the keys. “How are things?” You knew better than to ask how he was, because if you had the kind of job that he did, there was no way you could answer positively.

“We pretty much have everything we need, so we’ll probably be able to wrap this case up early.”

“Oh Aaron, that's great!” You cheer happily and make your way back to where Jack was waiting for you. “You ready to go, little man?” Jack looks up at you from his toys. “Is that daddy on the phone?”

“Yeah buddy, you wanna say hi?”

“Yes!” Jack’s answer was full of excitement, and you can’t help but smile. “As much as I enjoy talking to you, it looks like I’m handing you over.” You swear you could hear Aaron chuckle.

Yeah, this was a life that you could get used to.

Having the house to yourself was weird.

With Jack away at his aunt’s for the weekend, it was strangely quiet due to the emptiness of the child’s presence. You suppose you’re grateful for the break even though taking care of Jack really isn’t as tiring as one might think.

Despite Aaron rarely being home, he’s managed to raise the boy well when he could, and it’s honestly very admirable. It’s one of the many things that made you fall in love with him. You gaze down into the wine glass at the thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Ugh, why does love make you such a loser?

Your bashful train of thought was stopped by a suspicious thump coming from the back of the house. Your smile dropped and a feeling of anxiety and worry twisted in your gut as you grabbed your phone that was lying on the kitchen counter.

You’re quick to dial Aaron’s number and your fingernail finds itself in your mouth as you chew on it anxiously. It’s an old habit, one that you had picked up back in your old relationship.

“Hello?” Rasped Aaron.

You knew he had just recently flown in from wherever he was because you could hear the foot traffic of everyone grabbing their luggage from the plane’s storage.

“Hey,” Your greeting was nervous and it was something that Aaron easily picked up on. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asks with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, just um - I’m just hearing some weird things so I just wanted to know when you think you might be getting home.” I miss you.

“Honey what type of weird things?” Before you were able to answer, there was a loud crashing sound. You instantly dropped to the floor to hide behind the counter; you cradled the phone to your ear, “Okay uh - change of claim,” You attempted to joke. “Someone is most definitely in the house.”

Aaron tries not to panic at the way his insides turn cold, “You remember what to do, right?” He asks with a hardened voice. You gulp, stretching slightly to peer over the marble. You stare out into the darkness and a frightened shiver shoots up your spine.

“Get to your room and enter the safe.” You reiterated what he had told you almost a year ago when you had first moved in. You’ve never shot a gun before but tonight might be the night where you learn how too.

“That’s right, and do you remember the code?”

As you went to answer him, you were snatched up by your hair and a scream rang out and into the phone. Even though you weren’t on speaker the others that were currently standing outside with Aaron could hear it.

Aaron desperately calls out your name, and with your silence he takes off without any explanation, but his team knows to follow close behind.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing since you tried to leave me?!”

You cried out as another blow was delivered to your gut but a heavy boot. Your lungs burned and there were tears streaming down your face. He had pulled you so hard over the counter that it made your scalp burn, a blistering headache beginning to form at the base of your skull.

“Fuck you!” You spat as you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows.

There was a fine line between anger and fear, and this was one of those moments where they blend together. If you ended up dying tonight, at least you didn’t go down in vain.

This time he punched you in the face before snatching you up by your arms. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, a bruise already developing near your eye. “Why’d you leave me, huh?! We had a good thing going and you just… you just ruined it!”

“I didn’t ruin shit asshole!” You screamed and pushed at him but it was no use. “We were gonna get married but you… but you wanted to play house with an old man, really?!”

“You’ve been watching me.” You said in disbelief. It made your stomach twist in nausea and horror at the thought of him watching Jack, what he could’ve done to him. You had actively put the man you loved kid in danger and it devastated you.

“I had no choice!”

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Put your hands where I can see them.” Aaron’s voice rang out throughout the house.

Before you knew it you were spun around with a gun to your head, his arm locked against your neck, faintly strangling you.

“Aaron!” You called out in relief, but it turned into a grunt as you tugged further into your ex’s chest.

Aaron’s gun was raised steadily, his eyes focused on your attacker, but he doesn’t hesitate to cast you a reassuring look. When he sees your bloody and bruised face his jaw tightens, the vein in his neck popping and visible through his skin.

“Boyfriend to the rescue, huh?” Your ex sneers into your cheek. You shudder.

“Put the gun down.” Aaron continues to coax, and out the corner of your eye you can see Morgan approaching through the darkness.

“Why do you want to save this slut? Don’t tell me you’ve already -” A shot rings out into the fair followed by a scream of pain.

Your ex collapses to the ground, cradling the gunshot wound in his knee as blood spills through his fingers. Aaron was the one that pulled the trigger and Morgan is already in the kitchen by the time he’s tugging you away and into his arms.

“Oh God.” You finally cried. “You came, you came…” His arms are wound tightly around you, purposefully tucking your face into his chest. “I’m here, I’m here.” He shushes and rocks you side to side in order to try and lull you.

Aaron – softly – orders you to sit down while he cleans up the blood when the rest of the team has already left.

You can’t help but watch him from where you’re sitting on the couch with his sleeves of his white button up rolled up and his hands gloved. “I’m sorry.” You decide to say, because you really were. “I’m sorry for everything.” There was so much more you wanted to say, but you felt your throat tighten with unshed tears.

“No, don’t apologize.” He says softly, abandoning the rag that he was using to scrub up said blood. “No Aaron you don’t understand. I put you and Jack in danger because of my bullshit and I thought that I had put it all behind me and I don’t -”

“Stop.” It’s a bit firmer this time. “I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I offered you to live with me and my son. Nothing that has occurred tonight has swayed my trust or opinion about you, you know that, right?”

“Right.” His hand holds your cheek and strokes the soft skin of it. “Good.”

Your eyes flicker down to his lips before peering back into his eyes, “If I asked you to kiss me, would you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I promise this isn’t like a trauma bond thing. I’ve liked you for as long as I’ve worked for you and I didn’t want to tell you because I have nowhere else to go if you say no. Plus,” You sigh, “I just don’t want to make things difficult or uncomfortable for you.”

“You could never do that, feelings reciprocated or not.” He reassures.

“Well are they?”

He grins at your question, “I’d be an idiot not to feel the same way.” You laugh and he leans forward to join your lips together.

A warm feeling spreads in your gut and you knew that this is what love was supposed to feel like.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna @moonysreid

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seireitonin · 6 months

Note

Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??

(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)

Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)

What would it be like dating Toby?

Toby’s life is filled with tragedy

Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman

It’s all bad

So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go

He’ll do anything for you

I mean to the point it’s unhealthy

Because hes obsessed with you

Like really obsessed with you

He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded

That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out

He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings

They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it

Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection

If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering

His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness

Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills

He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too

So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful

And he might try to call you sensitive for it too

“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”

He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions

It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing

He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general

Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip

He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions

He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)

He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile

Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay

He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail

He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute

Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better

Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him

He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that

He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor

He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s

If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them

Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering

Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile

He does it all for you. Everything is for you.

“You know I love you, right?”

He looks at you covered in blood

Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters

He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him

He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession

He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it

He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field

Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack

You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one

Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself

He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did

He’s never letting you go

He didn’t know he could feel love this intense

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta toby

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m0nsterqzzz · 6 months

Text

Something Stupid

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary: and then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like...."I love you."

content: absolute teeth rotting fluff. pining for each other but wandas is much more intense? tiniest bit of blackhill if you squint.

a/n: had this idea for a while, and I actually kinda like it??? idk. first time for everything. reader is referred to as "sweets" like twice just because I love the nickname. it's what my boyfriend calls me. anyway. love yall!!

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Wanda Maximoff loves you.

She’s known that for years.

She’s known it since she first became an avenger and felt a strange urge to gain your forgiveness over everyone else's after what her and her late-brother Pietro did during the battle against Ultron.

She knew it when you became her best friend, teaching her how to control her magic and really just how to enjoy life.

She knew it when she had to watch as you got ready for dates with people that would never live up to your standards. Not she thought she would live up to your standards- no, she knew she couldn't- but she did know she treat you better then any of those no good pigs who are just looking for a fuck buddy ever good. The witch wouldn’t go up against your suitors though, just standing on the sidelines as her heart slowly breaks faster and faster the more you don’t see her in the same light you do them.

Little she did she know, she was the only one you truly wanted.

So finally, Wanda worked up the courage to ask you out so she no longer had to cry into her pillow while you were out sucking face with someone else.

Surprisingly, you agreed easily. The only thing you had to say was that she had to promise it wouldn’t change anything between you guys for the worse. If it didn’t work, you guys couldn’t become like Natasha and Maria. (those girls can’t be in the same room as each other for more than 2 seconds without making a backhanded comment about their four week long situationship)

The Maximoff girl agreed, eagerly setting up a dinner date.

It had quickly gone wrong.

The reservation was somehow not in the book despite the fact that Wanda called the fancy dinner place with insane prices about six times in the hour-long drive there. So you told her it was fine, that you’d be happy with some food from the delicious Thai place down the road as long as you were with her. But they were out of your favorite and Wanda ate so much that she felt ready to barf as you guys walked out of the restaurant- that was before she actually did barf in the parking lot.

Finally, you guys headed to a bar near the Avengers tower for a quick nightcap, but that quickly turned into you both downing two drinks each before stumbling onto the dance floor.

A sweet looking old man who’s been reading a comic book in the corner sees you two and decides to put his own change in the jukebox and press play on a slow, but peaceful song. He sends you guys a smile, winking Wanda's way before he continues to read about some cool looking superheroes.

Wanda’s hands fall to your waist, gently gripping them as you both sway. Your head falls to lay on her shoulder, arms wrapped around the back of her neck as the music fills your ears. Her breath is on the back of your neck, warm, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the feeling of her lips as she places a gentle kiss in that same spot.

Then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like, “I love you, sweets.”

You roll your eyes, thinking back to how many times people have told you that during first dates just to get in your pants. Though you will admit that when you hear Wanda say it, it brings a small, warm, fluttering feeling to your chest, and you manage to let out a small giggle before you say, “No you don't. You don’t love me Wanda. You like me. There’s a difference.”

She fights the urge to tell you that she knows there is a difference between love and like. She knows that because she’s felt both those ways towards you. Why can’t you just understand that so she doesn’t have to find a way to put it into words?

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

After a few days of her saying the same thing and you never believing her, the witch realizes she has to put it in words. Nothing else is capable of explaining how she feels about you. How she’s felt for so long.

So she recruits Natasha and Clint for help, and they spend the day working on some speeches. By 2pm, she has this;

“Are you from Tennessee? Cuz you’re the only ten-I-see.” - A line from Natasha which she used on Maria who was passing by at that moment just to prove to Wanda it works. (Natasha left and was found leaving the agents room an hour later. Apparently that’s back on)

“I love you.” - Clint Barton, the stupidest man on earth. There is a reason people call him bird brain. They were there because the three words are not enough to describe what she feels towards you. Did he even read what was on the brunch invitation? It clearly stated; “fixing Wanda's love life; no I love you’s, no magic town in which she controls so she can make Sweets fall in love with her against their will.”

“Hey, do you have wifi? Cuz I’m really feeling a connection.” - Natasha. She once again used it on Maria and was gone for another two hours. Can someone please address this?

“Start listing facts about the baby turtles you saved. Always gets the ladies.” - from Tony, who was walking by the living room and decided now was the best time to interrupt. He has never once gotten close enough to endangered animals to be able to ‘save’ them, but we can pretend if he wants too.

“Are you a beaver? Cuz dam.” - Natasha. (someone needs to restrain Maria from jumping the redheads bones. She is literally needed at this meeting.)

So, as we can see, no one is any help.

She decides after that to just go with her gut, and her gut is telling her that you’ll know when the time is right, and hopefully will send her a sign.

