#publicity fluff

[formsofcontinuity]

chapters 1, 2, and 3 (or, all earlier chaps on AO3)

chapter 4: calling birds

Lena wakes up the morning of Wednesday, December 28th with two hundred and twenty-seven new Twitter followers and over three thousand mentions. There’s also a 2am text from Kara, just Good night, Lena <3, which does nothing to explain Lena’s sudden surge in social media popularity but does serve to warm her cheeks for a minute or two. She's a fool. A simple good night, and it has her blushing like a schoolgirl.

It takes a little digging, Lena still propped in bed in soft pajamas under an even softer duvet, but eventually she finds the source, a tweet from Kara's official publicity account, timestamped 2:17am:

@therealsupergirl: Always happy to serve the people of NC ofc, but have you checked out what @lenaluthor is doing lately @LLFoundation #lenaluthorfoundation? Low-cost water purifiers? High efficiency solar power generators? Safe plastics recycling? She's the real MVP--show her some love! 💙♻️❤️

What follows is a collection of some of the kindest tweets she's ever had directed towards her, most from complete strangers. Sure, there's a wayward screed or two, but of the few dozen she reads before she looks at the time and realizes she has to get up so she can be ready for an 8am Zoom call with a coalition of East Coast investors, eager to donate prior to the New Year for the tax write-off, the vast majority are complementary.

@piratelifeforme: Wow! I spent all morning reading about what @LLFoundation is up to and I had NO IDEA. Do yourself a favor and check it out, then get on board this train. Superheroes are one thing, but humans have the power to help fix this mess we made, too.

@greenplanetnow: yes @therealsupergirl, you're right! The #lenaluthorfoundation cleaned up a massive water contamination issue in my town after months of unanswered calls to the gov. They did it without asking for a cent, but almost no one reported on it. Not all heroes wear capes. 🙏🏾

@drclimatewatch: As one of the scientists following @lenaluthor 's work, I can verify: her Foundation's charter and her team's innovations truly can revolutionize environmental science. We've wasted too much time on petty rumors when we should be supporting her as a brilliant engineer.

Even Sam has retweeted Kara's message, absent her usual snark.

@samarias: Damn straight, @therealsupergirl! @lenaluthor is not only the smartest woman on the planet, but also a great boss and a true friend who will go to hell and back to do the right thing no matter what people think of her.

The investors on the 8am call are more generous than Lena expected, having thoroughly read her Foundation's report and expressing genuine excitement over the work she's doing. They don't mention Supergirl's tweet, but Lena knows it influenced their level of enthusiasm.

Daniel, her Foundation's head of publicity, calls at 9:30, barreling past Lena’s apologies to assure her that he's thrilled to trade in a couple of his vacation days to help navigate this sudden windfall.  After that, she migrates from her home office to the Foundation office and spends the next few hours on the phone with department heads and her research team strategizing ways to capitalize on the good press wrought by Kara's tweet. By noon, Daniel has fielded calls from twenty-six news outlets, local, national and international, and issued a press release thanking Supergirl for her generous endorsement and directing interested parties to the Foundation's robust website, white papers, and quarterly reports. 

"Want me to help craft your personal response?" Lena's social media manager, Rochelle, is on the phone now. Lena's name is trending, for a good reason for the first time in forever, and she's long since stopped trying to keep track of her mentions. 

"Pardon?"

Rochelle had been typing in the background of their call, but now the clacking pauses. "I had your Foundation account respond several hours ago, but I imagine you want to respond personally, too. Right?"

Oh. Of course, Lena wants to respond personally, but none of the things she's thinking are fit for public consumption. She's pretty sure a declaration of love would shift the conversation in counterproductive ways, for example. Same with asking Kara via tweet about last night's kiss. And then there are the things she wants to say but can't put into words. A wellspring of gratitude. Overwhelming affection. Anxiety about living up to Kara's public declaration of support. Confusion over Kara's decision to tweet that support to the world and to call on her followers to do the same.

"Thanks, Rochelle. Everything you're doing is great. I've been swamped, but I absolutely plan to respond. I think I can manage to come up with something on my own. Is there anything else? I have another call."

"All good, Ms. Luthor. Let me know if you change your mind."

It's a lie. There's no other call, but she needs a moment to think. She needs to talk to Kara. Not tweet at her, just talk. 

Almost immediately, she loses her nerve, the possibilities of all the directions their conversation could go swirling in her mind. Texting seems like a safe compromise, although she bungles it pretty much out of the gate.

Sorry I didn’t message before now. I’m being besieged with tweets for some reason.... 

The reply is immediate. Oh no. Are you mad? 🥺 I just wanted everyone to know how awesome you are. And I wanted you to hear it from them, too, since you never believe me when I say it. 

Lena is not very good at this–gratitude or friendship or whatever social minefield this is that Kara is clearly so much better at navigating. The idea that Kara could possibly think she’d be mad for something so sweet hurts her heart. 

Not mad at all! Sorry. That text was supposed to be – What? Coy? Flirtatious? Funny? It was clearly none of those things; she lands on – thankful. I was just so surprised.

A good surprise?

A lovely surprise, yes.

<3

Lena allows herself a few minutes, then, just to sit and text her best friend, without worrying too much about everything else. She tells her about waking up to the Twitter mentions, about the new investments, about how Daniel and Rochelle were so excited they both offered independently to defer part of their vacation time to help her wrangle media requests and publicity. She doesn't tell her how warm the messages from thousands of people made her feel, that those completely unknown to her might be affected by what she’s done, for good this time, that other people might actually have cause to like and respect her. 

In the end, she settles for a Streetcar Named Desire joke.

I have never depended on the kindness of strangers, Kara.

Kara doesn’t miss a beat. You don’t strike me as a Blanche anyway. Did it feel good, this one time?

Leave it to Kara to cut to the chase. 

It did. Thank you.

My pleasure. 

Lena’s phone beeps. Daniel needs her to talk to some new potential investors in a half hour and has sent along their portfolio. 

I have to go. I’m so sorry.

It's ok. I know you're busy.

Thanks to you, even more so than usual. 😂

Haha. I didn’t think that one through, did I? 

I don’t mind, Kara. I’m thrilled the Foundation is making a difference. 

I mind! When are you going to find time for me if you’re mobbed by all your other adoring fans? 

Lena looks hard at her phone. All your other adoring fans. She could go for teasing deflection or affectionate sincerity in her response, and vacillates for a moment between the two. 

You know you're my favorite. I should have time after tomorrow’s press conference? Coffee? 

I’d love that. 

Before Lena turns to the files Daniel sent, she pulls up Twitter on her computer, and quickly fires off a response before she can talk herself out of it, posting it, with only a hint of trepidation, for all the world to see. 

@lenaluthor:  Thank you all. I want nothing more than to work together to save our planet. It's ours, aliens and humans alike. And Supergirl? I couldn't ask for a better ally or partner, one who challenges and encourages me. Not a day goes by I'm not grateful for you, @therealsupergirl

[kiiozawa]

Ex-Bf!Sukuna always drove you to work when you dated because you would get out late due to working as a server. That doesn't stop when you break up with him. You insist that you don't need him to do all that and he insists that he has to because why would he let his (stubborn) princess walk home late at night. So, Sukuna is always waiting for you outside the restaurant with a cigarette in between his lips. He can see how exhausted you are when you get into his car. A deep sigh exits your lungs as relief fills you up, glad that this double shift is over.

Sukuna lowers the volume of his radio as he notices that you're drifting to sleep. He stubs his cigarette and throws it out his window as he drives you home for the 5th time that week.

[mrsjellymunson]

Start Something

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

My masterlist

Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰

My masterlist

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer

[sadnymi]

Loml p2

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

P.s:this takes place before the start of part one and during it , this one is from mattheo POV, can read It as a stand alone [you can read part one here | p1 | .] [part3]

Warnings:Angst,family drama, past trauma, abusing father, violent,smut,strong language.

Words:12k.

They say you inherit your father's eyes, his nose, the shape of his jaw. But what they don't say is you inherit the weight of his choices. The weight of a name that chills hearts and shatters families. 

My father speaks of a world cleansed, of magic pure and untainted. He speaks of a glorious future built on the ashes of the old. But what future is built on sacrifice? On the screams of innocents echoing in the dead of night?

Another victory. Another display of power etched onto my already formidable reputation. The whispers followed me everywhere – "He's his father's son," they hissed, "Mark my words, he'll be the end of us all." It was a constant thrum in my ear, a prophecy carved in stone.

The roar of the crowd fueled the fire in my fists. Another boy, twice my size, crumpled under the onslaught, his face contorted in pain. Rage, a familiar companion, coursed through me, a dark echo of something I didn't understand. Power,they called it. Legacy. My father's legacy.

Just as I raised my hand for another blow, a flicker of movement caught my eye. A girl, with (y/e/c), stood at the edge of the crowd, her gaze fixed on me. 

For a fleeting moment, the world around me shrunk, the cheers and jeers dissolving into a deafening silence. In her eyes, there wasn't fear, nor the twisted pleasure the others seemed to relish. There was... something else. A flicker of concern, a hint of understanding.

Before I could analyze it further, a primal instinct took over. I ripped my hand away from the fallen boy, the sudden movement sending a jolt of surprise through him. The crowd erupted in confused murmurs. Without a word, I stalked towards the girl, a cold terror blooming in my gut.

"Don't you dare say a word of this," I hissed, the words coming out harsher than I intended. Her eyes widened, but she didn't flinch.

"I won't," she whispered. "I understand."

To my surprise, she didn't retreat. Instead, she turned and rushed back to the boy I'd hurt, kneeling beside him. The sight of her concern for the boy, the madness in her eyes, made something inside me twist in a way it never had before.

Later that night, as the castle settled into a hushed silence, I found myself drawn to the empty courtyard. Restless, I paced beneath the star-dusted sky.

Then, I saw her. She materialized from the shadows, her robes swirling around her like a whispered secret. My breath hitched in my throat.

"Hi," she said, offering a small smile. "My name's Y/n. What's yours?"

Silence. I stared at her.

"You know my name,"

Her smile faltered for a second, then returned. "Yeah, but it's nicer to hear it from you. Anyway, I love Grindylows! Did you see one in the lake yet?"

I didn't answer. Grindylows? What did she care about a water demon?

"Maybe not," she continued, seemingly unfazed by my silence. Then, before I could stop her, she reached out and gingerly took my hand in hers. It was warm, a stark contrast to the chilling loneliness I was accustomed to.

"The other kids," she started, her voice barely a whisper. "They say things about you. That you're…different. That you'll turn out like…him." Her eyes met mine. "Don't listen to them. It's not true, I know it's not."

I pulled back, the warmth of her touch lingering on my skin like a phantom limb. It was a feeling both exhilarating and terrifying, a strange current running through me.

Her gaze held mine, unwavering. "Can we be friends?" she asked, her voice soft as a summer breeze. "Just you and me?"

I looked into her eyes, searching for the fear, the hatred, anything familiar. But all I found was a gentle hope, a yearning for connection.

And in that moment, amidst the familiar darkness, a spark ignited within me. A feeling I couldn't name, but one I craved nonetheless. It was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a beacon in the storm.

All I could do was nod, a small. A radiant smile lit up her face, as bright as the stars above. "Friends it is," she said, her voice filled with a joy that resonated deep within me.

Days passed and I started to feel like I did a big mistake.

Following me again, I see. Honestly, it's becoming quite the morning routine.

"Mattheo! Wait up!" she called as I tried to make my escape from the crowded hallway. She bounced after me, her energy almost overwhelming.

" Leave me alone," I muttered for the tenth time, turning to face her. Her wide eyes sparkled with mischief.

"But Mattheo, we're friends," she said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "And friends stick together, right?"

"Not this much," I replied, but she just laughed, a sound that was both infectious and irritating.

We spent the rest of the day together, or rather, I tried to lose her, but she always managed to pop up again. It was like she had some sixth sense for where I'd be next. By the time the sun began to set, I was finally free—or so I thought.

I walked out of the castle, seeking some peace, heading towards my usual spot by the tree near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

As I sat down, a small twig fell onto my shoulder. I glanced up, ready to brush it off, only to find a tuft of hair hanging from the branches.

No way. I got up and looked up, squinting into the branches. Sure enough, there she was, sprawled out on a thick limb like she owned the place.

"What the— Y/N, what the fuck are you doing here?" I couldn't believe my eyes.

She looked down at me, completely unbothered. "I'm reading, Matty. Do you want to come up here?" She held up a book, swinging her legs lazily.

I just shook my head in disbelief, not even bothering to respond. As I walked away, I could still hear her giggling from up in the tree.

Days like this were far too common. I had tried everything to shake her off, but she was like a particularly stubborn pixie, always popping up where I least expected—or wanted—her to be.

But then come that day when a Gryffindor boy, whose name I didn’t bother to learn, decided to mouth off about my father.

"Hey, Riddle Jr., how does it feel being the spawn of a maniac?" he jeered, loud enough for everyone in the common room to hear.

I clenched my fists, ready to shut him up myself, but before I could even move, Y/N had stepped in. She sauntered over to him, all smiles and innocence.

"Hi there," she chirped. "You must be new. I'm Y/N."

The boy sneered, "What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just thought I'd introduce myself properly." She extended her hand, and as he reached out to take it, she moved faster than I thought possible. With a swift flick of her wrist, she jabbed him in the ribs, precisely where no one could see. The boy yelped, clutching his side, his face contorted in pain.

"Oops, sorry," Y/N said sweetly, not an ounce of sincerity in her voice. "You really should be more careful."

