#this is not a scary place this is where I go to sneak around for fun

[hoshifighting]

      jeonghan + anonymous sex

— where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, mr. yoon.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, oral, halloween party setting, penetrative sex, oral [f. rec], dirty talk, edging, taboo, fingering.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

halloween at uni was always a wild time—like, the one night when everyone just let loose and acted like idiots without any shame. it was a free pass to look either insanely sexy or terrifying as hell, and you’d seen both ends of that spectrum in past years. mostly, you loved it ‘cause it was kinda like a game of guess-who after the party, everyone spending the week after trying to figure out who was who under those masks. and that’s why the costumes just got more and more wild. anonymity? sign you up.

you and jewie, your ride-or-die dormmate, had done the whole horror bit every year, rocking the most messed up, bloodied-up outfits you could think of. but this year you both decided to go full-on sexy for once. jewie was rocking this short-ass witch outfit, all black and lace and pointy hat, and you—well, you were killing it (pun intended) in your killer bunny getup. thigh-high lacy white socks that clung to your skin, corset cinching you in, and this creepy-ass bunny mask that made you look both cute and dangerous. not to mention, the whole mask thing meant anything could go down and nobody would know.

“yo, you really gonna leave a note in his locker?” jewie whispered, eyes sparkling as the two of you snuck into the staff wing, the sound of your heels echoing off the empty halls.

“hell yeah, i’ve been crushing on prof yoon since he walked into his first lecture looking like a whole-ass snack,” you hissed back, your heart racing.

she let out a cackle, almost too loud. “he’s gonna die when he sees it. also, maybe don't bend over like that unless you want your ass out for the world to see.”

you shot her a look over your shoulder, half squinting through your mask. “fuck you, i’m not gonna walk like i’ve got a stick up my ass.”

“babe, that’s your job,” she teased, slapping your ass as you fumbled with the lock on the door. she was always like that—pushy, teasing, but down for whatever dumb thing you suggested, no questions asked.

finally, you managed to crack open the door to prof yoon’s locker, and the nervous excitement flared up all over again. “i’m doin’ it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you slid the note into his stuff. just a stupid little flirty note. something anonymous and mysterious. if he recognized your handwriting? well, oops. that’s a future problem.

jewie watched, leaning against the doorframe, eyes flicking between you and the locker. “if he likes it, we might need to sneak you back in here to leave more. like a killer bunny pen pal situation.”

you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “he’s not that dumb, but if he was, i’d consider it.”

you straightened up, adjusting your mask before looking back at jewie. the whole night felt like some weird fever dream—maybe it was the booze from earlier or just the high of running around campus dressed like this, but you felt unstoppable.

“okay, let’s get outta here before we get caught,” jewie said, pushing herself off the wall. “i swear if we see anyone, i’m pretending i don’t know you.”

“bitch, please, you’d totally rat me out,” you shot back, nudging her as the two of you slipped out of the staff room, adrenaline still pumping.

you took a long sip from your pouch, the cheap booze hitting just right as you swayed along with jewie to the beat. then, mid-spin, you spotted something—or rather, someone—that made you freeze in place, your lips still wrapped around the straw.

“i can’t fucking believe it,” you muttered, pulling the straw out and sulking like a kid who just had their candy stolen.

jewie gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

you nodded toward the door, where another killer bunny had just strutted in, looking way too damn good for your liking. “look at that,” you said, gesturing with your drink. “bunny? okay, fine. but killer too? are you shitting me? what’re the odds?”

you huffed, feeling your vibe slightly killed by the sight of the other guy wearing basically the same damn thing as you—except he had this slutty, fitted black suit, and his mask was just as creepy as yours, that luscious black hair peeking out from behind it.

“wow,” jewie scoffed, following your gaze. “you’re really pressed about another killer bunny? seriously? it's halloween, dude, chill. everyone’s doubling up.”

“easy for you to say,” you muttered, still eyeing the guy. “you're not the only slutty witch in the room.”

she rolled her eyes, snorting. “uh, excuse me? i've seen, like, five other witches tonight, and one of them even had a broom—a broom, y/n. i just accepted it. it’s halloween.”

it was halloween, and sure, half the campus was probably dressed as witches, zombies, or sexy cops. but still, the nerve of this guy, strutting in like he invented the killer bunny look.

“and, you know what? my panties are in a twist, actually,” you shot back, glaring at jewie, who just gave you an unimpressed look. “like, literal twist. feels like they’re strangling me.”

she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “oh my god, you’re such a mess. there’s a whole locker room situation going on if you wanna fix it. no one’s gonna be in there anyway..”

“the locker room?” you hummed, considering it for a second. “yeah, might as well. better than walking around with my ass in knots.”

you slipped away from the party, the beat of the music fading as you made your way down the empty hallway, heels clacking against the floor. it was eerily quiet outside the main campus area, the darkness swallowing up the noise from the party like you were walking into another world. halfway there, though, you swore you heard something. footsteps, maybe? you glanced back over your shoulder, but the hallway was just as empty as before. shrugging it off, you kept walking.

then again—footsteps.

you whipped around, heart starting to race a bit. nothing. nobody. great, you thought. either you’re paranoid or some dude in a clown costume’s gonna jump out at you any second.

you sped up, practically rushing into the locker room, slamming the door behind you like that would keep the creepy vibes out. with a sigh, you lifted your skirt and fixed the tangled mess of fabric underneath. “goddamn,” you muttered, whistling in relief as the tension eased up. “finally.”

you made your way to the mirror, fluffing up your hair, adjusting your bunny ears, trying to look like you hadn’t just freaked yourself out. but then you heard it again—footsteps. this time, not so distant. real close.

before you could even react, the door creaked open, and there he was. the other killer bunny. strolling in like he owned the place, chill as could be, like it wasn’t the feminine locker room he’d just waltzed into.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare through the mirror. “stole my idea and my spot?”

he snorted, leaning against the sink with his back turned to the mirror, eyes just fixed forward, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “stole your idea? babe, i’ve been rockin’ this for ages.”

“you saw it from me!” you shot back, turning around to face him, pointing at him accusingly. “i should sue for copyright or some shit.”

he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly like he was amused by your little outburst. “you can have the bunny part. i’ll keep the killer part.”

“real original,” you scoffed, turning back to the mirror, fixing a stray curl in your hair. “and what’re you even doing in the locker room? you lost or just stupid?”

“neither,” he said simply, his voice way too smug for someone who looked like he just broke into the wrong locker room. “it was either this, or i piss in a bush somewhere. decided to be classy tonight.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah, real classy, creeping around the women’s locker room.”

he leaned closer, still not turning to look in the mirror. “who says i’m creeping? maybe you just walked into my locker room.”

“oh, so now it’s your locker room too? boy, you’re bold.”

“what can i say? bunny privileges,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you shook your head, turning to look at him fully now, sizing him up. he was tall, broad, the slutty suit clinging to him just right, his posture relaxed like he didn’t have a care in the world. and that hair, black and messy behind his mask—well, you’d give him one thing. he wore the costume well. too well.

“you know,” you said, leaning back against the sink next to him, crossing your arms. “if you’re tryna intimidate me, it’s not working. you’re just another bunny.”

he chuckled again, that low, almost lazy sound that somehow made your skin tingle. “maybe i’m not tryna intimidate you. maybe i’m just waiting for you to admit i look better.”

you scoffed, pushing off the sink and standing up straight, close enough now that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him. it was… annoyingly nice. “please, i wouldn’t give you that satisfaction even if you paid me.”

“we’ll... see about that?” he murmured, finally turning to face you, his body looming over yours. his mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes locked onto yours, like he could see right through the sass.

and there it was. that thing on your lower stomach that snuck up on you out of nowhere. “you really think you can handle me, bunny?” you teased.

he didn’t flinch. his lips twitched into a grin under the mask.

“handle you?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave. “baby, i’m just getting started.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer, testing him, seeing how far you could push. “then show me what you got.”

his hand was on you in a second, pulling you toward him with a firm grip on your waist, his breath hot through the mask. and suddenly, the empty locker room didn’t feel so empty anymore. his other hand slid down, grazing your thigh before hiking your skirt up. “you sure you wanna play this game?” he cooed, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

you let out a breathy laugh, your hands fisting into the fabric of his suit. “you started it.”

“yeah?” his grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, your bodies fitting together too perfectly. “then let me finish it.”

he leaned in for the kiss, but both of you realized, almost at the same time, that the stupid mask was in the way. your lips collided with the hard plastic, and for a second, it was awkward as hell—until you both burst into laughter. “yeah, that’s not gonna work,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“guess we’ll just have to improvise,” he murmured back, and before you knew it, he had spun you around, pressing your hips firmly against the cold sink. the chill of the ceramic made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the way his fingers slid under the elastic of your garter, pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back on ur skin.

“fuck,” you hissed, as the sting amde your pussy drool. he was watching you through that damn mask, his fingers traced the hem of your skirt before he flipped it over your lower back, exposing the white lacy set you’d chosen to match the whole killer bunny thing.

“fuckin’ cute,” he growled as he took in the sight of your barely-there panties and thigh-highs. “you really wore this for halloween? shit’s a fuckin’ joke,”

the degradation in his tone made your cheeks burn, you bit down on your lip, trying to keep your composure, he noticed everything.

“what’s the matter?” he asked, mock concern as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp again. “you like being called cute while i fuck you up?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down painfully slow, the lace barely clinging to your hips before he let them drop to your ankles. you kicked them off instinctively, your breath hitching when you saw him bend down slightly, he picked them up off the floor, turning the flimsy lace in his fingers for a second before shoving them deep into his pocket.

“gonna keep these,” he muttered, half to himself, half to you. standing up straight again. his hands, slid up your legs, spreading them just a bit more. the rough pads of his fingers brushed against the inside of your thighs, teasing you, waiting for you to beg, or break.

and god, you were close to breaking already.

one hand held your waist firmly in place, pressing you harder against the sink, while the other slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding against your wetness with an agonizing slowness.

“oh.. all soaked already?” he muttered, like he knew exactly how ruined you were just from his touch. “and we haven’t even started. you’ve been thinking about this? about me bending you over, fingers deep in this pretty little pussy?”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as his middle and ring fingers dipped inside, your pussy swallow him immediately, even when the skin burns a little with the stretch. his long fingers immediately finding that sweet, squishy spot, for a moment, resting the fingers there.

he kept the pads of his fingers facing down, rubbing slow, tight circles against that sensitive spot, making you clench around him. you've never been stimulated like this, it looked so different and knowing for a college boy. the sensation was enough to make your knees weak, but his grip on your hips kept you steady, held in place as he worked you open.

he leaned down, the mask still in place, but you could feel the heat of him behind you. “you hear that? hear how fucking wet you are? all for me, huh?”

you did, in fact, it echoed in the empty locker room, as you try to be quiet. but you moaned in response, your head falling forward, resting on your arms as you tried to catch your breath. every stroke of his fingers had your pussy tightening, thighs shaking, and you were half-sure you’d collapse if it weren’t for the him keeping you upright.

his other hand moving up your back just enough so he could press his lips against your bare shoulder. you felt him lift the mask just slightly, and then his mouth was on you, kissing, biting, his teeth grazing your skin in a manner that had you arching into him.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered. “so sweet. but i bet you taste even better down here.”

you groaned in frustration when you realized he was still wearing that damn mask, completely blocking the possibility of him going down on you. he noticed the way you moaned extra loud, probably because you’d been imagining it—his mouth between your legs, tasting how worked up you were.

he cooed, amused by your reaction, shaking his head like you were some kind of innocent mess. “fuck baby, i’d love to, but this mask is getting in the way. you know that.” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, like it wasn’t torture for you. and god, that whimper that left your throat? pathetic. even you knew it. you rolled your hips on his fingers, desperate for something, anything to replace what you couldn’t have right now. the wet, slick sound of his fingers working into you echoed around the room, filling the space with a vulgar kind of music that had him biting his lip, watching you fall apart over nothing.

“oh, you really want it bad, huh?” he laughed, and you whined again, the sound so embarrassingly needy that it should’ve made you blush. but instead, it only made you more desperate. his teasing was too much.

“fuck,” you muttered, half-begging, and he pulled back a bit, thinking for a second before a playful smirk took over his lips.

“let’s play a game then,” he offered, your brows furrowed in confusion, but the second he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, you felt your whole body heat up in response. “we take the masks off. but,” he paused, his fingers still torturing you, making your hips twitch every time he pressed just right. “we keep our eyes closed. i’ll eat you out, i’ll do anything you want, but no peeking.”

you hummed at the idea, already thinking of how good it would feel to have him without the barrier of those stupid masks. but before you could even respond, he tilted his head, adding with a teasing lilt, “but first... i gotta fuck you. because you’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty squirming around my fingers like this.” his voice softened into something almost sweet, like he was praising you, and the way he cooed when you shyly squirmed against his hand, embarrassed by his words, had your body tightening in response. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

you were nodding before you even realized, the words barely out of your mouth before you agreed to it. the mask was yanked off, tossed to the side, and you felt him pull away slightly. you didn’t dare look back at him, though—you kept your promise, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.

you felt him shift behind you, the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants filling the locker room with a sharp, exciting edge. his fingers left you with a wet pop, and the sound made you shiver. god, you could still hear it—how soaked you were, how turned on he’d made you. your body reacted to the absence of his touch with a small gasp, but the moment you felt his warm breath near your ear again, your nerves melted away.

“don’t open your eyes,” he warned in that same serious tone, even though you could practically hear the smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep still. his fingers returned, now gripping your hips firmly, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more.

“good girl,” he murmured, guiding you to bend further over the sink. your chest pressed against the cold surface, your eyes squeezed shut, but you could feel everything. you were painfully aware of how exposed you were to him, the skirt flipped up, your wetness on full display.

the blunt head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and heavy, and you braced yourself, but he didn’t push in. instead, he slid it up, dragging it along your folds, teasing your clit and the leaking hole. the sensation had your toes curling, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “you just gonna rub it?”

he chuckled darkly, pressing the tip against your entrance again but not entering. “thought i’d take my time, make you beg a little more.”

you groaned, squirming under him, your hips moving on their own as you chased the penetration. you could feel him smiling behind you, still teasing, but his hand was firm on your hips, holding you steady as he slowly dragged his cock up and down, brushing against your clit every time. it was maddening, the way he was holding back, making you wait, making you ache for him.

“you want it that bad, hm?” he asked, and before you could even answer, he pushed in, sliding into you with a slick, deep thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs as you watch pitch black. “fuck, there it is.”

you moaned, the sudden fullness overwhelming, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as he held you in place, his cock buried deep inside. he didn’t move at first, just let you adjust to the stretch, but his hands were still moving—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he groaned low in his throat.

