#I’ll be honest the more I think about it the more irritated I am

[amostimprobabledream]

Falling in Reverse (Dazai Osamu x Reader) Part Two

I meant to write more of this like...two years ago? My bad. I hope you enjoy despite that! <3 -

This is fine.

You kept on thinking it as you sat there, trying to pay attention.

You told yourself to stop it. Stop nitpicking, finding fault with every little thing and refusing to live in the moment for a solitary fucking second. You could feel your fingers twitching with desperation to check your messages, and nearly sit on your hands in an effort to stop yourself. You poured your focus into acting normal instead, nodding in the right places, making encouraging noises, keeping your facial expression open and inviting instead of sliding into boredom or irritation…

It's a fucking lot of work.

The guy – his name was Ken-something, he said what it was when you sat down but the bar was kind of loud and the chance to get him to repeat it somehow slipped past you – was good-looking enough but he wasn’t especially interesting to talk to, and he kept looking around the bar like he was expecting something. He asked the basic questions, but you got the feeling he wasn’t really listening when you answered. The only time he did seem intrigued was when you mentioned your job. You kept it vague, since the Armed Detective Agency wasn’t popular with some people, and he’d lost interest when you clarified it was just a desk job.

“So you don’t get to get out much?” he asked, with a lopsided smirk like he’d made some hilarious sexual innuendo you hadn’t got yet.

“Oh, you know, I run errands sometimes.” You replied, pretending to think hard about the response. It's actually true – Ranpo had you bringing him so many snacks it’s like he thought you were the goddamn Easter Bunny, yet you could never quite bring yourself to say ‘no’ to him. “Thrilling stuff, I know.”

 “That’s too bad. Maybe you need someone to show you some thrills, you know?”

A smirk accompanied that, and you dutifully waited for the butterflies in your stomach, or a flicker of intrigue, or something, but your ardour remained stubbornly cool. Frustration bubbled inside you, and you took a big gulp of your drink. It was like you were jamming keys you knew fit into the ignition of a car, but every time you turned it, the engine would not turn on, no matter how much you tried to will it to life.

But going home would feel like quitting. Like admitting defeat. Like you're really saying: I'm so obsessed with my co-worker who is both terrible and far too good for me that I can't give anyone else a chance. Sad, huh?

“Excuse me for a sec,” you said instead, flashing a smile you didn’t feel, rising to your feet. “I’ll be right back.”

He waved a hand in acknowledgement, and you could tell he was watching you as you headed for the ladies’ room, the heat of it making you strangely uneasy, knowing his eyes were going down your body, cataloguing. For sure he was looking at your ass in the dress.

The ladies’ room was blessedly quiet, and you splashed some water on your face, staring down your reflection, hands braced either side of the sink.

What am I doing here? You thought, and sighed.

It’s just a lacklustre date. You’ve gone on them before and usually put no further thought into them once you took off your makeup and outfit and slipped into bed. There are millions of people in the world, the odds of being instantly compatible with someone seemed like a rare enough thing not to take too personally.

But looking at yourself in your red dress, your hair washed and makeup still nice (if getting slightly smudgy – most of your lipgloss had already transferred to the rim of your glass), you didn’t feel like some kind of sexy badass like you’d been going for.

You just felt kind of stupid, to be honest.

You really thought you did something, didn’t you? A nasty inner voice sneered at you. You thought this was like a movie where you could put on a slutty dress, have an amazing date with a cute guy and magically cure your shitty life? You thought this would fix anything?

You hated that the bitchy voice was right.

“You stupid bitch.” You muttered out loud, your reflection mouthing the words back at you, and you shook your head and exited the toilets before somebody walked in on the stranger talking to herself.

Perhaps the drinks are hitting you a little harder than you thought, because a vague fuzz of light-headedness descended on you as you walked towards your booth, and you decided that you liked it. It took the edge of your self-consciousness and made you forget how this wasn’t the kind of dress you usually wore, or that you were going on a stupid date to get over your feelings for a co-worker who was literally a hazard to one’s health.

But then, just as you got back to your seat, younearly tripped over yourself in shock when you got to the booth and the back of the seated man’s head was definitely not the man you’d come into the bar with.

You’d know those fluffy brown locks anywhere.

“Dazai, what the fuck?!“ you said, then remembered to lower your voice into a hiss, anger coming to you in a sharp burst, like opening a bottle that’s been shaken up first. “You can’t just come in here and- “

Dazai turned his head and your ranting abruptly halted. His face was devoid of its usual playful smirk and the sparkle of mischief in his eyes, eyes that looked brown but when the light hit them just right, they got this golden sheen that looked just like honey…

You were distracted for a second, and Dazai’s voice cut through the fog.

“I don’t have time to explain, we have to move now.”

Something in his voice froze your anger – it had dropped an octave from his usual light-hearted, teasing tone he often adopted to annoy Kunikida or trick Atsushi into doing something for him. No, Dazai wasn’t playing around, and your stomach dropped when you caught the look on his face.

More questions teemed on your tongue, but he was standing up, up, out of the seat and away from the little booth, grabbing your arm as he rushed by. Your half-finished drink lay abandoned and unpaid for – you knew Dazai had a habit of dine and dashing and apparently he was putting it to good use now.

He dragged you through the kitchen, so quickly that the yells of surprise from the cooks were already far behind you as he opened the door to the back of the bar and you’d stepped into the cool outside air. Dazai didn’t pause in his stride or let go of your arm and you realised to your chagrin that you’d left your jacket behind in the booth. You could only hope some kind soul would hand it in to the place to hold onto, though they might not feel like returning it since you’d just disappeared without paying for your drink.

“Dazai, slow down-" you said, doing your damndest to keep up with him – you’re not exactly dressed for running. “What’s going on?”

“Your date isn’t just your average Joe, I’m afraid.” Dazai replied, grimly, apparently deciding that telling you something was more practical than refusing to go into detail and risking a mutiny. “I’m not sure where you found this guy, but he’s there to try and pump information about the Armed Detective Agency from you.”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly – you barely had time to register the chilly sting of disappointment, like cool air from a fast moving vehicle whipping by you.

“What the fuck – how could you possibly know that?” you spluttered, before another, unwelcome possibility struck you. “Were you… following me?!”

“Of course I was.” He said, in a voice that sounded a bit more like his usual one – that annoying, teasy, I-know-something-you-don’t-know tone that usually got him slapped upside the head by Kunikida.

Your indignant squawk was cut off when he wrenched at your arm and suddenly, you’d stopped running and were enveloped in cool darkness. He’d found some kind of little snicket that somebody passing at a reasonable pace would probably have missed. You’re not surprised that Dazai was well-acquainted with hidden away little spots like that.

“Dazai-" you said again, frustrated and slightly out of breath – why was he stopping?

“Ssh.” He said.

In the distance you could hear the screeching of a car – no, more than one car – and an even more distant wailing of sirens. His arms caged you in and he was staring over his shoulder intently, like a fox that has heard the baying of the hounds.

“No doubt the Port Mafia’s goons are out looking for their little friend now.” He muttered, more to himself than you. It was like he’d forgotten you were there. “It’s for the best if this doesn’t get traced back to the Armed Detective Agency.”

Your mouth felt dry suddenly, noting the calculating look in Dazai’s eyes and unease crawled up your back. It’s so easy to forget that Dazai used to be one of them, that he knew the way they think and that he’s capable of switching back into that mode with frightening ease. Just because you’re co-workers didn’t mean you knew much about him, and you’re being made painfully aware of that fact right now.

“Dazai…just what did you do?” you asked, and you couldn’t hide the faint hitch in your voice.

Did he drag the guy outside and kill him? Was that why the police sirens were coming closer? If you pulled back the front of his coat right now, would his immaculate white shirt be splattered with still-wet blood? Does he think you told the guy something valuable? You didn’t think Dazai would hurt you – but you couldn’t be completely, one-hundred percent sure.

What did you really know about Osamu Dazai?

“Don’t worry. The Port Mafia don’t take kindly when you mess with one of their own,” Dazai said, seemingly able to discern your mounting fears with a glance, perhaps the look in your eyes or the tremor when you spoke gave you away. “He’ll live, but he’ll think twice before he tries using someone from the Agency like that.”

Thank god for that. You think – not that you would have lost too much sleep over one ex-Port Mafia member, but the thought of being stuck in a tiny space with a man who had just recently murdered someone wasn’t exactly the kind of exciting activity you’d hoped for tonight.

“So, we should get out of here,” you said, swallowing. “While they’re still swarming the bar.”

“Not yet. They’ll be looking for people running for public transport.” Dazai replied, his voice so certain that you didn’t question him further – why would you? This was all new territory for you, whereas Dazai had been doing this kind of thing since he was fifteen.

“So then what-?”

But you both fell silent as you heard something else – voices, drawing closer. Dazai swore softly under his breath, and he leaned in a little closer to you like he was trying to shield you from view with his body. You could feel yourself starting to sweat from the intensity of it, fighting back a grimace as you felt a trickle of it sliding down the length of your upper arm. Fuck.

"I'm sorry," Dazai said, after a beat, when the voices had drawn so close that you swore any second - any second! – they were going to find you and maybe kill you, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears.

 And Dazai truly sounded regretful - he really was a good actor.

 “I'm going to have to kiss you."

He didn't give you pause to process his words, which came to you as if from far away, floating to your ears, because the next thing you knew, long slender fingers were cupping your jaw, turning your face and his mouth was sliding over yours.

Most first kisses are awkward, fumbling affairs. Getting used to someone else's rhythm, trying not to do something awkward and mood-killing like clash teeth or bite the other person's tongue can slow things down, cause a few seconds where the spell is broken.

Kissing Dazai - or rather, being kissed by him, was nothing like that.

He kissed you like he'd been given a guide. Like he knew you, intrinsically and deeply, and knew the inner workings of your mind and mouth better than you did. One hand stayed cradling your jaw, the other one slid down, and his long, elegant fingers wrapped around your waist, pulling you in until you were pressed flush against him. It didn’t escape your notice that his crotch was also touching you and you were decidedly grateful his mouth was firmly joined with yours, or you might have actually whimpered out loud.

How often had you dreamed of this? Your nights had been full of sordid little fantasies of Dazai, of dropping your guard and confessing to him, and then, in your mind, he’d smile and tell you he’d always known, before he kissed you. Or depending on how raunchy you were feeling, other times you’d picture him just sweeping everything off your desk in a dramatic gesture and fucking you right then and there on the desk?

And all of it had seemed so stupid and pathetic than you’d be stinging with shame after your late-night fantasies reached their climax, lusting so hard over someone who probably barely noticed you were present in the room. Falling for Dazai’s looks was one thing, but you saw what he was like on a day-to-day basis, how he was lazy and unprofessional and sometimes kind of an asshole. But cold logic would not touch your yearning.

And now, in this cold, cramped little forgotten pocket of Yokohama, Dazai was putting your daydreams to shame. Your lips tingled as if you’d kissed something with a high voltage, heat surging along your bloodstream. Dazai’s touch was gentle but firm and the way he tilted his head, angling yours at his preference, sent a thrill chasing down your spine.

The voices were now right across from you, within arm’s reach, but Dazai felt you stiffen in fear and simply deepened the kiss, holding you tightly to him.

“Nevermind. Nobody’s here ‘cept some lovebirds.” A man’s rough voice said and it sounded so close, you could practically smell him, but you forced yourself to tune him out like someone deep in the throes of passion would, to sink into the sensation of Dazai’s hands on you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the pleasant scent of him, sort of like freshly-cut wood and whisky.

“Come on, let’s go this way, they probably took the subway.”

The footsteps go the opposite direction, you hear one of the Port Mafia grunts swearing as he walks through a puddle, and the fear pricking you recedes. Dazai had one eye open, scanning behind you, before he finally breaks the kiss and pulled back. You felt bereft, but you were also seized by the abrupt urge to laugh at the sparkly smudge of gloss on the corner of his mouth.

“Nicely done,” Dazai remarked, his eyes cutting down at you, and his lips curved in a smirk. “Almost like it was real.”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound ironic, but you sounded far too breathy to be sufficiently aloof. “Almost.”

Dazai’s hand had not left your waist yet and he stepped out of the hiding place, pulling you after him.

“Stay close to me,” he instructed, his voice husky. “We’re not out of danger yet.”

You nodded and wiped your mouth on the back of the wrist.

With Dazai, danger was a given. You just hoped you’d come out of it in one piece – in more ways than one. But your voice was steady as you answered;

“Then let’s go.”

[kukuandkookie]

Gnashing my teeth a bit because I found another reaction to donghua (it was for the Lord of the Mysteries trailer) and I was pretty excited because—despite bad experiences—I always try to be tentatively excited about any international attention paid to donghua…

But then the man says halfway through, “Somehow China’s not sucking, which is like…shocking.”

Yikes, much? 😬

And you know what sucks even more??

He later mentions it looks great, but he also says, “I don’t know how much of it could be AI-generated though, but yeah…”

Is it that insane that some Chinese animators can actually make something really nice?? Jesus fucking Christ.

[deus-ex-mona]

sena 🤝 yujiro

older siblings (who see themselves as unreliable) who look out for and love their (relatively aloof) younger siblings unconditionally

[peachigummi]

here's a lesson ✎ mattheo riddle.

summary: classic mattheo coming to terms with how he feels about reader. slytherins are having a formal party - and guess what! someone else asks reader to the party, making him jealous!! mattheo tells them it’s a bad idea. yet, they still decide to go through with it. he obviously takes the opportunity to smugly watch from afar while trying to have fun himself. he’ll teach you a thing or two about what happens when you don’t listen to him 🤭🤭.

pairing: tutor / best friend! mattheo x fem! reader (one use of “y/n”)

warnings: mainly banter, mild jealousy (aka not too insanely toxic), mentions of alcohol/weed, spanking, spitting (one mention of it), fingering, unprotected piv, missionary (if it’s hard to imagine the position), pillow princess action ✨ (I’ll say this again, personally, ME, personally, me and I, could not ever let this slide when it comes to Mattheo, im too feral.), overstimulation, dacryphilia (i do think our dear matty would kinda really be into it), choking, eh kind of edging, praise!, creampie 🫣🤭🤭

note:  im very sorry for not keeping my word about putting this out before my trip with my buds. althoughhhh i brought my laptop with me and here i am c: working on this for yall. i really hope you enjoy this, its a lengthy read because i just love tension so much.

word count: 11k+ (partially why this took so long to post im so sorry. lots of plot)

(trust i will never perfectly proofread my work at this point)

mattheo told me that he expects you to reblog, like & comment so you better do it. do you want to make him mad? (BWAHAHA jk...unless 🤨)

°. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Mattheo and you were seated on one of the sunny courtyard tables, papers and books displayed all out on the flat surface. You were distracted by your phone, paying little focus on the task at hand. You let out small laughs and smiles, Mattheo was watching you for a while now wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You would snort and shake your head, sighing to yourself. He didn’t like that someone or something was distracting you from him and your studies..of course the studies were more important despite listing himself first. He leaned over to grab your chin, forcing you to turn and face up at him, “pay attention.” Mattheo hissed.

You couldn’t help but blush as he did this, making you look into his deep brown eyes, “I’m sorry Mattheo…”

A small smirk appears on his face when he notices you blush, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “You should be. You’re too distracted on that damn phone.” He continues to hold your chin in place.

“I was just asked out on a date…I mean I think it’s a date…” you move his hand away from your face, going back to your phone. You scroll up on the message thread and push it toward him to look over.

Mattheo’s smirk vanished and was replaced with a look of irritation, first when you pulled away from him, and secondly, after reading the message exchange. He pushes your phone back at you, looking at your eyes with annoyance. “Why would he do that? Why would you say yes?” He asked with a snarky tone, clearly not pleased about you being asked out by someone else.

Mattheo had been your tutor at first, but eventually you both became close friends through the forced proximity. Your grades were much higher because of him, and despite not needing him as much for that purpose - you both still hung out with each other. To be truthful and completely honest with yourself, it was because you had a fat crush on him…but it never turned into anything more. So you just enjoyed being his friend.

You decided to jump back into the dating scene after the unsuccessful attempt (as if you even tried confess to Mattheo and turn your relationship into something more; you needed him to make the first move), but it was a struggle because well…you were with Mattheo most of the time. At this point people thought that you had an open relationship, where he’s the one going on dates with different girls and not you. People didn’t approach you, not romantically. So naturally, you were in a state of giggling surprise when you were asked out. 

“It’s Charlie…do you know him? Yay big, muscular, dark headed, dreamy bedroom eyes…he’s a Ravenclaw.” You describe him while showing Mattheo goofy photos of Charlie that he had sent you.

He clenched his jaw, clearly not liking the way you described him. He pushed your phone away again, not wanting to see more of the guy. “Yeah, I know him. He’s in my class.” He said coldly, looking at your eyes with irritation. 

“Really - what’s he like in it?” You leaned into Mattheo, excited for more information on Charlie.

“Why would you want to go out on a date with him?” Mattheo ignored your question. 

“Why not? It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone…” you rolled your eyes, “you wouldn’t understand since you’re always going out.”