The boy's scream drew everyone's attention, and he glared at her, but he couldn't prove anything. I couldn't help but smile as I watched him limp away, defeated.

Y/N sauntered back to me, a satisfied grin on her face. "

I shook my head, unable to suppress my smile. She was crazy, no doubt about it, but she was my kind of crazy.

Years passed at Hogwarts, and Y/N was always there by my side. What once seemed like an annoying habit of following me everywhere turned into a constant presence I couldn't imagine being without. She wasn't just the crazy girl who trailed after me anymore; she became the girl I couldn't spend a day without.

Every Quidditch match, I could count on looking up and seeing her in the stands, and I know she was here for me just for me, and I found myself playing harder, if only to see that proud smile on her face.

In between classes, she would run up to me, breathless and excited, ready to spill the latest gossip she’d overheard. "Matty, you won’t believe what I just heard!" she’d say, eyes wide with intrigue. Gossiping was her guilty pleasure, and as much as I pretended to be annoyed, I secretly loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked.

One day, she caught me in the courtyard, practically bouncing on her toes. "Matty, did you hear? Serena and Thomas broke up! And she was seen with—"

"Slow down, Y/N," I laughed, ruffling her hair. "You’re going to explode if you keep all this excitement bottled up."

She giggled, playfully swatting my hand away.

As time went on, I found myself becoming more protective of her. The thought of anyone making her cry made my blood boil. I couldn’t stand seeing tears in her eyes, I watched over her like a hawk. If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way, they’d have me to answer to. It wasn’t just about protecting her, though. I realized that I needed her. Her laughter, her stories, her unwavering belief in me—she was my anchor.

I maintained my aloof façade, the mask I knew all too well. Emotions, for me, were a foreign language, their expressions clumsy and awkward. Yet, Y/n never faltered. She saw through the cracks in my carefully constructed walls, peering into the darkness with an unsettling understanding.

As we grew up, that fire only intensified. I noticed the way boys looked at her, their gazes lingering too long, their smiles a bit too eager. It drove me mad. She had always been beautiful, but as she matured, she became even more stunning, if that was possible. It wasn’t just her appearance—it was her confidence, her grace. She drew attention effortlessly

leaving Potions class, I overheard a group of boys whispering.

"Did you see Y/N today?" one of them snickered. "Merlin, I'd give anything to get her alone. Imagine what we could do... cause look at her. Bet she'd be wild in bed"

Rage flared in my chest. I walked over, my expression deceptively calm. "Care to repeat that?" I asked, smiling in a way that I knew was anything but friendly.

The boy looked up, a smirk still on his face. "I was just saying, Y/N’s looking quite... inviting today."

"Mate, I think it's time for you to apologize," Enzo said, his tone mockingly friendly.

“For what? for saying that y/n is__,”

I didn't give him a chance to continue. With a swift, hard punch, I hit him square in the jaw. He stumbled back, clutching his face, but I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, hitting him again and again. Blood spattered, and I could feel my knuckles splitting, but I didn't care.

Theo and Enzo stood beside me, positioned themselves to ensure no one could interrupt, keeping a watchful eye on the crowd that had begun to gather.

"Say it again," I say, my smile widening as the boy's eyes filled with fear. "Say something else about her."

The boy whimpered, blood dripping from his nose. "I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it."trying to get I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. "If you ever say anything like that again, I'll do more than just hit."

Before I could continue, a voice cut through the tension. "What is going on here?" Professor Snape's tone was icy as he strode towards us, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

"Nothing, Professor," Theo said smoothly. "Just a little misunderstanding."

Snape's gaze shifted to me, then to the boy, who was still crumpled on the floor. "Detention, Mr. Riddle," Snape said, his voice low and dangerous. "And you two," he pointed at Theo and Enzo, "for aiding in this... commotion."

"Yes, Professor," I said, not taking my eyes off the boy as I released him.

As Snape began dispersing the crowd, Y/N ran up to me, her face full of concern. "Mattheo, your knuckles are bleeding! Why did you hit him like that? what happened"

I looked at her, my anger melting away at the sight of her worry. Gently, I put my hand on her face, pulling her close and kissing her forehead.

She sighed, her eyes searching mine. "You can't just go around hitting people, Mattheo you know?"

"Watch me." I murmured, still smiling. holding her gaze. "Tell me, what were you reading earlier? That book you were so interested in?"

She blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "Um, it was about ancient runes. I'm trying to understand the inscriptions we found in the Forbidden Forest."

"Sounds fascinating," I said. "Let's go talk about it."

She looked at me, her worry not completely gone but softened by my genuine interest. "Alright," she said quietly, and we walked away

The Yule Ball was approaching, and the entire school buzzed with excitement. Dresses and suits were being fitted, and every conversation seemed to revolve around who was asking whom. But amidst the excitement, Y/N and I had our first big fight.

"Why does it matter so much, Mattheo?" she yelled, her voice trembling with frustration.

"Because I don't like the way Cormac has been looking at you," I shot back, pacing the common room. "He's a creep, and you know it."

"He's my friend," she retorted, crossing her arms. "And you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Really? You think it's ridiculous that I don't want some perv ogling you?"

"It's not just about him, is it? You're jealous. Admit it."

"That's not —," I snapped, though a part of me knew she was right. "I just—"

"You just what?" she interrupted, her eyes flashing with anger.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. She shook her head.

"Forget it, Mattheo. I can't deal with this right now," she said, turning on her heel and storming out of the room.

The next morning, the entire school was buzzing with talk of the Grindylow attack on Cormac McLaggen. Apparently, the self-important jerk had been ambushed near the lake, and now everyone was either horrified or laughing about it. As I walked out of the castle, a smirk crept onto my face, knowing exactly who could orchestrate something like that. I headed toward the lake, confident I would find her there.

Sure enough, there she was, her form reflected in the water as she practiced with a sword. Her movements were fluid, precise. She didn’t notice me at first, too caught up in her training. But then, she caught sight of me and rolled her eyes before turning back to her practice, ignoring my presence.

"Did you hear about Cormac?" I called out, trying to get her attention. 

She didn't respond, just continued swinging the sword with focused intensity.

I walked closer, unable to help myself. "They say a Grindylow got him. Attacked him out of nowhere."

Still, she acted like I wasn't there. I stepped forward and grabbed the sword by its blade, halting her mid-swing. Her eyes widened in shock and concern as she saw me gripping the sharp metal.

"Are you crazy, Mattheo?" she exclaimed, yanking the sword back. 

"Only one person could manage to get a Grindylow to attack someone," I said, smirking. 

She didn't deny it. Instead, she shot back, "I'm sending them after you next time."

"Yeah, yeah," I said dismissively, a grin tugging at my lips. "What did he do, anyway?"

Her expression darkened. "That cunt of an idiot thought he could just kiss me," she spat, her anger palpable.

Jealousy flared up inside me, but I pushed it down. "And he found out how wrong he was, huh?"

She shot me a look. "You're an idiot, Mattheo."

"Me? Why?" I say, as she spoke, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—her eyes, her lips. Damn those lips. They haunted my dreams, and seeing them tremble made something inside me snap.

“Maybe I should have just kissed him. It's just a kiss anyway, not that big of a deal."

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just a kiss, huh?"

She continued, almost to herself, "I was saving my first kiss for—" She stopped and looked away. "I can't keep waiting forever. I'll die without experiencing it."

I looked at her, really looked at her. and she turned to leave. I grabbed her arm and gently held her face, forcing her to look at me. "Would you send a Grindylow after me if I kissed you?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide with a mixture of defiance and curiosity.

Without waiting another second, I closed the gap between us, pressing my lips against hers. The kiss was better than everything I dreamed about, intense, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. Her lips were soft, and I felt her melt into me, her hands gripping my shirt as if to keep herself grounded.

I deepened the kiss, my hand moving to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. I could feel the heat radiating from her, matching the fire inside me. Her lips parted slightly, and I took the opportunity to explore further, tasting her, savoring every moment.

When we finally pulled apart, her eyes were wide with surprise and something else—something that mirrored what I felt inside.

"Still planning to send a Grindylow after me?" I whispered, a teasing smile on my lips.

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Not if you keep kissing me like that."

Good things are supposed to happen to good people. And I always wondered how someone like me could ever deserve her. From the first day I saw her, I knew I would give everything to this girl. Over time, it became clear that my heart wasn’t mine anymore. It belonged to her.

Every time I see her, it’s like a magnet pulling me in, an irresistible force that I can't fight even if I wanted to. After the kiss, I can't seem to keep my hands off her. It's like a switch has been flipped inside me, and now, I'm constantly drawn to her, craving the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin.

Every stolen moment between classes, every hidden corner of the castle, becomes an opportunity to indulge in this newfound obsession.

Today is no different. I spot her in the library, bent over a thick book, her hair cascading over her shoulder. She doesn’t see me yet.

I approach quietly, my steps silent on the worn stone floor. When I’m close enough, I let my fingers brush over her shoulder, causing her to jump slightly and look up at me with those eyes that always seem to see right through me.

“Mattheo,” she breathes, a smile tugging at her lips.

I smirk, leaning down to capture her mouth with mine, my hand tangling in her hair. My other hand snakes around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the curve of her body against mine. She responds immediately, her hands gripping my shirt, pulling me down to deepen the kiss.

“Not here,” she murmurs against my lips, but there’s no conviction in her voice. Her body is saying otherwise, pressing against me with a need that matches my own.

“Here,” I insist, nipping at her bottom lip.

Before she can protest further, I’ve got her backed into a secluded corner of the library, hidden from prying eyes. My mouth moves from her lips to her neck, sucking gently, eliciting a soft moan from her. It’s music to my ears, fueling the fire inside me.

“Mattheo,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “We’ll get caught.”

“Let them catch us,” I growl, my hands roaming over her body, feeling every curve, every dip. “Will kill whoever interupt.”

I capture her lips again, more fiercely this time, my tongue exploring her mouth. She matches my intensity, her hands now under my shirt, fingers grazing my skin. I slide my hand down to the hem of her skirt, slipping underneath to feel the soft skin of her thigh. She shivers at my touch, her breath hitching.

“Please,” she whispers.

I don’t need to be told twice. I drop to my knees, pushing her skirt up, exposing her. She’s already wet, her arousal evident. I look up at her, meeting her eyes.

There’s a moment of pure, raw connection before I lean in, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. Her legs tremble, and she grips the shelf behind her for support.

I tease her with my tongue, flicking over her clit lightly before taking it into my mouth, sucking gently.

Her moan is louder this time, her hips bucking towards me. I hold her steady, my hands on her hips, guiding her movements. I delve deeper, tasting her fully, my tongue exploring every inch of her. Her hands find their way into my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on.

“Mattheo,” she moans, her voice breathy and desperate. “Don’t stop.”

I have no intention of stopping. I increase my pace, my tongue working her clit faster, harder. Her moans become more frequent, her body trembling with the intensity of her impending orgasm. I can feel it building, her muscles tightening, her breath coming in short gasps.

She cries out, her body convulsing with pleasure, her nails digging into my scalp. I continue my ministrations, riding out her orgasm until she’s quivering and breathless.

I stand, pulling her into my arms, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips. Her arms wrap around my neck, her body melting into mine.

“I love you,” she whispers against my lips.

As the seventh year at Hogwarts drew to a close, whispers filled the air like a thick fog: Voldemort was back. I could feel it, a gnawing certainty deep in my bones. But I couldn't face it—not yet. So I ignored it, pushing down the creeping dread as much as I could.

We were leaving the castle soon, and Y/N had confided in me that she didn't want to go back to her parents' house. The thought of her being anywhere near danger tore at me, but I knew what I had to say.

"It's safer there," I told her, my voice firm yet gentle as we stood in a secluded corridor. I cupped her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. "You have to stay with them, at least for now."

"But I want to be with you," she insisted, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

I kissed her then, softly at first, then with all the desperation I felt. "I promise you, I'm still with you. Always," I whispered against her lips. "But you need to stay there."

Reluctantly, she nodded, and I handed her a small, enchanted locket. "This is for you," I said, fastening it around her neck. "If you need me, just press it, and I'll know. I'll come to you, no matter what."

Two weeks later, Enzo and I were lounging in my room, talking about everything and nothing, when suddenly the locket lit up. Enzo's eyes widened as he pointed. "Mate, is that Y/N?"

I was off the bed in an instant, my heart pounding. "Y/N?" I said into the locket, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "Are you okay?"

"Mattheo, can you come get me?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling and broken. She sounded like she was crying.

"I'm coming. Just hold on," I said, grabbing my jacket and racing out of the room. Enzo's voice was a distant echo as I sprinted down the stairs, keys already in hand.

"Where are you?" I asked into the locket, sliding into my car. Her words were shaky, filled with fear and confusion, as she tried to explain her location.

"I... I don't know exactly. Near the park, I think," she stammered.

"I'm on my way," I reassured her, my knuckles white as I gripped the steering wheel. The streets blurred past me as I drove, my mind solely focused on finding her.

When I finally saw her, my heart nearly stopped. She was sitting on a bench, wearing her pajamas, looking so small and fragile. I jumped out of the car and rushed to her.

"Y/N!" I called. She looked up, her face pale, and I saw the blood on her mouth and nose. Without thinking, she ran to me, and I caught her in my arms, holding her as tightly as I could.

"Mattheo," she sobbed against my chest, and the sight of her hurt made a dark, vengeful fire ignite within me. I would burn the whole world to the ground for this.