“ah!–don' squeeze me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips grinding into yours rolling the dick in and out of you. “taking me so well... pretty pussy devouring my cock.”

you whimpered at his praise, your body trembling with every slow stroke. he wasn’t holding back anymore, his pace picking up, his hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing light, quick circles that had you moaning loudly.

the thing was;

his eyes had been wide open the whole time.

he was practically glowing with the fact that you hadn’t recognized him at all. he knew it was you from the second you stepped into the party, making him choke on his own spit, all dressed up in that killer bunny costume, and it made him feel like he was holding onto the biggest secret ever. you had no idea who you were fucking, and that made everything ten times hotter.

as you leaned over the sink, he got a perfect view of your face blushing beneath your expertly done makeup, all those little details you’d spent hours perfecting. the way the light caught the shimmer on your cheeks, the dark eyeliner framing your eyes just right—it was beautiful. even though you planned on hiding your face with that mask for the entire night.

he pretended to keep his eyes closed, even though he could barely contain his excitement. “i hope you don't open your eyes hm? you wouldn't want to lose me eating you out, right?” he’d said with a smirk, watching as you nodded obediently. you were so good at this—everything about you, from the way you shifted on the sink to the way you were biting your lip in need, made him ache to see your true reaction when you finally figured it out.

he could feel your nervous energy as you followed his lead, trusting him completely. it was almost comical how easy it was to manipulate the situation, how horny you were, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.

“you’ve got no idea how fucking cute you moan,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he continued to thrust into you. the way you squirmed made him even harder, and he could feel his own arousal rising at the thought of keeping this secret just a little longer.

“shut up,” you whined, clearly flustered by his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. god, you were adorable. he kept it playful, teasing you even more as he leaned down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing a line up your neck as he continued to roll his hips into you. “just focus on how good you feel.”

every thrust sent a quiver through you, and he could feel you responding to him, getting wetter with every move. you were lost in it, and he was completely taken by the way your body reacted to his touch. he loved how your sounds filled the space, how you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as he picked up the pace, fucking you deeper.

“tell me how good it feels.”

“so good, you feel so good—your cock—s'big!” you breathed, and he reveled in the power he had over you. he could see the way your body squirmed beneath him, anguished for more, and it only pushed him to keep going.

“that’s right, keep saying it,” he encouraged, his fingers curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as he hit that sweet spot inside you. “i want to hear everything, since i cant see it.”

he could feel you tightening around him, your that sweet release pulsing, and just when you were about to hit that peak, he pulled out, leaving you gasping “what the fuck?!” you cried, your voice high-pitched with desperation, eyes still closed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, knowing just how good you felt, but wanting to keep you on that brink a little longer.

“patience, bunny,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you’ll get what you want.”

with that, he pushed back into you, driving deep and hard, and the sound of your moan filled the locker room. “yes! please!” you begged, fingers digging into the sink as you rocked back against him.

but again, right when you were so close, he slipped out. “no, no, don’t do that!” you whined, the desperation in your voice making him grin. “i was so close!”

“i won’t let you cum on my cock,” he said, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he watched your expression crumble. your face fell against your arms in defeat, sulking like a petulant child. “why?” you whined, the sulk evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but scoff at how adorable you looked, all flustered and desperate.

just then, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging enough to make you almost open your eyes. the sudden pressure made a strangled moan escape your throat, and he loved it.

he slowly turned you around, guiding you to sit on the cold sink. you cursed under your breath, your legs instinctively spreading wide as you positioned yourself for him.

“this is so unfair, i cant see you...” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about how you couldn’t see what he was doing. you could hear the sound of your breath quickening as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the idea of him between your legs making you almost cum on spot.

“you don’t need to see it, babe,” he said, all sultry. fuck you needed to know who he was, and with that, you could feel him get closer, his breath hot against your pussy, making you squirm.

“you’re such an ass for doing this to me,” you groaned, but deep down, you were practically begging for it, and you knew it. he laughed softly, the sound thundering in his chest as he spread your legs wider, giving himself a perfect view of your pussy, the folds puffy, and flushed, dripping beautifully.

a sudden creak from somewhere down the hallway snapped you out of the fog of pleasure, and, instinctively, you opened your eyes. it took a second to adjust, to blink away the haze clouding your vision, but then you looked down—straight at him.

and—

mr. yoon?

“shh,” he whispered, a finger pressed to his own lips, a hint of a smirk twitching as he maintained eye contact with you, even as his head dipped between your legs. you wanted to pull back, to process that your professor was there, settled on his knees in front of you in a locked room, but his mouth had already found your clit.

“oh my god,” you moan, in disbelief, in pure ecstasy. he starts sucking your clit with so hard that makes you dizzy, and your back arches instinctively, the sensations overwhelming. your mind races, but the sight of him—mr. yoon, your strict, no-nonsense professor—eating you out is enough to push you right back over the edge.

you bite your lip to stifle your cries, but it’s no use. the combination of the taboo and the sucking sends you spiraling into the orgasm, and you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue as you cum in his mouth, a whimper escaping your lips.

“holy—” you breathe, panting as he pulls away, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of you.

he raises up to kiss you, but you back away instinctively, the shock paralyzing you.

“wait, you didn’t like that it was… me?” he asks, worry flashing across his eyes.

your mind is racing. so he was the one fucking you? after the letter—oh my god. “i… i didn’t know it was you!” you manage to stammer.

he licks his cum-covered lips, that sly grin still in place. he steps back slightly, still unsure of what to say. “so… you liked it, then?”

“well, yeah, but—” you start, but the words fail you. how do you even explain this? how do you tell your professor that he just made you come like that, and it was one of the best experiences of your life?

you catch his gaze, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of worry in mr. yoon’s eyes. he's probably already imagining that expulsion letter or the scandal that’d blow up his career.

“relax,” you murmur, smirking as he watches you. “i’m not about to go blabbing to the dean or anything.” he quirks a skeptical brow, clearly not convinced yet, and you give him a playful shrug. “but only if… you get on your knees again and show me just how much you wanna keep me quiet.”

the corner of his mouth lifts. “oh, is that right?” he murmurs, and before you know it, he’s stepping forward, hands sliding around your waist as he leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“guess i’ll have to make sure you’re too busy to even think about talking,” he whispers.

[...]

monday rolls around, and it’s like the entire campus is still buzzing about the halloween party. people are dissecting every detail, trying to figure out who was behind which mask. you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to read the same damn paragraph for the fifth time, but let’s be real—there’s only one thing on your mind: mr. yoon’s dick.

jeonghan’s up at the front, leaning against his desk, teaching as if nothing happened, and you can barely keep a straight face. every time you glance up, you can’t help but picture the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands, his mouth… yeah, not the kind of thoughts you should be having in the middle of class.

the bell finally rings, snapping you out of it as everyone starts packing up. your friend pauses by the door, waiting, but just as you’re about to leave, mr. yoon clears his throat.

“y/n,” he says, there’s that hint of something under it, something only you would catch. “stay a moment, would you?”

you wave your friend off, muttering something about catching up later. she glances between the two of you and, of course, shoots you a knowing smile before shutting the door on her way out. it’s just you and jeonghan now, the room empty and quiet, his gaze pinned on you.

he raises an eyebrow, and his eyes flick towards the closed door. “should i be worried about that smile she gave you?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you blink, caught off guard. “no! no one knows about… us,” you insist, a bit too quickly.

he scoffs, giving you this look like he’s amused but skeptical. “oh, i know that,” he says smoothly, but then he taps his finger on his desk. “but she definitely knows… about this.”

with a dramatic flourish, he slides open a drawer and pulls out the letter. your stomach drops as he lays it out on his desk for you to see, the unmistakable swoop of your handwriting there in all its glory, complete with little heart and butterfly stickers surrounding a mortifyingly filthy sentence.

“wanna feel your cock hitting the deepest part of my pussy until i can’t even remember my name.”

you freeze, face heating up instantly. oh, god. did you really write that?

he chuckles softly, watching you squirm as you avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in the stack of textbooks on his desk. you press your lips together, practically biting down to keep from making any sound, because your brain is malfunctioning.

“so,” he murmurs, “did you really mean every word?”

[00valentina-writes00]

Dating Sevika headcanons (sfw sorry gang)

————————————————————————

•You once tried to steal her cigar as a joke. Big mistake. Sevika caught you mid-act, lifted you with one arm, and said, “Cute. Don’t do it again.” You still did it again.

•Sevika’s idea of cooking is tossing something in a pan and hoping for the best. She’ll scoff at recipes and mutter, “I don’t need instructions.” Spoiler: she absolutely needs instructions. Burnt toast has become a running joke in your relationship.

•Every time she gets into a bar fight, you’re in the background yelling, “Not the face! I love her face!” She pretends not to hear you while decking someone twice her size.

•She once used her metal arm to open a stubborn jar of pickles. Now she’s your go-to for all tough jar lids. She grumbles, but you caught her smiling the third time.

•Sevika hates when you try to join her poker games. You can’t keep a straight face, and the other players eat you alive. She’s banned you from sitting at her table, but you keep sneaking in to “help her win.”

•If someone so much as glances at you wrong, she’ll glare at them until they shrink back into their seat. Once, a drunk guy tried to flirt with you at The Last Drop. Sevika didn’t even stand up; she just cracked her knuckles, and he bolted.

•Sevika doesn’t do romantic pillow talk. Instead, she’ll grumble about how “these damn chem-barons can’t organize for shit,” then roll over and fall asleep. You’ve learned to just nod along and kiss her forehead.

•You tried to kiss her while she had a cigar in her mouth. She just deadpanned, “You wanna taste smoke that bad?” and blew a puff right at you.

•She’ll act annoyed when you dote on her—calling her “big, scary Sevika” or pinching her cheeks—but secretly, she lives for your attention. She once sulked for hours when you forgot to kiss her goodbye.

•She rarely gets drunk, but when she does, she becomes weirdly sentimental. She’ll hold your face in her hands, stare at you with bleary eyes, and slur, “You’re too good for me. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

•On her rare days off, Sevika becomes the ultimate couch potato. You’ll find her sprawled out, watching trashy reality shows with the volume way too high. She’ll deny it later, but you’ve caught her rooting for her favorite contestant.

•She’ll never admit she’s wrong in an argument. But later, she’ll shove your favorite snack into your hands as a peace offering. That’s as close to an apology as you’re getting.

•Sevika loves making you laugh, though she won’t admit it. She’ll mutter something sarcastic under her breath just to hear you giggle, then pretend she didn’t care.

•Once, you heard a noise outside at night. Sevika grabbed a crowbar, stormed outside, and returned five minutes later saying, “It was just a cat. Go back to bed.” You’re 90% sure she scared that cat into never coming back.

•Every now and then, Sevika will surprise you with something sweet—a trinket from the market, a rare flower she found, or even just a quiet moment where she pulls you into her lap and murmurs, “I missed you.” She’ll act like it’s no big deal, but you know better.

•If someone so much as looks at you wrong, Sevika is ready to throw hands. She’ll casually step in front of you, her massive frame blocking the offender, and ask with a chillingly calm voice, “You got something to say?” Spoiler: they don’t.

•Sevika doesn’t do flowers or chocolates, but she’ll slide a bag of your favorite snacks across the table with a gruff, “Saw these on my way back.” Or she’ll casually fix something broken around your place, claiming it’s no big deal.

•Sevika loves having you sit on her lap. Whether you’re watching a game at The Last Drop, lounging at home, or just chatting, her favorite place for you is right on her thighs. She’ll rest her chin on your shoulder and mutter how lucky she is to have you.

•Sevika loves making sure everyone knows you’re hers. A possessive hand on your waist, a kiss in a crowded room, or a quiet, low-toned threat to anyone who tries to flirt with you—she’s got it all covered.

•While she’s the definition of tough to everyone else, Sevika melts for you. She’ll roll her eyes when you call her “soft,” but she secretly loves it when you snuggle up to her or kiss her scarred cheek.

•If you catch her doing something sweet—like tucking a blanket around you or cooking breakfast—she’ll grumble, “Don’t get used to it,” while secretly hoping you do.

•Sevika has a habit of holding her cigar out to you, offering you a puff with a teasing smirk. She’ll chuckle if you cough but will be unreasonably proud if you manage to handle it.

•Sevika notices everything about you. If you’re feeling down, she’ll subtly try to cheer you up without making a big deal out of it. If you’re tired, she’ll drag you to bed (even if you protest).

•Sevika thinks it’s hilarious when you try to arm wrestle her. She’ll let you think you’re winning for a few seconds before slamming your hand down with a wicked grin.

•Sevika is not a morning person. If you try to wake her up early, she’ll groan, bury her face in the pillow, and mumble something about five more minutes—which turns into an hour.

•Sevika is strong, resilient, and seemingly unshakable—but when it comes to you, she’s a goner. You’re her world, her light, and the reason she fights so hard to survive.

[lovelivision]

GHOSTLY ROMANCE ♡

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader

𝐖𝐂: 8k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when it becomes blatantly obvious your house is being haunted, the only thing there is for you to do is coexist but what do you do when that ghostly presence haunting your house begins haunting your heart ??

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, making out, obsessive! toji, ghost! toji, slight perv! toji, toji has a big dick, dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism (?), p in v sex, squirting, creampie, f!reader, reader referred to as 'woman', i think that's all ♡

As of late, you’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that your house is haunted, and you aren’t really sure how to react. Often times, you’ll find things aren’t where you left them, some objects are moved just slightly of where they were, and other things are found in completely different rooms.

Sometimes when you go to lock your doors and windows for the night, you find it’s already been done. Innocuous and for the most part these are things you could brush off as you being absent minded, the kicker comes when you start seeing a figure out the corner of your eye or in a passing reflection.

Ignoring it all has been your go to, deciding it’s best to just pretend it’s not happening, and you would continue to keep doing so but your sleep is getting interrupted now and if there is anything you don’t get in between, it’s you and your sleep.

The dreams you’ve been having have started to wander into the obscure territory of some man you don’t recognise living in your house. He walks around like he owns the place, locking doors, closing curtains. It’s not particularly scary but it is unsettling and leaves you feeling unrested, like you didn’t sleep much at all.

Now, as you’re trying to get some well-deserved rest, something goes bump in the night, and you just know it’s that stupid man haunting your house. Frustratedly, you kick the covers off your body and stomp down the hall to where you think the sound originated from.

Arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, you wait for something, anything, but of course nothing comes. This ghost, entity, or whatever, that’s haunting you started off as easy to ignore and now it’s pissing you off greatly, you just want some damn sleep.

“You got me here, you got me out of bed so you must want something,” your foot continues to tap, increasing pace with your bad mood.

The room continues to be blanketed by the quiet you so badly wanted while you were drifting to sleep, “You’re so rude, haunting me with stupid dreams and moving my shit…” you’re grumbling to yourself, “…haven’t slept well in over a week and now I can’t even get to sleep!”