Maybe the sign is sooner rather than later.

The witch spends about an hour in her bedroom in front of her mirror, trying on every outfit from sweats and a t-shirt to the 10,000 dollar dress Tony bought her for her birthday. Which clothes would draw your attention to her? She thinks about that alot, which is why she wears different outfits everyday simply in hopes of you sending her a small compliment. She always spends countless amounts of time planning the perfect outfit just to hear you say, “You look pretty Wans.”

Why is this happening to her?

It’s when she sets up a cute little picnic under the stars with all your favorite foods and snacks and a makeshift tv screen with a projector to watch your favorite film do you realize that you are deeply and utterly in love with Wanda Maximoff.

She’s sweet, and pretty. She can always make you laugh when you truly think you no longer can.

And besides all that, she’s your best friend. The one that will stick with you through thick and thin simply because she wants to be beside you.

You can’t help but feel your cheeks beginning to heat up every single time she even glances in your direction, let alone actually speak to you. You can feel your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nerves as she just… exists.

You don’t tell her that though, afraid of getting your feelings hurt.

You just sit down on the nice thick blanket with her, grabbing some grapes to give a few to her and a few to herself as she presses play on the movie. It’s silent other than the sound of the movie, but she can hear your thoughts louder than any film. It’s not like she’s trying to read your mind. The witch vowed to herself to never use her magic on you unless it was necessary or life saving. That includes mind reading. Your thoughts are too loud though, and even with the amount of control she has over her powers, they still fill her head as she tries to focus on the movie.

“I love her.”

“She says she loves you.”

“She doesn’t mean it.”

“Yes she does.”

“No she doesn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter. I love her.”

Your internal battle on if she truly does love you or not breaks her heart into a million pieces, though she doesn’t want to call you out on it and make you feel uncomfortable. So you guys continue silently watching the movie. She doesn’t mention your loud thoughts, and you don’t mention that you can feel her eyes burning into the side of your face as she stares.

When the movie is over and the projector turns off, you guys sit in the darkness of the night. There are stars dressing the night sky, so you silently look at them as Wanda turns on her side so she can gently pull you closer to her.

The moment is perfect; looking up at the stars in each other's warm embrace, your back pressed against her front and she moves around until she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, so close to you that your perfume fills her senses and puts her into a peaceful bliss. Your truly happy as is she, and this time, as she says the tree words, you find yourself believing her;

“I love you.”

She doesn’t regret it or cringe out of embarrassment when she says it like she did last time. The witch just lets the words hang in the air. If you choose to say them back, you do. If not, at least you'll understand how much she truly means it.

“I love you.” You whisper back with new found confidence, and her chest fills with warmth and pure happiness. You finally believe her. Her words sounded so sincere and simple, not like the drunk words she said a few days ago. It’s the only reason you feel okay telling her the truth. You love Wanda Maximoff.

“I love you.” She mumbles, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“I love you.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

#Spotify #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #the scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch #marvel x reader #marvel #marvel mcu

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divinesangel · 2 months

Text

— 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal or soulmate reading! ko-fi.com/solreads

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

your person has been feeling quite overwhelmed lately. it's as if they're reluctant to engage in much because of how burdened they feel. it appears they're currently navigating something in their personal life that's causing them to overthink, something they recognize they need to address and possibly discuss with someone, though they worry about causing concern. right now, i see them trying to move forward and redirect their focus, but it's clearly taking a toll. they've always been the type to handle things independently, no matter the challenge, and they definitely project an aura of self-sufficiency. however, this seems to be affecting them emotionally, and it seems likely they'll eventually open up about it, leading to improvement, even if they don't realize it yet. they need reassurance that despite challenges, there's always hope for better days ahead.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

your person is currently going through a difficult situation with a female energy in their life. they seem to be going through a toxic situation that they have been trying to release themselves from. it seems that they have been handling things well. they are aware that the situation is not the best one. they are currently re-evaluating several things in their life regarding their personal connections and the type of people that they want to have in their life. deep down, it seems like they know what they want from others, and they are not willing to settle for less. this person that they have been dealing with seems to be someone that they've known for a while now, but it seems like they haven't grown each other, and unfortunately it has turned a bit toxic. they are not the type of person to let someone else affect their stability, which is why they are reconsidering many things. your person has also been thinking about expanding themselves in ways that may have involved taking some time to disconnect or maybe move to another country. it could also just be travel for a bit. overall, it also seems that they have been feeling a bit stagnant or feeling like they need to take a few steps back to look at things from a different perspective and regain more clarity on the path where they're heading right now. this is someone who likes to be in control of what goes on in their life, which is completely understandable. it seems like in order for them to do that, they need to work on it and distance themselves from people. this person has always been the type of person to be there for others and to care a lot for the people they have around them, but it has not been giving them much these days. it seems like your person has been given more than what they have been receiving, and it's something they're pretty aware of. they're going to be taking their time to reassess certain things and take care of themselves.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 ��

so when it comes to your person, i do feel like they are currently trying to manifest many things for themselves. they have been trying to make their dreams come true, and they have been working on every single project that they want to bring to fruition. they have been feeling quite stable right now, so this is probably one of the most stable periods that they might be going through, and they're trying to keep a balance with everything. they seem to be very focused on their career and their work, and they're trying to maintain a balance between their life and their career. i see them traveling for many different reasons, and it's going to bring a sense of feeling overwhelmed, but they're going to be handling it good. as of right now, they also seem to be wanting to enter some type of connection. it seems like they miss that type of feeling of having someone be there for you and care about you, and because of that they might feel a bit confused on where they stand right now in their love life, and they have been wondering whether that time will come to them or not. they are sort of leaving things up to the universe, and they have this mindset of whatever happens, happens. because deep down they know that changes will end up happening, and that it will happen at some point. i also see them healing from some hurtful situations from their past, and wanting to better themselves and basically become a better person. they feel like they don't want their future partner to deal with the consequences of past traumas or past connections, so they will be working very hard on that as well.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 and soulmate readings for €10 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

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harmonictechnicality · 2 years

Text

Robin drags Steve to a local art exhibit on a goddamn weeknight. This is not his scene at all.

Pretentious douchebags in scarves discussing if that splatter of paint represents socioeconomic downfall? Nah, this shit is not for him.

Robin ditches him halfway through the exhibit to talk to some sculptor that she’s got a thing for. Honestly, Steve would’ve done the same thing if it were him. But still, Steve is five minutes away from leaving her ass and taking a cab home.

He’s sitting on metal bench, centered a few feet away from the oversized canvas of scattered colors.

It looks like such a mess. Scribbled strokes of paint and lines that bump into curves. Everything intersecting. Someone would probably try to convince him that it represents the artist’s troubled past or fucked up childhood.

To Steve, it’s just a mess.

“What do you think?” A voice asks, joining Steve on the bench.

He looks to be about Steve’s age. Bold features, bolder hairstyle. All black clothes with chunky red combat boots. Elaborate tattoos creeping over the collar of his shirt.

Steve shrugs. “Truthfully? I don’t get it.”

“It’s art. What don’t you get about it?” The guy looks stunned.

Is Steve really about to argue with a complete stranger over lines and colors?

“There’s nothing but lost movements.”

Guess he is.

Steve observes the nameplate next to the canvas and goes off.

“Like this Eddie Munson guy held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’ Honestly, this whole place is a facade for people to masquerade around, pretending to be in tune to artistic expression, but they’re not.”

“They’re not?”

“No.” Steve answers immediately, a little defensive. “Nobody here gives a shit about what the artist is trying to convey, and this artist…”

Steve points at the artwork.

“This Munson guy knew that. Knew he could fool every rich asshole in this place.”

The guy looks at the painting and laughs. He’s got a nice smile, Steve thinks. Wide and genuine. Not too perfect. Not overly rehearsed. Like he doesn’t give out smiles to just anyone.

“Eddie Munson couldn’t fool you though, could he?” He finally says, looking directly at Steve.

The intense eye contact makes Steve a bit fidgety. Nervous. “I guess not, no.”

“I like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you refuse to see what everyone else sees.” The guy turns away, releasing Steve from the gaze. “Even if that would be easier.”

It almost sounded like he was trying to say he likes Steve. Not that Steve would complain if that were true. This guy is not his type, but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to expand his definition of type for someone that’s interested in him.

“What do you think about it?” Steve tilts his head towards the canvas.

The guy twists the ring on his thumb, processing an answer. He crosses his legs, then un-crosses them. Twists the ring counterclockwise now.

“I think the painter abandoned their originality to meet their growing audience’s expectations of them as an artist.” He finally says.

Steve scoffs. “How did you draw up a conclusion like that?”

The guy hums and abruptly changes the topic. “What did you say your name was?”

“Steve Harrington.”

“Right.” He gets up and gestures toward a ‘staff only’ door. “Up for a little field trip, Steve Harrington?”

This is dumb. Breaking laws is something Steve left behind in his angst-filled teen years.

But this guy is bad-boy hot and Steve is painfully bored, so he follows the stranger despite his better judgement.

They enter the door and are instantly greeted by a trail of empty paint buckets. There’s dirty tarps covering the floors and countless canvases laid out across the wide room.

Right away, Steve can tell this is what art is all about. The chaos. The urgency to create as soon inspiration strikes.

And these paintings look nothing like the one hanging in the gallery. These paintings are full narratives told through shapes and pigments.

These paintings could be an autobiography on the topic of someone who experiences life deeply. Passionately.

These are the untold masterpieces.

“Wow.” Is all Steve finally comes up with.

“To answer your question,” the stranger gestures grandly to the entirety of the room. “This is how I drew up that conclusion.”

“This was the originality. It’s stuck behind these four walls, but it’s where everything started. It’s where everything should have stayed.”

Steve carefully watches the man explore all the different works of art. Bending down to touch some. Smiling playfully at others. Steve is stupidly captivated by his ability to shine amongst literal art.

“What did you say your name was?”

The guy chuckles and walks back over to Steve. “I didn’t.”

“Right. Are you gonna tell me?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if you’ll still kiss me after I tell you.”

They’re standing close, Steve hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe it was him closing the distance. Maybe it was the stranger. Maybe it was gravity growing tired of their mediocre foreplay.

But they’re close now. So close that Steve can see the lightening bolt tattoo below the stranger’s left ear. A thought runs rampant in Steve’s slutty mind that he could see every single neck tattoo if he were to start unbuttoning this guy’s shirt.

He’s close enough to do it.

“I’ll still kiss you afterwards,” Steve agrees dreamily. Getting high off of paint fumes and close proximity.

The stranger lets his hand wander up the back of Steve’s neck, breaths getting caught in Steve’s throat at the contact.

“I’m that Eddie Munson guy.” He says in a low whisper. “The same one who held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’”

Every word he utters is cautious now. Like Steve might change his mind about kissing him.

Steve doesn’t change his mind.

He pulls hard at Eddie’s collar, lets their lips collide dizzily fast. Eddie’s mouth pushes against his to lead the kiss, Steve is more than happy to let him do so.

It’s a noisy kiss. Sounds escaping out of the corners of their mouths. Airy gasps and rustling clothes filling the open space.

Steve breaks the kiss to speak, inhaling as much oxygen as he can get. “I’m guessing you bring lots of guys back here and woo them with your secretly amazing art.”

Eddie had transitioned to kissing Steve’s neck while he was talking, but stops as soon as Steve says that.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.” Eddie cradles Steve’s flushed cheeks with both hands. “I only bring pretty boys who refuse to see what everyone else sees back here.”

Steve moves Eddie’s hands and wraps them around his own neck. “Even if that would be easier.”

Eddie smiles. “Exactly.”

He goes back to sucking on Steve’s neck, like he was rudely interrupted before, and Steve starts to feel as chaotic as the art surrounding them. Eddie marks him with a fresh bruise, just below his right ear. Mirroring the exact spot where Eddie’s lightening tattoo is located.