Seeing the blood, something inside me snapped. Rage boiled up, threatening to consume me. Whoever did this to her would pay dearly.

"Who did this to you?" I demanded.

She just clung to me tighter, unable to speak through her tears. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to calm the raging storm inside me.

Whoever did this was going to pay. They would beg for mercy, and I wouldn't give it, not after what they did to her.

"Shh, it's okay," I whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I'm here now. You're safe. I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

No one would ever touch her again, not as long as I lived.

I slipped my jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, then scooped her up in my arms, holding her close. She buried her face in my chest, still shaking, and I carried her to the car.

I glanced at Y/N. She was one of the strongest people I knew, and seeing her like this drove me mad with anger. "Let me see," I said. She flinched when I reached out to check the bleeding on her face.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she whispered, but her voice trembled.

I clenched the steering wheel, fighting to control my fury. "Thank you for coming," she began, her voice small and broken.

"Of course I came," I cut her off, my voice rough with emotion. "I will always come for you."

"Tell me who did this? Who did this to you, Y/N?" I said, my voice softer but still edged with anger.

She breathed deeply and looked out the window, her body tense. "You know why I was sure you wouldn’t be like your father, Mattheo?" she said softly. "You shouldn’t be punished for his crimes."

Her voice grew weaker, and it shattered my heart. She turned to look at me, her beautiful eyes filled with tears that I hated seeing there.

"Because I know I'm not like mine," she continued, tears spilling over her cheeks., and for the first time, she let herself cry freely.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. "He did that?"

She looked down, her fingers trembling as she clutched the jacket around her. "He's been... he's been hurting me for years, Mattheo. Tonight, he... he tried to do it again. But this time, I fought back."

My heart ached at her words, rage boiling within me.

She lifted her head, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "I set the house on fire. I watched it burn. I wanted to hurt him as he hurt me."

Tears spilled down her cheeks again, and I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly.

She sobbed against my chest, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. "I don't regret it, Mattheo. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel the pain he caused me."

I held her tighter. "I understand, love. I understand."

We stayed like that for a long time. No one would ever touch her again. Not as long as I lived.

After a moment, I started the car and drove her home. When we arrived, Enzo was sitting in the living room. As soon as he saw her, he stood up quickly, concern etched on his face. I shook my head, a silent command for him not to ask or say anything. He nodded and sat back down, understanding the gravity of the situation.

I led her to my room, gently closing the door behind us. "Let's get you cleaned up," I said softly. I rummaged through my drawer, pulling out a clean shirt for her.

Carefully, I helped her out of her torn clothes, my hands shaking as I saw the extent of her injuries. Blood had dried on her skin, mingling with bruises that were already forming.

"I need to shower," she whispered.

"I'll help you," I replied, guiding her to the bathroom. I turned on the water, making sure it was warm before helping her step in. She winced as the water hit her, and I gently washed the blood from her skin. My heart ached with each wince, each sign of her pain.

Once she was clean, I wrapped her in a towel and led her back to the bedroom. I helped her into my shirt. "Sit down," I said, fetching a first-aid kit. I cleaned the cuts on her face and arms, working carefully to avoid causing her more pain.

"How did you learn to do that?" she asked, her voice weak but curious as I braided her hair with careful precision.

"I watched and learned for you," I replied softly, finishing the braid and tying it off. 

I helped her into bed and lay down beside her, wrapping my arms around her protectively. She clung to my shirt, her fingers gripping tightly as if afraid I would vanish. "I’m here," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I’m not going anywhere."

Her breathing gradually slowed, and she drifted off to sleep, her fingers still clutching my shirt. I held her close. 

As she slept, I vowed silently to be her shield, to fight for her and with her, no matter the cost.

Y/N made me promise not to do anything to her father. Her trust in me is a fragile thread, and I can’t bring myself to break it, no matter how much I despise the man.

Lately, my nightmares have become worse. They’re no longer just shadows and screams. Now, I see my father, his voice echoing through the darkness, calling my name. Every night, it gets louder, more insistent, and I wake up drenched in sweat, his voice still ringing in my ears.

There are signs, subtle but unmistakable, that darkness is creeping back into my life. I don’t want to believe it’s my father, but deep down, I can feel his presence. It’s a sensation I can’t deny any longer, no matter how much I wish it away.

When I got home, I found Y/N sitting with Enzo. I stormed past them, heading straight to my room. Y/N followed quickly.

“Mattheo, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice a mix of concern and frustration.

“Nothing,” I snapped, not turning around.

“Are you mad because I’m staying here?” she pressed, trying to meet my gaze.

“Mad? No, it’s not that,” I said harshly. “It’s everything else. Everything piling up. I can’t take it anymore.”

She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine. “You’re scaring me, Mattheo.”

Hearing her say that broke something inside me. I never wanted to make her feel this way. I turned to her, cupping her face gently. “Love, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I’m drowning in this darkness.”

She looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ve noticed you don’t sleep well. You’ve been having nightmares, haven’t you?”

I pulled her into a tight hug, not wanting to burden her with the horrors of my mind. “Yes, but I don’t want to worry you with them. It’s my battle to fight.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on as if I might slip away. “You don’t have to do this alone, Mattheo.”

The wizarding world saw me in two extremes: a legacy of power or a monster. I’ve always struggled with which one I truly am.

Y/N leaned in and kissed me softly, grounding me in the moment. We moved to the bed, and she settled on my lap, her presence a soothing balm to my tortured soul.

“Let’s leave all of this behind,” she whispered, her lips brushing my ear.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Run away with me. Just you and me, somewhere far away where no one knows us.”

The idea was tempting, but I shook my head. “We can’t. It’s not that simple.”

She looked at me with determination. “Yes, it is. We can make a new life together, away from all this darkness.”

Her conviction started to break down my resistance. “You really think we can do that?”

She nodded, her eyes filled with hope. “I know we can. We just have to take the first step.”

We left everything behind, the shadows of my past fading.The countryside stretched before us, green fields rolling out in every direction. The house stood there, quaint and peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos we’d left behind.

Y/N was beaming, her joy radiating as she looked around. "Can you believe it?" she said, her voice full of excitement. "We’re really here."

I forced a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. "So, we’re living in the countryside now?" I teased, but the words felt hollow. I wasn’t sure this was a great idea. The nightmares and the darkness seemed far away, but they still lingered in my mind.

She noticed my hesitation and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the house. "Come on, let me show you inside. You’re going to love it," she said, her eyes sparkling with pride.

As we walked through the house, she pointed out all the little details she adored. But I wasn’t really looking at the house; I was looking at her. She was so happy, so alive, and it was a beautiful sight.

She caught me staring and paused. "What?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I’m thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you in this house," I said, and she laughed shooking her head.

I pulled her to me, kissing her deeply, my hands roaming her body.

started to unbutton her shirt, my hands moving with a sense of urgency. "I’m going to take you right here, against the wall," I murmured, my voice thick with need. "And then on the kitchen table, and in our bed. You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow, love."

She swatted at me playfully. "Mattheo, don’t ruin anything in the house."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, my tone dripping with mischief. I lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist.

She loved our new house, always pointing out little things she adored about it. One evening, she insisted on making dinner, spaghetti specifically. The kitchen became a warzone of diced vegetables and spilled sauce. Laughing, I pulled her close, lifting her onto the counter.

"Let me handle it, love," I said, kissing her lightly. "You look adorable up there."

She pouted but relented, watching me as I took over the cooking.

She introduced me to muggle movies and insisted I listen to her favorite music. Though it was different from what I was used to, I found myself enjoying it all because it made her happy.

Today, we were lying in a big field, her head resting on my legs. She looked up at the sky and said, "I love the color green."

"Why’s that?" I asked, running my fingers through her hair.

"It reminds me of nature, of life and growth," she said softly. "And because it reminds me of you."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. She turned her head to look at me, a fleeting fear crossing her features. "This feels like a dream," she whispered.

I stroked her cheek. "It’s real, love. I’m here with you."

She sighed, sitting up and looking into my eyes. "I'm afraid, Mattheo. I don't ever want you to leave."

I cupped her face in my hands, my voice firm. "I won’t leave you. I promise."

She smiled and held my face in her hands, her eyes shining with determination. "I promise I will never leave you either. Until my last breath, I will love you, and I will always choose you."

The thought of her last breath made anger flare inside me. "That won't happen," I said stubbornly.

She laughed softly. "It will happen one day, Mattheo."

"No, it won’t," I insisted.

She shook her head gently, her eyes full of understanding. "We can't stop death, Mattheo. And it’s not always a bad thing. I would die happily knowing I have been loved by you in this life, and I will search for you in every life after."

She hugged me then, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.

As the days passed, the feeling grew stronger. I could hear his whispers in the wind, feel his presence lurking in the shadows.

My father was out there, and I could no longer deny it. The darkness he brought with him tainted the very air I breathed.

Y/N came running to me, her arms wrapping around me from behind. "Mattheo, you won't believe what I heard today," she started, her voice full of excitement. "Mrs. Johnson from next door said that Mr. Thompson’s cat was found in the bakery! Can you imagine a cat in the bakery?"

I put my hands over hers, trying to focus on her words, but the whispers were getting worse, growing louder. I could barely hear her over the din in my mind. I kissed her hand softly. "Love, I have to go out for a bit. I won’t be long."

She turned me around, concern etched on her face. "Now? It’s too late, Mattheo. What’s so important?"

"It’s something I need to take care of," I said firmly. "You should sleep. Don’t wait up for me."

Before she could respond, I pulled away, leaving her standing there with a confused and worried expression.

I hated doing this to her, making her feel sad and abandoned. But I couldn't ignore the feeling any longer. I knew it too well, and I couldn't risk whatever was coming happening with her here.

I grew up in a house filled with shadows and whispers, a place where love was a foreign concept. My mother was a mad woman, her mind often lost in a haze. Sometimes she would forget about me entirely, her thoughts barricading her from reality. I learned early on not to rely on her for comfort or stability.

My father, known to the world as Voldemort, was a figure cloaked in darkness. They said he was incapable of love, that he thrived on fear and power. But he treated me better than my mother did—at least, that's what I told myself. I liked to believe that in his own twisted way, he cared for me, had plans for me that were too grand for me to understand at a young age.

There was an old man, Crest, who took care of me. Loyal to the Dark Lord, Crest was my guardian and protector. He was the one constant in my chaotic life, showing me a kind of rough love that I clung to desperately. Crest raised me, teaching me about the world as best as he could within the constraints of my father’s will.

The first lesson I learned however was my father doing.

I remember the day vividly. I was young, perhaps seven or eight. My father and I were in one of the dark, cold rooms of our mansion. He was lecturing me, as he often did, about power and control.

"Mattheo," he began, his voice a cold, steady hiss. "Do you understand what love is?"

I looked up at him, my small frame trembling slightly. "It's when you care about someone, right?"

He laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Love is a weakness, a flaw in human nature. It makes you vulnerable."

Just then, Crest entered the room. My eyes lit up and I ran to him, seeking the comfort his presence always provided. "Crest!"

The old man smiled at me, his eyes filled with a kind of sad affection.

My father’s gaze turned icy. "Do you respect Crest, Mattheo?"

I nodded vigorously. "I love him."

Voldemort’s expression hardened. "Love is dangerous, Mattheo. It can be used against you. Watch."

He pulled out a wand, and my eyes widened with a mix of fear and fascination. I had always wanted to use one, to feel its power.

"Take it," he ordered, handing me the wand.

I grasped it with trembling hands, looking up at him uncertainly.

"Kill him," he commanded, his voice icy and implacable.

My heart froze. "No, Father, please..."

Crest's eyes widened with fear, but he remained still, resigned to his fate.

"Do it, Mattheo," Voldemort insisted. "Show me you are strong."

I couldn’t move. I couldn't do it. My hands shook violently.

In a swift, merciless motion, my father pointed his own wand at Crest and uttered the curse. "Avada Kedavra."

A flash of green light filled the room, and Crest's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. I screamed and ran to his side, clutching his hand.

The first lesson I learned was to never show my emotions, never reveal my weaknesses. My father knew everyone’s vulnerabilities, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use them against us.

I remember that day, I remember it too well.

As I walked further from our home, the sense of impending doom grew stronger. The shadows seemed darker, the air colder. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, the whispers of darkness growing louder in my mind. Suddenly, Death Eaters began to materialize around me, their presence suffocating and malevolent.

Then he appeared, emerging from the darkness like a specter. Voldemort. My father. His smile was cruel, his eyes gleaming with a twisted kind of pride. "Son," he greeted, his voice a cold, slithering whisper.

I stood my ground, glaring at him, refusing to move. "Aren’t you happy to see your father?" he asked, his tone mocking.

I felt a surge of anger and pain. "Why would I be happy?”

His smile widened, more sinister than before. "Did you not try to find me? Did you not wish for my return?"

"I didn’t want you to return," I spat, the words filled with a defiance that surprised even me.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck me. I looked up to see Bellatrix, my mother, her eyes wild with madness. "You dare speak to your father that way?" she shrieked.

I smiled, blood trickling from my mouth. "What do you care, Mother? You were too busy losing your mind to notice anything else."

Her face contorted with rage, and she raised her hand to strike me again. But before she could, she screamed, her body convulsing. I looked up to see Voldemort holding his wand, a cruel smile on his lips.

"No one lays a hand on my heir," he said, his voice dripping with menace. "Bellatrix, you will remember your place. My son is not to be harmed."