Still, the room is filled by the deafening silence that usually lingers in your house at this hour, “Great… and now I’m talking to myself, I’m going fucking crazy.”

As you turn to leave the room, you bump into something that feels as stiff as a board. You take a few steps back at it and you’re met with someone’s chest. The person in front of you leans down until they meet your face, his tone deep and monotone when he lets out a low, “Boo.”

It almost feels like the blood drains out of your body at the sight of him and before you have time to really process, your hand is reaching back and up to give him a hard slap right across the face. A small yelp leaving you at it, the smack resounding throughout the otherwise quiet house.

When you draw your hand back, it’s to cover your mouth as you gasp at just how hard you seemed to have slapped him, apology tumbling from your lips and you can only really say it’s because of how shocked you are by the force you used, “I’m so sorry, oh my God, that sounded really bad… did that hurt?”

He’s stoic for a moment before cracking a smile and chuckling at your shocked apology, “Not quite the reaction I was looking for.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you…” you trail off, suddenly regretting all your apologies, “Hey! You’re the one who should be apologising to me.”

He’s still far too amused for your liking, “What for? You’re the one who hit me.”

“You quite frankly deserved it,” your brows furrow as you eye him over, you expected something more… ghoulish but he appears to just be some man.

“I don’t think so, I’ve done nothing to you…” he’s talking but you’re not really paying attention, confused by his appearance and, honestly, existence.

Your finger moves towards him, poking at his chest, something you think you shouldn’t be able to do. He’s firm, obviously corporeal, it’d surprise you more if you hadn’t just slapped him as hard as you did.

You’re lost in your thoughts as you continue to poke at him. He cuts himself off to grab your wrist, “–What are you doing?”

“Are you just some guy? Are you just some man in my house right now?” You’re beginning to freak out, much more amenable to the idea of a ghost in your house over some stranger, “I have to call the cops…” you try tugging away, quickly growing more fearful.

He’s rolling his eyes at you like you’re overreacting, “Calm down.”

Your eyes are big and round as you look up at him, scared out of your mind as the idea of some man in your house settles in your bones, “No, I think I’m going to keep being scared.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not human…” he squints at you, “Anymore.”

Rightly sceptical when you utter back, “I don’t know if I believe you…”

He seems annoyed at your unwillingness to take him at his word, sighing as he turns and walks out of the room… through the wall. You wait a moment for him to come back but he doesn’t, you’re left in the room alone, wondering if that little interaction actually happened or if you’ve finally lost it.

Another moment passes, waiting, just in case he appears again before you resign yourself to the fact that you’re beginning to hallucinate from lack of sleep. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and walk back to your room, only to be met with the sight of him laying leisurely on your bed.

“I’ve gone insane,” you mumble to yourself, “I’m losing my fucking mind in this house alone.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re sane, from what I’ve seen anyways,” He shrugs, “A little spacey but otherwise.”

His words have you glaring at him, “You ever been told you’re annoying?”

“Not for a long time, no,” his smirk is lopsided.

You approach the foot of your bed, looking at him with your arms crossed, “Right… okay, well, you’re annoying.”

His own arms are supporting his head, clearly very comfortable in your bed, “You’ve only spoken to me for a few minutes, I might grow on you.”

A scowl overtakes your face, “I really doubt it.”

His smile feels condescending, “I think it’s your only option, either you get used to me or you move out because this was my house first, sorry doll.”

“I’m still not fully convinced you’re not just some guy in my house,” how are you meant to tell if you’ve gone insane? Maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.

“I technically am…” he tilts his head at you, “I’m just not alive.”

There are so many questions you have, and you aren’t even sure if you’d believe any of his answers, “If you’re a ghost why can I touch you?”

Stretching out slightly, he groans before answering, “Because I let you, how else would I be moving your shit around?”

“So, you are moving my things around!” You’re pointing at him like some huge mystery has been solved.

He looks at you like it should be obvious at this point that it was him, taking the wind out of your sails with a single look.

Coughing slightly, you cross your arms again, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment you’re currently feeling, “Why are you touching my things and why show yourself now?”

“You yelled at me to show myself,” he rolls his neck, “Thought I’d be polite and give an introduction.”

“Some introduction… you didn’t even give me your name,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on, “You only answered one of my questions.”

A soft sigh leaves him, like this whole conversation is becoming tedious, “I get bored.”

“Really? That’s your answer? I’ve been wondering if I’m crazy or if my house is haunted and even losing sleep over stupid dreams of your stupid face and you’re telling me it’s because you’re bored.”

He purses his lips, like he’s trying to hide a smile, “Pretty much.”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” your hands are on your hips, prominent frown plastered on your face, “Get out.”

“I can’t technically leave,” he tries to reason with you.

“I don’t care, I know you can disappear and leave me alone so do that,” you’re so tired and cranky, you just want to go to sleep and pretend this never happened, “I want to sleep, and I want it to be peaceful so leave me alone and get out!”

“So bossy,” he grumbles as he gets up, leaning down into your space as he walks past you, “I like that in a woman.”

You fight the involuntary shiver that wants to run down your spine, beyond pissed off at Casper the annoying ghost. Why did your house have to be haunted? Why couldn’t you live a peaceful and normal life? These are all things you wonder as you crawl into bed, determined to get some sleep tonight.

ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐

In the morning, you think what had happened last night was some obscure dream, and you’d probably go on thinking that way if your ghostly house guest didn’t appear in front of you while you’re in the middle of breakfast.

Your spoon clatters to your bowl with a gasp, “Don’t!” You sigh loudly, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” He leans back into the chair across from you.

“Don’t just appear,” you grumble to yourself, “Almost thought I had made up all of last night.” So close to having a normal life, you can see it now floating out of your grasp.

“Sorry, doll, I’m very real and I very much live here.”

That earns him a scoff, “You’re a freeloader.”

“Excuse me?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.

You repeat it for him slower, “You. Are. A. Freeloader.”

“I heard you,” his eye almost twitches.

Leaning back in your chair, you cross your arms, looking away from him and out the window, “Then don’t act like you didn’t.”

“I could kill you,” he threatens.

You don’t feel inclined to take him seriously, “So could my neighbour, you’re not special.” Your gaze is fixed out the window, watching said neighbour walking to collect his mail. When you turn back to your unwanted companion his glare is pointed and very clearly unhappy which only has you rolling your eyes at him, “You’d really kill me because I called you a freeloader?”

A quiet hum leaves him, “I’m considering it.”

“Drama queen,” it’s murmured but you know he heard it, especially if his growing scowl is anything to go off.

“Shouldn’t you be more scared or something?”

Your eyes squint at him, leaning over the table slightly as you provoke, “Oh, I bet you’d love that.”

“I would actually,” he almost sounds exasperated which only has you growing amused.

You decide to try bargaining with him, “Listen, if you’re gonna freeload here the least you can do is stay out of my way.”

“I liked you better last night when you were scared.”

You take a mouthful of your breakfast, pointing at him with your spoon when you reply, “Well, I liked you better a few months ago when it was significantly easier to ignore your presence.”

It’s quiet, no reply coming from him, leaving it up to you to continue the conversation if you want answers, “What do you even want? Because if you really do plan on killing me I’ll tell you now that the next person who lives here will not be as cute as I am.”

He deadpans at your joke, “You’re hilarious.”

“I know,” you flick your head like you’re flipping luxurious hair.

Already seemingly sick of you when he grumbles, “I already regret showing myself to you.”

“Good, this is much more of an ordeal for me you know? Not only do I know ghosts exist now but there is some guy in my house all the time, how am I meant to go on with my daily life?”

“Not really my problem,” he brushes off your concern.

Being honest, you say, “I don’t like you.”

To which he returns with a big grin, “I’ll grow on you.”

ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐

You wish so badly that he didn’t, but he does, he grows on you. It’s nice coming home to someone, having someone to talk to while you eat or do mundane chores. It’s been a few months now and you thought he would be more of a bother, but you think you might be the one bothering him.

It’s funny how you didn’t realise how lonely you were until you finally had someone to spend time with. Early on he told you his name, Toji, he told you he used to live here, and that he died in the house. He still hasn’t disclosed to you how he died, and you don’t want to intrude by asking so you don’t. He’s still quite young so you imagine it wasn’t by natural causes which only deters you from wanting to probe for any more information from him.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d recognise that you’re beginning to crush on a ghost but since that seems like something so far out of the realm of ever possibly happening, you squash down the feelings. And when that doesn’t work, you try avoiding him, which is not exactly a fool proof plan when he’s the ghost haunting your house who doesn’t need to sleep.

For the third weekend in a row, you’re sneaking into your own house late, having been out all night with friends just to avoid spending the whole day with Toji. It’s his fault though! He’s hot and also a huge flirt and he makes your heart race, and none of these thoughts are holy so you decided to just avoid him altogether.

Kicking your shoes off at the door, you sneak through the house and into your room, thinking you’ve successfully changed and gotten into bed without him noticing. Victory short lived when he appears next to you on your bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip suddenly.

You scrabble for a second, not expecting the shift, body falling into his. Sheepishly, you look up at him, hand pressed to his chest trying to give yourself some space to think, not used to this proximity. You purposefully keep your distance from him, and it feels like he purposefully gets in yours.

He’s quick to get to the point, “Where were you?”

“Out with some friends…” Hesitance clear in your answer.

“Again,” It’s a question but it doesn’t really sound like one.

“…Yeah.”

His eyes scan your face intently and it has you shying away from him, “You’re being odd,” he states abruptly.

Immediate response being defensiveness, “Because I’m going out with my friends?”

“No, that’s not it, it’s the frequency, you used to spend most weekends home alone.”

Still, you can’t get used to how he knows these things about you, “Okay we’re just gonna ignore that you know that about me.”

Again, he doesn’t beat around the bush, “Don’t change the topic, you’ve been avoiding me.”

Gaze averting his as you stumble out a small, “That’s not true.”

His eyes meet yours with a pointed look, clearly not believing your half assed lie, “Come on, doll, if I’ve done something to upset you I’d prefer you just say it.”

“You’ve not done anything,” you jump to assure him, not wanting him to feel bad for no reason. “You’re the best ghost anyone could ask to haunt their house.”

Ignoring your attempt at humour he pushes for more, “Then what is it?”

An awkward pause shared between you as you try to think of an excuse, “Uhm… My friends… have just been wanting to see me more is all, it has nothing to do with you…”

“Mhm…” you can tell he doesn’t believe you, but he can’t go much further than this, he was as blunt as he could be and hit a brick wall. “Well, I want to see you more too.”

You roll your eyes gently at that, ignoring the excitement his words illicit, “Toji, we live together.”

Expression sour when he retorts, “It doesn’t feel like it lately.”

It’s cute how he’s almost pouting, it’d be cuter if you didn’t feel completely awful for ghosting him. You still get to see each other throughout the day but you work during the week, and you haven’t been spending much free time with him lately, often opting for going out instead. If avoiding him like this is going to keep making him feel bad you don’t want to keep doing it.

Taking the safe option, you choose to make the time spent together productive, “I’ll be home this weekend… I have a bunch of laundry to do though so it might not be fun.”

His smile is crooked, “Alright… got my eyes on you though, doll,” he means it in a light-hearted way, but you think you’ve actually hurt him.

“Okay…” you wait a moment for him to leave but he doesn’t, you’re still too close to him and he’s not moving. The silence in the room deafening as you can only look at him and wait for his next move.

When he doesn’t say anything, you prompt, “Toji… are you gonna leave?”

“Do you want me to?” His gaze is on your lips, hand reaching to cradle your face and just when you think he might lean in to kiss you, he pecks the top of your head, “Night.” It’s the last thing he says before he disappears into thin air.

Your heart feels like it might explode, beating a mile a minute at how he seemed to almost kiss you. The disappointment that settled in you when he didn’t uncomfortable, were you just reading into things or did he actually want to kiss you.

The covers get pulled up over your head as you grumble to yourself, how the hell are you meant to sleep now… he’s confusing you and it’s so unfair. You’d probably get over your feelings for him if he didn’t also show interest in you like this, he’s giving you hope, and it doesn’t feel good.

ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐

Ever since the night Toji almost kissed you, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, almost operating like a zombie as you go through the motions at home and at work. Every time you saw him it felt like your skin was on fire, like you might spontaneously burst into flames.

This week has been especially trying because it seems like he actually has been watching you closer than usual. Normally he would give you some more space, but it was almost like every time you were in one of the main areas of the house, he was also there. He’s not the type you’d peg for being clingy but then again, you didn’t take your house to be the haunted kind so what do you know.

Getting lost in your thoughts while fiddling with your poor-quality sink isn’t the best course of action, but it doesn’t seem like you’re making any good choices in life right now. While trying to tighten the faucet by hand, it decides to punish you for being absent minded and sprays water all down your front.

Quickly, you rush to stop the water, all kinds of expletives leave you as your hands slip over the metal. When the water finally stops your hands grab the edge of the counter, slumping against it.

A shiver runs down your spine before you hear him speak, “You really should pay more attention to what you’re doing.”

“It’s not my fault, this sink sucks!” If you had slightly less emotional regulation you might stomp your feet about it all.

He laughs at your frowny face, “I always meant to get it replaced.”

Turning to face him, you huff, “This sink is the bane of my existence.”

“It’s not all bad,” his eyes track down your front, “I did get to see you in a wet shirt because of it.”

“You’re unbearable,” you groan.

“And yet you’ve never tried to exorcise me.”

“You know what, that’s a good option to keep in mind, thanks,” you smile sarcastically at him before wandering down the hall, muttering to yourself, “Well… at least it’s laundry day today I guess…”

Toji is hot on your trail, not speaking, just following you around the house as you collect all your laundry. If you had to describe it, you’d probably say he was hovering, like he’s waiting for you to crack and tell him why you’ve been avoiding him.

You would love to talk to him about what’s bothering you but how exactly does one go about telling the hot ghost that you coexist with that you want to jump his bones, there must be a wiki how page for that online somewhere. The absurdity of the situation is almost enough to make you laugh, almost.

“You in there, doll?” Toji’s voice shocks you back down to Earth.

Dropping the shirt you’d been holding for too long into the washer as you reply, “Hmm? Yeah… I’m here, what’s up?”

“You know you’ve always been a little spacey, but it’s been worse lately.” His head tilts at you, like he’s observing your behaviours.

Throwing a glance his way as you refute, “I am not spacey.”

He looks away from you like he’s avoiding engaging with you on that topic any further, “I’m just asking if you’re okay, Something on your mind?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” dragging out the word as you squint at him.

The exasperated tone he uses is not lost on you, “Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Didn’t we establish last week that I haven’t been?” Ignoring his stare as you continue to load the washing machine.

“No, we established that you’re lying about not avoiding me.”