He huffed as soon as you mentioned him going on dates. It wasn’t exactly untrue, but the fact that you were going out on a date with someone else now annoyed him more than he’d like to admit. “Because you could do so much better than him and besides, who says I always go on dates?” Mattheo crossed his arms, looking slightly defensive.

Yeah - like I could be dating you!

You let out a sigh. “Mattheo don’t even play games with me right now. You literally went on a date with my childhood best friend last week! And you knew how much that pissed me off.”

He couldn’t help but wince slightly as you brought that up, clearly regretting it. “Okay fine. And? That was last week.”

“I heard from a little owl that Margie has been begging you to take her to her grandfather’s funeral as a date!” You blurt out almost laughing, “can you imagine how insane that sounds!? Bless her grandfather, may he rest in peace…but goddamn Mattheo, these girls are shameless when it comes to you.”

He rolled his eyes, he had to admit, he couldn’t believe just how desperate some girls were when it came to him. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I’ve told her multiple times that I don't want to go with her, but she just won't listen. She’s persistent as hell!” 

You nudged his side playfully, “you’ve got to admit it’s kind of funny though.” You smile at him. It was easy to get him frustrated, but at the end of the day you didn’t want him to feel that way. It was bad on the body to be so angry all the time.

He groaned, but couldn't hold back his chuckle. “Yeah I suppose it is a little funny…and annoying. Mostly annoying.” Mattheo said in a slightly lighter tone. While he did love to have girls practically throwing themselves at him all the time, it did get to be too much sometimes.

“But yeah…Charlie asked me if I wanted to go to our own Slytherin party…like duh I was already going!” You paused going back to your notes, comparing them to Mattheo’s, “I mean could you imagine me turning him down and still having to see him in my own common room?”

He huffed again, not liking how you brought the conversation back to Charlie. “Well you could’ve at least pretended to think about it. Don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” He really didn’t like the idea of you going to this party with him, but he didn’t want to come off as too possessive either.

“Wrong idea? I think I like him. He’s funny…smart..and seems nice enough.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at your notes, “no one ever approaches me…they’re too afraid of you.”

Mattheo’s eyes narrow slightly when you admit this, and when you list what his good qualities were. He clenched his jaw, “What, you mean you actually like him? Really?” There was a hint of jealousy in his voice that he couldn’t quite completely hide.

“Oh c’mon Matty, it’s not a crime.” You put your hand behind his back, rubbing circles to calm him down. “Let me just take a chance. If things go bad then you can rub it in my face okay? You can tell me that I was ~dumb~ that you were ~right~” You say in a singsong voice, knowing how much he liked teasing you when it came to showing how much better he was than you.

He couldn’t fight staying irritated when you touched him like that. It was slowly calming him down, “fine, fine. I’ll let you have a chance with this guy.” He spits one last time. “If things go bad I am most definitely going to rub it in your face. I guess I’ll have to go to this party to watch you.”

“That’s my boy.” You put your head on his shoulder before returning to your notes, “Now how do I pronounce this incantation?”

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Once you finished your studying together, you both walked to the great hall to have dinner. You were both back to your usual joking selves. You sat down at the Slytherin table, there was a louder buzz than usual, everyone seemed excited for the weekend to start.

“I guess everyone’s excited for tomorrow.” Mattheo said, watching you sit down first before he did.

“I have this new dress just for the event too! I love how there’s a solid theme this time around. It’ll be fun to see everyone dressed up all spiffy.” You say excitedly, being easily influenced by everyone’s energy. You grabbed Mattheo’s plate, serving him his food first before grabbing something for yourself.

 “Oh, a new dress? I bet it looks good on you.” He smiled at your excitement, but he was still feeling slightly annoyed and worried at your choice of date. He tried not showing it. He watched as you served him his food, his eyes unable to hide his affection he had for you. You always took good care of him. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I don't want anything bad to happen to you at this party. I know you’re excited and everything, but just be careful alright? I’ll be there watching but…I’m going to be outnumbered. There’s going to be lots of people and not all of them are good.”

You notice his change. You set his plate down in front of him and feel his forehead with the back of your hand. “Mattheo are you okay?”

He batted your hand away when you checked his forehead, clearly not liking being fussed over. “I’m fine. I just…don't trust other guys around you. They’re animals and they might try something with you, especially since you’re going to wear this new dress that you’re so excited about…” He could just imagine the looks you’d be getting already.

“Oh stop it Mattheo. I appreciate your concern, but it has nothing to go with the dress. Literally everyone is going to be dressed up, it’s going to be fancy. Here, if it makes you feel any better I can show you my dress beforehand for your approval.” You try hard to keep yourself from rolling your eyes, Mattheo had good intentions but he didn’t need to worry.

He smirked, he liked the idea of being the one to approve your dress, even though he knew he was being overbearing and overprotective. “Yeah, I think that would make me feel better. I mean, I need to make sure the dress is appropriate and not too revealing, you know?” He couldn’t help but relish having that power over you.

“It really isn’t though, it’s perfect and beautiful. It shows the perfect amount of skin to make it fun.” You bite your finger and wink at him. You took your own plate now, choosing your usuals.

Mattheo watched as you filled your plate, his eyes unable to resist roaming over your body for a moment as you leaned over the table, “perfect amount of skin, huh? I’ll be the judge of that.”

You knew that Mattheo was staring at you, so you wiggle your hips a little before sitting down. You smack the side of his head when he continues gawking, “tame yourself, Riddle.” He chuckled when you did this. He was going to make a snarky remark when Theodore came over and interrupted you both.

“GUYS PLEASE!” Theodore said, putting an arm around each of you, “hurry up and finish eating, I need help with the common room set up.”

“Damn it, Theo, can’t you just wait? We’ll help you set up the common room, just give us a break for now.” He didn’t like being interrupted when he was enjoying your presence.

You look at him, “Teddy, we still have a full day. Don’t be so worried. You’ll have more hands to help you now that everyone is done with Friday classes.” Theodore wanted to lead this event, he had complained for too long that Slytherins needed to reestablish a sense of powerful class and elegance. “You’re looking pale. Come sit, eat. You can’t miss your own party.” You pull Theodore down to sit in between Mattheo and you.

Theodore slumped down in the seat, grumbling about how stressed he was about the party. “I just want everything to be perfect, okay? This party needs to be one to be remembered, we can’t be known for having sleazy ones. Ugh…who am I kidding, knowing our house, everything is going to turn out terrible -”

“Teddy, no it’s not.” You take his plate, filling it with different proteins to give him energy. “Look around, everyone is excited. They’ll all be more than willing to help. We all know this party is going to be different from the rest.” You hug him after setting his plate down. 

He looks around the Great Hall, feeling the buzz. “I guess you’re right.” He looked down at his plate and began to eat, taking your advice to give himself some energy. 

You couldn't help but ruffle his hair knowing how stressed he was, “please take care of yourself okay? We’ll help. Mattheo and I will go with you after this.” Theo didn’t mind the hair ruffle, he actually cracked a smile at your concern for him and the fact that you were trying to take care of him when he wasn’t. If it wasn’t for Mattheo’s not so subtle possession over you, Theo would have made you his by now. 

You lean backwards over to slap Mattheo’s arm subtly so he could say some words of encouragement. 

“Damn it, woman, quit slapping me.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, rubbing his arm where you had slapped him, giving you a mock-hurt look. You glare at him, go on say something nice! “Alright, alright. Look, Theo, you’ve always have great ideas for stuff like this. This party will be a success, okay? Just relax and take it easy, we want to see you at your own party tomorrow.” He was sounding a bit mocking, but he was sincere.

You smile at him, pleased with his words. 

Draco suddenly popped up in front of the group, “which should I wear…!” He looked nearly as panicked as Theodore did. The three of you looked at the two suits he was holding up. They were literally identical down to the cufflinks. You wanted to snort. 

“Seriously, Draco? Those suits look exactly the same. Just close your eyes and pick one, geez.” Mattheo spoke up, finding it amusing how ridiculous Draco was over such a trivial thing. You were trying your hardest to hold in your laugh, your mouth was cupped by your hand. 

“You guys suck.” Draco said before making his way to Astoria. We watched as she looked just as confused as we did, but she pointed at one of them. He visibly looked immediately relaxed. Draco was hopeless sometimes.

“Seriously, Draco can be such a drama queen sometimes. He couldn’t even pick an outfit without needing Astoria’s help. He’s so dependent on her sometimes.”

“I kinda love that for them though…” You stared at the two love birds before returning to your plate, rolling the grape around with your fork. 

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, giving you a smirk. “You’re such a hopeless romantic. Always swooning over other couples and their lovey-dovey moments.” He felt a little pang of guilt, for not allowing another man to get close to you so you could experience that. We shook his head when he thought about that, trying to get rid of the feeling.

“Shut up Mattheo.” You stabbed the grape, putting it into your mouth begrudgingly. As you did so you looked toward the Ravenclaw table, seeing that Charlie was already staring at you. You wondered for how long he was watching you. You blushed and waved.

Mattheo let out a soft sigh, he enjoyed knowing he could rile you up with his teasing. He followed your gaze and saw you looking at Charlie, who was staring at you lovesick. “Oh great, there’s your lover boy, looking at you like a lost puppy.” He snickered, hating it.

You dropped your smile when you pried your eyes off Charlie, “blah blah blah.” Mattheo was lucky Theodore was still silently munching on his food in between you two, or it would have earned him another smack on the head or an ear pull. “And who are you taking as your date?”

He just shrugged, “I literally made the decision to go to this party once I found out you were going… with someone. I will have to just go solo.” He said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the idea of being able to flirt with other girls without the constraints of being tied down to a date, “that way I can have freedom to do whatever I want.” He felt that pang of guilt again for his hypocrisy.

“Fair enough.” You knew how much he liked to flirt, it boosted his ego. “Just don’t get beat up when you hit on the wrong girl. I won't be there to stop that fight, I wouldn’t want to ruin my hair and dress.”

He laughed, amused with your warning. “Please, doll. I know how to pick the right girls to flirt with. I’m not worried about getting beat up by their partners. They always fall for my charm.” He said, clearly confident with his ability to charm anyone, even those with jealous partners.

“Who falls for your charm? The girl or their partner?” You laugh.

He didn’t like your sarcastic response, “Oh ha ha. Very funny. Obviously, I meant the girls. But let’s be honest, there have been a few of their partners who have fallen for me as well. I’m just that irresistible, you know?”

“Actually…I do believe that. All hail king Mattheo.” You move your hands up and down in his direction.

“Can you two shut up?” Theodore blurted with his mouth full of food, “I’m trying to think here.”

You both stared at Theodore, then looked at each other one more time sharing a silent agreement. Mattheo smacked Theo’s back while you pulled on his hair. Theodore groaned in surprise. Before he could properly react, the two of you had bolted out of the great hall. 

Mattheo and you made it down to the dungeons, having ran the whole way. You pointed at Mattheo to say the passcode, you were too out of breath.

He laughed, enjoying your flustered out-of-breath state and how you were leaning against a wall. Clearly not conditioned like he was. He was hardly winded, “Viper’s Den.” Mattheo opened the door for you, you followed him inside.

“Wooaahhh! What the hell does Teddy need help with? This looks amazing.” You looked around the heavily decorated room. You twirled around taking in the sight, there was no way this was the same common room. 

Mattheo stared at your reaction with a smile, barely noticing the room. He had to peel his eyes away from you when you stopped twirling. “He outdid himself.”

He looked around nodding in approval, “Oh! Come over here!” He beckons you over to a corner of the room. He gestures over to a table that had a clear covering over it. It had an array of sweet-smelling treats. There were honey buns, chocolate cakes, berry tarts, and everything in between. It was like a little piece of sweet heaven. He began to peel back the covering when you slapped his hand. 

“Stop it. Wait for tomorrow night.” 

“You’re no fun. I just wanted a small nibble, we didn’t even get to have dessert at the great hall.”

You look around again, there was an identical table. “All that’s missing is the drinks…you know I heard another rumor that those Hufflepuffs want to help out too with some herbs. If you catch my drift.” You smile at him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Maybe we can get high again! It’s been so long!” You laughed at the last time Mattheo and you partook in their drugs. You had a sleepover in Mattheo’s dorm for three days straight. Surviving on just water and sleep. 

He nodded in agreement, clearly remembering the same thing. “Oh yeah, that was fun. I would love to have another sleepover like that again.” His grin got bigger as he reminisced. He thought about how you both slept on his floor together because the bed was too small and he kept falling off of it. He remembered you being so attached to him that night, being a needy mess. But he was all for it. He couldn’t wait to blow the smoke into each other’s mouths once again.

The door opened, snapping him out of the train of thought, it was Theodore. He looked annoyed but glad to see you both there. “Good. Here’s what I need you two to do.” He started to list things off. Mattheo groaned, but got to work, knowing the promise you both made to him. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

You got out of the shower, it felt good. It was an intense session. You used your best soaps, exfoliators, you shaved, you slathered on a scented lotion that had a light shimmer to it. You went to town manicuring your nails, curling your hair, and doing your makeup. You would have normally been tired of all this work, but this event was special for you. It was a chance to actually dress up for once and pamper yourself. 

You took your dress, carefully folding it over your arm. You took your heels in another hand, going out of your dorm and locking it. You headed the opposite direction of the hall towards Mattheo’s room.

Mattheo was in his dorm, getting ready for the party too. He was carefully putting on his tie in the mirror, making sure it was perfect. He looked himself over, admiring his reflection with a smirk. He heard a knock on the door, and he called out, “who is it?”

There were people starting to scurry around between dorms too, so it wasn’t out of place that you were standing outside of his. There was a small commotion downstairs as people made their way into the Slytherin common room meeting with their dates and friends.

“Matty, it's me. Open up, I'm here to fulfill my promise.” You couldn’t help but lightly laugh at the fact he wanted to make sure your dress was ‘appropriate’ enough.

He had been waiting for you to come by, “Oh, doll. You’re finally here, huh?” He made his way over to the door and opened it, revealing you there.

You push past Mattheo in order to enter his room. You didn’t bother waiting for permission to enter. You set your dress down on his bed, putting the heels on the floor.

Mattheo laughed, enjoying your eagerness to get ready for the party. He closed the door behind you, locking it to ensure privacy. “Someone’s in a hurry, aren’t we?” He teased watching you, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of your dress.

“I mean not anymore no, I was actually taking my sweet time.”

He sensed your annoyance immediately, “what did that jackass do?” Mattheo went to stand right behind you, trying to mask his rising anger at the possibilities. He took a strand of your hair, admiring how soft and perfect the curl was. It bounced lightly in his hand.

You shrug. “Charlie messaged me saying that he’ll be here in like two hours-” You weren’t able to hide your disappointment, especially with Mattheo who could read you easily even without legilimency. “-even though the party is basically starting now.”

Mattheo’s smirk faded as you mentioned that, looking away from your curl in his hand he scoffs, “two hours? Seriously? Isn’t he supposed to be your date? What’s his stupid excuse?”

“Beats me.” You turn around to face your best friend, you couldn’t help but let a smile erupt on your face as you really noticed him. “Mattheo..!” You whistled, “you clean up real good.”

Just that easily, his smirk returned, clearly enjoying your compliment. “Yeah, I know. I look damn good, don’t I?” He said just as cockily. He made a show of straightening out his tie and smoothing his hair down. He had already been pleased with how he looked, but it felt even better hearing it come out of your mouth.

He went with an all black outfit, even his shoes were surprisingly clean and polished. You reached out to him, putting your hands on his shoulders. You inspected his front, flipped him, checked out his back. His toned muscles were peeking out from under his dress shirt. It was amazing, his wide shoulders and small waist. His biceps were being contained just right. You smoothed the fabric down. You turned him to face you again, feeling proud. 

Mattheo had let you inspect him without a peep. Enjoying the way you ran your hands over his body, admiring every single detail of his outfit. He tried to act aloof and nonchalant, but he couldn’t help feeling flattered by your attention. “Having fun, are you? Admiring my good looks, princess?”

“Actually yes. I have nothing snarky to say.” You laugh, “okay okay maybe one-” Mattheo raised his eyebrows for you to continue, “-are you sure they didn’t have maybe a half size larger for your dress shirt? Or did you purposely go smaller? You look massive..” 

“Oh, shut up. This shirt looks perfect on me.” He wasn’t actually offended, he enjoyed the banter with you “…But yeah I did go for a smaller size. Clearly it was a good decision if I have your attention.” 

“Yeah yeah whatever.” You look at his hair, he had slicked it back, but you could still see the ends of his hair wanting to curl back. You loved his curly hair. He looked so…so hot right now. Thank God, you were starting to take those private occlumency lessons with Professor Snape so this idiot couldn’t read your mind. Plus you made him promise you to not enter your mind after a mishap two years ago.

He smiled as you noticed your gaze lingering on his hair. He ran a hand through his hair, slightly messing it up, causing some of the curls to revert back to their usual state. “What, you'd rather have my hair like this, huh?” 

“God, fuck yes. Mattheo thank you for doing that. It looks much more natural on you. The pomade does help define them much more though.” You smile up at him too, “anyway!” You turn back around to face your dress, but in reality you started to feel yourself blush like you were running a fever.