His words were powerful, echoing in the dark night. I closed my eyes, trying to block out her screams, the sound tearing at my soul. "Father, stop," I finally managed, my voice hoarse.

Voldemort looked at me, amusement flickering in his eyes. "And what are you doing out here, my boy, in the countryside? Running away, perhaps?"

I knew he already knew the truth, but I couldn’t let him see it. "I needed some air. I was restless."

"Restless," he repeated, the word dripping with sarcasm. "Or were you trying to escape your responsibilities, your destiny?"

I stood up slowly, trying to gather my strength. "Believe what you want. It doesn’t change anything."

He took a step closer, his gaze piercing. "You think you can hide from me? You think you can live a normal life, away from the darkness that binds us? You are my son, my heir. And you will learn to embrace your destiny, whether you like it or not."

I met his eyes, my own filled with defiance. "I think I can try. I don’t want to be like you."

His laughter was cold, echoing through the night. "You are my son. You cannot escape what you are."

I clenched my fists, the anger and helplessness threatening to overwhelm me. "I can. And I will."

Voldemort’s expression hardened, the amusement gone. "Do not test me, Mattheo. You are my heir. You have a destiny to fulfill."

My father’s presence loomed over me, the tension in the air grew palpable. He studied me with those cold, penetrating eyes, and I knew he was far from done with his probing questions.

tell me about this girl you've been spending so much time with."

I tensed, but kept my expression neutral. "She's no one important."

His eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing at his lips. "No one important? Then why do I sense such... attachment?"

"It's nothing, Father," I lied smoothly. "Just a distraction. Something physical. Nothing more."

His laughter was sharp and mocking. "Oh, Mattheo,do you love her?"

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. "No. I don't love her."

Inside, I felt a pang of guilt and sadness. I loved her more than anything, but I couldn't let him see that.

But I had to lie, had to make him believe it was nothing more than a physical connection. She deserved better than to be dragged into this darkness.

"Just physical?" he mused, his tone laced with derision. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify your weakness?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice steady. "It's only physical."

He stepped closer, his gaze piercing through me. "You think you can fool me?"

"It's just a game, Father. A way to pass the time," I insisted, the lie burning on my tongue.

Voldemort's smile widened, cruel and knowing. "You cannot escape your fate, Mattheo. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise."

I held his gaze, my defiance burning bright despite the fear gnawing at me. "I don’t intend to escape. I’m simply enjoying my life."

His laughter echoed in the dark night, cold and merciless. "Enjoying your life? How quaint. You think you can hide your true feelings from me?"

"I have no true feelings for her," I lied again, the words tasting bitter.

"Well then," he said, his eyes glinting with malice, "if she truly means nothing, it would be of no consequence if she were to... disappear." He paused, letting the threat hang in the air. "In fact, I think it might be a good test of your loyalty."

I fought to keep my face expressionless, to hide the terror clawing at my insides, to act unbothered. "Do as you wish," I replied, my voice steady.

"Bellatrix," Voldemort called, turning to my mother, who was watching with wild eyes. "Go and find this girl. Make sure her end is... memorable."

My mother eyes gleamed with a sick excitement. "Yes, my Lord."

I forced myself to remain still, to show no reaction, even as my heart pounded in my chest.

"Make it painful," Voldemort added, his eyes focusing on me. "I want her to suffer, to know the price of being a distraction."

I could feel the bile rising in my throat, but I kept my face impassive. It was only when Bellatrix turned to leave that the words burst from my lips.

"Don't," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Voldemort turned back to me, his expression one of cold amusement. "What was that?"

His hand gripping my chin tightly. "You are a fool, Mattheo. You have created a weakness for yourself, and now that weakness must be eradicated."

"Father," I said, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me, "you will not lay a hand on her."

He laughed softly, the sound devoid of any warmth. "You think you can order me, boy? This girl must die to teach you a lesson. A lesson to remind you of your responsibilities, of your true nature."

His grip tightened painfully. "You will not put a hand on her," I repeated, my voice firm, my gaze locked with his.

His eyes burned with cold fury, and his lips curled into a sinister smile. "Very well, Mattheo," he said, his voice dripping with malevolent amusement. "Follow me."

I followed him through the darkened corridors of the manor, my heart pounding with each step. My mind raced, trying to anticipate his next move, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to witness.

We entered a dimly lit room, and there, suspended in mid-air, was Charity Burbage, a former professor at Hogwarts. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her pleas for mercy echoed through the room.

"Charity," Voldemort greeted with false courtesy. "I believe you know my son, Mattheo."

Charity's eyes flicked to me, filled with desperation. "Mattheo, please," she pleaded. "Help me."

I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to help her, but I knew the cost of defying Voldemort. He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "This is a lesson for you, this is what happens to those who betray us."

Charity's eyes locked onto mine. "Mattheo," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face, her cries grew louder, more frantic. "Mattheo, please! You can stop this!"

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, but I knew better than to show any sign of weakness.

I felt a surge of helpless rage, my blood boiling with the need to act, to do something, but I remained rooted to the spot. Voldemort raised his wand, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Avada Kedavra," he said softly, almost reverently.

A flash of green light filled the room, and Charity's pleas were silenced forever. Her lifeless body crumpled to the floor, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. Voldemort turned to me, his expression a mask of twisted satisfaction.

"This," he said, gesturing to Charity's body, "is what happens when you allow yourself to be weak. Do you understand, Mattheo?"

I swallowed hard, fighting back the bile that rose in my throat. "Yes, Father," I forced out, my voice hoarse.

He stepped closer, his eyes boring into mine. "You must learn to sever your attachments, to purge yourself of any weakness. Only then will you be truly strong."

"You must prove your loyalty. Now, about this girl of yours. I want you to kill her."

Before I could respond, one of the Death Eaters, snickered and said, "Bet she's a pretty little thing. Will she allow a Death Eater in her bed, or just the heir?"

Rage boiled within me, and before I knew it, I had my wand out. "Crucio!"

His screamed in agony, writhing on the floor. Voldemort watched with a smirk, clearly amused. "Such passion, Mattheo. But your actions only prove that she must die."

Voldemort's gaze hardened, and he turned to another Death Eater. "Bring our guest."

The doors swung open, and I saw Y/N's father being dragged in, his eyes wild with terror.

"Kill him, Mattheo," Voldemort ordered, his eyes glinting with malicious glee.

I had promised Y/N I wouldn’t harm her father, but now, faced with this command, I was torn. "Kill him, Mattheo," Voldemort repeated. "Or the girl dies."

Y/N's father fell to his knees, his voice trembling. "Kill her! Kill her instead, please! I will serve you, my lord. I will be loyal!”

Voldemort approached me, his eyes glittering with a cruel satisfaction. "You see, Mattheo, even the most desperate will turn on those they love to save themselves, even his own father doesn’t think she’s worth saving."

"You can kill her please, you can—"

His pleas were cut short as I cast the killing curse, my wand steady, my resolve unshaken. I felt no regret, no sorrow.

Voldemort’s cruel smile returned. "Well done, my boy. Now, let’s see where your true loyalties lie."

He stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. "Choose, Mattheo. Your precious girl, or your little brother."

My heart twisted in my chest. "What?"

He laughed, the sound cold and hollow. "I’m merely testing you. But make no mistake. Once the girl dies, you will be free, Mattheo. Free from these weaknesses."

I stood there, my mind reeling, trying to hold on to some semblance of control. "You must choose," he continued, his voice relentless. "Do you want to protect her, or do you want to protect yourself and your family, your friends?"

I clenched my fists, meeting Voldemort's cold gaze with defiance.

"Think carefully, my boy. Love is a chain that binds you. Cut it, and you will be stronger. Cut it, and you will be free."

“I would leave her, end things with her, but you just had to leave her out of it”' I said, my voice quivering with suppressed emotion. The words spilled out with a strength I didn't know I had, my heart shattering as I spoke.His expression remained impassive.

"promise me, father, Promise me that you'll leave her out of this. She's innocent, she has nothing to do with any of this. And I swear to end things with her, take my duties and responsibilities, you just have to give me your word, that’s the first time I ask anything from you and would be the last"

His eyes gleamed with triumph. "Very well, Mattheo. Go, end things with her, and return to me. No one shell hurt her, you have my word. But remember, any mistake, and not just the girl dies. You will have to choose someone else to die as punishment for your disobedience. Understand?"

I swallowed my rage, forced myself to nod. "Yes, I understand."

As I left the room, I saw Enzo, my little brother, standing in the hallway. "What are you doing here?" I demanded angrily.

"It’s his duty," Voldemort answered for him, placing a hand on Enzo's shoulder.

I felt a surge of protectiveness and fury, but I hid it. "I will return soon," I said, my voice steady.

Voldemort's eyes bore into mine. "See that you do, Mattheo. See that you do."

I walked away, my mind a storm of emotions, knowing that my every step was being watched, and every decision weighed with life and death.

It was well past midnight when I finally opened the front door. My heart pounded as I walked in, the weight of what I had to do pressing down on me. The moment I saw her, my resolve wavered. Before I could think, my lips crashed onto hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Mattheo,” she whispered against my mouth, but I silenced her with another kiss, more demanding this time. My hands roamed her body, pulling her closer, needing to reassure myself that she was real, that she was here.

"Mattheo, what's going on?" she tried to ask, but I silenced her again, my fingers gripping her hips tightly.

"Just let me have this," I said softly, my voice cracking. The pain in my heart was unbearable.

I bent her over, yanking down her pants, and thrust into her hard and fast. The intensity of my movements was driven by the need to drown out the agony inside me. I couldn't let her see my pain, couldn't let her know how much it was tearing me apart.

“Did something happen, baby?” she managed to gasp out between thrusts, her hands gripping the sheets.

I didn’t answer, just increased my pace, trying to lose myself in the physicality of the moment. The roughness of my touch, the ferocity of my rhythm—it was all I could offer to mask my torment.

“Mattheo, I’m gonna—”

Her scream echoed through the room as she came, her body trembling. I followed moments later, my release silent but powerful, my grip on her tightening as I shuddered.

I pulled out and turned her around, lifting her onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with my earlier roughness. Her eyes were filled with concern and confusion.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” she replied, her heartache evident.

I moved within her slowly, each thrust a silent promise. I wanted to cling to her, to hold her forever, but I knew I had to let go. We reached our climax together, and the wave of pleasure was bittersweet.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly when we were done, her head resting on my chest. I didn’t answer, just held her tighter, my arms a protective cocoon around her. I wished I could tell her the truth, but I couldn’t risk it. I had to protect her.

The next morning, I woke up early and slipped out of bed. I stood on the balcony, smoking a cigarette, trying to steel myself for what I had to do. When she came up behind me, wrapping her arms around me and pressing a kiss to my cheek, it took everything in me not to break down.

"Mattheo," she started, her voice tentative, "please talk to me. What's going on?"

Silence was my only response. I couldn’t risk breaking down, couldn’t risk her seeing the pain I was in.

"Mattheo, please don't shut me out."

I took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh, but said nothing. The wall between us was thicker than ever, and it was killing me.

"Do you not trust me?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You said you love me, and I believe you. But if you don't let me in, how can we face whatever is bothering you?"

I flicked the cigarette butt over the railing, watching it fall before finally turning to face her. Her eyes were filled with tears, and it broke my heart.

His grip on my hand was firm as he led us back into the room. I sank onto the couch, my heart aching with the weight of what I had to do. She moved to sit beside me, her voice soft and pleading. "Hey, baby, please, what is bothering you?"

I remained a statue, my body rigid, my gaze fixed on the floor. I couldn't bear to look at her.

"We are not going anywhere," I said flatly, cutting her off. The coldness in my voice was a defense mechanism, a way to protect her.

Panic clawed at her throat. "Okay, we can stay home," she stammered, desperately searching for anything to break the suffocating silence.

I stood up abruptly, startling her. I hated doing this, hated the pain I was causing her, but I couldn't risk her life. "Don't you get it?" I spat, my voice laced with bitterness. "This was never supposed to be serious. It was fun, a distraction, but nothing more."

Her breath hitched. "Distraction?"

"But... but I..." she stammered, the words catching in her throat.

"You what, Y/N?" I scoffed, the sound harsh. "Did you think being with me was some grand fairytale? You know who I am, Y/N. There's a legacy to uphold, a family to consider. Did you think you, with your… your ordinary life, could ever fit into that?"

"But… we built a beautiful life together. We talked about our future," she said, her voice choked with tears.

"Future? Y/N, you left your life for me. Your family, your friends, everything. Did you really think I'd just abandon everything I have, my legacy, for… for you?"

"I… I never asked you to abandon anything," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

"But you did," I countered. "You disrupted the plan. You made me question everything."

"But I love you," she whispered, the words fragile and broken. "I gave up everything for you."

"Love? Don't be ridiculous. You were just young and naive, Y/N. You thought escaping your family drama meant finding some happily ever after. This isn't some storybook.”

Her pain was palpable, and it tore me apart. "Did you ever love me, Mattheo? Or was it just another lie?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I met her gaze, forced my eyes to look at her. "No," I said, the word sharp and like a knife to my heart. "I liked you, Y/N. I enjoyed the… distraction. But this? This isn't love."

Her tears fell uncontrollably as she sank onto the couch. I wanted to wipe them away, to hold her and tell her the truth, but I couldn't. I had to protect her, even if it meant breaking her heart.

"I'll leave," I said. "You can stay here."

I grabbed my phone and keys, my movements mechanical. I walked towards the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing in the room. As the final echo died down, I felt a piece of my heart shatter.