The persistence he displays is almost admirable, “You’re annoying.”

“So are you but less so lately,” response quick on his tongue.

“Maybe I’ve reflected on my previous ways and decided to be a better person.” He scoffs at that, and you turn to face him, looking him in the eyes, “What do you want from me?”

“I just wanna know why you don’t spend time with me anymore,” he leans into your space, grin wide and taunting, “You get scared or something?”

“Of you?” brow quirking at him, “Please,” eye roll following your words.

He sighs at you, backing out of your space, “You’re unbearable.”

“That’s my line,” you shoot back, focusing on your laundry again.

A quick hand snatches the garment you’re holding out of your grasp, his attempt at getting your attention back on him. It works because you’re facing him fully now, “You’re childish.”

“Woah,” he looks at what he’s holding like he’s only just noticed what he had grabbed, “These are cute.”

If the ground could swallow you whole, you wish it would happen now because why is your unwanted roommate holding a pair of your panties while smiling at you like the cat that got the canary.

“Toji,” you warn.

He hums back at you, almost indulgent, “Yes, doll?”

“Give them back.”

Dangling your underwear in between the two of you by a single digit, he considers, “I don’t know… I think I like these; I might keep them.”

The expression on your face incredulous, “And what? Wear them?”

“I’m sure I’ll find some use for them,” suggestion written all over his face in a way you wish you weren’t attracted to.

“Toji.” A second warning.

Again, his reply is the same, “Yes, doll?”

“They’re dirty.”

“Really?” He looks to them, “Want me to check?” Hand bringing them close to his face before you snatch them away.

“Don’t be gross!” You chastise him, chucking the panties into the machine with more force than necessary.

Your skin feels hot from embarrassment, how can he be so shameless? It’s uncomfortably quiet in the laundry room as you silently stew while looking down into the washer.

Toji sounds tentative when he speaks, “Are you mad?”

He’s met with an immediate glare at his stupid question, “Well I’m not happy!” Brows pinched and feeling like your head is about to explode when you struggle to get out, “How– how can you be so… so? So shameless.”

“Being dead doesn’t hurt,” he says casually.

You can’t tell if that’s an attempt at humour or if he’s being serious but if you had to guess you’d say it’s a little of both, “I can’t believe I’ve been crushing on you, you’re so embarrassing. What does that say about me? attracted to a shameless ghost who does nothing but embarrass me.”

Your foot has started tapping against the floor with your frustrations, not even registering the blunder you made about outing your crush on him… you know, the thing you’ve been actively avoiding him over just to keep secret.

It’s not until he’s leaning into your space and asking, “You been crushing on me, doll?” That you realise the mistake you’d made.

“What?” You heard him perfectly fine. Only feigning ignorance in an attempt to think of a convincing cover.

There’s pride oozing from him, his grin growing by the second, “You just said–”

“–No, I didn’t,” there is no way to save this and so you fall back on blatantly lying.

He’s revelling in how flustered you are and it’s making it worse, “No, no, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve been crushing on me.”

Your hands move to either side your head, covering your ears as you try to block out what he’s saying, “I can’t hear you; I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Despite your actions, you can hear him perfectly. So, you hear him crystal clear when he borderline taunts, “You have a crush on the ghost haunting your house!”

You don’t say anything back, only staring at him as you wear all your embarrassment on your face.

His smile lessens, replaced by a kinder one, “Is that why you been avoiding me?”

Slowly turning to face him, you drop your hands and give a small nod, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable right now. The fact his immediate reaction was to be amused and prideful has you confused on just what he’s thinking about, does he only find your feelings funny? Does he not take them seriously? Or maybe you’d been overthinking it… it is just a crush after all.

You feel a little guilty over how your feelings have been making you act. He’s literally stuck with you and you’re making it awkward all because you find him attractive, “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable… but it’s just a crush, I’ll get over it.”

You meant to offer him some kind of relief in saying that, but it doesn’t seem to give him any. A low hum coming from him as he moves in closer. Bending at the waist so he can eye you carefully, getting so close that you avoid his gaze, face hot at his proximity.

“What are you–”

“–You’d just get over me?” He asks. You can’t decipher his intent.

Not able to help the way you fumble over yourself when answering honestly, “I– well… I mean… eventually? Right?”

Almost doubtful when he counters, “And you think I’m just gonna let that happen?”

The way in which he says it takes you aback, eyes meeting his when you utter a succinct, “Stop.”

A singular brow raises at you, “Stop what?”

“Stop flirting with me,” it’s unfair and only serving to confuse you further.

“Why?”

Expression somewhere between a pout and scowl when you grumble, “You are the most exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure of trying to have a conversation with.”

“And yet you have a crush on me,” his eyebrows raise.

Swapping back to denial is your solution, “I just changed my mind; I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”

Still, he flirts, “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“Nope,” you pop the word at him, “All my feelings vanished just like that.”

“That’s a damn shame,” he’s smirking as he looks at your lips before flicking back to your eyes. One of his hands reach to cradle the side of your face, mouth hovering overs yours, so close to kissing you but ultimately not moving any more than that.

Your eyes had closed at the way he leaned in but when you don’t feel his lips on yours you open them to see the way he’s looking down his nose at you, smug smile ever present on his stupid face.

“You’re being cruel,” and he his, he knows it too, it’s entirely purposeful on his behalf and you can only take so much.

His thumb brushes your lower lip gently, still so unbearably close when he asks, “How so?”

“Let me go.” You huff at him, “You’re so distracting, go haunt a different part of the house. I need to finish my laundry.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” His words are accompanied by an eyeroll.

“Why are you so–”

You’re cut off abruptly by his lips colliding with yours, clearly uninterested in further back and forth. Especially since it seems like you’re not willing to give up and just tell him you want him to kiss you. When you’re not immediately pulling away, he’s moving his body closer to yours, other hand large on your back as he pulls you towards him.

Lips so much more careful than you would’ve expected of him. Searching and relentless but not rough, not yet anyways. Your hands move to his shoulders and grip him, giving into him completely, his kiss taking your breath away.

The hand on the side of your face is manoeuvring you how he likes, wanting to deepen the kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, it sends shivers down your spine, involuntary moan leaving you.

You aren’t really registering it but he’s walking you back, sandwiching you between the washing machine and his large body. Hand previously on the small of your back now on your hip, pulling at your flesh. Then slipping it under your shirt and resting against your skin, his touch eliciting goose bumps.

He tilts your head back and trails his lips down your neck, nipping at you as he goes. Your pants filling the room, small and quiet moans mixed in with your breaths. You can hardly think, too focused on how it feels to have him touching you.

Suddenly gasping a moan when he bites at your neck a little harder than you were expecting, your thighs rubbing together at it. His movements grow more frenzied, lips back on yours in full force, tongue in your mouth depriving you of your air.

So much so that you have to push him back by his shoulders, chest moving rapidly as you catch your breath. Eyes wet and glassy when you look up at him, brows pulled up as you struggle to focus in on his face.

“Sorry, I got a bit carried away,” he’s staring at you, awestruck by the stupid look on your face.

You ignore his apology, “Kiss me again? Please?”

“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The answer is he couldn’t, not when your eyes are all glassy from his lips.

The kiss is messy and despite the coolness of him, hot. Your arms are wrapped around his neck now, pulling him down into you. Both his hands on your hips, playing with the waistband of your pants, fingers tickling against your skin.

Parting to speak against your ear, “You gonna let me touch you, doll?”

Nodding at him, “Yeah…”

He hums at you thoughtfully, “You crushing on me again or am I imagining the hearts in your eyes right now?”

“You ruin everything– ah–” words interrupted by his hand slipping into the front of your pants and underwear.

His fingers slip through your folds, tracing your clit softly,  “Am I still ruining everything?”

“Oh!– noo, no you’re not,” your words are breathless as you shake your head, not wanting him to stop.

“You know…” his grin is sly as he speaks to you lowly, “You’re awfully wet for someone you don’t have a crush on.”

Wanting him to stop talking, you turn your head and kiss him. Your tongue sliding into his mouth, the kiss desperate and chaotic. Lips connected by a string of saliva when you pull back.

Your words are saturated in sarcasm but completely true, “I have a big fat crush on you, Toji, are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he smiles brightly, finger probing at your entrance, “In fact, I might just reward you.” As he finishes his sentence, his digit is pushing into you, biting his lip at how you gasp against him. “You know, you’re really cute like this, all breathless and struggling to take a finger.”

“Such a mean ghost,” you sulk.

“You’re meaner, avoiding me all because of a stupid crush,” his finger crooks inside you, almost knocking you over, “If you’d just told me about it we could’ve had fun so much sooner, you been depriving me of this sweet cunt.”

Your legs are feeling shaky under you, “How was I supposed to– hah– know?”

“I flirt with you relentlessly and follow you around all day like a damn puppy and you think I don’t wanna fuck you?” He chuckles humourlessly, “Shit, doll, if you needed it to be more obvious all you had to do was tell me.” A second finger joins his first, scissoring them to open you up, “I’d drop to my knees just to please you.”

His words make you dizzy, the idea of him on his knees and lapping at your pussy damn near capable of killing you. Your stomach flutters with butterflies at how willing he is to make you feel good.

He can feel the way your cunt clenches down on his fingers, his chest squeezing with how reactive you are to him, “Oh? You liked that, doll? Like the idea of me licking your pussy?”

“I need you, please,” your lip quivers, shudders running through your body at how his thumb rubs over your clit.

A single peck is pressed to your wobbly lower lip, “You already got me.”

“Noo– oh God–” You’re trying so hard to get your words out but he’s touching you so insistently, his fingers reaching all the perfect spots so effortlessly you might go blind. Your head rolls back as you gasp out, nails clawing down the front of his chest.

Slurred words and jumbled moans leaving you as his hand speeds up. It’s an active effort to get out, “Wan– want your– ah! dick, please.”

He laughs like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, “Only ever need to ask.” His hand is drawing back from your core, a pathetic whimper leaving you at the loss. “Turn around for me, doll.”

You do as he says, turning around to face the washing machine, one of his hands reaching forward to shut the lid. His body moves in close behind you, his front pressing into your back, firm erection against your ass.

His lips brush against your ear, “Hold on and bend over.”

“You’re so demanding,” you mutter as you do what he says.

He counters, “And you’re so obeying.” You can feel the air of his smugness radiating from behind you.

Both his hands tug at your pants, slowly pulling them down your body until they drop onto the floor. You can’t help but feel exposed and impatient, your panties stuck to your core with the arousal that drips from you. Toji’s finger creeps into the gusset, pulling them back before letting go, teasing you for his own enjoyment.

Straightening up, you try to turn to face him and tell him off for being a massive tease but he’s too close to you. An arm is wrapping around your front as his head tucks into your neck, “You going somewhere?”

“I thought since you seem to be indecisive I’d leave while you think about your next move,” you bite back.

He’s pushing your front back down, “You always this impatient?”

“You always this big a tease?” Your hands reach out to hold the machine again.

“Always got something to say don’t you?”

“Toji, I’m so wet and needy and if you don’t do something soon I’m going to finish without you and I’ll make you watch.”

Quietly and under his breath, he utters, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Before you get a chance to spin around and question him on that further, he’s pulled his pants down and your panties to the side. His cock head stretching you open, your fist slams down into the washer as you struggle to accommodate his size. Stuttered gasps and whines leaving you as he presses forward inch by inch. One of your hands has to reach back and rest on his pelvis, stopping him, needing a moment to catch your breath and get used to taking his size.

You pant out to him, “Wh– what did you mean?”

“Fffuck–” he’s struggling to maintain focus when you’re gripping him that tightly, “What?”

You’re trying to control your breathing as you ask again, “What did you mean by ‘wouldn’t be the first time’?”

“Doll, I’ve been in this house since long before you moved in,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing against your ear, “I’ve seen you fucking yourself with your toys.”

Involuntary whimper leaving you, your hips rutting back into him, “You’re such a perv.”

“Oh yeah, the fuckin biggest,” he groans at how your pussy flutters around him, “Loved when you would come home high and dry from a date, your cunt drenching your dildo with just how needy you were, squirming in your bed while fucking yourself.”

You hate how turned on you are at the thought of him watching you masturbate, “Move, please.” Hand moving away, giving him room.

He’s drawing back only to fuck his hips forwards, “Hnnn– and now I get to see how you coat my cock, such a messy fucking thing.”

Toji’s hips falter at how your cunt sucks him in, so greedy and sopping wet that it’s making his head spin. He can’t tell if it’s been too long or if you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever fucked but it’s probably somewhere in between and he can’t be bothered to think too hard about it right now.

“Is it– hah– is it nearly in?” You whine back at him, not sure how much more of him you can fit.

He’s steadily rocking his cock into you, filling you more each time he thrusts forward, “Not– not quite.”

Maybe you should let him take the lead with this but you’re impatient and horny and he’s taking too long and you just want him so deep inside you that you feel him in your guts. So, in your fuzzy brain, you decide it’s a good idea to fuck your hips back as he moves forward. He bottoms out, his pelvis slapping into your ass but you’re left breathless, squirming as you grapple with how full of him you are.

“Oh my God– what– why are you so– hng– why are you big?” Tears spring to the corners of your eyes, feeling so completely overwhelmed. Pussy twitching around him as your legs shake.

He can’t believe you’d done that, letting out a long-drawn-out groan like he’d been gut punched, “Fuck– greedy fucking thing, you couldn’t– hnn– couldn’t wait for it? Was trying to take it easy on you and your tight little hole.”

His cock is jerking violently inside you, so unbelievably turned on. Your cunt snug around his dick nearly has him believing this is his heaven and you’re his own personal angel. He’d take it for truth if the sight of your hole stretched around him weren’t so sinful, your panties tugged to the side and soaked.

His voice is strained when he checks in, “You good, doll?”

“Mhm, yeah I– mmph– I’m good,” you’re giving him the go ahead, punctuating your words with your hips wiggling back into him. It almost knocks him out, seeing the way your ass jiggles.

His hands are gripping your hips tight, holding you still as he draws back. His first thrust ruthless, forcing you forward, brain taking a second to realise that the loud moan reverberating in the room was you.

“You’re gonna be the second death of me,” he says through stifled grunts.

You are completely lacking in any kind of retort to throw back at him, only able to dumbly hum at him so he knows you heard him. The way he’s driving his dick into you has you twitching and scratching at the lid of the washer, almost embarrassed by how drunk on his cock you are.

There are so many thoughts in your head and also none at all, “Toji, it feels so– oh!– feels so good– I can’t–”

“You’re doing so good, taking it all so well,” he sounds wrecked, words breaking off at the end. “Pussy so fucking– ffuck– so creamy– ohhh–”

Toji’s eyes stay locked on how you take him, chest fluttering at how he’s fucked you open. Cock drenched in your slick, dripping down your legs. So relentless in his pursuit that he just knows your ass is gonna hurt tomorrow from the consistent smack! smack! Of his pelvis slapping into you. Not even a question of if his finger marks will be imprinted onto your hips, the memory of him fucking you so well something he’s not going to let you forget.