Eddie licks over it. Swirling his tongue in sweltering circles, making Steve pant wow as he finishes the creation he was designing solely with his mouth.

He exhales a single laugh into their kiss.

“Why are you laughing?” Steve asks.

Eddie shakes his head.

“I really like doing things that make you say wow like that, Steve Harrington.”

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I really like that too.”

Eddie kisses him thoroughly slow once more, then nibbles over Steve’s ear as he whispers:

“Kinda curious to find out what else I can make you say.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #art gallery meetcute #it gets a little smooch heavy at the end there #I’m physically incapable of writing Eddie not giving lovebites #it’s probably a disease i should get my head checked out

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unpunishablelamb · 6 months

Note

hiiii!!!!! ও Im not sure if you still post creepypasta headcannons but I really liked the headcannons you gave the creepypastas, it's really nice to realistic headcannons, if you want I was wondering if you could do headcannons for the friendship of the reader and ticci Toby 0_o

(If I made any typos or used bad grammar I'm really sorry (◞‸◟ㆀ) )

Realistic Ticci Toby headcanons (SFW+NSFW)

A/N: Okeyy so for the friendship headcanons just ignore the NSFW part! I just decided to combine your ask with multiple anon asks who requested relationship/NSFW headcanons🫶🏻

SFW

-First of all he isn’t the one to settle down. He has a bad past with people and it’s incredibly hard for him to trust so he prefers not spending a lot of time at your place, if he ever goes there at all

-He’s basically homeless and probably squatting in abandoned places outside of smaller towns so if you ever want to spend a little more time with him it’s there or in the woods

-In contrary to popular belief i don’t think he is shy. He is very wary and kind of feral so physical touch is a hard one with him

-He is touch starved to some degree but then again he’s become so callous due to everything that has happened, that he won’t initiate or reciprocate for a long time. He won’t push you away either though

-I think if you ever share a bed/mattress with him, you might be woken up with a hatchet to your throat or a hand wrapped around it. At least in the first few months of your relationship, simply because he’s not used to having anyone around so he panics when he gets startled and his fight instincts kick in.

-Despite everything, i do think he’s very thoughtful once he warms up to you. I can imagine him leaving you things like rocks or trinkets he finds which remind him of you

-He’s really possessive no doubt. Hardly anyone has treated him with the smallest amount of kindness, and now that you’re in his life he won’t settle for less ever again.

-I can definitely see him being the type that wouldn’t let you get out of the relationship/ friendship alive in case you ever want to leave him. Either you stay with him or he kills you. Of course it would be hard for him to do since he “loves” you but the thought of you being with someone else, leaving him to rot, is much harder

NSFW

-I don’t think he’s had experiences before you which doesn’t make him shy but even more greedy

-I think it would take him a long time to trust you enough with something like that. He isn’t reckless or sleeps around but he wants to know that you won’t backstab him (literally)

-He knows how sex works, he’s not stupid and he’s watched campers in the woods do it, thinking they were being sneaky. Of course he couldn’t help imagining it was him and you

-Now that you conditioned him to get used to a certain degree of affection and physical touch he expects more, of course he does and you love him after all right?

-Let’s hope you’re ready to sleep with him when he wants you because i do think he’d pressure you into it

-I don’t think it’d be him getting physically violent but he’d try to make you feel bad for him, try to blackmail you, manipulate you etc.

-If that doesn’t work maybe he would wait until you’re asleep, start sliding his hand under your shirt and do his thing

-I think he’s decent in bed, clumsy at first and he’s so pent up that his pleasure is all he can think about at first.

-If you do criticise him make sure to be gentle about it, he’s insecure and he will get mad easily thinking you don’t want him but he does like you please you after all and he enjoys having you show him what you like

-Hickeys. Everywhere. Good luck trying to hide them because it will look ridiculous but he can’t help it. He has to make sure others know you’re not available

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader

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theprongspotter · 21 days

Text

Stream - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 31 - 799 words

“Shit,” Regulus curses under his breath, fingers moving deftly over the controls as his character takes a hit. His eyes narrow in concentration, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he whips around and expertly snipes the enemy. The satisfying sound of the hit confirms his success, and a grin blossoms onto his face, a rare moment of genuine pride breaking through his usual calm demeanor.

He spares a glance at the chat on his second monitor, curious to see the reactions of his viewers. As he’s streaming on Twitch, he expects to see comments about the precision of his shot or praise for his tactical decision. Instead, the chat is flooded with compliments of a different nature entirely, catching him off guard.

reggieslefttoe: HIS VOICE

cassiecries: okay but why was that hot??

Regulus blinks, momentarily thrown by the unexpected turn of the conversation. He’s never shown his face on stream, preferring to keep his identity private, so the influx of comments about his voice feels a bit surreal. His heart skips a beat, and a faint blush creeps up his neck as he scans the chat, more messages piling in.

ghostlyghoul: i could listen to him talk all day tbh

whatissleep: Did anyone else get chills or just me??

Regulus clears his throat, trying to refocus on the game, but it’s no use. His mind is now stuck on the fact that his viewers aren’t just here for the gameplay—they’re here for him. The thought is both flattering and nerve-wracking, and he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks despite his best efforts to keep cool.

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” he mumbles into his mic, trying to play it off casually, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in his voice. He can’t help the small, sheepish smile that tugs at his lips as more comments flood in, each one making him feel a little more flustered than the last.

nightowl: omg he’s shy, that’s so cute

pixelpotion: Guys, we broke him lmao

Regulus lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he returns his attention to the game. “You lot are impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no mistaking the amusement in his tone. Despite the teasing, he finds himself oddly touched by the affection from his viewers, even if it’s not the kind he was expecting.

Then, a chime sounds, catching Regulus' attention as a new notification pops up on the screen. His eyes widen as he sees the amount—five hundred dollars. It’s not the first time he’s received a donation, but this one is more than generous. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but when he reads the username attached to it, a laugh bubbles out of him, warm and full of affection.

prongs: guys sorry to break it to you but he’s mine <333

The message hangs in the air for a moment before the chat erupts into chaos, messages flooding in faster than Regulus can keep up. The viewers are going absolutely wild, spamming the chat with everything from heart emojis to exclamations of shock and excitement. It’s a frenzy of curiosity and congratulations, the revelation sending the whole stream into a joyful uproar.

reggieslefttoe: WAIT WHO IS PRONGS???

cassiecries: HE’S TAKEN?!?!?!

nightowl: I KNEW IT OMG

Regulus just smiles, feeling a warmth spread through his chest that has nothing to do with the game. He can’t help but feel a bit smug, knowing that James—always the one to make grand gestures—chose such a public way to stake his claim. He leans a little closer to his mic, his voice soft but clear, the affection evident as he confirms what everyone’s already buzzing about.

“That is, in fact, my boyfriend,” he says, his tone filled with pride and fondness.

The chat goes wild again, the comments now a mixture of playful jealousy and supportive cheers. Regulus watches the messages scroll by, his smile only growing wider as he reads them. It’s not every day that his viewers get a glimpse into his personal life, and even though he usually prefers to keep that part of himself private, this moment feels right—like a small, shared secret between him, James, and his viewers.

But Regulus knows he has a game to play, and he’s already feeling the heat in his cheeks from all the attention. “Alright, back to the game,” he says, trying to steer the focus away from himself, though the smile on his face lingers, making it clear that the comments—and James’ surprise donation—have done more than just fluster him. They’ve brightened his entire day.

As he dives back into the gameplay, the chat continues to buzz with excitement, the energy infectious. But now, there’s a lightness in Regulus’ voice, a playful edge to his banter with his viewers that wasn’t there before.

#marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #dead gay wizards from the 70s #gay dead wizards #james potter #james fleamont potter #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus x james #james x regulus #james loves regulus #regulus loves james #jegulus microfic #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #streamer au

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were--ralph · 7 months

Note

Hey i saw you ranting about trans men on a post, and i was just wondering a few things. This is a genuine question, as a stelth trans man, i really cant find anything about a pre op transitioning body attractive. Especially a pre op Chest. Now i do take testosterone, and i think that the parts that i find gross (ex: tits mixed with chest hair) are a perfectly acceptable thing to deal with so i can look the way i want to look. I love my body hair and my muscle growth, i just dont love the obviously not cis parts of me. What do you find attractive about this? I truely cannot for the life of me understand why people find trans men attractive but i would really like to understand.

I think spicy food is disgusting generally. it's like. hot and not fun and to me it adds nothing good to the food experience. Genuinely I don't understand why people enjoy hot foods it makes like. literally no sense.

and yet, people do. it's weird. I've tried on multiple occasions to get into spicy food and it just. suks. every single time it sucks. But everyone else in my family lives by it. And I've asked why for years literally unable to understand it until I realized.

sometimes people just. like things. things I certainly don't like and cannot enjoy whatsoever. But at the same time, this is true for me and not for them. I fucking love coffee to the point I drink it more than water most days, but no one else in my family likes it. BUT other people outside my family enjoy it too.

Life is weird and what I'm getting at is something that took me a lifetime to understand and I still can't wrap my head around it all the time.

People just like things. People love things and hate things. What things mean to one person can mean the world to another and death to the third. There's not always a reason for it, but what you have to do is accept that there are things in life that you just might not like much right now. but as time goes on you'll find value in it the same way your partner will find value in you and all the minuscule things you do and become and like and dislike.

And to build on that point, there are things I hated as a kid that I'm fine with and even love now. Each day changes you more than you'll ever know and with those changes, the acceptance that comes with them may be easier or harder.

So, to answer your question, I don't know! I just love men. Men with tits or pecs, men with vaginas or dicks. maybe both at the same time or neither at all! I just think men are generally attractive no matter the design or what's different about them. and not just men but people who present as masc in general. If you're masc nb there's a chance I'm looking at you through the window of a bar as much as if you were cis-male or trans-male.

I do know for some men, the allure of masculinity displaced with the typically-feminine concept of a vagina intrigues them. Maybe it's the juxtaposition of them together, maybe they just want something unique and new to them. Maybe they just really like vaginas and it doesn't matter who it's attached to, or maybe they just like trans men. Same thing with boobs, some guys just like boobs. Some men have boobs. the overlap doesn't mean net-negative results, it could be double positive.

And I don't expect you to love everything about yourself, god knows I don't love everything about myself, and despite people telling me what's good about me I can still find flaws within it whenever I choose. I think men with chest hair are hot as fuck, but also I've seen some smooth men that are just as if not hotter. I love me a fat man or a man with muscles, but i've seen twinks i'd demolish in one sitting as well. I've seen men with dicks and boobs and scars and and hair pretty much everything under the sun and sometimes I want them to sit on me and forget I'm there and smother me.

What you do have to do though is accept that you have those things, and you are those things, and even though you may not like those things you have to accept that they're a part of you and find value in that. And it's not an easy task at all to love yourself, but you have to try because even if you don't right now, there's a partner who will be waiting for you somewhere. there's a future version of you who loves you as you are. there are friends who love your flaws, pets who don't judge, and there are a lot of things that accept you as you are.

So just say you have boobs and chest hair. even if you don't love it about yourself right now know that there are and will always be people who do, and personally I've said before, but I wish i had boobs and chest hair it's just a perfect look to me. I'm fine with whatever my gender is, i just think its a good look. If I had money for top and bottom surgery I'd get it and never look back. You just have to find the value in yourself we all know is there, and if you can't just know that we know it's there and let that carry you through the day!

#i think i lost the plot a bit #but you get it

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happy74827 · 10 months

Text

Bittersweet Blunders

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: In what was supposed to be the "perfect date" turns into an absolute dumpster fire of a night. Fortunately for Mike, you couldn't care at all about it.