I hated myself for doing this, for hurting her. But I couldn't risk her life. I couldn't let her become another pawn in my father's game. And so, I walked away, leaving a part of my soul behind with her.

Days passed in a blur of darkness and duty. Each moment without Y/N felt like a knife twisting deeper into my soul. I couldn’t risk going back to her, couldn’t show any sign of weakness. I had to prove to my father that it was over, that she no longer held any power over me. But the truth was, life without her was a torment I could barely endure.

My father spoke often of power and darkness, of the strength that came from severing emotional ties. His lessons were cruel, I tried to focus on the tasks at hand, to immerse myself in the dark teachings of my father, but every thought inevitably led back to her. Y/N. The name echoed in my mind like a forbidden incantation, a ghost haunting my every waking moment.

my father called us together. Enzo stood beside me, his face a mask of grim determination. Voldemort’s voice was low, commanding. "Enzo, you will lead this mission. I need you to retrieve a very special item from the Ministry."

Enzo’s eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

I felt a surge of protectiveness. "Father, let me do it."

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. "Are you questioning my orders, Mattheo?"

Before I could respond, Enzo placed a hand on my arm. "Don’t, Mattheo."

Another Death Eater sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Listen to your bastard brother, heir."

The words ignited a fire within me. I turned to face him, my wand already in hand. "Say that again."

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. "Why? Enzo is a bastard from a whore. Bellatrix is nothing but a—"

"Then by your logic," I interrupted, my voice cold and dangerous, "I’m a bastard too. So call me that. Go on."

The room went silent. The Death Eater’s smirk faltered, but he pressed on. "You’re—"

"Crucio!" I shouted, and the man collapsed, writhing in agony. I held the spell, watching as he screamed, my rage boiling over.

Theodore, Draco, and Blaise watched, their expressions a mix of shock and approval. Enzo whispered urgently, "Mattheo, stop."

But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I intensified the curse, the man’s screams echoing off the walls. Another Death Eater stepped forward, trying to intervene, but I cast another Cruciatus Curse, sending him to the floor beside the first.

"You see that, Father?" I said, my voice shaking with fury. "I’m really your son after all."

Voldemort’s lips curled into a proud smile.

I left the room, my heart pounding, my mind a storm of conflicting emotions. I found myself in my room, my hand on the wall, pressing so hard that it started to bleed. I slid down to the ground, the pain a welcome distraction from the torment in my soul.

Darkness was consuming me, gnawing away at what little light I had left. I was becoming the very thing I despised, a creature of the shadows, a pawn of my father. Each day, I felt myself slipping further into the abyss, the line between right and wrong blurring until it was almost indistinguishable.

I found Luna Lovegood in one of the cold, damp cells of the dungeons. Her ethereal calmness was a stark contrast to the despair around her. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice harsher than I intended.

"They took me because I know too much," she said simply, her wide eyes unafraid, I shook my head to her to shut up.

She was here because he believed her father’s magazine might contain hidden messages or useful information for the Order of the Phoenix.

"She doesn't know anything, Father. I assure you," I said, turning to Voldemort.

He refused to free her. "At least don’t treat her like a hostage," I pleaded. With a reluctant nod from him, I took Luna to a more comfortable room.

"Thank you," she said softly, sitting down on the bed.

As I turned to leave, she spoke again. "They say she hasn’t left home for days."

I froze. "What?"

"The one you're thinking about," Luna continued, her voice gentle. "A magical creature only I can see told me. They say Y/N hasn’t left the house. She still thinks you’re coming back. She feels miserable, she is in so much pain."

I clenched my fists, trying to suppress the rage boiling inside me. "So are you, Mattheo," Luna added quietly.

I left the room, the anger and guilt eating at me. The thought of Y/N in pain, waiting for me, tore at my soul. I wanted to let the whole world burn for what it was doing to her. I wanted to go to her, to tell her I had lied, that I had never loved anything as I loved her. But I couldn’t.

As I stalked through the dark hallway my father appeared. His cold eyes assessed me, and I steeled myself against his scrutiny.

"Feeling conflicted, my boy?" Voldemort asked, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

I met his gaze, trying to appear strong. "I know my duty," I said flatly.

He leaned in, his voice a sinister whisper. "Good. It would be unfortunate if you decided to go back to old distractions. There are consequences, you know, for losing focus."

His words were a veiled threat, a reminder of what he could do to Y/N if I faltered. I nodded, the cold dread settling in my stomach. "I understand, Father."

"Remember, Mattheo," he said, straightening up. "Power and loyalty are what matter. Attachments are weaknesses."

I watched him walk away, my heart heavy with the weight of my choices. The darkness was consuming me, and I didn’t know how much longer I could resist it.

The day passes in a haze of anger and I leaned against the cold stone wall, watching the chaos unfold. The room was thick with tension and suspicion as Death Eaters hurled accusations at each other.

Whispers of a shadow, an elusive killer who moved unseen, had spread fear among them. They couldn't figure out who he was or where he came from. He was a ghost, a phantom that slipped through their fingers, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake.

"This is your fault, Dolohov!" Mother snarled, her wild eyes blazing with fury. "If you had secured the perimeter, this wouldn't be happening!"

"Don't be absurd, Bellatrix," Dolohov shot back, his wand raised defensively. "Your incompetence is what's allowing this to happen. If you had been more vigilant—"

"Silence!"

Father’s voice cut through the din like a knife, freezing everyone in their tracks. The Dark Lord's eyes swept the room, his face a mask of cold rage. The tension was palpable as he raised his wand and pointed it at one of his most trusted lieutenants, Thorne.

Thorne, a tall, gaunt man with a face as sharp as his intellect, met Voldemort's gaze with a mix of shock and terror. "My Lord, I—"

"Avada Kedavra."

The flash of green light illuminated the chamber for a split second, and then Thorne crumpled to the ground, lifeless. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched one of Voldemort's most trusted men die so easily, so unceremoniously. The room was silent, the only sound the crackling of the torches on the walls.

My father’s gaze shifted, meeting mine. I held his stare, my expression carefully neutral, unbothered by the carnage.

"Mattheo," he said, his voice a low hiss. "What is your opinion on this shadow? Who is he?"

I shrugged, feigning indifference. "You should focus on who he isn't, Father."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

I let my eyes drift over the room, taking in the faces of the remaining Death Eaters.

"I think the traitor is someone who knows us well, someone who can anticipate our moves. It might be wise to look closer to home," I said, my voice laced with subtle insinuation. "Perhaps even among those we trust the most."

A murmur of unease spread through the room as they cast suspicious glances at each other.

My father studied me, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He knew I was toying with him, but he couldn't quite place the blame.

"If that's all, Father, I have matters to attend to," I said, pushing off the wall. I gave a small bow, excusing myself. "I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

As I walked away, the weight of my secret plan settled on my shoulders. It was I who was killing the Death Eaters, removing them one by one. To keep her safe, I needed to weaken my father, and to do that, I had to dismantle his support system. Only a fool would face Voldemort head-on, and I am no fool.

As I left the room, the shadows seemed to close in around me, but I welcomed them. They were my allies, my cover. And soon, they would be the downfall of the Dark Lord himself.

Days passed but I couldn't escape it. Her voice, her pain, it haunted me. The bed was cold and empty without her warmth, and I felt her absence like a physical wound. Every second without her was torture, but I had to stay away. I had to protect her from the darkness I had become entangled in. But knowing she was suffering because of me was unbearable.

Someone knocked hard on my door, breaking through my thoughts. I opened it to find Luna, her usually serene demeanor shattered. She was trembling, speaking in disjointed sentences that barely made sense. I took her gently by the shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"Luna, breathe. What's wrong?" I asked urgently, my voice betraying my own turmoil.

"she’s killing myself slowly," she blurted out, her eyes wide with desperation. "You need to stop it. It's already too late."

Without another word, I stormed out of the room, fury boiling inside me. I reached my father's chamber and nearly tore the door off its hinges as I entered. "You gave your word you wouldn’t do anything to her!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the stone walls.

Voldemort turned to me, his expression calm, almost amused. "It must be over by now," he said with a cold smile. "You'll thank me."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, my heart racing.

"I freed you," he said simply, his words cutting through me like a blade.

Realization hit me like a blow to the chest. I turned and ran, my mind racing as fast as my feet. I had to get to her.

As I tore through the hallways of the manor, the walls blurred around me. My mind was singularly focused on Y/N. I reached the main hall, and in a fit of rage and desperation.

I raised my wand."Incendio!" Flames erupted around me, spreading quickly through the manor. The heat was intense, the fire consuming everything in its path. I didn't care. Let it burn. Let it all burn.

I burst out of the castle, the cold night air hitting my face as I Apparated as close as I could to our house. My heart pounded in my chest as I sprinted the rest of the way, every step bringing me closer to her.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I finally reached the house, my hands shaking as I opened the door. "Y/N!" I called out, my voice desperate. "Y/N, where are you?"

The house was eerily silent, the weight of her absence suffocating. A scream come from our room and I run to it, she fell, the floor rushing up to meet her. But just before unconsciousness claimed her, I caught her, gripping her body, arresting her fall.

“Y/N!” I shouted, my voice urgent and laced with panic. Her vision was blurry, and she blinked, disoriented and delirious.

“What have you done, love?” I asked, my voice ragged with worry. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t form. The

“It hurts so much,” she managed to gasp, tears mixing with the blood trickling down her nose.

“I know, baby, I know,” I murmured. “Just tell me, please, what have you done?”

“I just wanted it to stop,” she rasped, pointing weakly at her heart, its every beat a thrumming ache. “It hurt so much.” Her gaze drifted beyond my shoulder.

“He… he’s back?” Her voice was a rasp, barely audible, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth.

“Shh, love, don’t try to talk,” I soothed, my grip tightening protectively around her. “What have you done to her?” I turned to my father.

“Just showed her a way to numb the pain,”

she reached for my hand, “Don’t be afraid, love,” I murmured into her hair.

“It wasn’t the deal!” I said, “I told you I would leave her, I would leave everything, but you just had to leave her out of it!”

“I’m helping you, child,” my father said, his voice devoid of emotion. “You pushed her away, but you love her. That cannot happen. You need to get rid of your weakness.”

“Shut up!” I said, my eyes blazing. “Shut the fuck up. You leave her out of this!” She choked on a fresh wave of blood. A terrible realization dawned on me – she was dying.

“You’re not dying,” I whispered fiercely, "You’re not dying, baby. I won’t allow it.”

“It’s okay,” she rasped, her voice barely audible.

“It’s not!”

“Can you say it like you used to? Can you tell me that you love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I want to hear you say it one last time.”.

“No, because you are not dying,” I insisted, turning my blazing gaze back to my father. “Save her, do something and save her or I swear, I won’t just leave you. I will make sure to ruin you, ruin everything you built, kill you for good this time.”

“Mattheo,” she whispered, her voice weak but determined. I looked down at her.

“You’re not dying,” I repeated.

“Look at me, love,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “Keep your eyes on me. Keep those beautiful eyes on me, baby.”

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing away her tear. “You’re the love of my life, and I love you more than life itself,” I declared, my voice thick with emotion.

A weak smile touched her lips. Before She closed her eyes.

"Y/N?" I called softly.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[catbread0]

hi can you write sebastian michaelis x reader first kiss, especially with sebastian being confused by having a crush and not understanding the feelings (or how his human body is reacting in ways he doesnt understand bc he’s an “emotionless” demon)

thank you :]

Sebastian Michaelis x Fem Reader

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy the story! Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )��

Words: 1,208

Fluff

Black Butler Masterlist

Emotions

Your young master, Ciel Phantomhive, had left to attend Weston College to uncover why students have gone missing. With that, you were left behind due to the school being an all-boys public school, meaning while Sebastian was gone, you were now in charge of making sure the Manor wouldn't become rubble due to your three other colleagues. There were a few close calls, but you would manage to salvage it by the end of the day.

It was the second of June, and you heard knocks from the front door. It was the postman. He had given you a letter meant for you. It was from Sebastian. He had given you the task of buying some laxatives and told you to wear an elegant dress to the open ceremony that would take place tomorrow and that he would send a carriage to take you to Weston College.

You were confused about how you would be allowed into the opening ceremony due to only immediate family members being allowed to attend. It was only after the cricket tournament began that maids and butlers were able to enter. 

You decided to run the errands that Sebastian assigned you, buying laxatives, an elegant dress that flatters your looks but was also a shade of blue to represent your young master, and a few pieces of jewelry that go well with your dress.

Once you returned, you went immediately to the maid's headquarters and put your dress on a mannequin so it didn't get wrinkles. Mey-Rin had entered the room since you shared it, wanting to ask for help but was shocked to see the dress. 

“(Y/n) are you planning on going somewhere tomorrow?” she asked with a curious tone. 

You nodded and explained that Sebastian had sent a letter telling you that you would be attending the opening ceremony tomorrow. Mey-Rin was excited for you and offered to help you with your hair tomorrow. You, of course, accepted her kind gesture before helping around the Manor again,

It was now the third of June, the day of the open ceremony, and it was nearing dark. You were getting ready, Mey-Rin had helped you put on your corset and dress, and she was doing a few more touches to your hair. You made sure you had everything, including the laxatives that Sebastian asked you to buy. Baldroy, Finnian, and Mey-Rin promised you that they wouldn't make a mess in the Manor while you were gone, and with that, you get into the carriage that will take you to Weston College.

You’ve arrived at the Weston College campus, and you went to where the ceremony was being held. You waited in line until it was your turn to be checked if you were allowed to enter.