Mattheo noticed the hint of a blush appearing on your cheeks just before you turned away from him, “are you blushing? Is someone a little flustered, hmmm?” He teased.

You choose to ignore his comment. “I’m going to use your bathroom, I don’t trust you enough to just close your eyes for this.” You take your dress and heels into his bathroom and close the door quickly. 

With a pout, “Hey, I'm totally trustworthy! I swear I won't peek-” He began to say before hearing you lock the door. There was no point in protesting.

You undressed, leaving your pajamas on his bathroom floor. You slipped quickly yet carefully into the black satin dress. You had forgotten that it was a corset back and would need help clasping it together. You held the back together with your hands, admiring the vision. It was a long gown, with a slit running up your right leg and stopping just below your hip. You put on a matching black set of heels. You thought you looked very pretty, a rarity on your behalf. You made sure your hair and makeup were still fine. You went to crack open the bathroom door, taking a deep breath, still holding the back of the dress together with a single hand so it wouldn’t slip off. “Matty?”

Mattheo was already waiting patiently outside of the bathroom door, drumming his fingers on the wall as he tried to ignore the image of you undressing just on the other side. He perked up when he heard your voice calling out from behind the door, a smile reappeared on his face. “Yes, doll? You done yet?” He was unable to keep the eagerness out of his tone, so he went and put his hand around the door, trying to make you open it wider so he could see all of you.

“I actually need your help…” You let him open the door, “I forgot this was a corset, and not a zip up. I need you to clap me in.” You laugh, “I mean clasp.”

He laughed at your little Freudian slip, he was amused at how you got those two words confused. He wondered what you really wanted, but he also pushed that thought back too. He raised a single eyebrow as he took in the sight of you. His eyes widening in surprise at how stunning you looked. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and the split on the right leg gave him a glimpse of your smooth skin. “Damn princess, you look…beautiful.” He said this, his voice growing a bit huskier as he approached you. He pulled you by your waist so you would come out of the bathroom and into the well lit bedroom instead. 

“Thank you…I think so too..” You blushed as he complimented you, letting him pull you closer to him. Mattheo turned you over so your back was turned toward him.

“I’m very happy you think the same.” He gently gathered your hair, pulling it to one side so it was out of the way.

“It might be a little tricky.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I can handle it.” He moved your hands out of the way, so the dress split open, stopping at the small of your back. You held the front of the dress up to keep it from falling. Mattheo nearly started to salivate at the sight of your bare back to him, how it exposed more of your skin to him, he was loving the view. He hated having to fasten you into the dress instead of just slipping it off and skipping the party. Mattheo mentally slapped himself, to stop thinking about you in that way.

“Everything okay?” You say, feeling a bit self conscious as Mattheo paused for a moment. He cleared his throat. He started at the bottom of the corset, fastening you in carefully. His hands graze your bare skin occasionally, sending shivers down your spine. He made sure to not pull too tightly, asking you throughout the process if it was enough. “I don’t know if I should be mad or grateful that you know how to do this.” You close your eyes at the feeling of him working on you.

“Why would you be mad? I have a lot of hidden talents.” He finished up the corset, taking a step back to admire his handiwork, “there we go. Looks good and perfect…and secure.”

You let your hands fall to the side, trusting that it wouldn’t fall down now. You gave a small twirl to Mattheo, ending it with a curtsey. He kept a smile at you, his eyes turning a shade darker. You look at the mirror admiring how you looked now that you were finished. You readjusted your hair. “So I'm assuming that this dress is appropriate enough for this event…for you?”

“Appropriate? You look amazing. You’re going to put every other witch at this party to shame. You look like a true goddamn princess, one that I want all to myself.”

You felt your heart skip at his words, it felt different. It was all you could ever ask from him, God if only he liked me back, you thought. If only he wasn’t just saying this because he was your best friend. You go to wrap your arms around him, giving him a tender hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist in return, pulling you tighter into him. Mattheo closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his. Your sweet scent was driving him crazy. 

He buried his face in your hair, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within him. There was no denying how much he cared for you, but he was still struggling to acknowledge his true feelings for you. 

You gave his biceps a gentle squeeze, pulling back, “shall we head down?” You smile at him.

He nods in agreement, returning your smile with a smirk of his own. “It’ll be an honor…and respecfully, fuck your ‘date’ for not being here, but also I wouldn’t want it any other way. To just walk you down, is an honor in itself.” Mattheo held his arm for you to take, offering to escort you to the party downstairs.

You roll your eyes, but you don't want to admit that you agree with him. You started to have your own doubts about Charlie, maybe it was kind of stupid to think…you could..fall in love with someone else. You had to at least give him a chance..right? You ended up taking Mattheo’s arm, linking elbows, while you placed your other hand on his forearm.

Mattheo could sense your uncertainty in your date, he wanted to just flat out tell you again that he wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t wait to rub it in your face, but deep down he didn’t want to see you hurt. He covered your hand with his own. He was cherishing this moment, feeling a small sense of triumph.

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

The party was already in full motion by the time you went down the stairs. People were going around laughing and dancing. The refreshment table was already nearly half way empty. You had to wonder if people showed up earlier than expected out of the excitement. You felt people stare at you and Mattheo. His grip on you was gentle, yet firm and possessive. Mattheo himself could feel, and see the envy, coming off the people as their eyes roamed over you. You could say the same thing, but you thought the looks were because you had Mattheo’s attention, and he was dressed up as well.

You both walked over to the drink table, each of you grabbing a glass of whatever was closest, “cheers to a good evening.”

He clicked his drink to yours, “Cheers.” He tilted the drink into his mouth, still scanning the party as he did so. He was mentally taking note of those eyes that lingered on you for too long.

“Mattheo, I know this is supposed to be a party…but can I ask a lesson from you right now?” You ask, setting down your empty glass. Already feeling the warmth from the drink start to take effect.

With an eyebrow raised again, intrigued by the idea of teaching you something in this setting, “A lesson, huh? Sure what do you want to learn?”

“Can you teach me how to dance?” You blush, “I know just how ridiculous that sounds but I usually just sit around and smoke at parties…so this feels new.”

He laughed, but not in a mean way. He found it surprisingly cute how you requested this, especially considering your usual party habits. “It’s not ridiculous at all. I'd be happy to teach you.” He held out his hand to you, gesturing for you to take it. “May I have this dance?”

You took his hand, “I like this version of Mattheo, so elegant and charming.” You cooed playfully, following him onto the dance floor.

“Careful doll, compliment me too much and I might start to think you actually like me. Romantically.” He teased, unable to resist throwing a playful jab.

You couldn’t say anything to that, you only blushed further, if only you knew how much I really liked you Mattheo, so ironic of you to say that.

Mattheo was loving the effect his words had on you, “What, lost for words now? Something tells me there’s no comeback for that one?”

“So…so what’s the first step?” You change the subject back to the lesson on dancing.

He shook his head, but understood you wanting to change the subject. “First step to the classic ballroom position - holding each other firmly.” He adjusted his grip on your waist and took your hand in his, positioning you in the correct dance position. 

“Okay, easy enough.” You looked into his eyes, one hand on his shoulder. “I swear I was probably born with eight left feet, I’ve never thought to dance.”

He chuckled again, finding your honesty endearing. “Don’t worry, princess. You’re in good hands. Just follow my lead, okay? We’ll start with the basic steps. First, step backward with your left foot as I step forward with my right.” He gently guided your movements, slowly moving in unison with him.

You couldn’t help but look down at your feet as he began to show you more steps. You started to get the hang of it, only after a couple accidental steps on his own feet. Though you didn’t apologize so much since he was finding it so fun to tease you earlier. 

Mattheo was just so stricken with you, he would only chuckle and sigh as each time you stepped on him, finding your clumsiness adorable. “Thanks for ruining my shoes.”

“I’m doing it on purpose at this point.” You look back at him smiling. He feigned a look of shock, pretending to be offended.

“Ah so you’re doing it intentionally? That’s playing dirty, doll.” He spun you around before bringing you close to him. You rested your head on his chest, you could finally reach it comfortably with the height the heels gave you. You closed your eyes, listening to his heart.

His breath hitched, he liked the feeling of you being so close to him. The way your body fit against his perfectly. He dug his fingers deeper into your sides as he dipped you backwards, using it as an excuse to get even closer. His face was dangerously close to yours.

You forgot how to breathe for a second as you watched Mattheo. You noticed a slight change in him, something only you could notice. He had gotten…nervous. He pulled you both up right again. When he did this you noticed Charlie standing behind him, clearing his throat. “Sorry for being late… My roommate had an urgent matter. I came as fast as I could.”

Mattheo’s body tensed as he heard Charlie’s voice behind him. His grip on you tightened, protectiveness seeping into his touch as he reluctantly pulled you back away from him. He hated that he actually ended up showing, having to interrupt the moment he was sharing with you. He plastered a fake smile on his face as he turned to face Charlie, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Ah Charlie. Finally decided to grace us with your presence huh?”

Your date gave Mattheo a confused look, he didn’t seem to really be intimidated by him. Which made sense, if he even had made the effort to ask you out on this date knowing full well he would have to face The Mattheo Riddle. A fact other guys were immediately put off by. “Yeaahh..” He scratched the back of his head, “um thanks for keeping Y/N company for me.” He let out a small laugh, offering his arm to you just as Mattheo had done.

Mattheo didn’t bother hiding his annoyance at Charlie’s casual demeanor, especially as he offered his arm to you. His jaw clenched visibly, fighting the urge to snap at him. He kept his composure the best he could, maintaining the strained yet police facade. “No problem.” He said tersely, his gaze flickering between you and Charlie with a hint of possessiveness.

Almost reluctantly you go to take Charlie’s arm. He smiled down at you, he brought forward his other arm that was hidden behind his back this whole time. “I brought this for you…” it was a single rose. 

You smiled while taking it, “thank you, this is beautiful.” You look back at Mattheo, “I’ll talk to you later? Enjoy yourself Matty.”

Oh how Mattheo wanted to bash at Charlie’s face with his fists. He watched as you thanked him for the rose, his eyes darkened with jealousy and frustration, that wasn’t even your favorite flower, not even in your favorite color. How could some jackass not bother to learn what your favorite flower and color was. He wanted to tear you away from him.

“Yeah, enjoy yourself man. Thanks again for warming her up for me.” Charlie said to Mattheo, pulling you away from where you were originally dancing. You let him guide you away, but couldn’t help looking back, seeing that Mattheo was already facing his back towards you both. You looked down as his fists were clenched, knuckles turning white. You couldn’t help but feel guilt. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Charlie was just like a prince, he was actually really sweet and thoughtful past the lateness. Plus, his excuse made you think that he was loyal to those he cares about, to tend to their needs first than his. You both had danced to a couple of songs (thanks to Mattheo for teaching you). It was fun. Whenever Charlie spun you around or hugged you close to him, you couldn't help but look around for Mattheo subtly. You saw him enjoying himself, he was talking to a couple of girls.

In reality Mattheo’s eyes scanned the room for you as well, he would only pretend to focus on the conversation he was having with the girls. Barely making an effort, and yet they were in hysterics laughing. It kind of annoyed him how easy it was. His focus kept drifting to your location. He hated seeing you with Charlie. He hated seeing you in someone else’s arms, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Not yet, at least.

Between songs Charlie would grab a drink, and it was starting to really add up. He began to get sloppy and step on your toes. He’d apologize but do it immediately after. You stopped dancing, telling him that you both should just sit down for a while. So you guided him to an empty couch.

Mattheo watched as you and Charlie made your way to the couch, a mix of relief and frustration coursing through his veins. Finally there was some distance between the two of you, but he didn’t like that your date was making a fool of himself as he kept drinking. He was leaning against a wall, keeping a watchful eye on you from afar. The girls by his side kept rambling and rambling and he was only paying attention to you, scoffing at the state Charlie was in. It was getting ridiculous. The girls rolled their eyes at Mattheo, hating that he wasn’t engaging in the conversation so they left him.

As the night went on, you began to like Charlie less and less. The more his drinking caught up to him, the more he just seemed like an idiot. It was quite the change. The first half of the night with him was great, he was able to hold a solid conversation just like normal. He would ask about you, wanting to learn about what you were into, but now he kept going in circles. He would only talk about himself, it got boring. Fast. 

Charlie’s drunken behavior was becoming more apparent, he was slurring his words and regressing into mindless rambling. Mattheo clenched his jaw as he saw you grow more disinterested in your date by the second. It was clear you were bored and fed up. He was tempted to intervene, to find a way to end this date early. But he also wanted to teach you a lesson. That you were supposed to really be with him, and not some dumbass, especially one who couldn’t handle his alcohol.

You were getting embarrassed, people must have thought it was weird that Mattheo and you arrived at the party together and now you were with other people. You knew this by the curious glances they were making at me. They probably couldn’t help but wonder about the dynamic we held.

A pretty blonde girl went up to Mattheo, blocking his view of you, “Hi..I couldn't help but notice you almost…sulking in this corner…can I ask for a dance?”

He gave her a lazy smirk, looking her up and down before responding, “sure, why not.” He pushed himself off the wall, downing the rest of his drink before offering his hand to the girl.

You continued to sit there bored, your chin resting on your hand. The major downside to people not wearing uniforms was that you didn’t know who belonged to which house. You wished you could just dump him with someone that would know him. 

As you look around you notice Mattheo dancing with a girl, it wasn’t the type of dance he had taught you. It was the kind that would be best suited for our regular ‘trashy’ parties. 

Mattheo’s smirk wavered slightly as the girl pressed herself up against him, grinding against his lap shamelessly as they danced to the music. He chuckled quietly to himself, amused by her boldness. He ran his hands down her sides, fingers lingering on her hips. His gaze wandered over to you, his expression faltering slightly when he noticed how bored and annoyed you appeared to be.

You notice Mattheo make eye contact with you, you give him a friendly wave, watching him handle the girl. You turn away before scowling to yourself.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” Charlie breathed out, his hot breath bitter from the alcohol. He leaned over the couch to put his face between your neck. You shrugged him away uncomfortably. This didn’t stop him though, he gently put a hand on your jaw, making you look at him “pay attention.” It was major deja vu, but with the wrong person. Very wrong person. Charlie leaned in to kiss you, but you quickly stood up leaving the rose he gave you on the seat. He kept leaning to the point he just ended up face planting onto the couch seat.

As Mattheo danced with the girl, he happened to look back up at you, catching it in time when Charlie tried to kiss you. His fingers dug into the girl’s hips as he felt anger and jealousy. The girl let out a small moan. “Ouch Mattheo. Give me a warning next time.” 

The drunken fool didn’t deserve to touch you like that. He stopped letting the girl grind on him for a moment, but then he noticed how you got up not letting him finish that kiss. He laughed to himself. The girl looked behind at him confused, but she turned around to wrap her arms around his neck, rubbing her breasts against his chest now. “Unless you want to take this upstairs?” she said, trying to get his attention again.

You walked over to the refreshment table, not caring one bit about leaving Charlie behind after that stunt. He could fend for himself. Thank God there was still some weed left, thank you Hufflepuffs! You thought, kissing the air. You set down a paper, neatly tucking in the weed, carefully licking it shut. As you did, you watched Mattheo. At least one of us was having a good night.

“Maybe later, sweetheart.” Mattheo said to the girl, he didn’t care for her advances at all, but he just wanted to play along. He responded with a sly smile as she rubbed against him. 

You looked back down at the fairly fat joint you made, you wanted to light it but you felt guilty. You wanted to get high with your best friend. It was so fun last time. You tucked the joint behind your ear, preparing another one for him. We would have to get high on a different day. With the two joints, you moved them into your corset, just on the side of your boob as you had no pocket or bag with you. You looked toward the drink table, considering but being put off with how it made Charlie. You still grabbed a drink just to hold onto and not look awkward. 

Mattheo caught you putting what seemed like joints into your dress, he smiled knowing you were probably thinking about him. His attention was divided between the blonde girl and you. He smirked to himself, seeing your disapproving face when you went to grab a drink. He found your sudden dislike of alcohol funny. 

You stood there with your drink, not taking a sip out of it. You just bumped your head to the music. You noticed Theodore and made your way over to him. “Hey Teddy, I’ve got to give it to you. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. You did great.” 

He smiled at your compliment, he took a sip of his own drink before responding and gesturing around the room that was filled with students dancing, chatting, drinking, and just having fun. “I know, thanks for your help with finishing it. I’m glad everyone is enjoying themselves…” He hesitated a moment, “but you seem a bit…bored. Where’s your date?”

You just pointed behind yourself with your thumb, “ick.”

Theo laughed at your bluntness, looking over at Charlie’s direction. He was still sitting alone on the couch, face in his hands, “dumbass can’t handle his alcohol? And Mattheo?” You pointed in the other direction. He let his smile falter a bit, knowing his friend was just using the girl. “Ah~ so can I have a dance with you then? You look amazing.” He looked you up and down.

You nod, putting your glass down, and taking a step close to Theo. You put your hands on Theo’s shoulders, as he put his on your waist. You swayed to the music as it changed to a slower song. You put your head on his chest as you did with Mattheo. You let out a small sigh that was concealed with the music, you were definitely going to get an earful later. 