He finally has you full and squirming under him, he’s not going to let it be a forgettable experience. Determined to fuck you so good that you’re begging him to do it all over again. He already wasn’t going to let you go but especially not now, not when having you feels this fucking divine. The borderline obsession he feels for you growing by the second, fuelled by how pliant you are for him.

All his thoughts are coming a million miles a second, all of them about you and how bad he’s wanted you, how ecstatic he is that he’s finally balls deep inside you. “You’re so perfect, feel so– hnng– feel so perfect–”

“Careful Toji– hah– I might think you like me,” you joke at him.

The smirk he’s wearing can be felt even though you can’t see him, his laugh short, “Oh I fucking looove you, pretty thing. You’re never getting rid of me.”

You don’t know if that confession is one you can take seriously or if he’s just severely pussy drunk but its effect on you doesn’t change, your cunt clamping down around him as your chest stutters. The tears you had been holding back finally slipping down your cheeks, so overwhelmed you’re seeing stars, hell, you might be hearing things.

His hand reaches to your face and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling you back to him, your back arching lewdly for him. His tongue licking at the tears tracking down your face, “Crying over my dick, doll?” His words are laced with a sickening kind of affection for you, “So sweet for me.”

His other hand grabs at the bend of your knee, pulling it up. Despite your shaky hands still resting on the washer, all your weight is basically being supported by him. Your head falls back onto his chest  He uses the access to kiss you messily, tongue licking at yours, swallowing down the moans you let out.

Still, his hips drill into you, never letting up for even a second. Obscene squelching sounds of him fucking your gooey cunt filling the room, followed by the sharp slaps of skin hitting skin. Your stomach is pulling taut, getting so fucking close to finishing, vision blurred by all the tears in your waterline.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs into your skin, encouraging you, “Let it– fuck!– let it happen.”

“Feels– feels too– ah!– it feels different,” it feels too good, too much, “You need to­– need to stop, it doesn’t feel right.”

It sounds like he gets excited, not even a little concerned, “You’re doing so good, doll.”

“It’s not right–”

“–It’s fine,” he tries to offer comfort, “Trust me.”

Your legs shake violently, the build-up of your orgasm foreign and like it might have you passing out. As different as it feels, you trust him and let it happen, let yourself get fucked over the edge and into bliss. Your orgasm rips through you, moans tumbling freely and loudly, your body shaking from the force of it. Temporarily it feels like you lose sight, unseeing but feeling your cold tears against your hot cheeks.

Cunt clenching down, hard, on his dick, coating him completely in your cum. Body twitching with the shocks of your orgasm, head full and spinning. With the amount of blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Only after a few moments have passed are you able to begin barley making out what he’s saying.

“Fffuck– that’s it, look at that,” Toji can’t hide the absolute pleasure in his voice even if he tried to, completely ecstatic at the sight before him.

You’re breathless and limp, letting him hold your lower half up, head lolling against his chest. Able to feel the vibrations of his moans against you, in a way it’s soothing to you.

“Doll, look down,” he prompts, hand guiding you down.

You whine in protest but look down anyways, an absolute mess everywhere. Lower halves drenched after your orgasm. “Oh my–” when he lets go of your cheeks, your head flops back onto his chest, head spinning.

“Hah– squirted everywhere,” he smiles into your skin, “All for me– hnn–”

He’s in love with the fact he’s managed to get you to cum like that without even really trying, his ego getting a boost he surely didn’t need. His own orgasm so close it bites at his skin, his hand gripping your thigh tight, pulling at your flesh. Free hand sliding under your shirt and grabbing at your breast, shamelessly groping you.

Shudders wracking his body as he cums suddenly, almost taken off guard by how quickly it happens. Cock twitching as he dumps his seed deep inside you, taking a moment to breathe before pulling back slowly, watching as his dick leaves you covered in both your orgasms.

Carefully, he places your leg back down on the ground, leaving you to stand on your own only for your legs to wobble and almost give out under you. If Toji hadn’t been right behind you, you would’ve fallen to the floor. He pulls your panties back into place before hoisting you up onto the washing machine, letting you sit while he puts his dick back into his pants.

You watch him move, all dazed and fucked out, pleasantly placated. His eyes meeting yours when he’s fully clothed, a big smile spreading across his face when he sees the mess he’s made of you.

Leaning in towards you, he asks, “Still got that big fat crush on me?”

“Uhm… I don’t know…” you pretend to think about it, like you don’t know if you like him or not.

He gives you a quick and soft kiss, “How about now?”

“I think… maybe,” you smile lazily at him.

His brow raises, “Maybe?”

“Yeah… definitely maybe still have a big fat crush on you,” you nod once, sure.

He’s grinning when he sighs, “You’re unbearable.”

“That’s my line,” you retort.

You’re both playing dumb but you both know you got it bad for each other and Toji is not going to let you get away with avoiding him again. Not after he’s gotten a taste of you.

𝐀/𝐍: this took longer than what i said it would and i'm sorry for that but i also was only planning for this to be a drabble... i have issues ToT anyways !! i hope you enjoyed !! happy almost halloween !!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances

[loves4ge]

celebrity!au cw: swearing, gojo is disgustingly in love

gojo satoru is thoroughly and utterly fucked. there are only ten minutes left until he has to go live for an interview—promotional material for his new movie. the only problem is you, his sweet costar; you had him wrapped around your finger.

despite being each other's on-screen love interests, your schedules hadn't matched until now to do an interview together. and gojo fucking satoru, one of the biggest celebrities to ever set foot in the hall of fame, is nervous. because he knows when gets out there, you'll be waiting for him. you've always been early to places (not really, he's just late).

it's not just the thought of you that has his stomach twisting in knots, it's his obsessive—and frankly, scary—fangirls who hang onto his every look, every glance, every word. even if no one finds out about his itsy bitsy crush, they will. and they will ruin you.

and he can't do that to you! this is your big break after slaving away in minor roles with a no-name cast. you're in the spotlight too much after only have seen the light being shone on other people, there's already too much pressure on you. the sudden onslaught of fans can be overwhelming, but the critics? they're so much harsher than what you expected.

"gojo, get out." it's his manager. deep breaths, he advises himself as he lifts out of the chair and to the set. where you are. god.

"so, i hear the set can get pretty crazy?" the interviewer smiles as he says it. he has that mall santa vibe; a little bit jolly and just slightly discomfort inducing.

your laugh slips out and gojo swears he almost died there. but he makes a conscious effort to not look at your lips. he sneaks a glance anyway.

"that's right! you should see the mess this man makes," you say, nodding your head towards the white-blond man. he should've worn his sunglasses, at least that way he could've stared at you in peace.

"hey! i'm not at fault here," gojo defends himself, guffawed. he crosses his arms as if he was trying to protect his chastity. or defend his honor, i suppose.

"mm, that's what they all say." your playful tone has him weak in the knees and he's thanking the gods that he's sitting down otherwise he would've folded right then and there.

"so geto suguru was here earlier and he mentioned that there was some steam in the movie, eh?"

stay professional, stay professional, stay professional.

"oh yeah. there are a couple of scenes for sure. it wouldn't have turned out as well as they did if it wasn't for satoru. i've never done an intimate scene before and he was just so comforting and really, a strong source of support for me."

fuck.

gojo breaks into a grin, his hand platonically (he hopes) pats your shoulder.

"it actually wouldn't have gone so well if it wasn't for our earth shattering chemistry. and our intimacy coordinator. yep, you heard it here first guys. bridgerton isn't the only show that gets one!" he's not entirely sure if the comedic route was the one to take after your heartfelt confession but he can't seem to respond as sincerely as he wants on television.

your giggle makes up for it though. and the light slap against his thigh. god. he has to resist the urge to ask you to do it again.

---

10 MINUTE COMPILATION OF GOJO BEING DOWN BAD FOR HIS COSTAR (ft. geto)

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Safest Place

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader

Synopsis: John has to tell you (4) about monsters, and you don’t take it well

Warnings: none, it’s short and sweet

“And that’s what me and Sammy and Dean do. And that’s why we move around all the time, and why you can’t go to work with me, and…” John swallowed. “Kiddo that’s why you don’t have a mom. Demons took her.”

Dean couldn’t watch. He didn’t even want to listen. He’d wanted to keep you from the truth for so much longer, but you were so much more nosy than Sam had been. You went through John’s journal and asked about all the monster pictures you saw in it, you asked John countless questions about the guns and the newspaper clippings and…and everything. But it was more than that—you were also clingy. Clingy to the point where you’d sneak out and try to follow either John or your brothers when they went out to hunt monsters. After a close call with a vampire where you snuck into the Impala then almost got yourself killed, John decided that enough was enough. You wouldn’t last long in this life unless you had a healthy fear of the supernatural. So that’s what John had to give you.

“What if demons take you?” Your quiet whimper finally had Dean looking up. You were shaking, blinking up at your dad as if waiting for him to say that it was all a joke and monsters weren’t real.

“The demons aren’t gonna take me,” John promised. “That’s why we hunt. So they can’t take anybody else.”

You didn’t respond, so John reached down and picked you up, laying you down on his bed and tucking you in.

“Get some sleep, kiddo.”

…

John fell asleep quickly, but Dean could hear you tossing and turning even as he struggled to settle down himself. He was always the last to fall asleep, and having to share a bed with Sam since there was no pullout couch wasn’t helping.

Because of his insomnia, Dean was the first to hear your feet padding on the motel carpet as you slipped off John’s bed and tiptoed your way over to Dean’s.

“De?” Dean could tell you were crying from just the one syllable. “De, I need help.”

Dean rolled over to see you standing at the edge of his bed, your arms stretched out for him. Dean pulled you up onto the bed without comment, and once his arms were around you you refused to let him go.

“I don’t want the demons to get me, De,” you sniffled.

“Hey—“ Dean tightened his arms around you. “—I’m not gonna let any demons get you, ok?”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Sam whispered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Demons are scary, Sammy,” you whimpered.

“Oh honey…” Sam disentangled you from Dean’s arms and cradled you in his lap.

“How do I fight demons?” You rubbed at your eyes.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that,” Dean said. “I don’t ever want you thinking about it. Me and Sammy and Dad are gonna get those demons, ok? Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you.”

“Yeah, and you wanna know what the safest place is?” Sam asked. You nodded firmly. “It’s right about…” Sam laid back down, and Dean followed his lead. “Here.” Sam positioned you in between himself and Dean, tucking you under the covers and keeping one arm over you. You latched onto his arm, your tiny hands wrapping around his fingers.

“Nobody can hurt you here,” Dean promised. “Me and Sammy and Dad won’t let them.”

You reached your hand out for Dean, and he responded by putting his arm over Sam’s, so you had both of your brother’s arms protecting you.

You were asleep in minutes.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[masochistkatsuki]

Team Player - How to Fuck Mina 101

Pt One ← Pt Two → Masterlist

After taking on Mina's challenge of fucking everyone in your friend group, (and getting caugh up with her) you strategically go for the easiest ones first once finally in the club.

Eijirou Kirishima is flustered easily, especially under the bright bar lights. Too sweet for his own good, in an attempt to find the plot again, you show him how Mina likes it.

Although an hour late, the entire group was together, dressed head to toe in the cutest outfits they'd been waiting to wear. Well, mainly the girls, the guys were just worrying about making sure Katsuki didn't start a fight with anyone.

The moment of truth.. After you gave the group a pep talk, giving them a rundown of all the tips and tricks to lie better. It was kinda scary. You walked up without further hesitation, oddly enough, all the training you'd done was useful for things like sneaking into clubs underage.

Thanks to your confidence, the others' slight uneasiness didn't seem to go noticed. You were in. "Holy shit ! You're scary, (Nickname)”

"Oh shut up" You pushed Kaminaris head out of your space, going right to the bar with Jirou. "I got us in, now enjoy it. Maybe pay me back" You smirked while looking over the strongest and most expensive options containing vodka.

"Well.." Denki looked around, praying the others would end what he started. He was the unemployed friend, surely you guys wouldn't make him pay again..?

"Yeah! Drinks on Denki !" Mina cheered, joining you and Jirou at the barstools. You all held back laughter, the girls turning red. It's been an inside joke to see how long you could make Kaminari pay before totally went broke. Cruel ? Yea. But you still paid your fair share.

Third Year work studies were a different type of exhausting, especially if you qualified to work a job on off days. So it's been a minute since everyone got to catch up, and it was definitely needed.

You listened carefully, cat-like in your analysis. Your plan was to knock Kirishima out of the way, so by the time you were done fucking everyone else, they'd completely ease into their relationship.

You looked back at Mina one last time, asking for permission to actually go at her man. Of course, all you got was a mischievous grin and thumbs up. Fine.

‘This one is for Mina and me in the first year..’

Throughout the night, you got closer and closer to Eijirou. He wasn't drinking tonight. Usually he would, whilst Bakugou drove. But for mysterious reasons, Katsuki decided he was drinking tonight.

It wasn't bad, though. You could make advances on him without any intoxication messing with his head. You drank a bit at first, letting a small buzz take you in. It wasn't nearly where you wanted to be, but now that you knew you could get into places, you just held hope for next time.

You used the impression of you being more intoxicated to test the waters with Eijirou. 'Sorry, Ei! I know this is kinda crazy..’

It was you two alone, against one of the back walls. "Dancing isn't as fun when you're sober" He laughed awkwardly. Usually you'd disagree, finding fun in anything. But even you weren't tipsy enough to look at the wave of sweaty bodies and think joining in was a good idea.

"Yea." You rubbed at your neck. "Well, we don't have to just sit and watch, y'know Kacchan will beat anyone who messes with our girls."

He sighed. "Yea. fuck hope Sero and Kaminari are taking care of him." He leaned more comfortably against the wall.

Here's your chance. "Don't worry, Ei. You know they'll be fine." You linked your arm in his, intertwining your fingers with his. "We don't have to stay here." 'Hes inexperienced, and pent up.’ You were right. He got going real easy.

He seemed shocked, but didnt pull away. Eijirou Kirishima leaned into your touch a bit, his ironically brick colored eyes looking down into yours.. "But Mina."

You sighed, matching his energy tenfold. Your body weight was almost completely against his. To him, it probably felt like fluffy pillow hugging him, but that wasn't the point right now. "Trust me, this is because of, and for, Mina.”

You felt his arm harden slightly, one of the biggest giveaways he was using his quirk to keep it in his pants. You're getting there. He was curious, and clearly not against it. Just in his classic manly way, he wanted to make sure no girls were getting hurt.