“What’s your name ma’am?”

“(Y/n) (L/n)”

The man checked the clipboard and allowed you to enter. As you entered, you were looking around the entire room. It was your first time setting foot and being able to see the opening ceremony for yourself. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and jumped a bit from the sudden contact. You looked to see who it was, and it was Sebastian with that smirk on his face.

“It’s wonderful to see you again (Y/n), I must say that dress enhances your beauty.”

You were about to reply when you realized the young master was nowhere to be seen. “Where is the young master?”

That's when you heard someone clear their throat, it was Master Agares, and he had begun his speech, and soon the houses revealed their chosen athletes. 

After Green Lion House, Scarlet Fox House, and Violet Wolf House showed their athletes, you saw white birds flying above, and that's when Sapphire Owl House entered, and you saw your young master. You couldn't help but giggle a little when you saw your young master's uneasy face.

After Master Agares finished his speech and tripped on a few stairs, everyone was lively talking to one another. You were about to walk over to your young master but it seemed as if he was surrounded by so many people in one place. You saw that Sebastian was about to walk away when a strong grip on his shoulder stopped him. It was Lady Scotney. She scolded Sebastian for his haircut choice for an educator. 

Elizabeth soon noticed both you and Sebastian and gasped. Soon, her father and older brother also noticed. However, they didn't recognize it was Sebastian or you and asked if you both were acquainted with Lady Scotney. Thankfully, Elizabeth whispered to them the situation. 

However, due to Elizabeth's gasp earlier, it caught a few people's attention, and some of them included the House Prefects. Curiosity had gotten the better of them, and they went to where you were all gathered.

“Master Michaelis, may I ask, but who is this maiden?” The prefect of the Scarlet Fox House asked.

You never asked, but if only immediate family could enter, then how were you able to enter? Sebastian chuckled before answering, “She's my lovely wife.”

You could see the shocked faces of the students, including Ciel. You three knew it was a lie, but at least now you know how you gain access to enter. 

A few other students overheard and started asking questions.

“How long have you been married?”  

“Why have you never worn your wedding ring?”

“Why are you both not wearing your wedding rings?”

The more the curiosity got the students, the more they started asking questions about your ‘marriage’. It wasn't looking good for you and Sebastian, as they kept asking the more suspicious they were getting. This could ruin the young master's mission if they were to find out. As you were about to answer the student’s questions, you felt a hand wrap around your waist and a lip press against yours. 

You see, it's Sebastian who’s kissing you, and you both separate.

“If you don't believe that she is my wife, you may take that as proof, but believe me when I say she is more than I could ever ask for in a wife.”

After some time, the ceremony dead down, you give Sebastian the laxatives, and you leave in the carriage to bring you back to the Manor.

After you left, Sebastian hid the laxatives inside his cloak and returned to his office on campus. While preparing everything for tomorrow, he felt an emotion of… absence? Sebastian was confused by this. He was a demon, and he shouldn’t feel emotions, especially for a human. 

During the cricket tournament, he would sneak glances at you while you sat with the rest of the servants. After he and the young master figured out the reason for the student’s disappearances, they returned to the Manor and felt a bit joyful that he could see you again.

While you were at the Funtom Company Perfume store, you loved the scent of the new Lily of the Valley perfume, Sebastian saw this and decided to buy the perfume for you. He couldn’t help but have a genuine smile when you started thanking him and when you looked so happy at the perfume.

Maybe feeling these ‘human emotions’ isn't so bad after all.

~Lilly's

[suashii]

you don’t expect to see xavier’s slumped figure, head leaning against the metal pole beside his seat, when the subway doors open. the car is nearly empty, most of linkon city having already retired for the night.

the unoccupied spot on the bench beside him is calling your name.

even in the heavy boots of your uniform, your approach is quiet and stealthy. you don’t make any noise as you take your seat and you’re careful to keep a safe distance between the two of you.

he always looks so peaceful when he sleeps, light eyelashes brushing the tops of his cheeks and his arms crossed loosely at his chest.

the sight of him sleeping makes you reconsider your initial plan of playfully scaring him awake. while you ponder over being mischievous and simply letting him rest, your hand finds its way to your pocket to pull out your phone.

this is a picture you can’t pass up taking.

just as your thumb hovers over the shutter button, xavier’s relaxed voice, heavy with drowsiness, cuts through the still air. “what are you doing?”

you jump a bit at the unexpected question and the jerk is enough to make to capture a blurry photo of the man who is not sleeping.

“oh my god,” you say under your breath, though, the words are audible in the quiet subway car as you tuck your phone away. “you scared me.”

finally, xavier’s eyes flutter open, ocean blue irises meeting yours. he lifts his head up and groans as he stretches as though he’s been in that position for a while. it makes you wonder how long he’s been on the train. through a yawn, he tells you, “guess i stole your thunder, then.”

you pout at the fact that, even in his exhausted state, he was able to tell that you were trying to scare him. it looks like he’s given up on acting panicked when you try to catch him by surprise. as you think about ways you could actually startle the man, you realize something.

“wait, how could you tell it was me? your eyes were closed.”

and, as if it’s the most normal thing to say, xavier reveals, “i recognized your perfume. it smells good.”

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

they r compeeting,,,,, for ur HEART

ive been sitting on this idea for the pawn au for so long n last night i was asked to make some fluff of the Angst Supreme au so uh. this is way way lower effort than it should be but at least its smthn ig skjdfhsdjkfhsdf

i forget who it was who coined the term 'gigachad Eclipse' on my blog but fam i think abt u and ur brilliant brain every day. ur a gift to this world

[luffyvace]

Undertaker wants to Court you! ~(Headcanons)~

Can’t wait for the public school arc who’s with me?!

this dude is so silly 🗿 enjoy some hcs of this ridiculous little man

Undertaker is funny. He uses that to his advantage when courting. Well, it actually depends on what type of humor you have- most of his are usually those jokes that are kinda funny but at the same time your like ‘That’s outta pocket! 🤦‍♀️😑😂’ yk?

he always wants to hear jokes. He asks you randomly and no matter what type he laughs at them. Rude humor? Hilarious! Dad jokes? That one really tickled his fancy! 😂 why did the chicken cross the road?? To get to the other side? 🤣🤣💥

now usually I feel he has a specific sense of humor but with you everything’s just kinda funny. It’s that moment when your with someone who you can laugh at the most unfunniest stuff ever and still be cackling at it anyway 😭💕

he’s always telling them as well. Might I say, at the worst times 😏 you just watched someone run over a stray animal? Oh he’s got a joke for that hear him out- LIKE BRO 😭⁉️

HES THE TYPE OF GUY WHO MAKE YOU LAUGH BEFORE EVEN TELLING YOU THE JOKE BECAUSE YOU KNOW ITS GONNA BE STUPID 👍

Let’s also talk about hiiiis…! weird side! (I’m saying ‘side’ like he’s isn’t always weird..) This is pretty much him just being a creep? Ish? Like that scene where he was in the barrel licking salt…🤨 or how he’s always in coffins (which tbh seems more normal for a grim reaper but still..) either way this dudes’ real weird and he doesn’t tone it down, even around you despite the fact that it may or may not (you decide) push you away

He’s a very mysterious dude, so how ever you met him I guarantee it was eerie and somewhat strange. Therefore you were likely intrigued by him, so when you went on your first date it was, well, very interesting! There’s so many layers to unravel with this guy! Ngl even now you’ve only semi unraveled this incomprehensible man but at the least you do learn more as you get to know him :P

his past is….complicated is an understatement- gimme a new word.

literally no one but him knows his full past all the way up to this very day. Looks like no one has stuck around long enough! Since you will I guess you’ll be the first to figure it out! ;)

now I’ll say this, he won’t sit down and just tell you everything, no. That won’t be any fun! 😄 you’ll have to have the intelligent to sit down and decode it piece by piece with the tidbits of information he gives you randomly. Yes! It’s going to be comical seeing you try and put this whole thing-a-ba-jig together! (^_−)−☆ 🤣

his nonjudgmental yet opinionated personality is scary if you don’t like folk who come off too strong. Or if your sensitive- 😄 he’s a ‘tell-it-like-it-is-and-I-don’t-give-a-ship’ type of guy. Buuuut! If your similar to him in that sense you’ll probably understand him a lot more. Him being nonjudgemental is perfect for peeps of all types so that’s a plus!! 💗

ranting about his fascination with humans during your dates comes with the package! ☝️He just does, it’s always one of his topics, and ngl it’s nothing boring either, he’s got quite a few stories to tell with even more jokes in between, which is sure to make for a lovely date <3 plus at some point all species in black butler experienced being a human, and idk about y’all but the study of human nature, psychology and how the brain works is a very interesting thing for me! I’d definitely be able to keep a conversation like that up for some time, me personally.

He puts up a front of a funny weird guy when there’s more to him if you read between the lines. Which, don’t get me wrong that certainly is a part of the real him, he just makes sure to highlight it so you don’t look at the rest 😃👌

he’s a real creepy fellow..even towards you 😭 (on purpose) and whether he’s trying to court you or not there’s no escaping it- if it starts to push you away he’ll find a way to incorporate laughter into it to make it more appealing, but no, he won’t change his ways 😭

WHY DOESN’T HE WASH HIS HAIRRRR

(yes it’s canon 😞)

you force him to wash his hair 😘💋 pls he needs it. or at least do it with him so it’s more fun. It’ll probably be easier to convince him that way

Time to talk about his work as a grim reaper!!! :3 (retired anyway) if you are reaper you get to follow each other around doing tasks! human? You both go your separate ways to work, whatever that may be. A demon? The same as a human really! Just this time you might have a contract with somebody. Buttttt!! A perk of all three is getting to work in the funeral parlor with him ;3 it’s a good disguise if your a demon/reaper and also some good quality time for you and your reaper 😘 (i mean, I hope you don’t mind morbid stuff cuz he’s a mortician after all 😅)

his little Russian roulette with the phantomhives 🕺 (LOL) no seriously I have no clue what type of relationship he has with them besides the fact that he serves them for the price of top notch laughter 🧑‍🍳💋 but you might! I’d say he’s more willing to let you in then anyone if he’s trying to court you! That obviously means he wants to trust you with his heart! So yeah! You likely know a thing or two—more about Ciel than Vincent but any info will do at this point 😭 it’s a start right? 🤷‍♀️

whenever Ciel comes over you get to witness him or Sebastian try to make undertaker laugh, it’s not like they can kick you out, you work there! Perks 😏 You can pretty much tell the one time Ciel made him laugh himself it was just a whole bunch of tomfoolery 😂 (why did it take so long⁉️😭) Sebastian is also able to make undertaker laugh really hard immediately so I wonder what he does 🤪 guess you’ll get to see! 😋

undertaker opening up to you is a process that requires patience. And don’t be pushy!! I mean this for your sake, by the way. You’ll drive yourself crazy since you’ll never get an answer that’s not riddles or straight up jokes. 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

yeah overall his way of courting is really strange but when it comes to making things official he’s poetically blunt. The type of blunt where you have to process for a second like ‘wait what does that mean- oh. OH-’

Anyway I’m gonna talk about the actual dates now cuz I’ve pretty much just been mentioning the madness that comes with it this entire time :3 and yes as I said that’s a way of courting to him. He’s weird and blunt but doesn’t wanna do things the traditional way. So getting you involved in his antics is his way of saying ‘hey i like ya and I want ya to stick around’. And jokes. HAHAHAH 😂

dates with undertaker normally consists of tea, jokes, human psychology and gossip 🗿 ever since I saw ciel in wonderland I couldn’t get over the fact that undertaker was at a tea party and now I headcanons him to like tea LOLOLOL! I mean I know that’s how the plot goes in the actual slice movie and he was just playing the role of the character but, think about it—don’t it kinda fit???? Like?? Okok Hear me out hear me out- imagine sipping on some tea with Undertaker and gossiping on the latest drama from the underworld, ‘I heard a rare case is happening where blah blah blah *giggle* *giggle* chatter chatter..’ ETC! like idk how to explain it but do you see the vision???

I can also see him doing that dramatic anime thing where they sip they’re drink majestically then say something intelligent sounding (☝️🤓) (about psychology, for him) as the wind blows 😂😂 YK? LOLL even worse if your in a outside background and his eyes shows (cuz the character who never shows they’re eyes always show them when they get serious 🤣)

i love how shameless this guy is

why don’t we know this guys’ real name⁉️ Can’t even give him a nickname because ‘undertaker’ isn’t nickname material!! What am I supposed to call him???? Taker’ ⁉️😭🗿

ENJOY @doudouma HERE’S YOUR SURPRISE~ 🤗

[morphodae]

“My Beloved”🪻 | Gregory Violet x Reader short oneshot | (Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji)

cw: none, fluff

A breeze blows by, an inadvertent shiver wracks your body against your wishes. You grit your teeth, cursing the cold winds of England on today of all days.

The sensation of a hood and fabric being placed on your head startles you. Peering to the left, you see Gregory staring at you expectantly as he finishes covering you with his cloak.

“You look cold. Here, wear it.”

It was supposed to be a nice picnic; one where you and Gregory could lounge together under overcast skies in blissful silence, eat, and have a mini drawing contest. However, the weather had different ideas when the temperature dropped drastically and abruptly.

You notice Gregory doesn’t seem to be shivering as you are and after confirming that he, in fact, doesn’t also need a warm cloak or blanket, you relax with a frustrated sigh.

“So much for our plans today. I’m sorry they got ruined.”