You both danced to a couple of songs, before you pulled away from him, “thank you for dancing with me. I think I'm going to retire for the night. My feet are killing me…though I liked dressing up, I’d rather stick to sneakers.” You laugh straightening out Theo’s tie and collar.

“Of course, any time. I’m sorry your date kind of ruined your night, but you really do look gorgeous tonight, cara mia.” He looked down at you, his tone sincere.

Giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek, “goodnight Teddy.” You made your way up the stairs back to the dormitories. As you go up, you look down at the party once more. Charlie was just now sleeping on the couch, you rolled your eyes. Mattheo had his face buried in the blonde girl’s hair. You sighed. Mattheo’s dorm room was closer to the stairs so you made your way over to his room, your pajamas were still in there. With your luck he had not locked his door. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on you as you went into his room, he couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought. It sent a thrill through him. His mind started to wonder, why you decided to go in there instead of your room. 

When you stepped in his room, you breathed in deeply. It had such an intoxicating scent. Sometimes you went nose blind to Mattheo’s smell, but being in his room where it was the most concentrated almost made your brain fuzz. You went into his bathroom, looked at yourself in the mirror, man what a wasted outfit.

He couldn’t wait any longer, the thought of you inside there by yourself was driving him crazy. He pushed the blonde girl to the side, mumbling an excuse about needing some air. He made his way towards the stairs, shoving people to the side, determined to get to his room as quickly as possible. As he entered inside, he noticed the bathroom light on, the door cracked open.

Bending down to pick up your pajamas that you left on the floor. You debated on changing out of your dress, but knew just how long it would take if you were to do it by yourself. You would need to wait for Mattheo, but you also didn’t want to be in his room if he decided to bring that girl up here for the night. You notice one of his shirts on the floor too, you picked it up. You wanted to smell it. Fucking weirdo, don’t do it. Do it. Don’t do -

Mattheo pushed open the door quietly, peering inside to see you holding one of his shirts in your hands. You jumped at the sound, “oh my god, shit!” You dropped the shirt back on the floor along with your pajamas.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with a smirk, “you didn’t expect me to find you in my dorm, love?” He laughed sarcastically.

You peaked behind him trying to see if he brought the girl over after all, “no I didn’t..I thought you were still going to be downstairs. I was just getting my pajamas and shoes.”

The smirk on his face widened as he noticed you peering behind him, he laughed and shook his head, “I got tired of dancing with her. She’s a little too clingy for my taste.”

“Yeah? Well at least you didn’t have to endure a drunk.” You go to pick your pajamas again. You make your way to his desk to take off your heels. His eyes looked at your legs. There was a pause between you two. “Go on Mattheo, rub it in my face.” You huffed, rubbing your feet, closing your eyes, “let’s get it over with.”

“Oh, princess, if you insist.” He moved closer to you, standing behind you. He leaned down, bringing his face close to your ear, his breath against your neck. “I told you so.”

You kept your eyes shut, clenching them a bit hard. “T-that’s all you got?”

He brushed a strand of your hair from your face, his fingers tracing down the side of your neck. His tone was low and husky as he spoke into your ear “Oh, you know I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Want me to teach you another lesson?”

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, your heart took a leap.

It was now or never for Mattheo. “For not listening to me.” He firmly grabbed your wrist making you stand up from the seat. He instead took you place, he sat down looking at you expectantly as you were now standing by his side.

“Mattheo…what do you mean?” You almost stammered on your own words. 

“It’s a yes or a no, darling. Do you want me to teach you a lesson? I am your tutor after all, right?”

“-and best friend.” You looked at him, still very much confused, but you felt a sense of excitement of the unknown. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbow carefully as you thought it over. Why is he being so…so.. “Yes.” You blurted.

“Good girl, this is the lesson I’m going to teach you. It’s going to be about listening to me, because I know what’s right for you. The first part is having you admit to yourself that I was right and you were wrong. I don't want to have to tell you. You tell me instead…go on.” In a quick motion he brought you down and bent over on his lap. You didn’t have enough time to react to what was going on, but your heart was starting to race. You could feel one of his hands rubbing your ass just above the thin satin fabric of your dress. You turned to look back at him, and he was staring at your ass, but had to quickly meet your eye. “Go on.” He gave your left cheek a rough squeeze.

You closed your eyes, before opening them and answering. “Mattheo you were right. I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” He said, squeezing your ass again, then tracing a single finger along the slit of your dress. Touching the smooth skin of your thigh.

“About my date…I was dumb to think it was going to be an amazing date. But it wasn’t.” You sighed both at the turn of events with Charlie, and because of Mattheo’s touch.

“And I warned you, didn't I? That you could be with someone so much better than him, didn’t I?” He nearly spat out the last words in emphasis. Squeezing your ass harder this time, his nails are able to dig into you through the dress. 

You don’t respond, you’re too focused on his touch. How he was handling you. Your thought process was going in about a thousand different directions right now. When Mattheo didn’t hear you he swiftly pulled your dress over to the side by the slit, exposing your ass to him. You stopped breathing. He sucked in air through his teeth at the sight of your perky round ass in a black little lacey thong. He gave you a sharp smack on your ass, you yelped not expecting it. “I asked you a question, darling.”

“I uh…Yes. Yes Mattheo, you warned me. You did warn me that I could be with someone better.” You whined as he smoothed out the area he just hit.

“Have I ever done wrong by you?” SMACK! He hit the other cheek this time. You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop you from crying out loud, but he quickly pushed it away from your face so you could answer him.

“No..y-you haven’t.”

“Then why didn't you listen to me?” SMACK! You cried out again as he hit you. Again he rubbed it out.

“I- I…don’t-” you began to say - SMACK!

“Does he know the reasons why you cry?”

You opened your mouth to try and respond but was spanked again.

“Does he know what makes you laugh?” 

SMACK! 

Your legs were starting to tremble due to the mix of pain…pleasure…the excitement of it all. It was so confusing. Well it wasn’t confusing to see Mattheo so angry, but towards you it was new. It was turning you on, and you knew he was enjoying himself too. Not only because he did enjoy inflicting pain onto others, but because you were starting to feel him get hard from underneath you. His dick was poking up into your stomach. You were sure the pressure of your weight on him was sending him over the edge. You looked back at him, biting your lip. He just looked down at you, quite darkly. His hand was removed from your ass, leaving it red and hot. Surely there was bruising and welts from his work. 

Mattheo’s lips twisted upwards in a smile. Then pulled your hair back, twisting it around his hand. This causes you to strain your head backwards. He bent down to whisper against your neck, kissing it. “I can promise you this, no one is ever going to make you feel the same as I will. I’ll do anything for you.”

You nod, your eyes going wide at his confession. You were about to respond to him but once again you were silenced when he let go of your hair, and pushed your head back down. His hands went over your sore ass and and he hooked his fingers around your panties, shimmying them down your thighs and off of you. He stealthily stored them in his pants pocket. 

You felt a cool breeze as you were exposed to him now. Especially because of your growing wetness, which Mattheo could now see. “M-Mattheo… can I please speak now?”

He shook his head, “Not now, darling.” He leaned to the side, putting one hand on each ass cheek. His gaze quickly looked over at you, your head was still hanging down. He returned to what he was doing, and he slowly spread your ass, showing himself your pussy. He groaned at the sight. He smirked, liking that you were enjoying this treatment. “Fuck, baby. It’s so pretty.”

You couldn’t help yourself, but at his words you arched your back to further show yourself to him. You felt your face get hot, this was Mattheo. Once a stranger. Once your tutor. Now your best friend. The guy you’ve developed a massive crush on. He chuckled at your action, he was so tempted to break the promise you had in regards to him trying to read your mind. He wanted to know what you were thinking of all this.

“I promise you won’t need him after this, ever. You will never think about him ever again. Only me.”

Mattheo crept his fingers closer to your heat, so he could spread it further. You scrunch your eyes closed as he was getting closer to where you wanted to be touched. God you wanted to be handled like this by Mattheo for so long. So many nights you had spent alone in your dorm touching yourself and imagining it was him. You wondered if he ever had those moments (he definitely did). You were snapped out of that thought when you heard him spit onto your cunt, you felt it tickle into your hole. 

“Go on, say my name, Doll. I want to hear my name coming from your lips.”

“Mattheo..” You breathed out shakily. “Shit mattheo… please touch me.”

SMACK! That was all your plea earned you, another slap on your ass, “You don't get to order me around…but alas I was going to regardless. You’re so impatient.” He ran two fingers along your wet folds, smirking at the idea that his spit was just sitting inside of you currently. 

“M-m-matty.” you moaned out. He was a sucker whenever you called him that, so he dipped a finger into your core. You moaned out again, especially when he began to probe around feeling your gummy ribbed walls. You reflexively clenched around his finger. He breathed out, imagining how it must feel around his cock. He curled his finger inside of you. “More-more please.” 

He sighed, with his free hand he grabbed your hair in his fist, “stop telling me what to do.” Once again, despite his words he still gave you what you wanted. He pulled out his first finger, just to shove two back in afterwards. 

“Oh my god.” You moaned out. He smiled, moving his fingers deeper inside you. Your precious little cunt was making unholy sounds from how wet you were. Mattheo loved the sound of it, he could tell that his dick was just leaking with precum. He didn’t know how much longer he could take. 

Mattheo was just being relentless with his pace, fingering you. He tried holding you down by leaning on you with his body weight, but you were wiggling too much from pleasure. You felt like you were about to cum. But he would sometimes take his fingers out just to spread the wetness around your lips, massaging it in before continuing. It was driving you absolutely nuts. Eventually you were able to reach your high, cumming down his fingers. He sighed, just as satisfied with the sight of your slightly creamy cum that was now going down your thighs when he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Princess…I really like you, you know? Like really like you. I’m not just saying this…for what we’re doing.. And sorry for a lack of better words..I can’t- I can’t think straight right now. I just want to bury my dick deep inside your pussy.”

“Don’t worry…Matty..” You tried to catch your breath, trying to bring your heart rate down. Mattheo helped you turn around and sit on his lap, making you straddle him. You looked down to his lips, smashing them with yours. The kiss was hungry. Each of you kept biting the other. Mattheo with his clean hand turned your head to the side, kissing and biting down your neck. “I like you too…I have for a while now.. I just..I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Mattheo looked up at you, as you admitted back to him. He was relieved you felt the same. He smiled sweetly at you, your usual best friend peeking out for a moment. He hated that he kept you waiting for so long as he sorted through his own feelings for you, and it only took some jackass taking you out as a date for him to learn this. Just as you had been, he was ripped out of that thought when he saw that you took the hand that he used to finger you, putting the two fingers inside your mouth. Cleaning yourself from him. 

“Oh fuck, darling.” his jaw hung low, groaning with the sight. His eyes glued to where the two digits were disappearing between your lips. He took another sharp inhale, unable to tear his gaze away. He pulled them out of your mouth, leaving a trail of spit to fall onto your chin. He tried to regain his authority, he cleared his throat, “W-What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Can I please suck your cock?” You smiled sweetly at him again, batting your eyelashes. 

He breathed out, his voice low and almost hoarse as he spoke, his words coming out in short bursts “n-no princess. I’m trying to teach you a lesson. You’re supposed to be good and pay attention to what I'm doing.”

“Okay Mattheo…sure.” You agreed to play along. He put his arms around you, lifting you up easily. He got out of the seat and walked over to his bed, setting you down in front of it. He turned you around so your back was towards him and he pushed you down onto the bed. Keeping your head flat against his comforter with one hand. You inhaled, taking in his scent from his sheets. You let out a small moan.

He knew what you were doing, “for your information…I knew you wanted to sniff my dirty shirt that I left in my bathroom. You freak.” He brought up how he caught you when he returned back to his dorm after the party. He couldn’t resist a little banter despite how heated things were getting between you and him. 

“Shaddup!” You said muffled from your head being pinned down. You felt him move your dress to the side, tucking it under your hip, making sure it was out of the way, “do you want to help me remove this…?”

He smiled at you again, shaking his head, “no..I actually want to fuck you in your dress. You look too beautiful in it to let it go to waste. A real princess.” You couldn't help but love the sweetness in that. He momentarily let go of your head, so he could unzip his pants and pull it down. He also took off his dress shirt, exposing his toned torso and abs. He used his knee to open your legs apart further, he pumped himself a few times, needing to feel some relief already. “Spread yourself to me.” He commanded bringing your hands to your ass. You did what you were told, you arched your back again, spreading your pussy for him. You felt Mattheo rub the tip of his dick around your wet entrance, then rubbing it around your clit before using his full length to use your wetness to lubricate himself. 

You wanted to turn around to look at it, you wanted to see if you could take him. You always wondered what he was packing. You wanted to know how long it was, how thick it was, what color it was, how it would feel inside of you. You were feeling a slight headache, then the realization hit you. You were going to stand straight up when he pushed you down again, “Mattheo!”

 “Okay okay..i’m sorry. I know I promised, but I wanted to know what you were thinking.” He said not so guilty. “Buuuuut know that I know.. I want you to see me fucking you. I need to see your pretty face-” He turned you around, lifting you so that you were now sitting forward, facing him on the side of the bed. He was smirking when he brought over a pillow to put just underneath the small of your back. He pulled you by your waist so your ass was barely hanging out of the edge, it was a perfect height to his hips, “-I need to see how you look when you take me.” He pulled your legs so that they were resting on his shoulders. 

Fuuuuck. You thought as you looked down at his twitching dick. He was so big and girthy. His cock slightly tanner than the rest of him, his tip as pink as his lips. God the lips you stared at all the time, day to day. You felt nervous, he would definitely be the biggest you’ve taken. You felt a ringing in your ear again. You rolled your eyes, knowing he was reading your mind again.

“I know you can take me, sweetheart. You’ve done everything I’ve taught you so well.” Mattheo stroked the side of your face gently, with warm eyes. You couldn’t fathom the duality of this man. He was doing this while his other hand was adjusting his dick to your entrance, carefully dipping the tip into you. 

You looked down away from his face to watch him enter you. “Please take it slow…I’m-”

“There’s no reason to be scared, of course I will take it slow.” He said this, but hated it. He just wanted to fuck you senseless. He looked away from your face, looking at your pussy. He tried pushing himself in slowly, but you were not letting him in. “You're so tense, please relax for me.” He moved over to suck on his thumb before moving it to your clit and rubbing slow lazy circles, earning him a moan from you. He smiled, continuing his work. He wasn’t even trying his best and you were already shaking again.

“Matty… I think..I think-”

“Oh no you’re not.” He stopped just as you were about to come to your next high. “Next time you cum, it’ll have to be on my dick.” 

You whined and wiggled against him. He took this opportunity and really pushed himself, leaning down into you. You held him by his shoulders, biting him on his bicep. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer into you. All you felt was pain at first, and he wasn’t even moving yet too. You said a silent prayer to yourself.

“Shit. You’re so tight. When was the last time you were fucked…? Actually please don’t tell me I don't want to think about another person doing this to you.” He said one hand on your waist, the other on your hip, pulling you closer so he could really be balls deep into you. He tried not to get angry at the thought. “It feels so good, damn. So warm. Baby, can I start moving?”

You felt so full. So very full with him all the way inside you. You felt his cock twitch impatiently just as you had been earlier, maybe more. You felt bad for Mattheo, you also wanted him to feel good, but it was almost unbearable. You nod, “you can Matty.”

His eyes snapped up at yours. He didn’t like your uncertainty, but he really needed to feel relief. He almost felt sorry for you, but he was way too horny to fully care and to just pull out to make you suck him off. “I’m sorry Princess…I’ve been wanting and needing you like this so fucking bad.” He began to pull his hips back little by little, going in and out of you. He sighed, moving your legs back up on his shoulders, he kissed your leg.

“No, dont app-” You gasped when he slapped his hips against you, “-ologize. I-I want to make you feel good too. I want you to use me…” He smiled at your words, despite your not so hidden worries. You were a fool for him, and he loved it. He loved it because he was a fool for you too.

While you loved watching him fuck you, loved hearing his grunts and sighs. It was still so much for you. You turn your face away from him, biting on your finger. The other hand, covering your face. When you were just focusing on just the physical, not the visual it helped relax you. The pain began to disappear, especially once you started to get used to his size and the pace. Mattheo was definitely stretching you out. You whimper at the thought, at the pleasure that was starting to hit you like a pulsing wave.

“W-why are you hiding your face?” He grunts, slowing his movement, “Don’t hide it, I want to see your expression.” He pulls your hand away from you. His eyes widened when he saw your cheeks were stained by your tears. He completely stops, midway pulling out. “Princess, are you alright? Am I hurting you?! Oh my god you should have told me if I was-”

“No please- please don't stop. It just feels that good.” You reassure him by pulling yourself forward so that his cock would reenter you. You went back to biting your finger to hold back your cry.

Mattheo smiles at you, a sense of relief rushing through him. His smile turns into a smug look. “You’re still so pretty when you cry. You scared me.” He leaned back down, licking the tears off your cheeks, not minding the salty taste one bit. He moved to suck on your neck, he pulled your other hand down that you were biting on. “You sound so beautiful too, especially when your cries are just for me. Don't hold them back. I want to hear how you feel about me, how I'm making you feel..”