But before he could question further-- "Hey guys." Katsuki broke them out of their small personal world sternly. 'Fuck.. He's totally pissed.!" He looked in-between the two, clearly in a mushy position. "Our tables ready."

You probably shouldn't have been surprised. Bakugou never commented or cared for whatever romantic or sexual fling was happening, friend group or not. Still, the fact the pairing didn't surprise him at all was odd.

You thought that, until : While walking to your table, you saw Katsuki give Kirishima a small nod. Oh. This was definitely going to be interrogated out of Kirishima later.

Bright flashing lights, radio station hits with bass that shake the floor, cheap perfume and alcohol mixing together as one smell, the group of seven "22" year olds were appreciating it all.

It should be the best night of their third year! They finally convinced Momo to make them fake IDs, (Thank you Jirou) but even so, there was an unmistakable tension.

Mina and you were always up to something, but this time the vague references and overall suspicious demeanor was setting everyone off more than usual. There was definitely something going on with you two.

This was only solidified when you actually got a booth and sat down. You'd been on about an half hour wait-list, pre gaming at the bar. In that time, you and Mina had already set the tone.

How things usually went when the guys and girls got drunk together, was the go-to pairings :

Kirishima and Mina (Obviously)

Sero and Jirou bullying Kaminari

You and Katsuki

The pairs of two usually had some sort of tension, and it was an obvious sign of intimate stuff. It was an ongoing thing to "cock block" the others who were talking, even if they were talking normally. Its funniest when you tell Katsuki you cockblocked him and lzuku. You just need to run fast enough.

Now at the booth, it was time to finally dial up the heat. You were closest to the wall, Kirishima on your right. Next to him was Jirou. On the other side, you had Mina across from you, and going to your right, was Katsuki, Denki, and Sero.

Jirou was observant, but she wasn't going to freak out over any under the table flirting. She’d definitely just ignore it. The boys who are more.. Never let the group chat forget this happened, thankfully on the other side observing Katsuki and Mina.

A few minutes in, you threw your leg over Eijirous, linking them together. He looked at you, eyes wide. Like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. It was totally wrong, but you thought the dazed look in his eyes was priceless.

He looked away after noticing the look in your eyes, opting to use his larger hand to pull your thigh further up his. Kirishima, despite being awkward and clumsy, was really fucking hot sometimes. Throughout the night, he kept that hand on your thigh.

Even when he drove everyone back to Seros, you calling shotgun next to him. His arm resting on your seat while looking out to back up, his eyes on yours in the mirror, and fuck how he sqoze your thigh harder during turns. You were definitely ready to start.

"Kirishima.." You sighed. You were getting nowhere. The issue was, you totally had a preference, and it was obvious. It was hard for people, especially men who were more sexually weak to break against the dynamic you'd set. "Two bottoms don't make a top, Mina loves herself a bitch boy every now and then but you'll need to take initiative." You huffed. It was almost annoying how perfect he was being.

He whimpered against your lips, his lower body lightly humping against Seros spare mattress. "S.sorry." He apologized, but most importantly, listened. He suddenly slipped two fingers in, and lapped his tongue around your clit.

"Fuck, Eijirou." You gripped his hair, pulling him in closer. "That's good. Mina likes when you start around the clit and focus in as she gets closer.!"

He hummed, seeming genuinely in awe. He was already totally whipped for pussy. "Like this ?" He took a break in, and flicked his tongue in a precise circle. When you gasped, he took the second to lightly pace his fingers in and out.

Your cheeks lifted up in a big grin. "You're doing amazing, Eijirou ! Similar to the clit, Mina enjoys when her g spot is just barely touched until the last moment. Make it a waiting game as long as possible."

Despite keeping your mind focused on the bigger picture, your body was getting heavier and hotter.

Midriff down, it felt as if a hot, damn towel was placed over your body.

Eijirou kept his fingers going, getting faster and faster every time he went in and out. His tongue kept getting closer and closer to where it was going to feel unbearably the best. "I think I understand.. now.. wanna make you come how you like it.." His head lifted up, unintentionally edging you. Oh, sweet Kiri. You definitely understand. You didn't have the heart to tell him, though.

You wondered about not what would only make you feel best, but what would be the hottest for a virgin and surprise for Mina. Though, your best idea did happen to be one of your favorites. "Kirishima, you're strong, right?”

His eyes widened, and a stark innocence shined. "Super strong ! I can do anything !!" You smiled and patted at his hair. He was being so good, how could you not?

"You're perfect, Eijirou." You leaned in, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. "I think I have everything planned out now, you just need to tell me if it's too much."

So that's how you ended up here. In the process of getting your best friend to fuck your other best friend, you had your legs spread out, hips sat heavy on Eijirou's mouth. You weren't sure if this was too much to start with at first, but it seemed to do the trick.

This definitely got Kirishima to take initiative, with the way his hands gripped at your ass and kept everything spread for him. The way he rocked you against his face, making you ride his tongue. He kept thrusting it in, mimicking the way you told him to tease before directly attacking. Fuck, hes a fast learner.

Your hands were tangled in his hair again, and you felt comfortable moving yourself against his face after some convincing (begging). Heat was surging back through you, and every hump made the weight drop deeper and heavier in your lower abdomen. "Kiri.. fuck.. I think I'm gonna.."

In a move you hadn't expected, Kirishima maneuvered his mouth to suck at your clit suddenly. It wasn't too harsh, but the perfect strength to send you flying over the edge. A hot wave seemed to rush through and out of you, squeezing your body in its path. He definitely passed this lesson..

You lifted yourself from his face, letting yourself take pleasure in watching him pant, breath shaky and higher pitched. His sweaty chest rose and fell, muscles unfairly taking up your entire focus. Freshman year you knew what was up.

"That.. was so good.. you're so good, " You leaned back on his lap, pleased when you felt how hard he was. He was fully there and past, his balls felt like they needed to come yesterday.

You looked up at him again, asking for permission. “Are you ready, Ei ?” In hindsight, it's funny how softly you asked. Because the way he fucked you when he finally got to put it in, was anything but. What can you say, though ? That's how Mina likes it.

Despite how good the stretch felt, and even though Kirishima had defied every idea you had of him, you dreaded how your legs would feel tomorrow. They were once again, spread as far as they could, perched up in the air while Kirishima’s strong form held you up while he bounced you against him.

"'Oh god.. fuck please."' his hips were snapping furiously into your soft spot, his eyes watering while he tightened his hands harder and harder around your smaller hips. Kirishima doesn't think he's ever felt this good.

"Please, my hand doesn't ever feel this good, this doesn't happen when i fuck into my pillow.. fuck please i need this." your thighs were pressed up between your body and his, your ankles and arms wrapped around his neck. he was fucking into you upright, gravity pulling your hips to naturally sit balls deep against his cock.

You smiled softly against his neck. He was so cute like this. He was fucking you like it was the end of the world, like he needed to break you in order to survive. But his eyes were so soft, voice so whimpery. Hands shaking, whining about how good you felt. “Go on, Kirishima. I already taught you how to put the condom on, so it's okay.”

His tip pushed roughly against your cervix, it was starting to feel overwhelming and you doubted you would come again after your last orgasm, but the loom on Kirishima's face when he got to cum after a night of teasing was worth it the sore legs the next week.

“Yes.. fuck.. thank you..” His hips stopped while deep in yours, and you felt the condom get noticeably warmer. His head fell into your chest, drool slightly dripping from his mouth onto your sternum.

“You did good, Kirishima. Now go man up to Mina and show her what you can do !” The previously fucked out and sleepy redhead shot up, his fist pumping through the air.

“Yea !! I'm going to show her how manly I am now !!” He rushed to pull his pants back on, but in the post dick daze you almost forgot something.

Just as he was about to exit, you stopped him. “Wait, by the way !” He looked back, expectantly. You held out a glass of water, with a lemon slice stuck into the rim. “Remember, Mina loves citrus after sex.”

a/n : sorry if this is choppy, i had trouble getting into this one so sections have been written at different times when i got random motivation . i may revamp it at some point, but i didnt want to beat around the bush

tag list : @hyunjinshairband7 @icarusthefoolish @adv3rs1ty @waterfal-ling @hon3y-13mOn05 @sugerglidder @scr4luv @hauntedcomputerobservation-blog @pinkpantheris @yogupink @cupkiki

[thedreamlessnights]

Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so

Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!

For Your Eyes Only

Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW

Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.

You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it. 

The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing. 

Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.

What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.

Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long. 

The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.

A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.

Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”

Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path. 

“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”

“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”

“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”

And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.

“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel. 

You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face. 

Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.

When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.

“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.

“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”

Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch. 

“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war. 

“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”

“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”

But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.

Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now. 

“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”

“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.

 “Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.” 

Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same. 

Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.

“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.

“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”

By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel. 

The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”

It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best. 

Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.

The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too. 

You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees. 

Nothing. You find nothing.

“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”

“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?” 

He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”

“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”

A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”

Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.” 

“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”

“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”

The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.

“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.

“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”

“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”

You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud. 

“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”

You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.

You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.

Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.

When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything. 

Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”

But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound. 

Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.

Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?

Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.

In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”

Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood. 

“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”

Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”

“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?” 

Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”

He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.

There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.

When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.

The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision. 

You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?

Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.

“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”

You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.

“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.

He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue. 

Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.

He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.

Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind. 

You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.

He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething. 

And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.

After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief. 

You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.

“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”

He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps. 

You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him. 

After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck. 

Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.

One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.

When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.

Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.

“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”

“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.

“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”

“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.

And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.

You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it. 

Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.

He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.

He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.

And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-

And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.

“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”

Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”

He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”

You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”

He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”

He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-

Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand. 

You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.

Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again. 

He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot. 

For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.

You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.

“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”

And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.

“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.

“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment. 

You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements. 

Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.

You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble. 

If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire. 

He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.

Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”

You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”

He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.

“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”

Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals. 

His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.

You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”

And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.

 You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.

You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.

“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”

And, gods, all you can do is laugh.

[birdiewritessometimes]

ellooo I love your writing smm and I was hoping I could request a Mattheo riddle or Theo Nott x hufflepuff reader (which ever you decide) I feel like you can create a cute fluffy story with either of them being so soft for the reader (or whatever direction you want to take this towards)ㅤ ᵕ̈

Magical Matchmaker

A/N: Hii! Thank you so much for reading my writing and liking it <3 I’m sorry for the wait, I actually started this one before you sent in the request and it fit perfectly together. I’m sorry you had to wait so long for it though but I hope I’m making up for it in length! I shit you not, Archie is based on my cat and he loved toe bean massage! Also I promise I don’t hate Draco he’s just a perfect character to show how the slytherin boys values people I guess. Also, also, Slytherin boys + astronomy tower = <3 Btw its always Cormac who is an annoying ass…

Archie is my first cute little oc, he might make appearances later on in other stories since i love him so much <3

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!reader

Themes/warnings: Fluff, fighting, blood, smoking, that’s all I could think of, please let me know if there’s more

Word count: 7500-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

The soft rumble of the train could be heard as you walked through the train corridor. You were holding your cat, Archimedes, in your arms. The black cat was comfortably asleep as you searched the compartments for your friends, Hannah Abbott and Megan Jones. The train had just left the station around five minutes ago, yet you can’t seem to find your friends anywhere. Archimedes awoke when you stopped at one compartment to peer inside for your friends. Inside sat a group of boys, known for starting fights, talking back to teachers and just being trouble in general, most students were wary of them. They were in your year, all in Slytherin. In your time at Hogwarts, you had managed to stay clear of their radar. That all came to change the moment Archimedes jumped out of your arms and sneaked into the loud boys’ compartment. Your blood ran cold when you saw him jump up in one of the boys’ lap. You prepared yourself to go in there to apologise but you stopped when you saw how the curly haired boy gently petted Archimedes’ head, a smile on his face.

“Oi, where did that cat come from?” One of the boys, you recognised him as Blaise Zabini, he was known as a flirt, asked. The boy who held your cat in his lap was Mattheo Riddle, he was known as the intimidating, scary boy most people feared. The other two boys were Theodore Nott, the quiet one, and Lorenzo Berkshire, the sweet one in the group. You saw how Lorenzo leaned over to pet Archimedes.

“He is so cute.” He said as he also petted your cat. You saw how Mattheo swatted his hand away a playful frown on his face.

“Hey, he came to me, back of Enzo.” You heard him mutter irritably before continuing to pet Archimedes’ head gently. The scene in front of you made you smile; it almost made you forget who you were staring at. They looked so innocent as they surveyed Archimedes. Mattheo had a soft smile on his face while Lorenzo had a mischievous one, continuously trying to pet him. Theodore was chuckling at the scene while Blaise was grinning widely. Realising the situation you gently knocked on the door before sliding it open so you could stand in the doorway. All four boys snapped their eyes towards you, tearing their eyes from your cat. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Hi, uh, I’m sorry, Archimedes, my cat sneaked in here…” You trailed off, feeling more awkward by the second as they just stared at you, Mattheo still petting your very content cat’s head.

“Y/n, right? I didn’t know you had a cat.” Theodore cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed. You let out an awkward chuckle, the whole situation made you feel out of place. Like you had intruded and, in some way, you suppose you did. But you didn’t want to lose Archimedes on the train, he was a pain to find again, since he was deaf.

“Yep, since first year.” You confirmed, you could feel an amused smile make its way to your face at the awkward situation. They were looking at you like they have never seen you before, or like you were some sort of alien. Your eyes travelled to the curly haired boy who you’re your cat. He looked like he would rather die than to let you have Archimedes back.

“Y/n? You’re a Hufflepuff right?” Lorenzo asked, giving you a kind smile, probably trying to ease the weird atmosphere, which you returned.

“Yep, also since first year.” You chuckled, making him chuckle too. You saw that the rest of the group smiled at you too, except for Mattheo.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth that he really is yours?” Mattheo asked suspiciously, you let out a chuckle again at him. His eyebrow shifted upwards as he gave you a suspecting look. You nodded at your cat’s collar.

“Check his collar, his name, my name and my address are on there.” You said, now feeling amused at the situation. It seemed like Mattheo was trying to stall giving him back to you. You saw how Mattheo gently checked the tag on Archimedes’ collar, a frown on his face.

“Archimedes, y/n l/n, 71 The Green, London.” He mumbled, a sulking look on his face, this made you let out a giggle. Deciding to tune in with your kindness, that Hufflepuffs valued so much, you decided to let him cuddle Archimedes for the train ride.

“You’re welcome to cuddle him if you’d like, but do you mind if I sit then? I don’t want to lose him.” You said, but you realised your mistake as the words left your mouth. Mattheos eyebrows shot up in a questioning manner.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean that I don’t trust you with him, it’s just that he is, uh, deaf, so I don’t want to leave him on the train.” You rambled, feeling more embarrassed by the second. Mattheo’s face went back to normal, as he didn’t bother to answer you. You saw how Lorenzo and Theodore made space for you to sit next to them, to which you smiled and sat down. You saw how Mattheo lifted your cat, so they were face to face, Archimedes purring loudly.