Gregory blinks; violet hues observe you. “I don’t think it ‘got ruined.’ Weather happens,” he deadpans. He closes his sketchbook and packs his supplies, rising from the grass and offering a thin, outstretched hand to you. “Let’s go inside before you catch a cold.”

“Me? What about you?”

“I prefer the cold and dark days. It’s calming. I’ll be fine in this sort of weather.”

“… then why not stay out?”

“As I said: it’s best you not catch a cold.”

You take his hand and lift yourself from the ground, brushing stray strands of grass from yourself and holding your painting supplies under your other arm.

“There’s no reason we cannot finish this indoors where the wind won’t blow hair into my eyes or scatter our things.” Gregory still hasn’t let go of your hand and as the two of you approach his manor, you make a point to address it.

“Still holding my hand?” You ask cheekily. Gregory is in front of you, unlocking the door. But even with his posture slightly huddled, the creeping vermillion on his cheeks and tip of his ear is unmistakable.

“I enjoy it.” After a moment of silence, he continues. “Do… you enjoy holding hands?”

You nod. “I do.”

“Then… let’s continue to inside… if that’s alright with you?”

You answer with an affirmative and the two of you huddle near his fireplace and resume your art date. Every now and again your free hands will touch or link pinky fingers until Gregory becomes bold and silently, yet gently, grabs your hand to place in his. His thumb would rub comforting circles on the top of your hand which makes your heart leap.

He still hasn’t asked for his cloak back nor have you felt the need to remove it even with the two of you before the heat of the fire indoors.

A blush forms on Gregory’s face before he glances at you once more. “Thank you for spending time with me.”

“Of course, dearest. I always enjoy spending time with you.” Your smile as you say this seems all-too-blinding despite Gregory not looking directly at you. The blush on his face darkens and he finally faces you with a flustered expression.

“Ah,” he mumbles, the struggle to maintain eye contact with you is difficult but he still tries, “that… doesn’t sound terrible to call me.”

“I’m glad. Am I moving too fast?”

Your concern for his comfort levels were always endearing. “No,” he shakes his head lightly, “I do not mind. Would it be alright if I call you with a mutually endearing name?”

You giggle, the sound sends butterflies to hi stomach. “Of course.”

Gregory inhales sharply before making eye contact with you. His smile is soft, genuine, and full of affection. “Then… do try and take better care of yourself in colder weather… my beloved.”

It was always like Gregory to worry about those he holds dear to him and it was something you always found to be incredibly charming and sweet. “I will,” you smile, “thank you for looking out for me.”

His expression turns a bit more somber as he regards you with a more serious countenance. “I will always look out for you. Your well-being is important.”

The two of you continue the night in serenity. Your drawings soon conclude and the two of you wind up falling asleep on the plush rug in front of the fireplace together. A servant comes alone at one point and spots the two of you; her voice ready to lightly scold before she sees the peaceful scene before her. With a smile, she exits the room and informs other Violet staff members not to disturb you for a while.

Even in slumber, Gregory’s hand still hasn’t left yours nor does he feel the need to let go anytime soon.

[vante1920pm]

Can I have Gregory Violet jealousy hcs? 🌚

──;; 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ★☆

★ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: I've only watched the season today so it's gonna be ooc 😭 but I had this sudden boost of motivation so I hope you like it !! :)

◎ | black butler masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

☆ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: jealousy headcanons for my favorite prefect <3

☆ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: gregory violet/gn!reader

☆ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: probably ooc, mostly fluff, little bit of violence mentioned

-ㅤㅤ before dating

You didn't notice him before, but he most definitely noticed you immediately.

He was fascinated by you when he first laid his eyes on you. You were different than the others, he didn't exactly know why but he had this strange feeling in his chest when you locked eyes once.

He took his time observing you before you even talked. He found everything you do interesting and wanted to know more and more. But he also saw the way you interacted with others.

On one hand he was glad that you were so social, so he wouldn't have to do much except to make you notice him. But on the other hand, he had this feeling of disgusting jealousy when someone would touch your shoulder slightly or hug you goodbye. He wanted to do that too but also more. He wanted you for himself.

He did sketches of you that he would stare at before he goes to sleep, so he would have the chance to see you in his dreams. He also wrote letters to you that he never sent, because he described how he wanted to hurt everyone you were friends with and also your family. But he would make sure you never find them.

He was jealous that they could see your beautiful face everyday and he had to wait hours to days to get a glimpse of you.

He wasn't even trying it, but one evening, when you were sitting outside, he hid behind a tree and sketched you doing your homework. You noticed his hunched figure behind the tree, looking down on what he held in his hands. So you decided to approach him.

Well, from there on everything happened on its own and you got closer, until you confessed to him.

-ㅤㅤ while dating

Since you got into a relationship, his jealousy decreased as he now had you. But there were still moments of insecurities when some pretty person took your attention away from him.

You always noticed his mood going lower when you weren't focusing on him so you always made sure that he knew that no one compared to him, in your opinion at least.

Your reassuring words always made him feel calmer and relieved, he was definitely still jealous but it was bearable for him.

© 2024, vante1920pm

[kittyfuckincheshire]

📺WORK SHENANIGANS📺vox x reader

18+ minors please don't interact!!!

CW: oral,cunnillings,slightly dubious consent(?),work stuff,sharp claws

____

You set down the hairbrush on the marble countertop and look yourself over in the mirror.you were in a fancy dressing room, getting ready for a special interview with the 6_6 news!!!

You had gotten accepted for the 6_6 news apprentice program awhile ago,when the letter came in you were ecstatic, immediately packing up your belongings as it said in the letter.According to it you were being granted a free room in what was called (the Vee tower).

But that was all in the past.now,you had worked your way up to being chosen to explain today's weather.it may not seem like a lot to a normal sinner.but to you it was exhilarating being able to do something important for once.

You applied a generous amount of lipstick/balm and stepped back to fix any outfit imperfections.you decided to just wear a regular uniform,a short skirt and a tight blouse ordered by vox of course.

You nodded to yourself in the mirror confidently before opening the door and walking out, you turned the gold colored door knob and are greeted with the long hallway that leads to the news room. It was bustling with soulless sinners working for the various overlords staying in the big tower.you squeezed through the crowed room barely making it out the room.

You take a long sigh and slouch a bit,immediately perking up to look around the room and to partly not show weakness.

It was a room with a greenscrean back drop,a counter,a teleprompter ,etc everything just like a normal news stage on earth.

You look around to see no Katie kill joy and no tom trench around, only empty seats and by standards.

Where's Katie and tom?asking no one in particular just hopping to get a answer from someone.

Called in sick last minute,that's why we need you to do the weather, a demon leaning on a teleprompter said scrolling through their phone sounding like he was annoyed by your presence.

You grumbled taking your seat behind the news counter, rolling your eyes, if the others wanted to have attitudes then you could dish it out to.

You look up a timer splayed on another teleprompter,above on the ceiling read 3 MINUTES ,which you guessed ment the cameras should start rolling in 3 minutes.

You rest your chin in one of your hands and stared at nothing, beginning to day dream about making it big and being the next Katie kill joy.

You're quickly snapped out of your thoughts as sharp pricks are felt at the tops of your thighs.You want to gasp, but you hold it in as you lean back to look under the desk.

A glowing teal screen looking back at you,with a sharp tooth grin. VOX.you're employer that you have come to have a more than co-worker type relationship with.

On multiple occasions you'd be the main target to take his pent up stress out on,finding yourself pushed up against an aquarium wall or even dangling of the Vees tower balcony as your holes were ravaged. But it wasn't like you didn't get off by the rough treatment too.

His red eyes bore into yours as you made eye contact,he was on his knees under the desk looking at you hungrily.

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die right at this point,you couldn't say anything to make him move because of all the people there,so you had to deal with it,not that you didn't think it wasn't kinda hot...

You snap you're self back into reality to look up and see 1 MINUTE on the timer instead of 3,Shit.you looked to your desk and scrambled around until you found a drawer under it,but vox was already rummaging through it and handed you a stack of papers with a devious smirk.

You take the papers and his claws lightly graze your finger tips, which sends a shutter down your back.

You straighten up as you read over the script,flipping through the pages to get to the most important bits before a voice was heard shouting through the studio.

"ALRIGHT WERE GOING LIVE IN 10" GET FUCK'IN READY"

the demon screeches at the crew and they all scurry around the studio like rats trying to get everything as instructed for their superiors.

The camera ticked a couple of times before it started rolling live.you shuffled your papers around before turning to the camera with a professional smile.

Vox vibrated under the desk, seemingly chuckling at you trying to be 'professional' for the audience.His eyes kissed as he caressed the insides of your thighs the sharpness making white marks,but not enough to cut.he pushed up your skirt before forcefully opening your legs to gawk at his prize.the thin black colored panties being the only thing that kept him from you.

"hello and good morning pentagram city"!,a lovely sunny day is on the horizon,a rare and odd phenomenon in hell,hear it more professionally from our scientist at voxtech,the camera panes over for a moment giving you time to catch your breath.you don't dare to look down as you mumble softly,almost inaudibly.

"VOXX..."

His audio receptors heightened to listen to your voice,as a jolt of electricity is felt course through him as his hand twitches,his claws lightly sinking into your flesh making you instinctively pull away with a quiet wince.

The camera is quickly panned back over to you,a quiet rip of your panties is unheard by the cameras, as you begin to talk about the weather for the week.

Vox had sliced them right down the middle,normally this would make you gasp and angrily tell him not to do that,but this time,you were powerless.he could do whatever he wanted to you under this desk and no one would be the wiser.but the thought of getting caught only spurred him on, soon noticing the thriving erection threatening to break the fibers that hold his pants together. But that could wait.

He let his younger lull out,a thick glowing teal appendage,almost tentacle like in shape having a "sharp" rounded of tip, a soft blue light was cast across your torso, it being barely picked up by the camera, but still noticeable if you were seeking it out,you hoped no one was.

He made a long lick on the inside of your left thigh,the surprise of darkness made you crumple the piece of paper you were holding slightly, you're mind was starting to get foggy,You're brain going on autopilot for the time being, you read from the script.

His sharp teeth grazed your sensitive inner thigh were he just licked, making your legs try and shut them selves instinctively, he held your legs open forcefully,in a strong almost painful grip.

You set your papers aside,opting to hold the cup of coffee on the table with a death grip instead, it was vox's, it reading "FUCK ALASTOR" just another way to sneak propaganda about the old timely prick anywhere he could.

But no thought could pass your mind without being interrupted by the tiny licks and bites from the man himself.

Your core thronged and pulsed in need,he would call you a slut, or maybe a good little slut of he was feeling nice,but he had to restrain himself as the slight bucking of your hips from your exposed cunt.

You continually talk about the weather,another camera panning moment to see another news reporter with a green screen pointing out all the major weather areas.

Vox took his time teasing your lips,short quick licks,neglecting the spot you wanted him most,you wanted to whine, to tell him to just fuck you already,but you were helplessly under his control right now and he reveled in it.

He suddenly plunged into your heat,his long younger reaching all the way to your cervix.he mapped out your inside, carefully licking at your walls to try to elicit an reaction.

Tour fingers twitched around the mug as your posture shifted to arch your back, your mind was clouded with pleasure as he found the spot that would usually make you squirm.

The camera was moved back to you with a short goodbye from the other reporter,you're smile began to falter slightly as you spoke.

"THANK YOU JANE" and now for tonight's tv schedule.. You looked down at the papers with a twitching eye,beginning to list the shows that would be on tonight.

Vox's rhythm never faltered,each thrust made your vision cloud, forcing you to swat it away as you tried to list off the names.

He could tell you were close,your cunt squeezed his tongue like a vice your clit throbbing for attention.He curled his tongue upward and began to rub a knuckle against the under-stimulated bud.

The suddenness made you voice falter into a slight stutter, but you quickly snapped out of it as your hips began to grind into him subconsciously.

Your end was close you could almost taste it,as the end of the broadcast was coming closer, only two more shows to lost off.

Vox put his all into pleasing you that moment,absolutely pounding your sweet spot and rubbing your foot in unison.

Your vision almost went pure white when you read of the last name,back arching impossibly as you let out a little sigh,your organs am hit you like a truck.

But the thing is,he didn't stop. Your legs wanted to clap shut around that tv screen head put the grip he had on your legs made that hard.

You picked up the last piece of paper to wrap up the report, the goodbye,it was fairly long it took up 3minutes of air time.

But he did have some mercy, letting go of one of your legs to reach a hand out to you,You quickly slide your hand down to lace it with his, squeezing it hard,The overstimulation was enough to force you into another,smaller orgasm,as you tried your hardest not to make any engrossing sounds.

You wave the camera good bye,with your free hand the director shutting it off with a click.

"AND THATS A WRAP PEOPLE BACK TO WORK" the overseer boomed as he clapped,making you flinch vox carefully retracts his tongue back into his mouth, your taste still coating his tongue and mouth as he hummed satisfied with him self.

You began to tremble slightly as you pushed your chair back to look down at him.

His eyes were lidded and his gaze loving as gently pressed a kiss to each of your knees.

"Thank you my little spark, I needed that".

-END

This took forever, it is really long, I hope y'all enjoyed it!

[fanofurfics]

V-Day 💗

A Bucky Barnes Fic

Pairing: Bucky and FemReader

Content warnings: Pure self-indulgent fluff, alcohol. Minimal use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1664

A/N: So I did it. I decided to try my hand at my first Fanfic and decided I’d write and share it today for Valentine’s Day. This was written in the span of about an hour and minimal edits, so any and all mistakes are mine. Please be gentle with me 🫣 I also can’t stress enough this is purely self-indulgent fluff with our boy Bucky ‘cause that’s what I want today.