WC: 4295

Category: Mega Fluff

So it seems that a lot of people like my Mike fics (yay), so I wrote another one because why not. At this point, my entire masterlist will just consist of this man, and I'm 100% here for it. Also, I don't know why fluff is the hardest for me to write, but this is my attempt at a full-on cuteness overload without a drop of angst (I apparently live for the drama), so we'll see how this goes.

『••✎••』

You were a very bubbly, cheerful person. You always thought that it was one of the best qualities that someone could have, and while it wasn't always the case, it always helped you in the past to brighten up anyone's day, as well as the other way around. You were always the life of the party, and you'd always make sure that everyone had a great time whenever you were with them.

It was probably one of the reasons Mike had liked you so much, though it had taken him quite some time to admit it to himself. He didn't want to believe it at first; after all, Mike was usually the guy who kept his feelings in, but as time went on, he couldn't keep denying the fact that he liked your presence and always wanted to be around you.

For him, you were a ray of sunshine in his otherwise very dull life. Sure, Abby had been a joy, and still is, but you... you were just special in a way that Mike couldn't explain. You had a certain quality about you that he couldn't describe, and he's never been able to figure out what it is that made you stand out so much to him. You were the complete opposite of him. His black clothes, your bright smile. His gloominess, your cheerfulness. His silence, your bubbly voice. His abrasive demeanor, your kind words.

Even though you were completely opposite of him in personality, there was one thing that you both shared in common. You were both attracted to each other in a way that you couldn't explain, even to yourself. But it was a feeling that you were sure of, and the fact that you're finally together made you realize why.

When he had started dating you, it had been like the clouds parted for him. The sky cleared up, and everything felt right again. He felt like his life was finally stitching itself back together, and suddenly, he and Abby were a lot closer, too. It was almost like a weight was lifted off of his chest, and he was finally able to breathe again.

Your relationship was very new to him, as you were the first relationship he'd ever had. But now that you were with him, he wouldn't have it any other way. You were just... you. You made him happy in a way that no one else had, and he was determined to make sure that you felt the same way.

Of course, you felt the same way.

For you, Mike was your best friend. He had been the one person who'd been able to make you smile in your worst moments. He was always there when you needed him, and you'd always made sure to do the same thing for him. He was your ray of sunshine despite him not acting much like one. You loved the little things that made him tick, like his strange fascination with coffee and the fact that he always had a blanket in the car with him, just in case he was tired or cold. It made him feel like home to you.

And it was exactly how Mike felt with you, too, obviously for different reasons, of course, but all the same. He loved every single thing about you, no matter what. Your personality, your voice, even the way you walk, he loved every single bit of it. The first time you two had kissed, it was almost as though fireworks were going off all around you both, and Mike could've sworn he heard angels sing as well.

You were a ray of sunshine to him, and now that you were in his life, he couldn't see himself without you. He loved you more than he could say, and he was determined to show that to you, always.

That's why he decided he would take the day off of work to plan out the perfect date for you two. He didn't know exactly what you were into; you always seemed to be good with anything, but he knew he had to try and do something nice. After all, you were worth it. You were the most special person in his life, second to Abby, of course, but special just the same.

So he set off to find you a nice place to have dinner, a thing neither one of you had done since the start of the relationship. You had usually just eaten at his place or gone somewhere that served coffee (somewhere more in Mike's price range), but he wanted something a bit fancier; after all, today was special, and he saved up enough to make it happen. He wanted you to have a nice day out, just like you always did for him whenever he had a bad day.

He eventually found you a place, a fancy Italian restaurant that he thought you would like, and made reservations for a place with a nice view of the sunset, just so you could watch it with him. It was going to be a great night.

Of course, it had been the complete opposite of what Mike had thought it would be. Two hours before the planned evening, the person covering his job for him just had to cancel on him at the last minute, leaving him to panic. He hadn't told you the surprise for the evening at all, so he had to make several, several calls just to find a replacement for his job and then to find a babysitter for Abby. Max... Well, Max wasn't around much anymore, and since you were the usual babysitter for Abby, it took Mike a while to find someone who was available, and even when he did, it took nearly twenty minutes for them to show up.

But he got it fixed and done in good time. His car was a little bit messy, and his "nice" shirt might have been a little wrinkly for the occasion, but to see the smile on your face when you got to his car made it worth it.

"You're wearing a tie," you commented, your face full of surprise as you hopped inside

"What can I say? It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing," Mike replied, turning the ignition and starting the car. He looked back at you, the smile on your face making his heart flutter just as much as it had the first time he'd laid his eyes on you. "Did I, um... You look great."

You were wearing a very nice dress, something that Mike had always loved on you, and it fit you very well. It was a light pink color, with a flowy skirt and a short-sleeved top, but it complimented you so well that he wondered why he hadn't seen it on you before. It made you look stunning, in his opinion.

"Thanks," you replied. "You look pretty handsome yourself, Mikey."

Oh, how he loved that nickname. It was one of the few things that Mike loved hearing you call him, even if it was in a joking matter. It made him feel special when he heard it, like you were just so happy to be around him that it was just another way of saying so. He smiled as he pulled out of the driveway, the engine rumbling below his feet. "So, you hungry?"

"Oh, yeah," you said, "I could totally eat."

Mike smiled. "Good ‘cause I found us the most amazing Italian restaurant, and I think you'll love it,"

Mike was right, of course. You did love it. The atmosphere was perfect, and the scenery was divine, with the sun setting in the distance and the colors it created splashed across the sky. Mike had even thought ahead to get a table right next to the window to give you the perfect view. Unfortunately, the sight from the entrance was the only view you got to see.

When it got to the hostess, it turned out that they had accidentally given his reservation to a family with four kids, and you and Mike were now stuck in between a large family with several children and the bathroom. The food had already been ordered and delivered to your table, but you didn't even get a chance to start your meal before you heard the sounds of a crying baby. And when you looked up, you were faced with a crying child who seemed to be a year or so younger than Abby, sitting on the table in front of you.

You tried to ignore it at first, hoping that they would fall asleep and stop crying, but the baby didn't seem to be willing to stop any time soon, and it seemed you weren't the only one who was annoyed by it. You glanced over at Mike and you realized that he looked about one second away from punching the baby and throwing it across the restaurant.

You decided to take action before he could do that.

"How's... uh, work going?" You asked, trying to make conversation as you sat up a little bit straighter and began to wipe your fingers clean, preparing yourself for whatever came next.

Mike didn't answer, instead choosing to grunt.

You decided to try and lighten the mood just a little bit. "It can't be that bad. You're still alive."

Just as the words left your mouth, the baby started crying even louder. You looked over at the family that was sitting in front of you and noticed that none of them looked like they were planning to do anything about it. Great parenting

"That baby might not be," he grumbled, not even bothering to keep his voice down anymore. "Even Abby and her tantrums don't make me want to run into traffic, and they're on a whole other level,"

"A crying child is not going to make you run into traffic, Mike," you replied.

"It might," he argued. "I might."

You laughed, shaking your head at the man sitting in front of you. "Have you always been this dramatic?"

Mike was quiet for a moment before shrugging and letting out a sigh. His annoyance allowed you to take a look at his features for a moment, something you hadn't really done for a while. Usually, when you two hung out, he was always so busy that you didn't really get to notice the difference in expression and stance he would usually have, but now that you were finally able to look at him, you noticed a slight change in him. He looked... tired, you'd say. Tired, but at the same time, happier than he usually was. You couldn't exactly tell how he was feeling at the time, probably complete annoyance because of the crying baby, but he did look like he was smiling just a bit more than usual.

And you loved seeing it. You loved seeing him happy, even if it wasn't the happiest situation that you two could've been in. You still wanted to see his smile, and you couldn't help but smile yourself at how happy he looked when he was around you, even with all the surrounding annoyance.

"Do you remember," you began, "when we first started dating? You were so nervous, and you were scared that you were gonna mess it up, and I said to you that there was no way you could ever do that, right?"

"I mean, it's not like you were lying," he shrugged, leaning back against his chair, picking up a glass of water, and taking a small sip. "I was a mess."

"Well, you still are a mess, a hot one but still... you got over it, didn't you?" You smiled.

Mike paused for a moment, placing his glass down on the table again. He was silent before he glanced up at you. His eyes were wide, and he almost looked... stunned. He was definitely surprised.

"It's not rhetorical, Mikey, but I'm going to take that as a yes," you continued.

"That was... that was different," he said.

"Well, yeah, of course it was," you replied. "That was a few months ago. Now it's a crying baby who you believe is ruining your life,"

He rolled his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed by the whole thing. You knew that he wasn't actually upset; however, if he were, you'd have felt him shift in his seat like he always did when he felt uncomfortable or uncomfortable. But he hadn't moved a single bit. He wasn't even fidgeting. He just sat there and kept staring at you.

Mike never said anything, though, and neither did you. You just kept staring at each other, even when the baby eventually stopped crying. For a moment, there was peace, a sort of silent bliss that you couldn't exactly explain, and then the peace was suddenly ruined again.

Mike had wanted a refill of his drink, and when the waiter returned with a pitcher and many other drinks from various tables, the serving plate somehow made its way down Mike's shirt and all over his clothes, the various liquids from water to alcohol all splattered on his clothes. And Mike? Mike didn't even flinch. He closed his eyes and sighed, gritting his teeth and tensing up a bit, and you saw that he was clenching the sides of his chair with his hands, but otherwise, he didn't make any other movements, no reaction at all. Then, to make matters worse, the baby started crying again.

Mike and you both stared at each other again, your eyes wide and your mouths slightly parted. You knew exactly how Mike was feeling, and you wanted nothing more than to do something about it, but you didn't know what to do.

"Mike, do you—" you began, feeling really bad for him.

"I need to... go to the bathroom," he interrupted you, and you nodded in response. He stood up from his seat, walked around you and the other family, and then headed towards the bathroom. You were left to sit in your seat, staring at the family in front of you as they ate and chatted amongst themselves. You didn't say anything, but you weren't exactly happy with what was happening, either.

You glanced over to the bathroom door, hoping that Mike would come out of there soon so you could ask him if he was okay, but you were unable to leave. The waiter came back a few minutes later with a towel to help Mike clean off the liquid from his clothes, and once he had it in hand, you found the strength to leave your seat and follow Mike into the bathroom.

You didn't step inside, however, instead choosing to lean against the wall by the entrance. The bathroom was a lot emptier than the restaurant was, and it seemed a lot quieter, too, the only sound that you could hear coming from the faucet by the sinks. You stared at the door for a moment, just a moment, before calling out to the man inside.

"Mike, are you okay in there?"

It took Mike a moment to respond to you. "Uh... Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," you replied.

"Well, I am," he replied. He sounded annoyed.

"You don't sound like it," you commented.

"Well, what do you want me to say?"

You paused for a moment, glancing around the room as you thought of a response. You decided to just tell him what was on your mind. "Do you want to leave? We can go."

You heard the bathroom door open, and Mike stepped out from it, standing in front of you, his eyes staring straight at your own. He was soaked despite all the paper towels he must've used to dry himself off. You handed him the small towel you'd been handed, and he took it from you with a small nod. He ran it through his shirt and thighs for a moment before looking at you.

"You sure?" He asked with a pinch of hesitation in his voice. He looked nervous. No, he didn't look nervous. He looked... guilty. His eyes were sad, and he seemed worried about something. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right words.

You had a feeling what was going on in his mind, so you just took the lead for him. With a smile, you both returned to your seat momentarily to pay the bill and tip the waiter before making your way out to the parking lot. You climbed into the car, and Mike started the engine. He still had a very noticeable frown on his face as he turned to you.

"It looks like it's going to be a great night," he sighed, letting out a heavy sigh. His eyes shifted upwards to the clouds, and you noticed the very visible storm that was brewing in them. "Sorry. I guess I just... It didn't go the way I thought it would."