“So, you’re deaf huh? And you have a silly name.” He muttered to your cat.

“Hey, my son doesn’t have a silly name! It’s cute.” You said defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. This made the group chuckle and Mattheo to look past Archimedes and at you, an eyebrow raised in mock questioning.

“Damn, I didn’t know that you were a MILF, y/n.” Blaise said, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah- wait- I- no, what?” You stuttered out, completely taken aback by his comment. Mattheo let your cat back down on his lap before he whacked Blaise over the back of the head with a loud ‘smack’.

“Behave.” He muttered irritably.

“Don’t mind Blaise, his mum dropped him on his head when he was a baby.” Theodore mumbled from beside Lorenzo on the stuffy train seat that you now shared. You gave him a grateful smile as a reply before letting out a short laugh at his comment.

“Where did the name Archimedes come from anyways?” Mattheo asked nonchalantly, the question made a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Oh, my favourite film when I was little was the muggle film about king Arthur, it’s called the sword in the stone. Well, Merlin’s owl was called Archimedes in the movie, and I thought it was cute.” You explained which earned you a chuckle from the group.

“So not even like from the famous muggle guy? But like from a film?” Lorenzo said, a teasing tone in his voice. The question made you let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Well, I was never into maths when I was little, just magic I guess, I failed maths every year I had to take it in muggle school.” You shrugged, not even thinking about the confession you just made.

“So, you’re muggleborn?” Theodore asked lightly, but the question was loaded, considering what some people, mostly Slytherins, thought about muggleborns. You felt slightly nervous due to the fact that you know whose son sat in front of you. Now you have never heard him utter as much as one bad word against muggleborns, but he did surround himself with pureblood wizards.

“Uh, yeah, that a problem?” You asked, suspicion in your voice at the question. Theodore must have realised his mistake because his eyes widened in panic.

“Wait, no, of course not, we don’t care, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean the question like that.” He apologised.

“Don’t worry, we’re not like Malfoy, we don’t care who your family is.” Lorenzo added, a gentle smile on his face. You looked at Blaise and Mattheo who nodded, a gentle expression on Mattheo’s face. It took you aback at first before a small smile broke out on your face.

“Good, because I think we will see a lot more of each other.” You said, brightness back in your voice. The boys gave you a look of confusion.

“Because Archimedes obviously likes you.” You said as a matter of fact, an answer to their questioning looks. They let out a chuckle and hummed in agreement. The boys then started talking about their summers on the ride back to school. They discussed what they did during summer and the excitement for the quidditch season to begin. At one point Blaise asked you to switch places, Lorenzo and Theodore was going to show him pictures from the national quidditch match that they went to during the summer. As you sat next to Mattheo you could feel his cologne hit your nose, he smelled rich with a hint of cigarettes and mint. Archimedes was asleep on his lap, but when you sat down your cat stretched out, so he was laying on his side and had one paw on your leg. With a small smile you massaged his paw. You heard Mattheo let out a chuckle making you look up at him. He was looking at your cat, amusement in his eyes.

“He is really something isn’t he?” He muttered as he stroked the sleek black fur on Archimedes side. His silver rings contrasting against the dark fur on your cat.

“He is the best.” You answered softly as your eyes shifted from his face to his warm brown eyes. You had never really realised how attractive he was before. But when he had this soft half smile on his face and that soft look in his eyes when he looked at Archimedes made you realise why half the female population at school have or at least have had a crush on him. His eyes snapped to yours as you were studying his face. A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he surveyed you.

“You’re not scared of me.” It wasn’t a question. His statement made you smile, because if someone asked you how you felt about Mattheo before this you would’ve said that he made you nervous at least. But now he didn’t. You shook your head at his question.

“Why, should I be?” You asked in a teasing voice. You saw a teasing smile, an actual full smile, make its way onto his face.

“I don’t think so, but then that wouldn’t go with the whole 'scary aura' I have going on.” He answered with a small chuckle. He did quotation marks around the two words most of the student body used to describe him. You could feel a grin break out on your face at his smile.

“So, he can smile.” You teased, what gave you the confidence you don’t know, maybe it was the relaxed atmosphere in his group of friends or was it just the fact that he smiled at you. It was a testament to the fact that he wasn’t always scary or serious.

“Shut up.” He muttered as he tried to supress his smile, but to no avail.

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’ll notice if you get to know me that I am a yapper, I yap about everything.” You beamed up at him. He let out a chuckle at that.

“Really, about everything huh?” He asked, a smirk on his face to which you let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, everything, like the fact that cats are obviously so much better than owls, and that quidditch is a weird sport and that my favourite colour is copper, that my favourite condiment is ketchup, and, oh you’re laughing at me, but I can go on all night.” You giggled as Mattheo let out a chuckle at your ramble.

“Wait, you think quidditch is weird?” He realised what you had rambled about, you nodded at his question.

“Why?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face. The two of you were so engrossed in your conversation that you stopped noticing what the others talked about, they had switched their topic to the two of you.

“What do you recon? I think he likes her.” Blaise muttered to Lorenzo who was sitting in the middle.

“She obviously likes him, look at how she is looking at him.” Lorenzo added.

“Do you think the cat knows something about this, I mean he led her to him in the first place?” Theodore asked suspiciously. At that moment Archimedes lifted his head from Mattheo’s hand, just as if he had heard him, and blinked slowly at the three boys on the seat opposite him.

“No fucking way.” Blaise said to which Lorenzo and Theodore nodded stunned.

“What’s not weird about quidditch?” You asked at the same time as the conversation between the other took place.

“What’s weird about it?” Mattheo countered.

“It’s a sport you play on broomsticks, it has no time limit, you beat balls at each other, come on Mattheo, you have to admit that that’s weird.” You gestured as you tried to get your point across.

“Oh, I think that’s perfectly normal.” He argued which made you let out a laugh.

“You’re only saying that for the arguments sake.” You said with a laugh, Mattheo let out a laugh of his own at this.

“Are we having our first argument as friends?” He asked, a teasing note in his voice.

“Hmm, I don’t know, are we friends?” You teased back. Mattheo reacted to this by placing his hand over where his heart is, in mock hurt.

“You wound me, love.” You felt a blush rise to your cheeks in record time at the nickname.

“I- uh, what?” You let out in your flustered state as your eyes shifted from his to your cat that still laid in his lap. You felt a finger poke your cheek.

“You’re cute when you blush, princess.” He said, really stressing the princess-part. You swatted his finger away, despite your flustered state.

“Oh, shut up Mattheo.” You laughed and what you didn’t see, but the three boys opposite you in the compartment noticed was the gentle smile on Mattheo’s face as he watched you laugh. It was softer than it usually was. The cold stare and frown that his face usually consisted of were replaced by a soft smile and gentle eyes. The same look he had when he saw Archimedes for the first time just hours ago. Time went by quickly on the Hogwarts express and before you knew it you found yourself on the platform moving along with the boys towards the carriages. As you walked, Archimedes in your arms once again, you tried looking for your two friends. You couldn’t see them anywhere on the platform. You felt an arm around your body as you walked, you looked to the side and found Mattheo by your side, leading you through the crowd to follow his friends.

“Come on, you can find your friends at the castle, when there isn’t that much chaos.” He muttered in your ear. You felt the blush rise to your cheeks once again, this time because of his proximity. Before you knew it you reached the carriages and you felt Mattheo’s warm hand on your back as you climbed up the small steps, Archimedes still in your arms. You felt hot, despite the cold evening air that swept around you.

“You okay y/n?” Theodore asked when he saw your face. The carriage started moving towards the castle after Mattheo had entered.

“Yeah, you look a bit red, are you cold?” Lorenzo asked, genuine concern on his face. If he only knew that you were feeling everything but cold. You dared to take a peak at Mattheo who was wearing a small smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat and directed a grateful smile at Theodore and Lorenzo before directing a glare at Mattheo, who sent you a wink in return. The rest of the ride up to the castle consisted of the boys talking loudly with each other. Playful insults and banter were thrown around along with the occasional joke which made the atmosphere lively and fun. As the carriage came to a stop before the entrance the boys all got out. When it was your turn you saw that Mattheo was standing by the entrance, ready to help you down. You sent him a grateful smile but before you could even as much as take a step down, he had grabbed you around the waist and swiftly lifted you down to the ground leaving you speechless. You could hear how the others tried to keep in their laughter as they saw your stunned face.

“I- they- they should call you the flirty one, not Blaise!” You let out when you came back to your senses, this was the thing that made the others burst out laughing, Mattheo full on grinning at you.

“What? I’m just being friendly.” Mattheo said innocently making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Oh, shut up, darling.” You said the pet name sarcastically before you slowly started to make your way into the castle, leaving the boys outside.

“See you later, love!” Mattheo shouted after you, a grin on his face, his friends still chuckling. When you entered the castle, you let Archimedes go to do some exploring, knowing that he will always be in your bed by night. You entered the great hall and saw the usual enchanted ceiling that hovered over the four house tables. The Hufflepuff one was one of the tables in the middle, next to the Slytherin table on the left and the Ravenclaw table on the right. Right next to the Ravenclaw table was the Gryffindor table. You found your friends; they were seated in the middle of the table. You ran over to them with excitement as they stood up and embraced you in a group hug. Hannah was on the Hufflepuff quidditch team as you and Megan chose to focus more on your academics. Not that Hannah wasn’t good in school, she was brilliant, she just chose to focus more on sports. The three of you sat down and caught up with each other, about how your summers were and what subjects you were excited about. After the sorting you talked, laughed and ate with your friends, completely forgetting to fill them in on your train ride here. With your bellies full you and your friends made your way down to the Hufflepuff common room and to your dorms. You were quiet with tiredness as you got ready for bed. You were out before your head even hit the pillow, Archimedes comfortably asleep on the extra pillow on your bed by your head.

The first day back went by quickly and before you knew it you were doing your homework in the great hall with Hannah and Megan as you waited for dinner. Archimedes were sitting on the bench next to you, extremely interested in the movements of your quill. You were working on an essay for defence against the dark arts, two rolls of parchment on how to identify and protect yourself from a kelpie, a water demon who looks like a horse. While you were thinking of how to write your next paragraph you looked up from your work. Your eyes searched the room, like they seemed to do automatically since you’ve been back, until they met the copper brown eyes of Mattheo. You have found yourself looking for him in every room you entered since you met him. You sat there looking at each other for a moment. You sent him a soft smile, which he replied with one of his soft looks. You felt a blush rise to your cheek as you broke your eye contact, just after you saw the slight smirk on his face. It seemed like Archimedes noticed Mattheo too, because with a sound that sounded like a pigeon he jumped off the bench and dashed over to Mattheo and his friends. You smiled when you saw how your cat head butted Mattheo’s arm, begging for attention. You saw how Mattheo smiled and lifted your cat up on the table so he could pet him easier while he talked to his friends. Archimedes looked at you for a long while before curling up in front of Mattheo.

Over the next couple of days you noticed that whenever Mattheo was close by Archimedes would run to him, begging for attention. All while staring at you. You assumed it was because he really liked the boy, but you couldn’t lie, it hurt a little that the cat you nursed since he was a kitten chose a boy he had just met over you. It was Friday night, after dinner, you were relaxing in your dorm when your cat tried to get you to follow him, so you did. Archimedes was walking hurriedly along the corridors of the castle. He was leading you up multiple stairs, through passageways and along corridors. Soon enough you found yourself at the foot of the stairs that led up to the astronomy tower. You looked suspiciously at your cat who had started to climb the stairs.

“Archie, are you sure about this? It feels like you’re trying to trick me.” You muttered but started to walk up the stairs anyway. You followed your cat up the stairs in silence but when you neared the top Archimedes started running up the stairs.

“Archie, wait!” You shouted, as if he could hear you. When you reached the top of the stairs you stopped. There was Mattheo standing by the rail, curls windswept, looking cozy in a sweater and your cat was stroking his body along his legs. Mattheo was smoking a cigarette as he looked at your cat stunned, before shifting his eyes to you.

“How did he know I was here?” He asked you, confusion in his voice. You looked at him bewildered.

“I have no idea; he dragged me out of my dorm for this.” You said, confusion in your voice too. Mattheo beckoned you to come closer and your body moved before you could think.

“Could you hold this for me?” He asked as he stuck his cigarette out for you to hold. You took it awkwardly and held it between your index and thumb as Mattheo removed his sweatshirt. You saw how he folded up the material and placed it by the castle wall. In an instant Archimedes was lying on it, looking extremely content. You felt a soft smile form on your face when you watched how the boy cared for your cat.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You said softly as you stared at the boy in front of you. He let out a chuckle as he took his cigarette back.

“I take it that you don’t know that your cat seems to be obsessed with my sweaters, I’ve found him in my sweatshirt drawer like three times this week.” He said with a chuckle. You let out a startled laugh

“What? No, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry Mattheo, I don’t know what has gotten into him.” You said apologetically. Mattheo waved your apology away.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m quite fond of him.” He admitted.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed…” You muttered, reminded of the fact that your cat seemed to have a new favourite person. Mattheo raised an eyebrow as he took a drag of his cigarette, a silent question in the air.

“It’s just, he seems to be obsessed with you, and it hurts because I was the one who fed him with a bottle when he was a kitten.” You let out with a pout. Mattheo let out a laugh before throwing his arm over your shoulders, dragging you into him. You didn’t register what was happening as he squeezed you, sort of like a half hug, but with your face in his chest. His warmth surrounded you along with the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke from the cigarette.

“I’m sure he loves you the most, you’re still his mum you know.” Mattheo said softly, his arm still around your shoulders, holding you close. You looked up at him with big eyes, he had a small smirk on his handsome face as he took another drag of the cigarette. Your eyes travelled down to his hand and then down his exposed arm. That’s when you noticed the goosebumps on his skin and your eyes snapped back to his.

“Is the reason why you’re holding me like this because you’re cold?” You asked suspiciously. Mattheo let out a startled chuckle.

“What, no? You looked cold, so I thought you would like a hug.” He said, his voice slightly higher than his usual smooth voice.

“Liar!” You said, a laugh escaping you as you pointed an accusing finger at him. He put out his cigarette, tossing the butt over the railing before letting both of his hands find your waist inside the zip up hoodie you were wearing while letting out a chuckle.

“I’m not! Now you seemed to enjoy this last time.” He said, his voice smooth as he looked straight in your eyes. He was obviously hinting at when he ‘helped’ you down from the carriage, you were determined to not fold this time.