You had just gotten off of work and it had been a rough day. Being bombarded by the decorations, flowers, cards. Coworkers talking about where they and their date were going tonight inevitably asking what you were doing. And you were doing nothing. No date, no romantic night in, hell, no obligatory Valentine’s Day sex. When someone would “awe” or pout, you assured them it was fine - you were fine. But now without work to keep you busy, you really didn’t feel like doing nothing at home all alone. Luckily there was a bar right around the corner.

By the time you finished your first drink, you had started to rethink your decision. More and more couples filtered in, though you were sure it would be the same just about anywhere tonight. You started to really feel alone. You were doing another visual sweep of the room when you noticed a man walk through the doors. His deep set bright blue eyes stood out first. His strong brow and the scruff on his face kept you looking longer. You had always liked a man in leather. You catch yourself nearly drooling and spin back around towards the bar hoping he didn’t notice you clearly noticing him.

You go to take a drink and remember it’s empty. Just as you reach out to wave down the bartender, the man takes a seat at the bar, leaving just one chair between you, and calls out to the bartender as well just as she’s walking over.

”Sorry. Ladies first” the blue eyed lone man said.

“Thanks.” You smile. Maybe it's just because you’re feeling a little lonely tonight but that small act of chivalry makes you blush.

It isn’t long after you order your drink that another man comes to approach you with his scantily clad date in tow. “Hey, do you think you could scoot over so my girlfriend and I can sit at the bar?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes but smile and nod. “Sure.” You look to both empty seats next to you and before you can make the move yourself, the blue eyed gentleman reaches beside him and pulls out the chair next to him without taking his eye off his whisky in hand. You take it as an invitation, sliding your drink towards him and scooting over.

“Thanks.” You settle in, grabbing your drink to swirl the ice. “They should’ve got here earlier if they wanted their choice of seats.” You grumble just loud enough under your breath that he hears it and snickers before he takes another drink. His reaction is enough for you to decide to make a little small talk with him. You’re sure the bartender would like it if you found someone else to talk to tonight.

“Thanks for the seat. I’m Y/N.” You hold out your hand to the man next to you and he takes it, giving you a firm but gentle shake.

”Bucky.”

”Bucky.” You smile to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just don’t think I’ve met anyone with that name before.” You hope you haven’t already pissed him off by saying something stupid.

”Ah. Well now you have.” He gives a polite smile and goes back to watching the tv behind the bar.

After a few minutes had passed, all you could think about was this guy Bucky. It had been a long time since anyone had captured your attention like this. He was tall, had dark hair, and was extremely handsome. He was quiet, and came off broody, but had been polite to you so far. Sure, you had resigned to do nothing tonight, and maybe it was the drinks but now you didn’t feel all that much like being alone. Unless maybe it was with Bucky. You figured what did you have to lose? If you didn’t hit it off you’d be right back where you are now.

You turn in your chair to face him. ”Have you looked around at everyone here tonight? Most of them have been looking at their phones all night.” He slowly turned his gaze to you first to make sure you were talking to him. You looked at him, eyebrow raised and waiting for some kind of answer. The more seconds that passed, you were sure he would say nothing and just go back to his drink. Fair enough.

He looked around him then turned back to you. “I did notice. Must be pretty crappy dates if they can’t even give each other their attention for a few hours.”

He didn’t completely dismiss you! Great! The two of you continue to make small talk and discuss how sad it is that today people are so in tune with everything around them except those immediately near them. You both start listing off other things one could be doing than wasting time and money out with someone when you’re barely going to connect with them.

You’re really enjoying the conversation and as far as you can tell, he is too. You decide to get a little more personal. “So, did your date stand you up?” He’s staring straight ahead as he takes a swig. Maybe you crossed a sensitive line.

”No” is all he says. You can’t help but think you’ve hit a nerve, but you’re enjoying his company so much you have to try and save this.

”Well that’s good. I wouldn’t want to ask out some guy who was feeling vulnerable.”

Bucky choked a bit on his whisky, then looked at you and cocked his head.

You decided to ask before you lost your nerve.

“How would you feel about being Valentines for the evening? Maybe go play some pool or something?”

Bucky looked around the bar but before he could say anything you added. “There’s a place down the street. It's another bar. They serve whisky.” A small smile creeps up Bucky’s lips. He downs his drink and stands to help you out of your seat. “Shall we then?”

The second bar was crowded as well, but luckily you two were able to secure a pool table and had played game after game. In between rounds, you would put music on the jukebox hoping to hear your song between the long list others had played.

Conversation was easy between you too. He obviously wasn’t the most talkative of people but he was funny, sarcastic. And he was also incredibly sweet. The entire time he had gotten you your drinks and even insisted on paying for them. He’d hold your pool stick for you when you went to the bathroom. There was even a moment when he was taking his shot that he noticed some guy coming on to you and not getting the hint that you weren't interested. Bucky walked right up and put himself between you and the inebriated man. “We got a problem?” Bucky asked. The way this man could stare daggers at people was terrifying. And, a little exciting if you were being honest.

The drunken fool decided to push him in the chest and Bucky didn’t even budge. This infuriated the guy who then took a swing at Bucky, who caught his fist in his left hand and with the slightest squeeze, the man was on his knees. “Okay! Okay! Okay! Ow ow ow!” The drunken fool stumbled out of the bar with his tail between his legs after that.

The hours flew and before you knew it, it was last call and you two were the only ones left in the bar. You realized you had had so much fun you forgot about work in the morning. Begrudgingly you decide to call it a night. “Hey Bucky, I’ve had a really great time, but I should probably get going.” You walked over to grab your jacket off of the chair.

”Hold on.” Bucky put up a hand and then dug out a dollar from his pocket as he went to the jukebox. An old Billie Holiday song comes on and as he walks up to you, he extends his right hand. “May I have this dance?”

You can’t hide the grin that beams from your face and he smiles back. The two of you stand there in the middle of the empty bar and begin to sway back and forth in each other's arms. One hand in yours, the other on the small of your back, you feel yourself begin to melt for this man. He pulls you just the slightest bit closer and rests his face against yours. You had been on dates and had flings recently, but nothing with them had ever felt this intimate. This correct. Your heart breaks just a little as the song ends. You wish you could stay in this moment forever. You’re barely able to tear yourself apart from him, but do. Bucky grabs your coat and helps slip it over your shoulders.

“May I walk you home?” Bucky asks as he holds open the exit door.

”Please.” You don’t see it, but he is grinning now too.

The four block walk goes by too quickly and soon you’re on the steps leading up to your apartment building. You’re about to say something but Bucky beats you to it. “Thanks for the great time, doll. This was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve had in a long, long time.”

“Me too” you admit. “And Bucky,… You were the perfect gentleman.”

He scoffs at your remark. Bucky gently grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips giving you a tender kiss. “Goodnight.” Before he can let go, you turn your hand to grab his. “Wait.” You’re nervous, but would beat yourself up if you didn’t take the chance. You hadn’t hit it off like this with someone so quickly. “Would you…would you like to come in?”

Bucky gives the smallest smile and thinks about it. He shakes his head. “Next time, doll.” He kissed your hand once more. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Closing the door behind you, you couldn’t help but do a giddy dance before making your way to your apartment and climbing into your bed to dream, no doubt, about your darling Bucky.

[narrans]

NEXT PUBLISHED BOOK WINNER!

Hey there tall, small, and in the walls!

I am absolutely thrilled to announce that "My Borrowed Son" has officially won the poll. Across all of my platforms (Tumblr, Wattpad, DeviantArt, Twitter/X, and Ko-Fi), I did the math and My Borrowed Son ended up as the winner.

We are not done yet though!

The next step is to determine whether or not YOU - the amazing and wonderful readers and creators here - want hard back or soft back books.

Keep in mind! These books have raised in price. I did some math and have the price comparison down below.

Hard back is on the LEFT Paperback is on the RIGHT

As you can see, there is a significant price difference.

I would LOVE to do the hardback, but want to make sure this is a financially smart decision.

SO! Below is a poll. Please let me know whether you want hard back or soft back and PLEASE RSVP which book type you would like if you would like to purchase a copy of "My Borrowed Son."

This is such an amazing community and I cannot thank all of you enough for commenting and enjoying my piddly scratchings. I cannot wait to see what you all want to do moving forward. There will certainly be more updates to follow.

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

[nwjws]

HEART OF (24K) GOLD - EIGHT

; SYNOPSIS - jake’s had it easy his whole life. with a famous actor for a dad and his mom being the head nurse at a private clinic in the city, everything he wants gets handed to him on a silver platter - at least, until he meets you at a MUN conference. now, he’s forced to learn that money doesn’t buy everything, but he’s willing to do what it takes to be yours.

EIGHT maccas maccas spiderinfestation maccas

— SEVEN ; MASTERLIST ; NINE

; AUTHOR'S CORNER ! HII i'm back from hiatus!! sorry for the long wait </3

; TAGLIST - paper rings tl . @yizhoutv @jiawji @ririlovesrenjun @kgneptun @filmofhybe @hoondiors h24kg tl . @yenqa @lilriswife4life @jlheon @luvswonyoung @mrchweeee @haechansbbg @miujunhui @s00buwu @articxari @rikisly @amazingly-amazing-loser @aishigrey @woncafe @txtlyn @i-hwa @isawritesss @nanuer @ariadores @miniature-tragedy @teddywonss @luv4jun @tocupid send an ask or comment on the masterlist to be added .

[cupofkofi]

[3:45PM] "you know what's annoying with huang renjun?" you ask your friend as you were packing your stuff from school, ready to go home. "his roasts?" your friend chuckles as you role your eyes and shook your head. "no! he knows how to sing, how to dance, he can draw, he can cook, according to chenle he can sew, plus he cleans his own room-" your friend interrupted you, "i think everyone cleans their room once in a while-" but you didn't care about your friend's remark and still continued "he's close to his friends and his family-" your friend rolled their eyes. "are you done?" your friend said as you both started walking out of the classroom and towards your lockers. "he's incredibly smart and wise, outspoken- basically EVERYTHING! HE CAN DO ANYTHING!" you burst out as you two reached your respective lockers along with earning weird looks from the people around you. "he's so handsome and cute like where is the flaw?" you add up to your outburst. "so what's irritating there?" your friend questions, "he's so unrealistically perfect in everything he does but you know what's they one thing he doesn't have?" you ask which made your friend scrunch up and think. "patience?" your friend remarked causing you both to laugh but you again shook your head, "he can never be mine." your joyful smile from describing him earlier turned into a saudade smile.

ever since the day you first met renjun, he became your instant crush. you did everything just to gain your attention in the smallest and shyest way possible, not wanting to seem to eager in to getting his attention. your friend knew about it and would always tease you about your crush and you have to admit, you sometimes get jealous of your friend for having the confidence to even talk to him.

unfortunately, renjun likes someone else. you were broken down by the news that he likes someone when one of renjun's friends, chenle, was your group mate in a group project. from then on, you tried to move on from renjun but found it difficult so you tend to rant your feelings to your friend.

what you didn't know was that chenle was talking about you when he told you that renjun liked someone. unbeknownst to you, crush!renjun was listening to your rant. shocked from your confession despite not being directly spoken too.

it's only a matter of who would make the first move.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Just Up the Stairs

On Valentine's Day, amidst the chaos of handling work and university deadlines as a mature student, Crowley seeks solace with his neighbour Aziraphale. As they share a meal, their long-standing friendship begins to unravel, revealing hidden feelings they've harboured for six months. It's a night that could change everything.

Length: 39,147 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, After Dark, Human AU, Romance, Fluff

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by foolishlovers, ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia

*Minor Spoilers* Today is Trans Visibility Day, and so I have finally gone back to a story that I have been meaning to reread for a while now! This is a beautiful, sweet, and tender romance story written by two writers and one incredibly talented artist who all have done so much to bring affirming and celebratory trans depictions to the Good Omens fandom.

In this story, Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors. Crowley is trans and an older student trying to finish his Architecture degree, and Aziraphale dreams of owning his own bookshop one day. The pair meet for weekly grocery shopping trips, where a shy friendship starts, and they bond over music together. As a side tangent, the use of music in this story remains one of my favorite parts. I just love human stories that let Aziraphale be a little modern. Their music selections were great, and I loved the atmosphere and intimacy it let them develop. Sharing music with a love interest just does something to my heart!! Anyway, these two have been shyly circling each other for months, but fate has something planned for them this year's Valentine's Day.

Warm and unabashedly romantic, this first date of theirs is sprinkled with moments of comedic interruptions. I love the cast of characters as their other neighbors, and the adorable Harry the rabbit. Anathema was particularly fun. These asides draw out their night, making sure that they keep spending it in each other's company but also gives them time to reminisce on their past encounters. This story is so full of promise and charm; they are going to have such a loving future together. It's the perfect Valentine's fantasy.

Most of this story is safe in public, however, the last chapter is not! That one you'll want to save until you can savor it. It's the gorgeous lovemaking between two people who have really grown to know each other in the deepest ways possible. This is such a great story!! It effortlessly flows between writers, and the art included made my heart pitter-patter every time. Especially the nsfw one at the end, that had me full on blushing over here! Settle in with your coziest slippers for this lovely story.

Read it here, fic by foolishlovers, ineffabildaddy, omens_for_ophelia