"It's still early," you replied, placing your hand over his. He looked back at you with wide eyes, clearly not expecting you to be as calm as you were. You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "And I have the perfect idea of what we could do."

He raised a brow at you, his eyes suddenly looking curious. The frown was gone now and replaced with a small, barely visible smile. You had to resist the urge to hug him right then and there.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"You'll find out when we get there," you whispered and smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just listen to my directions. I'll be your personal navigator."

Your navigator skills were definitely off the charts that night, and even you were surprised you didn't get lost. You made some accidental wrong turns and had to double back once or twice, but other than that, you were able to get you and Mike to your destination just fine. The night sky was still covered with clouds, and there was a very faint sound of thunder in the distance, but you figured you had at least a good hour or so.

The view, though. You couldn't have picked a better spot to have. There was a tree right next to a small, grassy hill that you sat at, the only place where Mike and you could be comfortable while you stared up at the sky. You had Mike's emergency blanket, and he had his hoodie (that might have smelt like utter hell, but he refused to wear anything else after the incident earlier that night), and the stars. It was like the clouds had separated just to show you the beauty of the night sky, and the two of you were lucky enough to witness it. The sun was long gone, and the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds, its bright glow casting a shimmering reflection onto the grass below. It was a moment that you'd never forget.

"How's the date going so far now?" You asked Mike with a smile as you sat next to him. "Think this is an improvement?"

Mike shrugged. "Maybe I should stop planning the dates, and let you plan them from now on."

You smiled at him. "I like it when you plan the dates, Mike."

He frowned for a moment, but the look on his face suggested otherwise. "Really? Because there had been not one good one in the past... I dunno, two years? Even when we were still trying to work out the friendship to the relationship thing."

You shrugged, moving closer to him. "What can I say? I like the surprises, and you never were that spontaneous on your own."

"Is that what you like about me?" He asked. "My non-spontaneity?"

You glanced up at him, smiling as you took in his features again. You loved looking at him. He was handsome. And you loved the look in his eyes. They were filled with adoration, and they were looking straight into yours. He leaned down a bit and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"You have other qualities, too," you replied. “Good ones.”

"Like what?" He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin as he spoke.

"You make a great cup of coffee," you began, letting out a small giggle as he continued to kiss your forehead, moving slowly down towards your jaw. "And you're good at taking care of Abby. You can be funny if you try hard enough, and you're really cute when you smile."

Mike moved down towards your ear, gently nibbling on the lobe. His breath fanned over your skin, and you couldn't help but lean into him just a little. His hand slipped under your chin and gently pulled your head up, forcing your lips to meet with his in a soft kiss.

The first kiss was always special, in Mike's opinion. You were always so soft, so gentle, but also so firm, so loving. It was one of his favorite feelings, and he was so lucky to have you in his life, he couldn't believe it.

When you pulled away from the kiss, you didn't move too far away from him, resting your head against his shoulder instead. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and he leaned his head against yours, his hand resting gently on your knee as you both gazed at the moonlit sky.

"Mikey?" You asked after a moment, your voice soft and gentle as you spoke. You felt his head move in response, and you felt him take in a deep breath.

"Yeah?" He asked.

You looked up at him, smiling as you did. "I think this is our best one yet."

He didn't say anything for a moment. He stared down at you with his usual blank expression, but after a few seconds, the corners of his lips quirked up, and he was finally able to break out into a smile, one that was so much brighter than the one that he had earlier.

He kissed you again, and you couldn't help but melt into the kiss. Your hands went to his shoulders, and his hands wrapped themselves around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You never wanted to leave his side.

You loss track of time from there. You both were lost in the moment, in the stars, in the blanket, in each other, and before either of you knew it, you felt the slight raindrops pelt against your skin, and the wind was growing stronger. Your hair whipped in front of your face, and smacked Mike in the cheek, but he didn't seem to care much, too caught up in kissing you.

You eventually pulled away, looking at the man in front of you. "We should... we should get going. You brought the umbrella, right?”

“Yeah, it’s right here," Mike nodded, grabbing it from the other end of the blanket and placing it above the two of you as the raindrops grew heavier. The thunder was louder now, but you and Mike were far too engrossed with each other to really notice it.

At least, not until tragedy struck when he went to pull up the blanket. One big strum of thunder and a burst of wind from above caused Mike to lose his grip on the umbrella, which went flying through the air and out of his grasp. You both watched it as it soared in the air, almost like you were in a daze, and then you realized the horrible thing that had happened.

The umbrella was gone. You and Mike were in the rain, and there was nothing around you to provide you any sort of protection from the downpour. The blanket was soaked within seconds, as were the two of you.

Well, technically, Mike already was.

Mike's smile had disappeared from his face when the umbrella had flown away, and now his frown had returned, only this time, it was quite humorous. He was absolutely dumbstruck, and he was just staring at the umbrella as it flew away into the night. You tried to hold back your laughter, but it was difficult, especially with the look on Mike's face.

“Great. Just great," he grumbled, grabbing your arm while making his way back towards the car. "That's just the icing on the cake."

“It’s like we’re in a rom-com," you commented as you followed him, laughing even more. "You're the oblivious man, I'm the funny girl who helps you figure out your feelings. It’s the climax of the movie, we're both drenched, and then we kiss in the rain,"

Mike glared at you, but the look was not genuine. You could tell, and it only made you laugh even more. "Yeah, yeah, let's just get to the car."

The two of you ran towards the car, and Mike jumped inside the driver's seat. You quickly got into the passenger's side before the door shut closed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You took a moment to catch your breath, and then you turned to Mike, a smile playing on your lips.

“Just so you know, those are my favorite type of rom-coms.”

Mike rolled his eyes. "And just so you know, I hate rom-coms."

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, letting out a soft giggle. "Better buckle up then, Romeo. After we find a towel and get home, we're watching the best rom-com of all time."

He rolled his eyes again, but you could tell that the small smile on his lips was genuine this time. "Let's just go before the car floods,"

You smiled, leaning back in your seat. "Sounds good, honey.”

578 notes · View notes

fl4r3z · 8 months

Text

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡. 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

(𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫?)

𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 (乙骨憂太) 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Yandere! Yuta Okkotsu, AFAB! Reader, smut MDNI!, Cheating, Cunnilingus, P in V, Jealousy, Stalking, Dark Themes, Somnophilia, Non-con, Dead body, Cum

𝐀/𝐍: Hi my super awesome babies :3 I'm back after dying and i wanna feed you all with a Yuta fic :3 didn't specify any looks for 'boyfriend' so you can insert a character or so!

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▯▯▯▯▯▯ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭? 𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐞𝐬.

Your eyes were gleaming under the moonlight, looking like beautiful pieces of glass. It had been a month since you and Yuta Okkotsu had broken up with each other. It was late into the relationship when you realized how possessive and manipulative of a man he was.

You and Okkotsu met under the terms of working together. You both engaged a wonderful team, leading to both of you sharing feelings with one another. Yuta was an absolute sweetheart, he'd do anything for you and your sake. He made sure that everything you want, you get. And of course, he gave you an absolute wonderful sex life.

You were blinded by his sweetness and innocent gaze that you didn't realize what troubles were waiting for you. You thought he was everything you had wished for your entire life.

But lately then, you had realized just how possessive he was. And by the means of that, meaning he scolds you for talking to a cashier of an opposite gender. It irritates him, saying only he should be able to look and speak to you. He wants to control everything you do. And that's where everything goes wrong.

Every day with Yuta Okkotsu felt like hours with him ranting about all of the people staring at you, it makes him so irritated. Only he was allowed to admire you. You eventually realized everything and talked to him into breaking up. You could've swore you saw tears streaming down his 'innocent' eyes. He was begging you not to leave him.

But you knew nothing could have changed your mind anymore, you knew you still loved him. But his actions make it so hard to continue your love for him. You hated it.

So then here you were in your apartments balcony, with your so called new 'boyfriend'. Yeah,— you love him, yes. But mostly of the reason was to forget Yuta. You met him when you first moved into your apartment.

But still,— a part of your mind lingers around Yuta. You still couldn't get your mind out of him despite it being a month, and you have a boyfriend already. Maybe you still love him, you've sometimes wondered if he'd already found someone else to manipulate. You often found yourself laying onto your bed often thinking about what Yuta was into right now.

You weren't mindful enough though, the way how Yuta would watch you from your windows, watching every step you make. It makes him sane, you make him sane. He watched you cook, sleep, shower and go so far to even watch you pleasure your self. It makes his cock ache.

Of course, Yuta takes lovely pictures of your body. It was the least he could do. He pastes it on his board, only to see it after waking up. Oh, it makes his cock ache so hard for you. He misses the way your soft walls hugs his desperate cock, because he knows only he could do it.

Yuta had memorized your routine for everyday, like how you act during the day, the time you leave, and even the sound of your floors creaking when you step on them. If people were to be asked about your house, Yuta would be able to answer all of them in less than a second or so.

He thinks watching you is on top of his priorities, he wastes no time when it comes to you.

And that's why he's infront of you, in your room. His eyes were glimmering into the dark room only lit by the moonlight from your windows. Your body was highlighted by tints of the Moon Shine, it was mermerizing, the way your body was so magestic even when done so fucking effortlessly.

He was examining you, and how sweet you seemed like with your body asleep. Oh, how he missed seeing this. He wanted to make you his once again. He wants you around his finger like a puppet. He promises to never let you go once he lays his hands on you again.

He grabs his camera carefully, trying not to wake you. He snaps a picture, adds it into his gallery, — '(Name) (Name) (Name)'. 2,429 photos. Oh if you only knew how much he admires you. You'd never want to leave his side ever again..

"I missed you." He muttered. "And i know you miss me too."

He was slowly approaching your bed, sitting at the edge, engaging your beautiful face. His hands found their way into your thighs, then your lower abdomen. He wants to feel you so, so much, he doesn't wanna hold back anymore.

He looks at you ever so intense with his eyes gleaming lust. He looks at your face, then at your clothed pussy. He moves towards your neck, giving it feather light kisses. Your eyes were fluttering, Yuta hopes that you were feeling him.

He moves towards your lower abdomen, lifting your shirt up, enough to reveal your stomach. He trails his lips against your abdomen, moving towards between your thighs.

Grabbing the hem of your shorts, he pulls it aside, revealing your pussy to him. Turning his face closer, he licks your cunt. He'll never get tired of your taste. Pulling away, he starts pulling your shorts carefully not to wake you up.

He noticed that your eyes were fluttering, he stops, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. He slightly wants you to wake up with him between your legs just eating you out.

He starts gliding his tongue onto your cunt followed by feather light kisses. Hearing you gasp because of his actions makes him ache so hard. Trying his best to contain himself from cumming in his pants, he decides to unzip his pants.

Just the tip right? Atleast to pleasure himself. He unzips his pants, pulling his aching cock out and lines it against the entrance of your pussy. He strokes it a few times then pressing the tip inside.

He could hear you mewl and it makes him ache harder.

You started fluttering your eyes open and your gaze was set into Yuta. "Yuta?! What are you-" You were cut off with him slamming his hands on your mouth.— "Shh, (name) please be quiet.." Yuta mutters in your ears, " just, once please.. "

Yuta thrusted inside you fully, making you yelp muffled in his hands.— "please please let me feel you (name) " Yuta was pleading. But dear god, you were fantasizing about this, albeit having a boyfriend. You couldn't help but think about Yuta.

But of course you weren't going to tell that to Yuta straightly.

Yuta starts to move slowly, making you gasp for the sudden movements. All of his plans were all going accordingly. You'll finally be his again.— He starts gaining the pace, he was whimpering, not loud but enough to hear from the other room.

Yuta’s movements are almost desperate and your skin feels on fire when the pleasure races through you. you hear his own quiet moans, almost lost between smacks and skin slapping noises and your thighs tremble as your hips stutter. Every desperate thrust of his makes your cunt start squelching loudly.