“Matty, please just keep fucking me.” You moan out, moving your hips against him.

“As you wish, just don't tell me off later if you can’t walk. You asked for this.” His smirk and cockiness returned. He pulled your legs forward so that they were being pressed up against your chest, really exposing your pussy to him. He didn’t hold back anymore. 

“Yes mattheo, I’ll tell you again that you were right. That you’re always right. I will always listen to you.” You moan out, knowing he loves the sense of control. You arched your back off the bed, so he would keep hitting your sweet spot directly. You felt your eyes lul back. You tried to keep your eyes open to watch him slamming his dick into your sweet sopping wet cunt. Each time he pulled out of you, his own member glistened.

“That’s my fucking girl. You’re taking me so well.” He spread your legs away from your chest so he could lean back into you once more, he kissed your forehead. “Oh this - s is this is so frea k…freaking ba-bad” He began to get sloppy with his movements. He wrapped both of his hands around your throat, to choke you and also to steady himself. 

“You’re cock feels so good inside me Matty, so good. It feels so euphoric, it’s so filling.” You choked out through his grip around your neck. You saw him look down at your pussy again. He let go one hand and pressed down just under your belly button. “Fucking shit Ma-Mah-Mattheo.”

When he did this, he saw the way your own pussy was gripping onto him, he smiled at the sight. “You’re being so greedy now aren’t you? You just can't enough huh? You like me treating you like this, you’re so dirty.”

You keep moaning his name, not being about to think about anything but how he was fucking you so well. Just as you had always imagined and wanted. You were just so focused on the pressure he was creating in your belly, the all too familiar twisting and knotting as you felt getting closer.

“Shiiiit~ your pussy is suffocating my dick darlin’. Are you about to come around me? Am I making you feel that amazing? Please don't hold back now, I'm all for it.” He moved his hand back to paying attention to your clit, but he paused before continuing his motion much more slowly. “Are..are you on any birth control?”

“What?” You were kind of dumbfounded, he asks this now? He just stares back expectantly. “Yeah I am..” You kind of gave him an attitude because he was denying your next orgasm with this sudden questioning. 

He squinted a bit, “why?”

“Matt- what? Just what? My periods hurt like hell and this is what helps me dur-” 

“Can I creampie you then?” He nonchalantly says interrupting you, returning his attention back to your clit, smiling.

You throw your head back, you were slowly but surely returning to the state you were in before he suddenly stopped. 

“I asked you a question… Please don't make me ask again..” He said, closing his eyes, needing to know your answer before he thrusted faster. He needed to know what to do now that he was getting close. God he hoped you would say yes. Mattheo wanted to see your little cunt filled up with his cum. He wanted to see it drip out of you..He looked at you realizing you had been shaking from sheer pleasure. The reason why you weren’t answering him was because you had came around him without him fully realizing it while in his own thoughts. 

“Mattheo..” 

He looked at you quite lovingly, tucking your hair back into place, “I’m right here.” He gently taps on your cheek, trying to pull you from your trance, “I’m right here, open your eyes. Look at me.” You open your eyes slowly to him, giving him a fucked out smile. He smiled back at you, “that’s my girl.”

“...yes fill me up with your cum. It’ll be an honor.” 

With that he did not need to be told twice, his smile widened. He kissed you on the lips before ramming himself back into you. He still didn’t give up on the attention he was giving your clit. It was starting to ache by how overstimulated you were. It was so red and swollen. There was no way in hell you were going to tell him to stop. He was just using you like a toy at this point, and you were loving it. He had your legs pressed together and to your chest again, you were hugging them for dear life. You kept calling his name, begging him to fill you. “Princess, I love you so much..I lovee - I love yo u.” He stammered out “I love you..m-more than anyone i n my l-life.” He shook, and stayed still a moment as he came.

“I love you too.” You said, a little sadly as he pulled out of you. He gave you another kiss on the lips, before just peppering your face with kisses.

“You’ve always been mine, you know that right?”

“Mhmm” You close your eyes. 

He sighs contently, kneeling a bit. He watched as his cum started to be squeezed out of you. He thought he would love it, but he just wanted it to stay inside of you. He brought his two fingers to your hole, scooping up the cum that escaped and pressing it back into you. He curled his fingers once more, starting to pump in and out carefully. You moaned out, grabbing his wrist. You opened your eyes and he was already looking into yours. He smiled his devilish smile. Oh fuck…

“Yeah, I'm not done with you just yet, princess.”

With that it was like he was trying making up for lost time with you.~

[suosgirl]

How do you think the reader’s relationship with Suo both meeting while she’s out to get food for her and her sister. She’s genuinely kind and caring overall like Tanjiro from kny. How do you think they’ll get together? She’s helpful and won’t hesitate to protect those in need especially her younger siblings. She’s got a strong sense of smell acknowledging how others feel. Ty!

A To-Go Order (& Missing Utensils) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 1233

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. very brief mentions of Haruka Sakura and Akihiko Nirei (when are they not, let's be so honest)

୨ৎ Song Inspiration: Hypotheticals by Lake Street Drive

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, fluff, f!reader, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), swearing – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: Ahh ty for the request my dearest anon! I am going to be so honest – I have never watched Demon Slayer/Kimetsu no Yaiba (and I’m so embarrassed bc I just saw the latest like animated arc and it looks so good) BUT that doesn’t mean I’m not familiar with the character! I hope I do your request justice ahhhh!!! And I'm so sorry this took so long ahhhh!! Also, if I dip down into my eldest sister trauma well ... it makes it more genuine, right? ♡

Because – and this is a stretch, he knows this – but what if you didn’t have any utensils at home? How would whoever you were on the phone with be able to enjoy this delightful meal without said fork and spoon and chopsticks? And he doesn’t want to imagine what devastation and sadness look like on a lovely face like yours.

Suo hears you first before he sees you.

Maybe it’s the tone of your voice or the irritated tap of your foot on the floor, but somehow, someway you’ve got him intrigued within just a couple minutes of being in your presence.

You’re on the phone with your sister, lightly scolding her for being so reckless. She was a wild card, that girl, and when she’d heard about an easy and trendy way to cut her bangs from her friends, well, she’d only be able to confirm that it’s true if she tried it, right?

Wrong – so fucking wrong.

It was not easy, and it didn’t look trendy – and now it was you paying the price for it.

She’s sobbing so loud into your ear that you have to turn your volume down to the lowest it can go, but even that’s not enough, and at some point, you can’t help it – you blow up.

She’s no stranger to your lectures (she’s on the receiving end more often than not), but you’d told her not to do it. You’d told her that she’d hate having bangs. You’d told her to sit on the idea for a couple of days before committing to it.

But what does she do? What any good sister would do! Absolutely ignore you! Even though deep down she probably knew you were right!

You sigh, fingers massaging your temple as you shut your eyes for a quick fix of relief.

“... I’ll be home in a bit, okay? It’s not the end of the world, I promise. Now – what do you want from that Monjayaki place that you like so much?”

Suo watches the way that you smile into the phone, no doubt at the response of whoever you’re speaking to, but the smile on your lips is so warm and so fond that he gets just a bit distracted.

A small laugh leaves your lips as you repeat your sister’s order, and you end the call with, “Okay, got it. No more crying, ‘kay? I love you, and I’ll see you in a bit. Also … please put the scissors down – I’ll fix it when I get home.”

He watches the way you order, politely and respectfully, before taking a seat at the table right across from him, Sakura, Nirei, Kiryu, and Tsugeura.

He watches the way you cross your legs and take in the surroundings of the restaurant as you wait, before making eye contact with him.

He sends a small, practiced smile your way before turning his attention back to his friends.

Internally, though, Suo is just the slightest ashamed because he hadn’t meant to stare at you for so long. But, as long as you didn’t know – it was fine, right?

From his peripheral, he can see the way that you continue to stare at him in confusion before ultimately looking away, and he lets out the tiniest sigh of relief.

That … that was a close one.

He tries, truly, but he just can’t. 

He just can’t stop glancing over at you. You’d piqued his interest and he couldn’t understand why.

The cashier tells you it’ll just be a couple more minutes, but you’re quickly shaking your head at them with a smile and telling them not to worry and to take their time.

And Suo can't stop wondering – because how can someone like you effortlessly exude such an air of compassion and love?

As an afterthought, Suo wonders what it would be like to be on the receiving end of it.

Your order is completed much too fast for his liking because now you’re standing up and thanking them as you grab the bag and head for the exit, and Suo feels conflicted because he’s never ever been so curious about a stranger like this before and – 

You turn around as you slip out the door, intent on getting one last glance at him before you leave, but you aren’t expecting Suo to also be looking at you.

The last thing he sees is your mouth dropping in surprise and your eyes widening before the door closes – and then it’s over.

Whatever was happening between the two of you is over.

And – Suo shouldn’t feel any sort of loss from this but he does.

He ponders, briefly, if he’s missed out on something wonderful.

But he’s distracted, too distracted, apparently, to hear Sakura ask, “Who’re ya lookin’ at?”

He’s brought back to his surroundings by the soft nudge of Nirei’s shoulder, and he blinks.

“Ah, sorry Sakura-kun. Just in my thoughts, that’s all.”

Suo’s tone is friendly but firm, leaving no room for discussion.

He’d never see you again, probably, so he let that strange feeling of regret settle somewhere deep and hidden in his conscience.

He’ll get over it, he’s sure, but then he hears the cashier mutter under their breath, “Oh… I think I forgot to add utensils in there…”

Suo never lets his heart lead. Never. In fact, he can’t remember the last time that he did.

So, he’s not too sure what’s leading him now to politely excuse himself from the table or to offer the cashier his aid in delivering the utensils to you.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t – there’s no reason to. He doesn’t work here, he doesn’t know you, but if there’s one thing Suo’s good at, it’s reading people.

And he can’t imagine how disappointed you’ll be when you get home, only to find out that they’ve forgotten to pack your utensils.

Because – and this is a stretch, he knows this – but what if you didn’t have any utensils at home? How would whoever you were on the phone with be able to enjoy this delightful meal without said fork and spoon and chopsticks?

And he doesn’t want to imagine what devastation and sadness look like on a lovely face like yours.

But when he goes to open the door – 

You’re standing right outside, hand outstretched to grab the handle and a startled look on your face.

He glances down at your hand while you glance at his – and you note the neatly wrapped-up utensils in his hand.

It’s as if time stops for just a moment as you both stand there in shock – and when your eyes meet… well, it just feels right.

“Oh I –”

“Sorry, I –”

You accidentally cut him off, and it’s awkward and uncoordinated and cute.

Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, you let out a breathless, airy laugh as you look away.

“Would you like to go first?” Suo teases, and your mouth drops open just a tiny bit at his tone.

Because who was this guy? Who’d been staring holes into your head? And who’d caught your eye once more before you left?

“I… Sorry, um, I just… Do I know you? Because you were looking at me an awful lot earlier and I don’t want to be rude,” you explain, albeit a bit flustered.

Suo blinks.

He wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt.

Being the eldest sister does things to you - like being more capable of confrontation.

“Oh. You’re not here to get your utensils?”

“Hm? Why … oh, did they not put it in here? That’s fine – I’ve got some at home.”

Suo blinks again.

You blink too.

Briefly, you wonder if the utensils in his hand are for you.

“... actually, I lied. I don’t have any at home – like, at all. Would it be possible to get some?”

[heaven4lostgirls]

Never Enough (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warning: angst, allusion to breakup, Steve chooses Sharon over reader.

summary: Steve leaves you, thinking you’ll wait for him.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I’ll be honest, this isn’t my best work, but I thought why not get something out because I’m pretty sure the next chapter of mr americana and the heartbreak prince will be a little delayed cus I have so much work to do but I hope this tides you over until them lmao.

part 1, part 2, part 3

“Steve, I swear to god if you walk out that door, we’re done” you say as tears run down your face. It’s radio silent in the Avenger’s compound as Steve stands in front of you about to leave because Sharon had called him because of an ‘emergency.’ After she had found out that you were Steve’s girlfriend, she found ways to come in-between the both of you and somehow, she was succeeding. This was your third fight about Steve just leaving out of nowhere when she called for him, you don’t know how much of this you had in you.

“Don’t be dramatic y/n” he rolls his eyes, “we’ve been over this, she’s just a friend” he says, and you cross your arms over your chest. “Steve, how many times do I need to tell you that she is not just a friend to you? A month ago, she wanted to get into your pants” you raise your voice and Steve’s expression only grows more annoyed, “She doesn’t want me like that anymore!” he says, your expression grows even more annoyed. “If you step a foot out of that door Steve, I won’t be here when you get back” you threaten him and watch as he hesitates before he says,

“She needs me y/n” he pleads with you and tears if frustration line your eyes at his words. “What about me?!” you cry out at him incredulously, “she! Is not your girlfriend Steve! I am!” you throw your hands in the air as tears run down your face in silence and watch as Steve’s irritated demeanour breaks “I’m going y/n, we can talk about this when I get back” he says and slides a hand down his face in exasperation. “Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you dare” you threaten as he again walks to the door. “I’m sorry y/n, I’ll be back” he rushes to the door as he feels his phone buzz again.

As soon as the door to your shared room closes. You’re sliding down the wall as you sob uncontrollably, why was it so easy for him to pick her? Why did he pick her? Why were you never enough?

The rest of the Avengers stand outside your door, hearing your heartbreaking sobs is enough for tony to get Friday to unlock your door before he crouches down next to you, letting you wrap your arms around him and sob into his shirt. “Why wasn’t I enough?” you cry and Tony’s eyes mist over at your heartbroken whisper, he shakes his head as he rubs your back “you are perfect” he whispers as he kisses your forehead. Tony had always been like a father figure to you since you had joined the Avengers, a little older than Peter, he had taken you both under his wing and taught you everything you needed to know.

As much as it hurt all the Avengers to see you so broken, it hurt Tony that much more that this was the one source of pain he couldn’t protect you from. As your anguished sobbing turned into small sniffles, Tony lifts your head and wipes your nose with his sleeve, “eugh” he makes a face and smiles at the small laugh you produce.

You loom around the room to see Peter, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda all standing or sitting in different parts of the room, watching you with sad gazes, you know they’ve probably already heard the entire fight and you find yourself collecting yourself before you stand up with the help of Tony to look at all of them, “I cant stay here” you admit to them. Their faces fall as they realise that this isn’t your usual fight with Steve and by him choosing to check on Sharon instead of staying with you, he’s lost his place in your life.

Some nod solemnly and other eyes mist over yet they all share an overall agreement knowing that they are willing to do whatever they need to help you heal. It’s surprisingly Tony who voices what everyone else is thinking, “do you not want to wait to hear what he has to say?” he asks softly as you lean on his chest. You shake your head as tears begin to fill your eyes again. “I asked- “your voice breaks, “I begged him to stay” you tell them and watch as sympathy floods their faces.

Wanda and Natasha are the first one’s moving in order to get you out of there, they give everyone tasks so that you have some breathing room, Tony is organizing a safe house out of state while Sam and Bucky are working on getting a plane and pilot to fly you to it. Peter is making food and trying to stock up the house with groceries for the near future and Nat is overseeing his orders to make sure he doesn’t put just junk food on it.

Whist everything around you is moving faster than you can imagine for you to be out of the compound before Steve gets back, which according to Bucky is in the next hour, You and Wanda spend time packing your clothes and essentials you’ll need to have. The quiet in the room is comforting even though you can feel the anxiety slowly overcoming you at the idea of finally leaving Steve.

Wanda breaks the silence as she bombards you with a hug, “I could feel your pain, I thought this might help” and it does, Wanda has an aura around her that is so comforting for everyone around her. You both continue packing before you’re interrupted by Bucky knocking on your open door, he smiles sadly, “we’re ready for you” he says and you nod, picking up the two duffel bags lying on the floor, leaving a piece of paper on the bed before you walk out to the quinjet.

Bucky stops you before getting on the plane, as he grasps your arm, he pulls you into a hug and you know this is his way for apologizing for Steve’s behaviour. “it’s not your fault Buck” you whisper, and you feel him nod into the hug, you were both friends through Steve and you knew just how scared he must be in fear of losing you because of what his friend had done.

Peter is next and you can’t help but laugh through your tears as you see him with tears running down his pouting face, he looks like a puppy. “c’mon parker pull it together’ you roll your eyes and pull him into a hug as he sobs, “you do know I’m coming back, right?” you whisper as his sobs stop and he nods and you both giggle together. “we’re ready for take-off” you hear the pilot through the megaphone, and you release peter to walk onto the plane.

As soon as the door opens for you, you hear your voice being called desperately. “Y/N!!” you hear, and everyone turns around to meet Steve’s broken expression. “NO! Please just hear me out!!” he’s screaming through his tears however Bucky holds him back. “No! Stop the plane please! I need to talk to her” he yells and tries to fight off Bucky to get to you, but you ignore him and wipe your cheeks and make you way onto the plane, “NO! Please y/n stop! I’ll be better baby! Just get off the plane please!” his screams are drowned out as you make your way to the couches on the plane and sob.