Your back arches, lapping onto Okkotsu's chest. He takes the chance to mark your shoulders. Now they'll know you're his. He takes his hands away from your mouth so that he could hear your pretty voice.

"h-holy shit, Yuu.." your voice was trembling and you were stuttering.

“you sound so, so pretty..(Name)“ he hums before he’s deliberately thrusting on a much faster pace, like he’s trying to force more of those sweet sounds out of you, only for him. He keeps up the same pace and almost whining loudly. "you prefer me m-more than him now right? tell me yes pleaseplease.."

"yes, Yuu!" You could feel yourself about to orgasm sooner or later. It's just too good. Yuta could feel you clench on him so hard, he already knew you were close, so he started pounding faster.

"fuck.. m'close!"— He finishes inside, and you both finished together. He pulls out, and falls stomach flat into you.

"(name)— be mine again. Please!" His pleading was enough to convince you.

But what about your 'boyfriend'? You never knew. He never texted nor greeted you ever since that day. Maybe you felt guilty, but Yuta knows exactly what happened. He just wants to reassure you never find out, or you might stop loving him.

Oh how much Yuta loves you, give him everything he needs and he'll be on his knees, i promise.

645 notes · View notes

novashelby · 2 months

Text

Beg for It~TommyxReaderxJohn

Pairings: TommyxReader(3rd person)xJohn

MDNI.18+

Warnings: NON-CON, Degradation, humiliation, offensive language, spanking, and manipulation. PLEASE, PLEASE...take this warning seriously because I almost didn't post this. The vocal humiliation and degradation is ROUGH. Because it is, I just want to disclaim that, I, myself are against these actions in real life. However, this is purely fiction and for consenting ADULTS wishing to indulge.

Summary: When John Shelby goes to pick up the protection fee, he is met with the baker's sassy daughter. Not appreciating her attitude, Tommy and John teach her a little lesson.

Prompt: Beg for It

Word Count: 4,243

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

It was a new bakery that many people in the city seemed to enjoy. Italian. Which always made the Shelby family slightly curious. But everyone assured them: a sweet family that always minded their own business. Even Tommy couldn’t find anything wrong about them-Italian mother, Italian father, American born daughter. Though, perhaps that was curious. But, really, the worst thing they have done was introduce the Brummies to this soft, decadent pastry. It was a fluffy bun stuffed to the brim with a soft, sweet cream. They sold out within thirty minutes every morning and by early afternoons most days, the shop was bare minimums with perhaps some breads and biscuits.

The shop owners' daughter was left to clean after closing. That was her duty besides working the counter; clean the shop top to bottom. She'd just finished sweeping the floor when the door opened. Not realizing she had left it unlocked, she jumped to find a young man dressed well in a blue suit. Politely, he took off his flat cap and tucked it away under her arm, and bowed his head respectfully. Regrettably she winced, “I’m sorry, sir, but we are closed. But we have some leftover bread if you want to just take it.” She started to walk around the counter, leaving her broom leaning on the wall. He grinned, walking around the shop, looking around at everything. He took note of the small things and the big things. It was a nice place, he admitted to himself. Perhaps his aunt was right in praising it.

She was packing up some bread when he finally paused and turned to her, toothpick twirling about in his mouth. He grinned and walked to the counter, leaning on it. Teasingly, he pulled the bag closer to him by his index finger before lifting it to his face. Almost mockingly, he closed his eyes and took a deep inhale, holding it before letting out a long, exaggerated, “mmmmmmm.” His eyes fluttered open and he gave a toothy grin. “Do you bake?”

She smiled, taking the bag back and taping it shut for him. “No. My father and mother…I do everything else. Cleaning, the counter, the money, the organizing. Keeps me busy. Out of trouble, they say.”

That’s when he leaned in a bit closer wearing a grin that made her drop her smile. Despite being modest, his eyes still moved to her blouse as he said, “and are you trouble?”

“No.” She was a bit more curt with him, lips pursed. “But I heard you Brummie boys were a lot of trouble. What are you looking for? Something tells me you aren’t exactly looking for bread.” That’s when he chuckled to himself. Always the girls with the big mouths, he thought, looking back up to her before digging out a piece of paper. It had a money amount written on it.

“Actually, it is I that has something for your father. Is he around?”

She grabbed the paper from his fingers, tearing it at the edge before her eyes skimmed over it. She had to lie. “No, you just missed him. He’s gone away to visit some family for the weekend. What is this?”

“A little fee that businesses around here pay,” he explained, tone changing a bit. Sitting up, he straightened his jacket. “I’m John Shelby.”

She glared at him, jaw stiff a bit. “A fee? Pizzo. It’s fuckin’ pizzo!” She ripped it up in tiny little pieces. John watched her, amused. What a fighter, eh? In her hand was a pile of white flakes. She leaned down and blew. “Now, it’s fuckin’ snow! Merry fuckin’ Christmas, John Shelby, and you can go fuck yourself and your Pizzo….” John Shelby looked down at his jacket, flicking off the white specks, nodding his head.

“Do you normally have such a mouth?” he asked, arching a brow. “Hm? Did your daddy ever tell you that you shouldn’t talk to others like that, eh?”

“And did yours ever tell you that you shouldn’t extort innocent businesses?” she mocked. “It's extortion. That is the actual term, asshole.”

“Extortion, fee, pizzo,” he shrugged. “All the same fookin’ outcome if you don’t pay it-”

“Oh!?” She laughed, amused. She grabbed a rum bottle from under the counter. The same type her father both drank from and used for baking. “What will happen? Hmm?” She started to walk around the counter. “Burn it down?” she mocked. “Oh, no! The big scary man is going to burn down my bakery cause he didn’t get his way.” She was walking towards him, finger poking at his vest-covered chest. Slowly, he backed up, eying her.

“It’s a protection fee,” he said. “Protect you and your family and business from-”

“From what? You? Please, you can’t fool me. I’m fuckin’ Italian. I know what pizzo is. I pay it, I keep my business. I don’t…you burn it down. But you know what, burn it right now, Mr. Shelby. Go ahead, hm? Be that big, scary gangster you are and burn it.” John was not going to entertain this. Crazy girl. He rolled his eyes and nodded for her to have a good day, but when he turned his back, he heard the rum spill to the ground and splash to him. In her pocket was a book of matches and she lit one. “Hmm? I’ll do it.”

John cursed under his breath, rubbing his temple. Putting his hand up, he said, “okay, look…just put the fookin’ match down, alright. No pizzo…no pizzo!” Breathing got a bit heavier, he scratched the back of his head. “Fuckin’ ell, you crazy bitch! What is wrong with you?” That is when she smirked and started to lower the match, throwing it to the ground. He jumped back, hollering. “What the fuck!?” But she laughed as the match sizzled and went out. It was water in the rum bottle.

“What is wrong with me? Ha!” She dropped her smile and glared. “I’m fucking crazy and if you don’t leave my bakery, I will show you just how fucking crazy I can be, John Shelby.” He scoffed and put his hat on his head, leaving. The bakery shook as he was not shy about slamming the door.

That night when she explained to her father about the predicament she was sure she handled it, but he was less than impressed. The next day, a few shillings in hand and a bag of bread, she was forced to go to the Garrison. “Apologize sincerely,” her father had warned. But she simply rolled her eyes. There was no way an apology was going to slip from her stubborn lips.

She walked in, the pub empty except a familiar man at the counter, sipping a whiskey, writing some numbers in a book. She cleared her throat, and he paused, turning around. Snorting, he looked at her and continued writing. “Come here to burn the pub?” he asked in a mumble.

“No.” She walked forward and slammed the bread on the counter before reaching in her little coin satchel. “Here. Though I don’t see it, my father is scared of you. Pathetic, really.” She put the fee on the counter and pushed it to him. He was about to say something when another man walked through double wooden doors, pausing.

“You’re that baker’s girl, eh?” he asked, lighting a smoke and walking forward. “Called me this morning. Said you’d be here by nine.” Mockingly, he pulled out his gold watch and said, “ah, but it’s ten.” She scoffed, eyes about to roll, but he tapped on the counter. “Oi! Don’t look at me like that, girl.” He said ‘girl’ as if she was below him, condescendingly. His finger pointed at her. “You have a fuckin’ mouth on you, y’know? Talkin’ to me brother like that, eh.”

She grinned and looked down at John. “Told your brother? Aw, you must be the baby. Telling his older brother…oh, the mean little baker girl scared-” She jumped and yelped when Tommy hit the wooden counter again. That time was harder and louder. Her eyes slowly looked up at him as he made his way to her.

“How old are you?” he asked, perching the cigarette between his lips. The smoke blew in her face, causing her to choke a bit.

Admittedly, she was a little scared when she noticed the gun in the holster. But she kept her attitude. “Seeing the wrinkles under your eyes, I’m a lot younger than you.” John paused, taking a deep breath, mouthing fuckin’ ‘ell. Little did she know her stubborn mouth was going to get her in trouble.

Tommy took the smoke from his lips and stared at her in disbelief. He reached out and grabbed her cheeks, fingers pressing harshly into her skin. John watched, feeling his stomach drop when she pushed away and slapped him. Tommy laughed, head still turned and rubbing his cheek. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Looking back at her, he asked, “Daddy never taught you any manners, eh? Just walk around thinking you can act like a little cunt, hm?”

She spat at his feet and said, “definitely taught me not to let men put their fuckin’ hands on me. You got your money, I’m going to leave.” When she attempted to push past him, unapologetically bumping into his arm, he turned and gripped a handful of her hair. “Shit!” She hissed, struggling to regain herself, pushing at him. “Let go-!” With his free hand, he wrapped it around her throat just enough to make her panic.

“You’re a fuckin’ brat,” he said, amused walking her to the back office. She kept telling him in a mix of grunts and pleads to let go of her, but he easily shut her up. He gripped her neck in a way that his thumb, pinky, and ring finger were pressing against her flesh, but his middle and index were shoved in her mouth. “There you go, shut up, hm?” He laughed as her tongue tried to pry his fingers out of her mouth. It was even more cute when she tried to speak and her words were just a string of gurgles. “Hmm? What is it, baby?” He moved his fingers around in her mouth and cooed. “I know, sweety. It doesn’t feel so nice being humiliated, does it? It’s okay, though. Mr. Shelby is going to be so kind, hmm? Okay? He’s going to teach you a little lesson so this doesn’t happen again.” He kicked the door to his office shut and moved her to the wooden desk. She fought against him, trying to push her body against his to throw him off.

John could hear the commotion from the bar and slid off his stool, walking in and pausing at the door frame. Brow arched, he asked, “is this really necessary?” Tommy, tired, threw her on the ground and put his foot on the back on her left leg, telling her to stay. John shook his head. “She paid the money, let ‘er go, Tommy.”

Tommy, out of breath, gave his brother a look that was familiar. The one look that John couldn’t fight with. “What?” he asked, arching his brow. “John, lock fucking door and come…stop fuckin’ moving…and come here, eh?” John let out a long sigh and shut the double doors, locking them. When he walked over, Tommy took a seat back and grabbed his bottle of rum. “Get her over the desk-”

“Tommy,” John said, slumping his shoulders a bit. “What the fuck are you going to? Spank her?” When Tommy didn’t answer, John froze before cursing. “You aren’t-”

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not, John, you are.”

She sat up and backed herself up against the desk, swallowing as she looked up at John. When their eyes connected, she said, “I’m sorry…please don’t. I just want to go home.” But John had to listen to his older brother. Kneeling, he gave her a sympathetic frown before hoisting her up. She struggled a bit, but gave up seeing that the doors were locked by a key.

“Face her towards me, John,” he said, reaching for another smoke. John rested her body over the wooden desk, and when she looked at Tommy, he smiled at her. She flinched when he reached out and gently caressed her cheek, thumb teasing at her lips. “What a fuckin’ mouth on you, eh? Such a messy girl, hm? Open.” She sucked her lips in, in protest, shaking her head, but he simply pinched her nose. Struggling she kept her lips sealed until she had to suck in air. “Good girl,” he praised. “See?” Tommy shoved his two fingers in her mouth again, pushing them to the back of her throat. Gagging and drooling, she made a pool of mess on the desk. “See, John? She’s a good girl. Just only shuts her mouth at the wrong times.” John looked down at her in pity, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t turning him on just a bit. “You never had anything in this pretty mouth before, huh? I can tell. That’s a good girl. Practice on my fingers.” That’s when she fought back, pushing away and spitting them out. Catching John off guard, she slipped from the desk, accidentally falling into the seat.

“You’re disgusting,” she said, wiping her mouth.

Tommy slid back in his chair and got up, walking to his brother and gripping his face. The two had a short stair down before Tommy said, “can’t keep a fuckin’ girl half your fuckin’ size in place?” John looked off to the side, but Tommy forced him to look at him, slapping his cheek. “Oi! Listen to me, eh? You fuckin’ keep her in place or I’ll do it! Understand me, John?” John nodded and mumbled alright, Tommy. “Good.” He turned to her and kneeled to her height, lifting up her chin. “You better hope he does what I tell him because you’ll not like what I do to you.” Those words sent a chill up her spine that caused her to be slightly more compliant. She allowed him to easily place her over the desk. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see those beautiful eyes…ah, good girl. Now open your mouth.” John pressed his lower half against her legs so she couldn’t move. She opened her mouth and took in his fingers. “Go on, practice. How would you suck my cock?” The way he said ‘my’ and not ‘a’ made her stomach curl. Was he going to make her do it? She obediently bobbed her head back and forth, not breaking eye contact. “You can do better…try harder.” His eyes fluttered up to John, amused. “Fuckin’ just gonna stand there?” She bobbed harder, sucking on them and swirling her tongue around his fingers. Drool was pooling from her lips.

John rolled his eyes. “What would you like me to do, Tommy?”

“What are you, a fuckin’ virgin? Got to show you what to do? Take off your fuckin’ belt for one,” he said looking back at her, smiling. “Cause someone still needs her little arse spanked, huh? Cause someone’s father didn’t fucking do it. Huh? It’s okay…don’t be scared. Some girls like having their body abused like that. I think you may be one of them.” John’s hands slid up her quivering legs. She whimpered on his fingers, feeling John tickle her skin. His fingers hooked around the waist band and pulled south until he slipped them from her legs. John looked over the pink silk, thumb rubbing against the oval wet spot, a small grin on his face before he showed Tommy. Tommy pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a string of spit following. Her lips were a beautiful bruised red that made his cock twitch in his trousers. When he noticed her eyes drift down, he gently tickled her chin. “Don’t worry, sweety. You’ll get that soon enough when I’m sure you won’t bite.” He grabbed the panties and looked at the wet spot before showing her. “Look at this,” he said, smiling as if he was proud of her. “What is this? You either tinkled yourself or your little cunt is getting excited.” He brought it up his face and to her disgust, he licked it before grinning. “Such a dirty slut.”

Meanwhile, John was rolling her skirt over her ass, resting it on her back. It gave him a full, beautiful view of her ass and pussy. John grinned and looked up at Tommy, “I think someone enjoys being degraded.” His hands worked at his belt, sliding it off through the loops. It was pure leather. When his hand rested on her ass, massaging the soft, untouched skin, her body jolted. His hands were cold. John sighed. “I didn’t even start yet, babygirl.”

“I think twenty would do her good,” Tommy said, balling up her panties. “C’mon, sweetheart, open your mouth up again…let me put these in.”

“It’s going to hurt,” she whimpered, but didn’t protest, opening her mouth for him to gag her with her own panties.

“That’s the point, babygirl,” John said, looking up at Tommy with a grin. He was starting to enjoy it a bit himself, remembering how much the girl pissed him off the day before. “Twenty?” Tommy nodded and looked back at her.

“Yes, twenty,” he said. “Are you scared?”

She nodded, unable to speak properly.

“Think of just how much more scared you would be if you didn’t pay that fuckin’ fee,” he said, touching her cheek, sliding it up to her hair. “Without me protecting you. Hm? Aren’t you happy you are here with Mr. Shelby and not getting your little cunt raped by some savage fucking Italian.” Her eyes started to well a bit and he pouted, mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart, I forgot…you’re Italian. Sorry, you kind of just look like a dirty little girl to me right now. You want me to stop? Yeah? You do?” She nodded, crying into the rag. He chuckled. “Then beg for it. Beg for me to stop.” She tried to yell the words through her underwear, but it didn’t come out. “Aww, you can’t, can you. John, go on. Twenty spanks…soft at first. We’ll at least be nice in that regard.”

John nodded. “Alright.” He gave her round ass once last rub and a love tap before spitting on her. His eyes studied the hand crafted leather belt, feeling it in his hands before raising it and bringing it down against her skin. It was a soft tap, and she jolted for the surprise more than anything. It was a little sting, nothing more. “One.” He waited a second before bringing it down again. “Oi!” He shouted. “Two! C’mon…count.” Through the fabric, she tried to count, but he was always one ahead of her. Sometimes he’d land one at a time then others, two. With each spank, he went harder as if he was getting angrier, hating her. But John just loved the sound of leather hitting her bare skin. Especially the way it looked. “Your arse is so fuckin’ red,” he moaned out, one handly unbuttoning his trousers, allowing his cock out. “Tommy,” he said, looking over to his brother. “After…after I’m done-”

“You still have ten more spanks,” he said, hand still cradling her cheek, wiping away her tears with a swipe of his thumb. “Doesn’t he, sweetheart? It’s okay. You’re taking them so well. Daddy is very proud of you.” The way he said daddy nearly made her toes curl. She moaned in the rag, eyes getting heavy. “I’m going to take such good care of you,” he whispered.

John sighed as his hand gently tugged eagerly at his cock. Her cunt was there and all he wanted was to rub it against her. But he raised the belt and from frustration, slammed it down hard. In pain, she screamed into the rag, fingers white knuckled gripping at the wood. There was a knock at his office, and through the wood, someone said, “Jesus, Tommy, what the fuck are you doin’ in there?”

Tommy sighed, but John answered for him, “fuck off, Arthur!”

Tommy laughed and pinched her cheek. “Screaming a little too loud, princess. Did Johnny boy hit you too hard, hm?” She nodded and he frowned. “Alright, but it’s your job to keep quiet, eh?” She nodded, feeling completely submitted to him. If she wasn’t gagged, she would have said, with ease, yes, sir. “Good girl.”

“What is going on in there, eh?” The door jiggled and John glared at him. “Why is the door locked, hm?”

“I said, fuck off!” he hollered, spanking another skin splitting hit. Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she tried not to scream. Tommy looked at John and put his hand up, silently telling him to calm down just a tad. The poor girl’s ass was blistering red and on fire. Tommy hadn’t expected his brother to get so worked up.

“Arthur,” Tommy yelled, standing up and leaning into the girl. “It’s my other brother. I’ll be back, sweetheart. Be good to John, eh? Can you do that?” And she nodded, which made him smile. Sweetly, and surprisingly, he kissed her forehead, lingering there. Waltzing around the desk, he paused at John, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just seven more.” John nodded. Something about spanking her made him feral. Made him want to shove her body against his bed, face pushed in the pillow. Tommy unlocked the door and slid out.

When he left, John dropped his belt and leaned over her, hand around her throat. “You really fuckin’ pissed me off yesterday…. Ripping up my shite like that.” He pushed his cock between her legs, allowing it to tease at her lips. Feeling it there felt like hell. She tried to shimmy herself from his grasp, whimpering, but he was far too heavy. “What the fuck you think you’re doing, huh? Coming here with your smart mouth…not so smart now, huh? Your dirty panties shoved down your throat. You can’t even ask me to stop right now. I could do it, you know? Pissed me off so, so fucking bad…I could do it.” He started to move his hips up, his cock slipping between her lips, pushing up and rubbing against her clit. His breath shuddered. “Then you come in here like you fuckin’ own everywhere you step…And you didn’t even apologize. Get this fuckin’ rag out of your mouth!” He pulled it out and grabbed a fist of her hair, and made her sit up a bit. Immediately, she started choking and gasping for all the air she could. “Say you’re fuckin’ sorry.”

Choking on her tears, she cried out, “I’m sorry!”

“Say it again…say you’re fucking sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt.”

She had to pause, squeezing her eyes shut in shame. “I-I’m-”

“Get it the fuck out!” he yelled in her ear.

“I’m sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt!”

“Good,” he said, about to position himself when the door opened and locked behind him. He closed his eyes, cursing. Tommy walked around the desk, looking at his brother. “I finished the spanking….”

“Did you?” he asked, and John nodded. Tommy looked at the girl. “Did he?” She nodded. Tommy tsked and shook his head. “Are you lying to me, sweetheart?” When she nodded again, Tommy looked up at John. “Got a fuckin’ wife at home and you’re that horny? Get a new fuckin’ wife, eh? Take your cock and put it away.” John groaned, pushing away from the girl, fixing himself.

“Really, Tommy? You made me do this and you won’t let me finish?” he asked.

Tommy lit another smoke and said, “no, your job was to spank her…never said to fuck the girl. You can leave. Arthur is outside waiting. You two need to go run some errands for me.” John rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before heading out the door. When it slammed shut and locked, Tommy looked down at her. “Did he fuck you?” She shook her head. “Use your words.”

“No, sir,” she choked.

He gave a quick nod, “good.” Tommy sat back in his chair and leaned back. “C’mere.” The girl paused for a second watching as he patted his lap before slowly climbing off the desk and into his lap. “Good girl,” he cooed, bringing her into his chest. “Rest against me. Don’t worry, we’re done with our little lesson. Did you learn anything?”

“Yes, sir.’

“And what did you learn?”

“To be a good girl.” Tommy smiled at that answer, cradling her in his arms. His hand danced in circles around her back while her head rested against his chest. “Can I go home soon?” she asked, feeling worn out and filthy from what had happened. Nevermind emotionally and mentally fucked.

Tommy looked down at her before he said, “no. I think you and Mr. Shelby will spend some more time together. Perhaps for the evening. How does that sound, eh?” He placed a kiss on her head and called her a, “pretty girl.” She couldn’t fight him. It was no use. Submitting, she snuggled into his lap, yawning. “And I think you and I can make a new arrangement in regards to the protection fee.” With that, he stood, holding her in his arms. “C’mon,” he whispered. “I’ll take you to my home and we’ll have a bath.”

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strangesthirdeye · 19 days

Text

I'M HIS- {SEVERUS SNAPE X WIFE! READER}

Summary: When cat is finally out of the bag Warning: IT'S SEVERUS SNAPE! WE'RE ALL LOVE HIM! Fluff, low angst, gentle, wounds, blood, not so major injuries, Order of the Phoenix, mentioned of kill, Death Eater, swearing, LOVELY man, OOC Severus Snape? Fluff, love, marriage, As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

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"The Death Eater is getting more violent"

"They just want to show that they are back.. The Dark Lord is back" Said Sirius, hands crossed in front of him. He looked at Remus.

"And yet they are trying to bring back some old Death Eaters and recruiting some new Death Eaters." Remus muttered.

"The Dark Lord wants to make sure that they will win the war this time. They want the power to conquer the whole Wizarding World" Said Sirius.

Severus remained silent as he had nothing to say in this matter. He knows that they are outnumbered regarding how many Death Eaters there are. Although Severus was only a spy on both sides, that didn't mean he didn't have split feelings. Concerned and nervous. But despite all those feelings, he managed to masked them all.