“Y/N! Please! Let me talk to her! Please someone! Let me talk to her!” his voice becomes hoarse from all the yelling as he watches the plane take off, he doesn’t stop struggling in Bucky’s hold until the plane disappears. “I’m sorry, God I’m so sorry” he cries into his hands before he collapses, crushing your handwritten letter in one hand as he sobs. Bucky lets everyone leave as he sits with Steve on the ground, watching his best friend fall apart on the dark asphalt.

[reveriememory]

⭐️ °. • Thank You Neil • .° ⭐️

I pushed myself to finish this in time, and I did! I met Neil, and gave him a physical copy. Till this day, I just freak out when I remember… I really admire him! I’ll talk about that and this art piece after the Read More if you’d like to hear about that.

This art piece started in October, last year as an Astarion fan piece, but overtime I realized I wanted to do something more meaningful. I’ve known of Neil since DBH, so why not create something for him? So I added in Neil, and then I left it alone for months. Didn’t really think anything of it since usually all my art follows this treatment. I focus on it for a whole two weeks and then it fades into the background. However, I got word that Neil was coming to my area, and that’s when I started freaking out. Like, oh my god, I need to finish this… can I give this to him? I’ve never gone to a convention before… what am I gonna do?

So I kept debating to finish this, because I didn’t know what was allowed, and if I could even finish in time, how would I even print this? I mean, I can just finish it at my own pace and tag him or something. In the end, I decided that it’s more important to me to get it to him in person, that way I can also get my copy signed. I had to plan this all out, and long story short, I rushed it in a week. I pulled two all-nighters, and just REALLY rushed on poor Gavin in the background. Gavin was actually a last minute decision! I would’ve added Kamski, but he’s literally just a face copy of Neil so I decided against that, and Gavin was the close second. The reason I chose DBH was because that’s where I first discovered Neil. I was a fan of this game when it first released. Heisenberg was another option, but I never got to his part of the game so I felt it wasn’t a good pick since I was going under personal limitations. Not to mention, really low on time. However, I added some references on the wall, specifically the ones where it was games that I had played! I could’ve added more, but again- time. I drew them in a motion capture studio, because I envision Neil practicing and performing with the characters he had worked on. I just felt like It was a cute little idea, and I admire Neil for his motion capture the most. It’s something I’m trying to get into, or some form of it at least.

Then. The Day.

AHHHHHH. I was starstruck. I’m just going to sum it up and talk about this specific moment. I’m next in line and I just blurt out, “I’m trying really hard not to get starstruck!” But I’m already shaky and half my memory gone. I was so anxious, trying to get through the moment that I didn’t really get to enjoy the moment, but man, am I still happy. I tell him about the piece and he’s like oh, what have you been working on? The drawing got jammed in its protector, so I was just struggling with it. “OH, sorry, it’s stuck!” And he thankfully found it funny. Gave it to him, got my copy signed and perfect. But AHHHH, I’m anxious right? I ask him if he could sign the back of it, because I was worried I’d cringe at the piece in the future. I normally don’t call my art cringe but why, why was I THAT honest—

He’s so quick to reply, super sweet man, just tells me no, don’t cringe. He also asked me about my focus in motion capture, but that’s another post for another day. I have something in the works for that!

Look, in my defense! I RUSHED the piece, so I knew I’d get a bit irritated in the future seeing my art and knowing I had the time to really do a beautiful job! I just meant that knowing how much potential I had, had I taken advantage of that, it would have turned out so much… not better, but to my liking. I’m content, considering the limitations, but… y’know? Anyways, I still wanted to look at his signature and proudly display that, like aye, I got to meet him!

Considering that I rarely draw real people, I’m definitely proud with how Neil turned out. Just like Neil told me, and many others, can’t be too harsh with myself. When working on this, I was super excited and actually thrived while working on it. Yes, under pressure, but dedicated. I can’t remember the last time I ever fixated on an art piece like this. With that said, I definitely want to try again in the future and get better at drawing semi-realism. And Neil is coming back to my area next year so… ideas.

Anyways, thank you for reading my little journal entry! Back to work I go~

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun. 

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day. 

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you. 

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain. 

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?” 

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are. 

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp. 

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher. 

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek. 

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face. 

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it? 

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?” 

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.” 

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay. 

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you. 

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response. 

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening. 

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence. 

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day. 

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you. 

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying. 

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin. 

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges. 

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time. 

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back. 

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough. 

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound. 

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns. 

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements. 

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command. 

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight. 

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep. 

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down. 

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable. 

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

Could you please do "Jealousy isn't a good look on you" and "You're right it looks much better on you" for our silly little teenage wizards?

from this prompt list

She hears his heavy, unbalanced footsteps before she hears his voice. “There you are.” He comes to a stumbling stop on the step below her, the toes of his trainers coming into her view.

“Here I am,” she says, then forces herself to look up at him.

“Why’d you leave?” James asks, sounding even more earnest than usual, thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol she knows he’s had tonight.

“Just wanted some fresh air,” she says, offering a shrug.

He crouches down and sits on the step next to her, his arm brushing against hers. She shifts away slightly, trying to be discreet. “Not very…fresh,” he says, glancing around the small stairwell she’s chosen as her refuge.

How did he even find her here at all?

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she says slowly, “but I’d really rather be alone right now.”

He frowns, turning to face her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…” She shakes her head. “You’re really pissed, Potter.”

He shrugs, like this is a complete non-issue. “I can still tell you’re upset.”

“I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking right now, okay?”

His eyebrows knit together. “Did I…do something?”

It’s a frustrating question, made more frustrating by the fact that he seems genuinely concerned about her. She’s not angry at him, per se; she’s aware that she doesn’t have the courage to turn the tables and find clarity. It takes a bravery Lily hasn’t felt entitled to lately. And every time she considers being honest with him, something like tonight happens.

Sometimes, it feels like James Potter is the exact right person, at exactly the wrong time. 

“Why are you out here?” she asks, sidestepping his question.

His frown deepens. “Because you…Sirius said you—”

“Let me ask a different way,” Lily cuts in sharply. “Why are you out here with me, instead of back at your victory party, snogging Hestia Jones?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he recoils almost comically, like one of the cartoons she used to watch with Petunia on Saturday mornings. “What?”

Lily turns away, folding her arms around her knees, hands disappearing into the sleeves of her jumper. “Never mind.”

“No, you—” He makes a sound of irritation, somewhere deep in his throat. “Don’t do that, Evans.”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I can’t just—Lily, look at me.”

She stubbornly keeps her gaze fixed on the wall of the stairwell. She knows she’s being childish, but she doesn’t care because he just—does things to her. Makes her hate herself a bit and the person she becomes in moments like this.

“Evans.”

“Go away, Potter,” she snaps. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence before he speaks, voice low, “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“You’re right,” she hisses, her head whipping back around to meet his gaze, “it does suit you much more than me.”

His mouth drops open. “What? I—”

“Oh, please, Potter. I know you talked to Benjy. I know you’re the reason—”

“What? That he dumped you? You don’t think maybe it’s just because you’re sort of a bitch?”

The accusation hangs between them, heavy and spilling over like an inkwell knocked across a parchment. Too late to cap and make upright, too late to save the contents of the parchment.

“I’m sorry,” he says miserably, his head dropping into his hands. “I didn't mean—”

“Go back to your party, James."

“Lily, I—”

She stands up, abruptly. “Fine. I’ll go, then.”

James moves to stand, awkward and unsteady. “Hang on. Evans, just—”

She pauses in her retreat, but doesn’t turn to give him the satisfaction of seeing exactly how much he’s hurt her. “Don’t follow me,” she bites off, then disappears.

[finniestoncrane]

Portrait Session

Capullo!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1k commission: artist reader is propositioned by edward nygma to paint a portrait of him showcasing all his best features... 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: non-consensual nudity from eddie but is that really a negative? plus some suggestive stuff

Usually, the end of the day was your favourite time in the studio. There was something soothing about tidying up and cleaning things away. It provided that sense of completion, even if you hadn’t manage to get very far in any pieces through the hours you’d spent there. So it was more irritating than anything else when you were suddenly interrupted as you washed your brushes in the sink. You could smell the overly fragrant cologne before you could feel the hand over your mouth, feel the warmth of the breath before the words were whispered into your ear.

“Ok… don’t do anything stupid… because we know how this goes… just, turn around slowly and I might uncover your mouth, ok?”

You nodded, rolling your eyes as you placed the voice. Nothing surprised you much in Gotham anymore, and very little scared you. But there was one thing that you found annoying, more than anything else, and now you were face to face with it.

“Edward Nygma, The Riddler, but of course, you know who I am.”

He flashed a grin and let go of your mouth.

“Yep. Very aware of you.”

“Oh, a fan, hm?”

He raised his eyebrows a few times, smiling at you with a lewd grin.

“Hardly. How did you get in here?”

“I’m The Riddler, idiot. That’s what you’re wondering? Not why I’m here, or what I might do to you?”

He winked and you felt your eyes roll again. Everything about him bothered you, and to be perfectly honest you would rather he killed you or knocked you out to steal whatever he might need, anything to stop him from talking.

“Ok, fine. Enlighten me.”

“Well, you never replied to my email enquiry. So I thought I’d stop by in person.”

“Oh! Yes! I remember that…”

A few weeks ago, you had received a curious email regarding the potential for you to capture the likeness of him in a portrait. You had initially thought it might be a scam, or a prank, but the ludicrous amount of compliments regarding his own features, and the horribly self-indulgent signature which was filled with riddles and more compliments, assured you that it might be genuine. And of course, if it was, you wanted nothing to do with it.

“So you did read it. And you chose not to respond to me?”

“Yep. Don’t get told ‘no’ often, huh?”

“Not by anyone that matters. And ordinarily, you definitely wouldn’t matter. But… your art is… different. Better. I like it. And I really, really want you to paint me.”

You shook your head silently, but he kept pleading.

“Come on! I can make it worth your while. Very worth your while.”

“I doubt that very much.”

Ignoring the suggestive grin on his face, you chose to take a look down his body, letting your gaze linger on his crotch as you served your cutting response.

“Ouch. But I was actually thinking monetarily, for once.”

Taking a quick look around the studio, you considered what a little bit of extra cashflow could do for you. New paints, new materials, restock the cabinets. Maybe add a skylight if he was feeling extra generous.

“Ok… fine. I’ll paint your portrait. Let me get my things set up and we can bash this out as quickly as possible.”

“That’s usually how I operate.”

Scoffing at him, you turned to grab your supplies, some brushes, a canvas, some paints, and when you returned your gaze to Edward Nygma, you found him shirtless and removing his pants.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Uh… duh?”

He spread his arms out to the side, displaying his undressed form to you as his pants slid down his waist, leaving him in just his underwear.

“You’re gonna paint me nude.”

“I am?”

He threw his head back, sighing in exasperation.

“It really is me looking at my best, and I’m sure you’ll agree once you’ve seen me in all of my glory.”

You covered your eyes with your hand and turned your head slightly as Eddie removed his underwear, but you stole a quick glance at him before he told you to open your eyes. Facing him completely, you blinked a few times to adjust to the view.

“Well… see anything you like?”

Annoyingly, you did. He was slim, not toned, with a soft patch of red chest hair, and another patch of the same bright hue around his flaccid cock. And as he grinned, the self-satisfied smirk that usually irritated you, you found yourself blushing slightly.

“Let’s just get started now, come on.”

“Ah, ah, ah! Not quite yet, still got one more thing to do.”

He reached down to his cock, gripping it in his hand, and began to stroke it.

“Woah! Hey! What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m not going to have a portrait painted where I’m not looking my best or biggest.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’ll just be a second. Maybe you could… help me out?”

You let out an incredulous laugh, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Suit yourself then.”

It was hard to take your eyes off of him as he stroked his cock, and you could see in your peripheral that he was staring intently back at you. Eventually though, the pleasure had taken precedent, and his eyes were closing as he let his mouth fall open. Soft sighs spilled out as his hand moved up and down his swiftly growing length quicker. You could tell he was reaching climax, which definitely wasn’t the point of this at all. And you knew, unfortunately, you should step in to prevent this from going any further.

“Ok… are you ready to start now, Mister Nygma?”

“Sure am, and I’m ready for some other things too.”

With another wink, he looked down to his cock, smiling back at you, a hopeful tone to his words. If he kept this up, you’d be here a lot longer than it would take you just to finish the painting.

[specialagentlokitty]

10th doctor x reader - two can play that game

A/N: idk what this is I’m just trying to get my writing muse back so I’m writing anything and everything

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be doing, but laying in the middle of some weird looking room with a man staring at you in utter disbelief was not what you were doing.

“How did you get in here?!”

“Well I don’t know man I was…”

You stopped and furrowed your brows.

“You were…?”

You looked back to him.

“Yeah I’ve got absolutely no idea what I was doing to be honest with you, but I definitely wasn’t in here.”

“Well absolutely not, I left and it was empty, I come back and you’re laying on my floor! Who are you?”

You went to sit up and you groaned a little in pain, and laid back down.

“I’m (Y/N), who the hell are you?”

“The doctor.”

He looked down at you and you looked up at him.

“That’s a stupid ass name. What’s your actual name.”

“The doctor.”

“Last name?”

“The doctor.”

“So you’re the doctor the doctor?”

You held back your grin a little bit as you watched irritation flick over his face before he looked at you, then the way you were holding your side.

“Were you hurt before coming here?” He asked.

“I could’ve been.”

“What happened? Can I take a look?”

“I’ve just met you am not letting you look at my side.”

“I’m a doctor you know.”

“No that’s just a dumb ass name you gave yourself, it’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Seems pretty serious.”

You pushed yourself up with a groan of pain and leant against the railing.

“If you won’t let me look then what happened?”

You thought for a moment.

“I think I fell of my bike.”

“You fell if a bicycle at your age?”

“No you asshole, I fell of a motorbike!” You huffed.

He raised his hands a little.

“Alright no need for yelling now. That doesn’t explain how you ended up in here.”

You looked towards the door which was cracked a little bit.

“I think I fell through your door mate.”

“Oh what?!”

He ran over to the door and looked at it, then left and came back in.

“You did as well! You crashed right through it!”

“Sorry! It was in the middle of the road, don’t put your damn weird portable home thing in the middle of the road!”

“I didn’t!”

You used the railing to pull yourself up and you stumbled a few steps, and everything began to go blurry.

“Oh standing was not a good idea.”

Before the doctor could react you crumbled to the ground with a heavy thud.

When you came too, you realised that you were laid down on the floor, a jacket under your head, and the doctor was crouched next to you.

“I’ll smack you so hard you’ll end up across the world.”

“Well, at least you’re awake.”

He moved away and you went to sit up but he stopped you.

“Don’t, just lay there for a while, you fell pretty hard.”

“I’ve got to move my bike.”

“Already done.”

He pointed and you turned your head to look at it, and then you looked at him, and brought a hand up to your side.

“I didn’t look.”

“If you did I swear to god man.”

“I swear!” He huffed.

You crossed your arms and winced a little bit.

“How long am I going to be forced to lay here.”

“Just until you stop making pained noises when you move.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him.

“Seriously it would be quicker if you just let me look.”

“Well I won’t. So.”

He rolled his eyes, and while he wondered about he tried to talk to you but all he got was sarcastic comments back.

And that was how you first met the doctor, and how you learned about him, and you bumped into him a few more times before travelling with him.

And even after a year he still got the same sarcasm and snarky responses as he did beck then.

“Did you just throw something at me?” He asked.

“No.”

He picked up the tennis ball and held it up.

“Not mine.”

“Seriously after a year we’re still doing this?” He asked.

“Shut it marshan man.”

“I.. I’m not.. I’m not from mars (Y/N), we’ve been over this.”

You grinned at him a little bit and you yawned, stretching a little bit and the doctor titled his head a little bit.

“What?”

“Do that again.”

You stretched your arms up and he pointed to your side where your shirt had lifted a little bit.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

“Huh?”

You looked down and you laughed a little.

“Forgot about that. Yeah I do, it’s a dragon, goes round my back.”

He nodded his head a little bit.

“It’s why I wouldn’t let you look at my side actually, it was only half finished then and looks weird half finished.”

“Can I see?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why!? You can’t tell me you have a tattoo and not show me!”

“I’m not showing some alien my side of my back!”

“We’re friends!”

“You kidnapped me!”

“You agreed to come!”

You snickered a little and he rolled his eyes at you, and you walked around the console as he took a step towards you.

You backed up towards the doors of the TARDIS.

“Don’t do it.”

You grinned and slowly opened the door, and you took a step back into the grass and you ran and the doctor ran after you.

He easily caught up with you, and was quick to figure out your pattern of turns.

“This is good, great! I can do this all day!”

You stopped and you watch as he stopped and you grinned at him a little bit.

“Why do you insist on annoying me?”

“It’s funny, and you can’t say you don’t do it back alien.”

“Yeah okay you’ve got a point. How is your side by the way, does it still hurt?”

“Nah, it’s alright now.”

He nodded his head and walked over, and you both began to head back towards the TARDIS.

“Gravity is so heavy sometimes.”

“Doctor don’t you dare!”

“It just gets to me.”

He put his warms over your shoulder and his chin on your head, and you nearly fell as he walk but stopped his weight on you.

“Jesus Christ you ass!”

Grabbing his arms, you knelt down and flipped him over you, dropping him in the ground and he groaned in pain.

“I think gravity might be getting too much for me too doctor.”

“Oh no please you just body slammed me.”

You grabbed and walked around him, and you dropped yourself over him and he grunted in pain while you laughed.

He tried to push you off, but he wasn’t putting all of his effort behind it and you knew he wasn’t.

So you just stayed there, and rolled over so you were looking at the sky.

“Are we planning on getting up?”

“Nope not really.”

The doctor sighed a little bit but he moved his arm over your head so you wouldn’t hurt your neck.

He knew he was flirting with you, and truth be told you were flirting back.

All this innocently annoying behaviour was you two just flirting back and forth between one another, none of you willing to make the first move.

It wasn’t bad though, you did get along like a house on fire.

Sure, sometimes he liked to just annoy you like you annoyed him, but whatever it was he always made sure it didn’t go to far and made sure that he didn’t hurt you.

You on the other hand just loved to annoy him and he knew it, but sometimes you were nice, like right now.

You got up from him and moved, sitting above his head you picked it up and rested it on your lap, running your fingers through his hair as you looked at the sky.

The doctor smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the comfort it gave to him.

You laid down and rested his head on your stomach instead, and you slapped his forehead.

“And it was going so well.” He chuckled.

“I’m taking a nap.”

“Seriously? Outside?”

“I. Am. Taking. A. Nap.”

“Okay.” He repeated in the same tone.

He stayed there, he didn’t bother to move, because he decided he was going to take a nap as well, but not before smacking your forehead back

[tomcruiseishot]

One shot: Ethan hunt x Rival Reader

I am shocked at the lack of Ethan hunt/Mission impossible fanfics on here. Anyways, I love a good enemies to loved so I decided to write one. Sorry if this sucks LMAO. If anyone likes this lmk i’ll write more.

WARNINGS: Kissing, Some blood, Mild language. This one is pretty PG-13. *Gif is not mine*

After finally arriving at the safe house, your feet are begging you to lay down. Unfortunately, you are covered in blood from todays mission and the last thing you want to do is go to bed without showering. The mission your on forces you to be in uncomfortable proximity to Infamous Agent Ethan Hunt. Even just hearing his name makes you irritated. This is not the only mission that you had to work with him. The two of you often get in each others way since you both want be making the decisions. What’s more aggravating is that no matter what you do on a mission, Ethan always gets credit for YOUR accomplishments. Anyway, instead of berating Ethan Hunt in your head, you really do need to shower. You slowly approach the bathroom. you hear the shower and realize ethan is occupying the only bathroom in the apartment. “Ethan hurry up, how much longer?”

The door opens and he leans against the white frame. You suddenly feel unable to breathe. He smiles at you with a hint of arrogance and an emotion you can’t quite place. “You missed me?” He sarcastically says, low and raspy in an attempt to not wake your sleeping colleague. Despite your best efforts you can’t help but watch the water bead of his chest onto his loose grey sweatpants. His abs are so defined they look sculpted. But you don’t have time for this. Besides, this is Ethan hunt we’re talking about here and you’re supposed to hate him. You try to think of something witty to say but your at a loss. “I need to shower Ethan, Im covered in blood and I’m tired.” He stares at you intently and you want to break his gaze but you keep from looking away. “You got pretty messed up out there.” He says. “Yeah no shit.” He chuckles lowly at this. “Listen. I know we haven’t always gotten along” he starts, “But you did really good today. We wouldn’t have killed the general without your quick thinking.”

I can’t believe Ethan hunt is being nice to me. When he says this, Your stomach erupts in a warm feeling that spreads throughout your veins and goes from your toes all the way up to your ears. I don’t have feelings for Ethan do I? We’re just talking agent-to-agent. He would’ve said that to anyone. His muscular arm brushes a tendril of hair out of your face and tucks it he kind your ear. You look up at him and begin to feel feel your stomach explode in butterfly’s. Suddenly you no longer remember why you knocked on the door.

Your legs start to feel like jelly but this time it’s not from exhaustion. He’s so close you can practically feel his breath on your face. He smells like a pine tree and his body heat makes you feel warm. He looks at you with something unprecedented: affection. For the first time you notice how handsome Ethan is. You begin to wonder what it would be like to press your lips against his. Ethan takes a brisk breath like he’s going to say something but then just stares at you, then nods in dismissal. “We’ll I should probably hurry up then.” He says. “Yeah probably.” You say chuckling.

He begins to shut the door. For some reason you’re filled with desperation for the man who you called your enemy 5 minutes ago. “Hey, Ethan?” He slowly turns back around and reopens the door. “Thanks for your help today. If I’m being honest I was pretty scared earlier and I don’t know what happened if you weren’t there,” The corners of his mouth turn up, “Hey, it’s my job. Don’t worry about it.” I start again, “But Im not just talking about the job. I guess what i’m trying to say is I’m really glad I met you. I mean glad know you-have you. you.” When he doesn’t respond you start regretting saying anything at all. “I’m sorry I don’t even know why I said that so I’m just gonna-” Suddenly he grabs your waist with his strong hands and pulls you in so close you can hear and feel his heart beat. He leans in and he puts his mouth on yours and kisses you roughly. You’re shocked but pleasantly surprised and immediately kiss back. Your whole body is tinging and it feels as if fireworks are going off inside the apartment. You grasp at his nape with one hand and with the other you feel the crevice’s of his abs that you’ve always secretly longed to feel.

He pulls away from the kiss and smiles at you with love and appreciation. He leans to whisper something in your ear. “we should take this… elsewhere.” You cock your head the same way a confused puppy does. “What, did you have something planned?” You both look towards the agent asleep of the bed. He looks back at you and his green eyes suddenly change to a hungry lust. You wryly smile. With one of his strong hands he forcefully pulls you into the bathroom and uses your body to shut the door. He raises your wrists above your head and pins you against the door with one hand, the other on the back of your neck. You wish this moment could last forever. He steps closer, roughly kissing you. He pulls back panting and looks st you with a small smirk. You smile then bite your lip. All you can think is you hope your friend isn’t a light sleeper.

[izvmimi]

cw: minors dni!!! THIS IS A REPOST. deku interrupts you at work cuz he’s horny, also tbh this is radiologist!reader lmao, pseudo-domestic violence, car sex, questionable depiction of a medical professional. also i got inspired from a tiktok but i lost the tiktok so idk.

the high-pitched buzz of your phone vibrating on paper disrupts your focus, but to be quite honest, it’s a mental break you’ve needed after trying to figure out a case for the past twenty minutes. flipping it over, you can see a text from izuku on the screen, and you quickly unlock the phone.

i’ll be there in three minutes, can you slip away for a bit?

your eyes widen. it is a little past lunchtime, and as the thought crosses your mind your stomach growls. rising up quickly, you draft your report and call out to your attending who is glued to their own screen in the dark room that you’re taking lunch. she murmurs something in agreement under her breath.

it’s very bright outside in contrast to the reading room, but you make a quick way out to the driveway where patients are unloaded to see where izuku’s parked. he could probably walk (or jump) here but that attracts too much attention, so whenever he does surprise you at work, he shows up in the old SUV you refuse to give up despite the fact that he makes well enough money to upgrade you.

you grin as you see him, running up to the lowered passenger window. he grins as he sees you too - he didn’t work today, so he’s dressed down, although he looks upsettingly good in his simple white spandex t-shirt.

“what’d you bring me?” you say quickly, before even opening the door.

izuku raises his eyebrows.

“myself.” he’s still smiling but you frown and your stomach growls again.

“yourself?” you pout but then you get annoyed. he’s been home all day and you’re starving and he usually brings food if he can and thus food is all you can think of right now, even if you are always glad to see him.

“how long do you have?” he asks, tentatively as he starts the car but doesn’t drive off yet. “i missed you… and you’re coming home late again tonight…”

his hand rests on your knee and by the way he caresses it you can sort of tell already what he wants-

“not long enough if that’s what you’re thinking of,”  you pout. maybe you’re a little bit of a brat, but more childish anger wells up within you.

“you really didn’t bring any food?” you lament.

he chuckles, and drives off as you stare outside the window. it’s only when he makes a right turn off into the parking garage and not onto the main road that you start to wonder what’s going on.

“izuku?”

“indulge me a little bit?” he asks. the car continues to turn up and up and up until you’re basically on the rooftop. blood is starting to rush to your temples.

you turn to him, irritated this time.

“i’m not going to fuck you on my lunch break????”

he laughs then gives you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

“you’re absolutely sure you’re not?���

“izuku!”

“okay how about i do the fucking?” he jokes.

your heart is racing.

“i’m going to punch you and get out of this car if you keep messing with me like this,” your voice is sharp and shrill, and he laughs even harder.

“you’re so cute when you’re upset,” he teases. car now parked in the furthest corner, but uncovered so that it’s bright and the view of the city is the highest from your vantage point, he stops the vehicle and turns to you, pointing to his cheek.

“do it, baby. punch right here, as hard as you can.”

you grimace.

“i’ll do it for real.”

his green eyes gleam and he leans in. “go ahead. i’m giving you permission, sweetheart.”

it’s a small space, but your arm does find a way to draw back and you threaten it. he grins even wider now.

“if you punch me i’ll buy you dinner for real. we’ll have a feast, actually, whatever you want, okay? i dropped the ball. i am a terrible boyfriend, right? i deserve it.”

you hate when he starts like this because he will keep on egging you on, so reluctantly you draw back further and punch him in the face.

he barely moves from the impact and pouts.

“could be better,” he sighs. he takes your wrist before you can draw it back; it really wasn’t a hard punch, but you wanted him to shut up and now your hand stings a little. he can tell with the wince in your face, and kisses your wrist, eyes still focused on you.

your face warms. the close contact always does to you; he knows you too well.

“s-should we really?” you think out loud as he inches closer. he leans back for a moment and watches you carefully. he’s done bothering you at this point you can tell from the suddenly slightly more pensive look in your eyes.

“okay, you’re right that i missed you and didn’t think, just got in the car, so i’m sorry about that,” he murmurs. biting his lip, he rubs your hand in his lap.

a few moments pass, and you give in. you sigh and kiss him on the cheek.

“i missed you, too.”

you ponder for a moment long, and then kiss him on the lips.

who cares if it’s midday and you’re on the clock?

izuku knows what you’re thinking the moment your lips meet his, and his tongue is in your mouth instantly. in a practiced and thus fluid motion, he pulls the seat back while pulling you on top of him as you climb over the car console. your mouths connect and disconnect and his hand unravels your scrub top tucked into your pants and moves upwards to cup a breast. the kiss deepens and you moan into his mouth as his fingers toy with a pebbled nipple. your bodies start to rock together, and you forget that there’s a medical mystery you haven’t yet solved and you’re hungry and tired and still have 8 hours of work left, but regardless, you let yourself sink into your pro hero partner’s arms. he kisses your face and your neck, sucking gently down to the space between your breasts. you raise your hips, and the hard cock that’s been poking between your legs as you straddle him makes an appearance.

will you have time to clean up afterwards?

either way, you sink down onto his cock and soon your car is moving violently as izuku thrusts up and down and up and down and you throw it right back at him.

you can hear him moan as his fingers tighten around your hips but you’re still much, much louder. the sun is beating down and there’s even more heat in the car as you become sweatier through loosened clothing. izuku fills your appetite in another way, you have to admit.

always.

—

“did you change your scrubs?” your attending asks as you rush back to your desk nearly an hour later.

you stumble a bit as you barrel past, and thank the heavens that reading rooms are always dark.

“yeah, i spilled some soup so went to the call room and changed.”

“oh, that sucks. hey, i took over that draft for you. good job on that case, you were on the right track.”

“ah, yes.”

your stomach is still growling, but you have excellent dinner plans to look forward to at 8.

and maybe you’ll be fed again, a different way.

[fireflylitsky]

@latart I DID and it will not be nearly as cool or edgy as anyone thinks or wants to be honest 😂 It's a very barebones wip, Hidan from Jashin's POV.

Hidan is not immortal, Jashin just has a fixation with him and goes out of her way to bring him back every freaking time. She is up to her eyeballs in frustration with this guy and cannot understand why he keeps killing himself. She later finds out that her scriptures have become twisted after so many years of inaccurate translations and translations of those translations.

Now people seem to think she's some sort of death god??? It's very stressful for her, but she can't help but feel something for her stupid little human follower.

Snippet:

Jashin keeps a journal. It’s an important thing to do as a God. With a projected lifespan of eternity, it’s easy to forget the little details. 

Ever since the great culling of Gods by her paleness, Kaguya, Jashin has been in hiding, relying on the worship of the few to keep her godship instated. 

The rules are simple: No worshipers, no Godhood. 

Most of her journals over the last few centuries are filled with mundane drivel that she doubts she’ll ever revisit—then Hidan shows up.

Things get interesting, but interesting doesn’t necessarily mean good as he is quick to display.

Dear diary,

Yesterday I had 23 followers. Today I have one. I should hate him since he’s responsible for killing the rest of them. Smite him, maybe. But he’s all I have left. Besides, I can’t fully blame him for the massacre, humans can be rather irritating.

Dear diary,

His name is Hidan. Sorry, I should offer context. That follower I was talking about yesterday? His name is Hidan. I’ll learn more soon I’m sure.

Dear diary,

Hidan died today. As you know, he was my only follower. I know I’m not supposed to resurrect the humans, but what else was I to do? It was kind of sad how it happened. Fell right into a trap, poor guy. One of those pits with spikes in the bottom. I figured he could have a second chance. Besides, who is going to tell me no? Hah.

Dear diary,

Well, he thinks he’s immortal now. I suppose I should have seen this coming.  He bragged about it to quite a few people, even used my name. Maybe this is good advertising? 

Deary diary,

He did it again. It was on purpose this time. A pointed rod through his heart. Injuries like that are easy to fix at least. Sometimes I appreciate how simple he is.

Dear diary,

This human is more work than all the previous ones combined. I can hardly look away without fear of him dying. I’m getting the impression he thinks he’s doing this for me.

Dear diary,

I found the scriptures Hidan had gotten his hands on. I think the previous members wrote it themselves. I have never once demanded a human sacrifice; this feels like they’re projecting. Is it a mistranslation issue? Anyway, I think I understand Hidan a little bit more now.

Dear diary,

I am a God, not a personal shopper. I do not need to be wasting my time masquerading as a mortal and commissioning a custom weapon. This is a stupid idea.

Dear diary,

I did it. I got the scythe. It was a moment of weakness, but he was having a bad day and I… I just felt bad. I hope he likes it. I made sure to get it in his favorite color.

Dear diary,

Hidan made a friend. He’s tall and upon further inspection, appears to be made of black spaghetti. I’m afraid I have fallen out of touch with what constitutes a human these days.

Deary diary,

Oh. They are not friends.

Dear diary,

I’m not sure what they are anymore. But if Hidan likes him, then I like him.

Dear diary,

Hidan is upset about something. He cried today when no one else was around. He always talks to me about everything, but he hasn’t mentioned this. Should I be worried?

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Drama CD - Shimabara Disturbance Track 2 English translation

Heya, I know this is late... but my eye problems continued until the symptoms got better last Tuesday, on April 2nd. Long story short, I had difficulties keeping my eyes physically open without them feeling irritated or hurting after 6pm, which really cut away my time to translate for the past two weeks as I normally translate in the evenings, which didn’t help when I was actively cutting back on my screen time while that happened. Overall, my symptoms seemed to have cleared up for the most part since I started using Hypochlorous acid as recommended by my optometrist and I have thankfully stopped needing to walk around with a damp towel everywhere for relief. 

Anyway, I decided to post these as soon as I finish them to make up for the post-less March... I’m about a quarter way through track 3 (it and track 4 are over 10min), but I already have 5 and 6 done so it hopefully won’t take too long? I’m really sorry bout that!

Also, for various reasons, I've decided not to tag the characters for the rest of this drama for the time being. I'll tag them a week after I post the last track... if I remember to. 

Anyway, enjoy! 

Hakuoki Drama CD - Shimabara Disturbance Track 2: How to use reward money

Translation by KumoriYami

(pacing footsteps)

Saito: There's no need to worry about this myself, I'll just ask Yukimura directly. Thinking this, I came to her room... 

But, how do I say this? Isn't it strange to suddenly ask “do you want a a woman’s kimono?” Or should I indirectly ask about what can be done to make her feel happy? No, but not only that there’s....

(door opens)

Saito: Ah! Yu-Yukimura! No, I wasn't doing anything. Anyway, can I have some of your time? There's something I wanted to tell you...

Saito: Nn, then, excuse me.

(door closes)

Saito: Yukimura, um, ermhm... What I'm going to say isn't important, no, not only is it a trivial matter that doesn't matter at all... Um.... 

(footsteps from outside)

Harada: Hey, Chizuru, you there?

(Door opens)

Harada: Fu... Sorry, looks like you already have a guest? 

Saito: No, it's fine, you have something to speak about?

Harada: Ah, yeah, just now, what was her name? That girl named Sen came to visit. I'm sorry, Saito, can you bring Chizuru to see her? I have to go on patrol next.