"Despite all that, Sirius. We can't let Harry join The Order. He's still a child" Said Remus to Sirius. He knows what Sirius is thinking regarding he has known Sirius for a long time.

"But we can't just let him be left behind. He needs to know everything. He's been through a lot before why can't we just let him join the Order if that's what he wants" Sirius reasoned.

"He's not your son, Sirius" Molly replied as she stared at Sirius intently.

"He's good to be one." Sirius insisted.

"Harry is not James" Molly stated.

Severus scoffed at the name of James Potter. His old arch enemy. He despises that man with all his life. His old bully that he will never forgive. It might sound selfish but that's the truth. He hates him just like he hates that Potter's son. Harry reminds Severus about James and he hates that his old bitter memories are opened whenever he sees Harry's face.

"He's good. Can't you see his spirit?" Sirius replied.

"Even if we see his spirit, Sirius. That doesn't mean he can join the Order. He's still a child. Who else has he got?" Remus muttered firmly, hands clasped on the table as he stared at Sirius in front of him.

"He's got me. He's already like my son" Sirius replied.

"How sentimental that is, Black. It makes me want to puke" Severus said sarcastically.

"Stay out of this, Snivellius" Sirius glared at him. "Mind your own business"

Severus rolled his eyes at him. With insults thrown at him, Severus tended to ignore them as usual. He has been used to the insults thrown at him since school, which he dealt with by ignoring it. He has been called many names and been called many things that shouldn't be even though he has been through many things that shouldn't be.

But sometimes there are times when he starts to fight back but it ends up hurting him. Throughout his school years at Hogwarts, for him is a place that can be called home and hell. Why? first it is called home is because he can distance himself from his abusive father and why he calls it hell is with all these bullying he went through while he was at Hogwarts.

But some things never change. He still goes through that phase even as an adult. Severus just remained silent at the table. Silently hoping that this meeting ends early. He doesn't want to be here but Dumbledore insisted him to join the meeting.

"Bastard" Severus silently cursed as he fidgeted his fingers under the table.

As the whole Order of the Phoenix was bickering, suddenly out of nowhere a loud crack appeared in front of the door 12 Grimmauld Place making everyone silent. They looked at each other in alarm before they rushed to the front door.

It is quite impossible for people to apparate into 12 Grimmauld place easily because they have put some spells to prevent people from apparating or entering at will. Hearing that familiar sound made them rush to the front door.

Severus was not far behind. What they found was a middle-aged woman, dressed in a black robe from top to bottom, her combat boots dirty with fresh mud, her clothes dirty with mud and moss while her face was hidden by her hood. The woman seemed to be leaning heavily on the wall. Her chest fell and rose to draw in and exhale her gasping breath as she groaned with fatigue and pain. The woman looked up to them weakly.

She then smiled genuinely. The Order of The Phoenix members who had drawn their wands on the woman frowned in confusion. Molly looked at her with concern.

The woman opened her mouth. "I believe Dumbledore said that Severus Snape is here" the woman weakly said.

Severus frowned as he walked past them to see the mysterious woman. The woman, upon seeing Severus in her line of sight, smiled weakly at him.

"They got me" The woman said. A sense of sorrow in her voice as she began to lose consciousness.

Severus widened his eyes upon hearing that as he suddenly bolted towards the woman who was almost sliding to the ground and managed to catch her from stomping to the ground.

Severus held up her head in his hands, one hand opened the woman's hood and revealed the woman's face to the other members of the Order of Phoenix.

They frowned with a hint of unfamiliarity at the woman. Her face is full of bruises and cuts that are still covered in blood. They slowly lowered their wands when they sensed that this woman was not harmed.

Severus whispered her name under his breath, trying to wake her up but she didn't respond. When Severus tried to adjust his hold on the woman, he then noticed that the shoulders of the woman's robes were wet. His hand supported her head while the other tapped her cheek to wake her up and started to touch the woman's shoulder carefully.

He pulled his hand that was holding her shoulder. There were blood stains on his palm. He furrowed his eyebrow with worry before he picked up the woman in a bridal style and walked past the other members who were watching the scene suspiciously.

"Snape wh-"

"don't get involved in this, Black" Severus hissed.

"who is she? How does she know about this place?" Remus asked.

Severus ignored them as he took the woman in his arms to one of the rooms in 12 Grimmauld place. Hearing some noises from downstairs, Harry, Hermione, Ron and the others who were hanging out in one of the rooms upstairs started to go out to see the source of the noise.

They all had confused expressions when they heard the bickering between the adults there. But then their expressions changed as Severus walked in front of them to enter one of the rooms in Grimmauld place. They never saw their Pofessor whom they despised go upstairs as long as he attended the Order of The Pheonix meeting let alone using one of the rooms here.

Harry noticed his godfather behind Severus who was still asking questions about the unconscious woman but then Sirius was silent when Severus shut the door in his face. Sirius turned the doorknob a few times knowing that the door had been locked by Severus. He scoffed before he turned his gaze to another place but then his eyes caught his godson's gaze.

Harry raised his eyebrows as if asking a question which Sirius pursed his lips and shook his head.

"You should all be in bed. It's late" Sirius muttered as he strode down to the downstairs.

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Severus Kneeled beside the unconscious woman's bed. His eyebrows furrowed with concentration as he washed several wounds and cuts on the woman's face with a wet cloth to prevent infection. The woman's shirt was flipped aside for Severus to treat the wound on the woman's shoulder easily. He then put the wet cloth into a container filled with water before reaching for some potion bottles that he had brought incase something like this happened between The Order of the Phoenix.

Severus then applied the ointment he made on the woman's cuts and wounds, especially on the woman's shoulder. The woman was still unconscious which made Severus slightly worried. He then looked towards the woman's hand. His eyes seemed focused on the ring finger. There resides a simple silver ring on the woman's finger. Severus narrowed his eyes.

The same ring he was wearing. Severus diverted his gaze on the woman's face which was clean of blood. He moved closer to her then moved the strands of hair from the woman's face gently. Severus sighed lowly as he sat back against the wall beside the bed. Waiting for this mysterious woman to wake up. His hand held the woman's hand, thumb rubbed the back of the woman's hand tenderly.

As he seems to zoned out, he didn't notice the woman's eyebrows twitched indicating that the woman had begun to regain consciousness. The woman turned her head weakly as she let out a soft breath. Pain is still felt in her body. Eyes still closing but she is still aware of the warmth in her hands. Severus turned his attention from space to the woman alarmingly.

"Sev-"

"shh" Severus shushed her as he stroked the woman's face softly.

The woman sighed. "They got me"

"I know.." Severus replied.

"They know I'm a double agent"

Severus remained silent. His hand still stroking the woman's face as the woman finally opened her eyes and looked at Severus.

"I failed the mission" She whimpered.

"no, you're not, Y/n" Severus moved his body to take the woman into his arms.

"Voldemort knows that I work for Dumbledore. He knows that I am loyal to Dumbledore and not him." You paused to swallow. "He said that in the end I will betray him. Severus.. He's been suspecting me all this time. He knows. I'm scared that he will come to you too" you whimpered into his chest.

Hearing Voldemort's name made Severus' spine shiver. He remained silent as he kept embracing you.

"Don't worry about me, Love. I know what I should do." Severus assured.

You are still hugging his body. Face looked up looking at Severus' face with cheeks wet with tears. Your eyes are red from crying.

"But I'm scared Severus, that he will suspect you too. He knows that we-"

"I know.. " Severus said lowly as he stroked your hair gently. "I'll make sure he doesn't suspect anything about me"

You just nodded as you hugged his torso tightly as if your life depended on him. Severus didn't care about how tightly you hugged him but instead he hugged you tightly too. He put his chin on top of your head as he rubbed your back reassuringly.

After a few minutes of embracing each other, you both finally parted away. You bow your head as you sniffles. Severus looked at you with concern before he took your face to look at him. He palmed your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that wet your cheeks.

"You're going to be okay. He won't do anything to you as long as I'm with you" Severus whispered as he kissed your forehead. "you're safe here"

"I'm sorry if I suddenly apparated here. Dumbledore gave me the address of this place because he said you would be here with the Order" You muttered. "They must be surprised to see people they don't know suddenly appear"

"nonsense. That's not what you need to worry about." Severus replied. "Besides they must be wondering who are you to me"

"They will definitely be surprised upon hearing what we are to each other" You said, smiling fondly.

"Obviously" Severus muttered. "Are you okay now?" Severus added.

You hummed as you rested your head on his chest. "I'm fine as long as you're by my side"

Severus faintly smiled at that as he kissed your crown of hair. "Good, now we have to explain to them about the outburst earlier"

You huffed. "Is it necessary?"

"Yes" Severus replied.

You sighed before nodding in agreement.

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"So what you said is that she is your... Wife?" Arthur mumbled in disbelief. Eyes looked at you and Severus.

Severus hummed as he kept himself close to your side as a way to support you to stand. You glanced at him gratefully before diverting your gaze to Arthur.

"We have a reason to hide this. But we can't hide this for long, can we?" you replied.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Can't believe that Snivellius got this beautiful woman"

"and you don't? " You furrowed your eyebrows as Severus glared at him, lips faintly smirked at your statement.

Remus sent his warning look at Sirius. "We don't need to inflame the situation, Sirius"

"What? It's true. Don't tell me you're on his side" Sirius crossed his arms.

"I'm not on anyone's side" Remus said firmly.

"She's a Death Eater! We can't trust her" Sirius snapped.

"She's a double agent just like Snape" Remus replied.

"Gentlemen, please... Take this matter seriously. We don't need any arguments here." Arthur interjected as he glared at the two men. He sighed. Molly looked at him with concern as she rubbed her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Look. What Severus did about keeping his relationship a secret was a reasonable thing due to the situation we're going through right now... Yes, she is a double agent. Dumbledore himself gave her and Severus that qualification. I understand these days no one can be trusted but for once, please investigate it first. Like Severus explained earlier, his wife is a double agent of the Order of the Phoenix and a Death Eater. But that doesn't mean she is loyal to the Death Eater as she herself wants to bring down the Death Eater. She's been through a lot in risking her life in that position. Same goes too Severus but that doesn't mean you all can act like that towards her. Snape has a reason to hide his relationship from everyone because everyone will know that is his weak point. They don't want to risk their loved ones, neither do we, but here we are in the same situation as them. Risking the lives of our loved ones. You just can't be so quick to judge someone easily. They're human too" Arthur shook his head.

All the members there were silent with what Arthur said. There's a truth in what he said, never judge someone easily and don't easily accuse someone based on background.

Sirius sighed in defeat. "Fine.. Sorry about that, Snape's wife"

Severus rolled his eyes at that. You sighed.

You nodded. " And the name Y/n Snape actually." you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Sirius Black, though you knew who am i" Sirius said, leaning against the walls behind him with hands crossing over his chest.

"My husband's bully" you stated coldly.

Sirius and Remus were silent. Severus' lips twitched in a faint smile. Only you can make someone question themselves on the spot. Making them speechless.

"I believe we have both explained everything to you. I'm afraid I need to take my wife home to get enough rest. She's been through a lot. Farewell" Severus took your hand and slowly led you out of Grimmauld Place to apparated.

As soon as the two of you left the place, you took a breath of fresh air that night. A cold temperature slapped your skins, you brought your body closer to Severus for warmth. Severus put his hand on your uninjured shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Severus asked in concerned.

You nodded. "Brilliant. Those men really make me tired. Mentally." you said in amusement. "Though it was quite satisfying to silence Sirius Black"

Severus faintly smirked. "He deserves what he asked for" Severus murmured.

"And I won't let it slide easily" You added.

Severus brought your body closer to his. "Thank you.. For being with me"

You smiled genuinely at him as you side hugged him. "Always"

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