Saito: I understand. Yukimura, let’s go.

..................

Sen: Chizuru-chan, long time no see! But it actually hasn't been that long. I wanted to see Chizuru-chan quite a bit. The Shinsengumi haven't been bullying you, right? Are you okay?

Saito:....

Sen: Everyone's been treating you well? Really? You're not saying that because of this person next to you?

Saito: I’m sorry, I can’t leave.

Sen: I know that, I just wanted to hear her honest words.

Saito: Uh, hn....  

Sen: In any case, Chizuru-chan can't lie. I still remember when you came to Shimabara. Truly, you're really someone who shines the more you get polished! It was really trough after that time. There were a lot of people asking who that geisha was. Hey, would you like to come again? Kimigiku would also like to see you again, you can wear a beautiful kimono again!

Saito: A beautiful kimono... 

[recalling]

(Heisuke:  If I had a lot of money, I would give Chizuru a beautiful kimono. She was very happy!)

Saito: Sure enough, Yukimura, she...

Sen: Well, please think it about it! You're always welcome!... Now that I've seen Chizuru-can's smile, I should be going back soon. 

Saito: Ah, uh... is that okay?

Sen: Yes, although I am a bit reluctant to, I really just came to see her today. Next time, let's go out for tea and chat! See you, Chizuru-chan!

(Sen gets up[?])

Saito: Wait, it's dangerous for a woman to go/leave alone. I'll accompany you.

Sen:, No it's okay. I grew up and Kyoto and will be taking a safe road/route back. 

Saito: I have something I'd like to talk to you about. Could I please escort you? 

Sen: Something to say to me?  I understand. Then, let’s go. 

..............

(walking on a road)

Sen: How long will it be before you are all willing to let Chizuru-chan go/When will you be releasing Chizuru-chan?

Saito: That’s abrupt. 

Sen: She's confined at your headquarters from morning til night, day after day, and even though she's a young woman, she can't even dress up, She's obviously worried about her father's situation but can't go looking for him. She must be feeling very anxious.

Saito:.....

Sen: Do you understand how cruel you all are to her?

Saito; We have our own circumstances. 

Sen:....

Saito: But, what you say is understandable. 

Sen: Eh.

Saito: I did say that I wanted to speak to you. I just want Yukimura to be able to dress in a beautiful kimono/I want Yukimura to wear a beautiful kimono [can be interpreted either way]. Would it be possible to borrow a room at Shimabara? If she goes there, she’ll be able to act as a woman as she wishes to

Sen: Ah, Chizuru-chan will definitely be happy! Then, leave all the preparations to me! I'll bring out our most beautiful kimono! I also have to tell Kimigiku about this too!

Saito: No, you don't have to go to that extent. Just prepare a room...

Sen: Just escort me here. I have to go back and start preparing...!

Saito: Hey, wait... listen to what I have to say... 

(their voices fade)

Kazama: I see. It looks like this will be very interesting...

----------

My personal bias says that Saito never lets go of Chizuru cuz they get married. xD

[yandere-genji]

Yandere mcree dirty starter request number 13 plz.

(Just a note, I am still getting used to the whole “Cole Cassidy” timeline we are living in. I wrote the draft with jesse mccree so pls forgive any discrepancies.)

#13: “You’ve been so good lately, my pet. Don’t make me have to punish you.”

“Sit,” Cassidy pulled the collar of your shirt and pushed you onto the floor. The floor was hard and cold from the winter frost, which you couldn’t escape from being so high in the mountains. You hated the cold. Hated having to huddle as close to the fireplace as you possibly could just to escape the freezing temperature permeating through the log cabin. The winds whistled too loud as they picked up mists of white snow from the ground. You really did not like the mountains. If you had your pick, you would stay with Cassidy at the nice shack he had just outside of Santa Fe, but you never did have a choice in the matter. Whenever he went, you were expected to follow.

He must’ve been tired, too, though he never showed it. So you leaned into him, looked up at him through pleading eyes. You didn’t dare say a word, but Cassidy understood what you wanted to say.

But he couldn’t rest. Not yet. There was business he had to attend to and time is money. So he gave you a sympathetic smile and removed his hand from your cheek. You missed the warmth of his touch but you were content to be dismissed, “I’ll be back soon. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m out, or there will be hell to pay.”

There wasn’t much to say. You nodded compliantly and Cassidy headed out the door. Alone again. This time he didn’t need to restrain you. Any town would be miles away and the terrain was difficult. So you were stuck to your own devices in the meantime.

‘I’ll be back soon,’ he had said. Soon was very subjective to Cassidy, you had learned. Soon could mean a few hours or a few days. He was an honest man, usually, but never when he spoke those words. Perhaps he said that to keep you on your best behavior lest he catch you in some mischief.

But the mountains made you miserable and drove you mad with boredom. He knew it, too. Most of your worst fits happened there. Rummaging through his work equipment, sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong, and picking quarrels with Cole in your irritable state. It never ended well, either. Especially when you were defiant with him, it wore his patience paper thin.

“You’d be wise to behave,” he warned, “you’ve been so good lately, pumpkin. Don’t make me have to punish you.”

Even though his words repeated themselves in your head, your mind wandered. Not only did the boredom tempt you to misbehave, but you would do anything to keep your mind from thinking about whatever Cassidy was up to now. You knew he made a living from catching (and often killing) outlaws. It was dangerous and if anything happened to him… You didn’t want to think about that. But every second he was gone was a risk and you worried tirelessly, feeling even more trapped.

You sat up and made your way towards the window besides the front door. It had stopped snowing and you managed to get a clearer view of the land. The cabin was atop a steep side of the mountain, there was hardly any area in front of the house, save for a small shed holding Lord knows what. The moonlight reflected off the icy snow. Specks of snow glittered from the refraction of the light. It was mesmerizing. You wanted to run out into the snow, feel the crunching beneath your feet. Maybe make a snowman or a fort. Like you were a little kid.

But it was freezing. And Cassidy would kill you. His number one rule was to never leave the house without him. It seemed like in that since you were still like a little kid.

Your boots were right beside you, still wet around the soles. They seemed dry in the inside and so did your coat hanging beside the door. You had a pair of gloves inside the pockets. Cassidy hadn’t left long ago. So if you spent a few minutes outside, he wouldn’t know, right? But he would definitely notice your footprints in the snow. There was the back door. What’re the odds he would be going through there? Zero to none, you calculated based on no evidence whatsoever.

Just a moment wouldn’t hurt. You just wanted to play around with something other that the fire iron or whatever old books were laying around.

You put on your winter outfit and headed towards the back door, careful not to leave a trail behind. You looked out the window, peering over the terrain. There wasn’t much besides the mountain walls and a few feet of snowy ground. And your heart was racing. Since when had you been so scared? The mountains really had a strange effect on you.

Cold air was seeping through the door and you raised a gloved hand to feel it. Your gloves protected your skin from the chill and your body remained warm in your coat. The cabin was barely warm and you relied most on the fireplace for comfort. Your winter clothing would do just as much for you outdoors as the fireplace would inside.

Throwing caution to the wind, you eagerly opened the door and leapt onto the snowy ground. A thick sheet of snow caught you, enveloping your body in an icy embrace. You smiled and lifted yourself from the snow. The only light was from the moon and the dim porch light from the cabin. Dark forest surrounded you, absolutely silent.

You sat in the snow for a bit, holding your knees to your chest. It was a picturesque view with the snow innocently covering the woods like a christmas postcard. You tried to make out whatever you could through the shadows of trees and bushes, but nothing seemed to come of it. Imagine what could be hiding in there.

Cassidy kept a book of all the plants and animals in the areas he frequented. He always knew what something was when you asked him and was happy to explain it to you. If he were here, you could ask him to take a walk in the forest with you, show you all the animals and keep you protected from the nasty ones. But he wasn’t. In that moment, you felt too vulnerable and ran back inside the cabin, suddenly aware of how flimsy the back door was.

Everything was so quiet. The sound of you unzipping your coat was like a scream. You knew there were bears in the mountain. What if something saw you and decided to make you it’s prey? What could you do? You were unarmed and alone. Cassidy must not have even been gone longer than an hour.

You knew you weren’t supposed to, but you were scared. You didn’t know what was out there. And you had already broken one rule without getting caught. So you made you way to the bedroom and rummaged through Cassidy’s work equipment. He hadn’t even locked his suitcase, to your surprise, sending a pang of guilt through your heart realizing how much he was beginning to trust you. But you could be in danger.

Past the various bullets, a bandolier, and case of cigars was the very journal he had kept. Your face grew red with shame knowing you were violating his privacy. But it was only a silly little book that would hopefully prepare you for the potentially dangerous circumstances in which Cassidy had abandoned you at in the first place. There was a little map, marked with location names and page numbers.

A thud. Outside, near the back door. Your heart beat fast and you froze. That could be one of two things, and both spelled bad news for you. Like a bat out of hell, you quickly placed everything back into Cassidy’s suitcase. Your hands were clumsy with fear and you took longer than you would’ve liked but you thankfully had everything in place before being caught by anyone or anything.

You rose from your seated position and peaked out the bedroom door. Nothing. Just as you had left it. You opened it further and stepped out of the room when you were sure nothing was outside. Taking a few steps, you peaked out the front window. No footsteps, no prints of any kind. Maybe the house was just settling. You sighed and backed away from the window.

A strong grip caught your arm and it felt like your back had hit a wall, “Well,” that familiar gruff voice, “what’ve you been up to, little bunny?”

You turned to face Cassidy, making the most pitiful look you could give him. You looked up at him, mouth agape and struggling to respond, “Cas…”

There was something wrong. He was dirty, some reddish-brown stains covered his shirt in splatters. The look in his eyes was nothing short of primal. Aggressive, but not angry. Hungry.

“Best you answer me,” his grip tightened and you gasped in shock, leaning into him, “I ain’t in any mood to play games with you.”

It frightened you to see him like this. Like any misstep you toke would provoke him. Did he know you had deliberately broken his most important rule, or that you were just about to break another before he caught you? Should you play dumb or tell him the truth? He would’ve surely seen your silhouette in the snow if he had come from where the thud was. Even worse, he could read you like a book and knew precisely when you were lying. But you weren’t defenseless. You knew how to play to your strengths.

You swallowed, hesitantly, speaking with the sweet voice that he loved to hear, “I am very sorry, Daddy, I was so lonely without you. I just went outside to play in the snow, but it was too cold and I didn’t stay for long. That’s all, I promise.”

Cassidy hummed in response, low and aloof. His eyes were dark and you couldn’t detect any emotion from him, but a contemplative look. That usually wasn’t a good sign for you. He must’ve been thinking about what he should do with you.

He took your hand in his, raising it to his lips and placing a soft kiss, “You promise, darlin’?”

Something about his tone of voice sent shivers down your spine. It was playful and deliberate. Like he was about to call your bluff. But how could he? So you nodded, “Promise.”

A large, gloved hand squeezed your cheeks and your hands raised to meet his. His grip was tight and unrelenting, “Oh, honey…” he switched his grip from your face to your throat, you let out a choked gasp, “Thought you knew better than to lie to me.”

Your back was against the wall, Cassidy’s hand keeping you in place. You were gasping for air and holding onto his wrist for dear life. Tears rolled down your cheek and your eyes begged for mercy. But you had really fucked up this time. Jesse was already riled up from whatever business he had just returned from and he had warned you not to misbehave or there would be hell to pay. He was just cashing out on his threat.

“I am gettin’ real sick of your bratty attitude,” he loosened his fingers, allowing you to catch your breath, “Look like you need to be taught some fuckin’ manners.”

Your eyes went blurry, you saw only foggy shadows as Cassidy pulled you away from the wall and lifted you over his shoulder. You pleaded with him through choked sobs but your cries fell on deaf ears. All you could feel was the frigid winter air on your skin, leaving the cabin behind while Cassidy carried you into the shed.

“Now don’t you start with me,” he groaned as he sat you on a flimsy wooded workbench, “You need to fucking behave. Take your clothes off.”

It was freezing. You weren’t sure if you were shaking due to fear or the intense cold. You held onto your body, trying to retain any warmth you could, “Please, Cassidy, it’s too cold.”

He laughed, “That certainly didn’t stop you before, sweetheart. Now, strip before I really give you somethin’ to cry about.”

You could hardly feel anything at that point. Completely numb, you complied and disrobed. Cassidy didn’t say anything, just admired you before him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t anticipate having to punish you when he returned. And he was nothing short of eager to take the frustrations of his day out on you. Nothing satisfied him quite like seeing you like this, absolutely terrified and seeking mercy.

Once you were completely bare, he held you by your hips. He squeezed hard, wanting to leave a mark on you. His hands wandered upwards, fondling your body until he held you by the back of your neck.

You couldn’t help the fire that burned between your legs, mindlessly rocking your hips on the abrasive wood of the workbench. Looking at him through wet eyes, you reached out to feel him. He had his winter jacket on, furs draped over his shoulder and making his already towering figure even more menacing. You wanted him to embrace you, to give you the warmth you desperately needed. But he didn’t.

“Nah, baby, I’ve been too kind to you for far too long,” he took your wrist and gripped it with the same strength that he gripped your hips, “You do what you’re told and don’t test my patience, got it?”

You nodded eagerly, desperate to show your capitulation, “Yes, Daddy, I’ll do anything you ask.”

He hummed, pleased with your response, “I know you will, baby.”

But he didn’t give you a command. Instead, he decided to manhandle you himself, flipping you onto your stomach and pinning your arms behind your back. You wanted so badly to rut against him like a bitch in heat, desperate to quell that feeling between your legs but you had to follow his lead. He wanted to see you like this, overstimulated and touch-starved. Serves you right for misbehaving.

His gloves were still on. The fabric was rough against your already sensitive skin. He began kneading the soft skin in between your thighs, it took all of your will not to squeeze them together and fuck yourself into his hand. You behaved, breathing heavily and trying your best to conceal your moans.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he grabbed your ass and gave it a hard slap, “I want you to lose that sweet voice of yours when I’m done with you.”

Every touch was rough and left a mark on your skin. You cried, moaned, nearly scream as Cassidy abused your body as he pleased. Once he was satisfied, he loomed over your shaken form. His hand made its way to the swell of your ass again and gave it another sharp slap. Your throat was sore but you still managed to whine at the pain. But he wasn’t done with you yet. His thumbs spread you wide open, exposing you to the cold air while your hole was burning from the stretch of Cassidy’s fingers. You knew what he had in mind and tried to prepare yourself mentally for the pain.

You could never be full prepared, however, when Cassidy’s warm cock met with the entrance of your ass. He was far too big to slide into you with any ease, but he choose to stretch you around his cock the best he could anyway. If he had eased into you with his fingers, the burning wouldn’t be so bad, but you couldn’t accommodate his girth and the pain was unbearable. Screams escaped your lips and you were tempted to tell him to stop, but you knew where that would leave you. In much worse pain than this.

He spread you further, sunk into you deeper, and made you scream louder. It seemed like hours before he began to pump himself in and out of you, only halfway in. His hands locked into your hips and he continued to work his way into you. Whenever the pain became bearable, he would push himself deeper inside of you. Like he knew just how to keep you on edge. And all you could do was lay there and let him use you until he was satisfied you had learned your lesson.

By the time his cock was fully inside of you, Cassidy was already fucking you with reckless abandon. Content to just use you like a fleshlight with no regard to your cries. He kept an iron grip on your hips, keeping you in place while he rammed his cock into your abused hole, “Fuck, you’re tight. Gotta fuck you like this more often. Shit, if you keep misbehavin’ I might have to tie you out here for good. How would you like that, baby?”

You whined weakly. The shed was filled with the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and your cries that were muffled with every thrust. His pace grew faster and faster, and his moans turned into growls as he reached his peak. There was nothing for you to hold onto, nothing to keep you in place while Cassidy was reaching his climax. Your tender body scraped against the old, flimsy wood while he brutally fucked your ass.

But the feeling of his warm cum finally filling you, leaking out of the tight space that squeezed his cock and onto your legs, it felt so good. Anything that could give you relief from the cold would be welcome, and you spread your thighs further in an effort to leak out anymore cum.

Cassidy leaned over you, cock still buried inside you. His hands released your hips and you were happy to finally relax. He took his heavy jacket from his shoulders and wrapped it around you. It was finally over, you eagerly enveloped yourself in the warm fur of the coat and let out a sharp exhale.

“Damn baby,” Cassidy pulled himself out of you, wiped the juices on his cock onto your thigh, “I’ve killed plenty men for less than what you did tonight. But fuck if you don’t got a pretty face and a tight ass. Damn lucky, ya know that?”

You had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth, but you were inclined to believe him.

“Let’s get you inside,” he lifted you into his warm embrace, “get you cleaned up, how’s that sound?”

You looked up at him and he gave you a gentle smile, “I would love that, Daddy,” you whispered, not wanting to damage your throat any further.

He placed a kiss on your forehead and carried you inside the cabin. You were sore and it toke you ages for your body to get warm. Perhaps you might think twice in the future about indulging your penchant for mischief. But there was something about that wild, nasty side of Cassidy that lit a spark inside of you.