“Don’t try to deflect this to me, Mattheo.” You said, a grin on your face, you saw how a smile appeared on his face too. Your hands found their place on his chest as the two of you stood there, smiling at each other. If you thought about it, it was kind of weird, you had only known each other for a week, but then again you have been classmates since first year so maybe it wasn’t that weird that you now stood here, in his embrace, staring up in his beautiful copper-like eyes.

“You know, Theo said something that sounded something along the ramblings of a mad man the other day when we found Archimedes in my room.” He said lowly, careful not to ruin the moment.

“What did he say?” You breathed out.

“He said that your cat was trying to get us together.” He mumbled, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips briefly. Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment, before his eyes met yours again.

“You’re right, he did sound like a mad man.” You mumbled back, your own eyes wandering his beautiful face. Because if you had to describe him with one word it had to be beautiful. Your eyes wandered from his eyes to the scar on his nose, to his pink lips, to his jaw, back to his eyes, paying extra attention to the scar that ran across his eyebrow. You felt breathless as the wind carried his cologne to your nose, the smell of cigarettes intensified from the one he just had. You felt how his hand traced shapes on your back, right over the fabric of your sleepshirt and you thought your brain stopped working for a moment.

“Theo didn’t sound like a mad man, Theo was right.” The voice of none other than Theodore broke the spell between the two of you, both of you jumped back, as if you were burned, “Please tell me that you guys saw that?” Theo asked Lorenzo and Blaise who was standing beside him at the top of the stairs.

“Yep.” Lorenzo said.

“Clear as day.” Blaise added before looking around, “And look, Archimedes is here, what a coincidence.” He added sarcastically.

“You guys sound very paranoid; he is just a normal cat.” You said with a laugh, after you had collected yourself from what ever had been going on with you and Mattheo. You leaned against the cold railing on the astronomy tower.

“You don’t think it’s a little weird how obsessed he is with Mattheo?” Lorenzo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey, what do I know, maybe he likes his energy, or I don’t know, his cologne maybe, it is good by the way,” you added, nodding to Mattheo who chuckled, “or he is just a weird cat who makes weird decisions.” You shrugged. The three boys looked at you for a moment in silence.

“Nah!” They all let out making you giggle.

“So, you would rather believe that he is some magical matchmaker?” You asked, disbelief mixed with amusement laced your voice. You heard Mattheo chuckle from beside you. The response consisted of various agreeing mumbles.

“So, what were you two doing before we came here?” Blaise asked while wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, because what were you doing? What would’ve happened if you weren’t interrupted? The thoughts made your blush intensify.

“I- we- we were, uh… oh look at the time, I got to get to bed, we have class tomorrow.” You rambled while going to pick up Archimedes and get out of there, the embarrassment filling you up. You heard chuckles and when you turned to walk away you came face to chest with Mattheo.

“Now where are you going, princess?” He asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Uh, to bed?” It came out like a question more than an answer.

“I bet Mattheo would die to join her.” You heard Blaise mutter to the others who burst out in quiet laughter. If Mattheo heard him, he didn’t let on. You bit your lower lip, as an attempt to stifle the embarrassment but also the giddiness you were feeling.

“Darling, it’s Friday, we don’t have class tomorrow.” He said slowly, his smirk growing into a whole grin when he saw that it dawned on you. You heard the others chuckling loudly at you, making you send a glare at them. They stopped laughing as they put their hands up in mock surrender. You nodded at Mattheo and put Archimedes down on Mattheo’s sweatshirt again. You ended up staying with them for a while, after the embarrassment subdued. You noticed that if you weren’t counting Mattheo, you had the most in common with Theo. Despite him thinking that your cat was some magical match maker. They were all really funny and you were really grateful for being able to see this side of them. You and Theo would gang up on Mattheo, poking fun at him through the night, Enzo and Blaise joining in from time to time. After a couple of hours, you started to feel tired, Archimedes had moved from the spot in Mattheo’s sweater to your lap, making you feel loved by your cat again. Mattheo bumped your shoulder when you stifled your like 10th yawn for the evening. You looked at him with a small smile before looking around at the others.

“I’m sorry boys, I’m too tired,” you yawned, “I’m going to bed.” You said with a sleepy smile on your face. They nodded understandingly. You stood up, Archimedes was asleep in your arms, like usual. The boys all said their various ‘good nights’ to you, but Mattheo rose to his feet and followed you to the stairs. You stopped at the top of the stairs.

“You don’t have to walk me back, I’ll manage.” You smiled at the boy before you as you placed what you thought to be a grateful hand on his arm. Mattheo looked like he wanted to say something, balling his hand into a fist before releasing it again and again. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

“Are you okay, Mattheo?” You asked gently. He let out a breath before looking you directly in the eye.

“Yeah,” he let out another breath, “just get back safe, okay?” He said before letting his hand brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand rested on the side of you neck before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, right by your hairline. You think your brain stopped working and your heart went into overdrive. You stared at him with wide eyes, a blush dusting your cheeks from his actions. He was watching you intently for any sign of discomfort. His large, warm hand, calloused from quidditch, was still resting on the side of your neck. He could no doubt feel your rapid pulse. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you finally came to it. You gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, good night.” You let out softly, the smile still on your face. You noticed that a similar smile made its way onto his face as well as he muttered a ‘good night’ back before you started to descend the stairs and make your way back to your dorm. You fell asleep thinking of him, Archimedes sleeping soundly on the pillow next to you. Over the next couple of weeks you realised that the feelings you had for Mattheo weren’t exactly as platonic as you thought they were in the beginning. You had started to hang out with the notorious boys more. You realised that you had developed a crush on the boy one night when the two of you were hanging out in the astronomy tower. The others hadn’t shown up yet, Archimedes were sleeping on the extra sweater Mattheo had brought for him, and you were sitting next to each other, shoulders touching, as he smoked his cigarette. You were joking about Cormac McLaggen, the older Gryffindor had a pompous air about him which the two of you found hilarious.

“And he thinks he’s so much better than everyone, god, I hate him.” Mattheo laughed to which you were laughing along.

“Also, that he totally turns into a douche if you reject him.” You gossiped.

“Really?” Mattheo asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, he asked my friend Megan out last year, she very politely declined, and he called her a bitch and stormed off.” You explained. You saw how Mattheo looked at you with a look between disbelief and irritation.

“He is such a tool, I wish I had a reason to kick his ass.” Mattheo muttered irritably. You let out a chuckle and turned your body fully to him, grabbing his face between your hands, slightly squishing it. His face made you let out a giggle.

“Hey, no need to fight him when you’re already better than him.” You giggled before letting go of his face. You saw a small smile on his face before he took another drag of his cigarette. This was the moment you realised, you liked him more than a friend. Little did you know that about a week after this Mattheo had gotten a reason to kick Cormac’s ass. You were walking with Hannah and Megan to lunch, it was a Friday, now early November. The castle was chilly, and the grounds wet from all the rain. Hufflepuff had beaten Ravenclaw in the first quidditch match a couple of weeks ago. Archimedes had found you while you were walking, and you had scoped your cat up in your arms. When you rounded a corner and into another corridor Cormac stopped you.

“Hi, y/n, do you have a second?” He had asked.

“Yeah,” you turned to your friends, “I’ll see you guys in lunch.” You told them, you assumed he wanted help with herbology, since you had a particular knack for the subject. You turned to Cormac with a smile but before you could say anything Archimedes leapt out of your arms and dashed around the corner you just came from.

“How can I help you, Cormac?” You asked kindly, even if you’d just made fun of him with Mattheo some time ago. He stepped closer to you, closer than comfortable. His strong, overpowering cologne hit your nose, almost making you sneeze.

“What do you say, how about a date? I can take you to Hogsmeade before taking you back to my dorm.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You tried your best not to make a face at his sleazy attempt at asking you out on a date.

“No, I’m sorry Cormac-”

“Come on, it will be worth your while, I’ve heard I’m a very good date.” He pressed on, stepping even closer to you, making your take a step back.

“She said no.” The voice of Mattheo startled you. He was staring Cormac down, his look dangerous. By his feet was no other than Archimedes. You scoped you cat up agian as you shifted your attention back to the tense situation before you. Mattheo looked scary, almost dangerous like this. His fist clenched, his eyes focused on Cormac, like he was some prey, he was clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“Look man,” Cormac lightly clapped Mattheo on his arm before continuing, “this has nothing to do with you, so how about you move along, huh?” what a brave man, you thought because Mattheo’s whole face darkened at this.

“What’s so hard to understand about the word ‘no’?” Mattheo asked, his voice cold and hard. You heard footsteps round the corner and cast a quick look behind you. It was Blaise, Theo and Enzo. It made you feel a bit better. You gently placed a hand on Mattheo’s arm, trying to diffuse the tense situation.

“Come on, Mattheo, let’s just go.” You said softly before turning to Cormac, “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” You said with the kindest voice you could muster. Then you heard it, it made your blood run cold. Cormac had muttered something under his breath right before straightening up. Mattheo heard it too.

“What did you say?” He asked, anger clear in his voice. Cormac, who wasn’t known for his superior intellect, repeated what he said, louder this time.

“Whatever, who wants a mudblood anyways.” He said, a smug smirk on his face. You felt tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t been called that in a long time. You felt a hand grab your arm, pulling you away from Mattheo, it was Theo. Tears were slipping down your cheeks silently. He rubbed your back in a comforting manner.

“You’re okay, come here, I’m sure Mattheo don’t want you to see this.” He said gently while leading you around the corner and placed himself in your way. The last thing you had seen was how Mattheo had frozen, presumably in anger. Then you heard a thud and a sickening crack. Someone had punched someone. Your eyes widened in panic as you looked up at Theo. Archimedes tried stroking your hand with his head to give you some comfort. Theo looked out from behind the corner.

“Don’t worry y/n, Mattheo is fine, he usually is.” Theo said, reassuringly while you could hear thuds and grunts repeatedly. You felt sick to your stomach with worry, and you tried to comfort yourself by hugging Archimedes closer, he made his usual pigeon sound before he headbutted your face in affection, also effectively drying your tears in the process. Theo let out a small chuckle.

“Will you believe me now that he is some magical match maker? He came and found us and led us here.” You knew Theo just tried to get your mind of the fight that was happening on the other side of the wall, but you let him.

“He did?” You asked softly as you looked into the yellow eyes of your cat.

“Yeah, he sounded panicked as well, I’ve never heard him meow so loud before.” Theo said also looking at your cat. Before you could talk further about the subject the thuds and groans had stopped and Mattheo came around the corner, a frantic look in his eyes. Your eyes searched his frame for injuries, a small cut on his lip and one larger on his eyebrow. He grabbed your face gently, his knuckles bloody and bruised.

“Are you okay, love? Did he hurt you?” He asked, worry evident in his voice. You saw in the corner of your eye how Theo slowly backed away and went around the corner, presumably joining Enzo and Blaise to give you some privacy. You looked at Mattheo a small frown on your face.

“You’re hurt.” You said softly to which Mattheo let out a huff like chuckle.

“That’s not what I asked, darling, are you hurt?” He asked, his voice gentle, but stressing the ‘you’. You shook your head as an answer to his question.

“But you are.” You said, stubbornly, “and is Cormac…” You trailed off.

“I’m fine and he is fine, well, bruised, but fine I guess.” He said, finally giving in. You let out a breath of relief.

“Let’s clean you up.” You said softly before dragging him into the girl’s bathroom that was just down the corridor.

“You know this is the girl’s bathroom, right?” He said suspiciously as you wetted some paper to clean up his cuts.

“Yeah, and I’m a girl.” You said as if it was obvious. Archimedes, who you had let down to wet the paper was sitting and watching the two of you on one of the sinks. Mattheo let out a chuckle. You gently dabbed at the cut in his eyebrow. Your other hand was resting on his shoulder. You felt his hands rest on your waist, just like that time in the astronomy tower. Your eyes looked over his face as you cleaned his cut.

“That was a very stupid thing to do, Mattheo.” You mumbled softly, you felt how he let out a huff like chuckle again, the sound echoing on the tiled walls of the bathroom.

“No one will ever get away with calling you shit like that. Now he and everyone else know that you’re off limits.” He muttered, some anger still left in his voice. You stopped what you were doing and looked, really looked, at him. His jaw was still tense, those copper-brown eyes that you liked so much still had shadows in them. You put down the damp paper on the edge of the sink before gently cupping his face in your hands.

“Hey, I’m fine, you’re fine, mostly. Thank you, for what you did, I just don’t like seeing you hurt.” You said softly, your thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones. His eyes immediately softened as they met yours. His hands squeezed your waist in an affectionate manner, the butterflies in your stomach running wild. He was looking at you intently, his Bambi eyes scanning your face, quickly stopping at your lips before returning to your eyes.

“To be honest I saw red the moment I saw him so close to you but when he said that,” He paused, closing his eyes as if he was remembering something painful, “I wanted to rip him apart. I don’t think I have a right to say you’re off limits to others, you’re not even mine, but I couldn’t stop myself from threaten him to stay away.” You had no idea where his honesty came from, but his admission made a gentle smile appear on your face.

“What?” He asked, when he saw your smile. You felt brave enough to snake your hands around his neck as you stood on the tips of your toes.

“But I am yours Mattheo, I’ve been for a while.” You mumbled lowly your own eyes flickering to his pink lips, the bottom one having a cut from the fight that had just happened.

“What?” He breathed out, his hands squeezing your waist once again as he simultaneously pulled you closer, so that you were flush against him. You nodded, a big smile on your face.

“Fuck, princess, you can’t just say shit like that and not expect me to kiss you.” He muttered, his face now considerably closer. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, you could count each individual eye-lash on his eyes from how close you were.

“Maybe I want you to.” You muttered before you closed the gap between the two of you. He kissed you back immediately. The kiss was slow and passionate and tasted slightly like iron as your hands gently raked through his hair. His hands ran over your back and waist, exploring every curve before finding their place low on your hips. His lips were soft and gentle as he tried to convey every feeling he had towards you through the kiss. You gently pulled on his hair, earing a groan from him, making you smile into the kiss. Finally, you had to break apart for air, but your faces stayed close.

“Does this mean I get to threaten people to stay away from you?” You asked teasingly, once you caught your breath from the kiss. Mattheo let out a chuckle before nodding. But before either of you could say or do anything else, the familiar sound of Archimedes could be heard. He walked over to you and headbutted both of you in affection. You let out a chuckle.

“You know what, I recon Theo was right about him.” Mattheo said with a chuckle before kissing you again.

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Play with fire Pt 2- LN4 X Fem reader

Pairing: Lando x Y/n Fewtrell

Warnings: physical Fight

Notes: Here's the second part, it gets messy but I'm almost done with part 3, so it won't be long for it to get better. As always, feedback is really appreciated, and receiving requests.

Thanks for the love.

Part 1

_______

It was the sixth month anniversary with Lando and you had planned to spend one whole week together in Mónaco. As part of the plan, he leased a villa and invited Max, Pietra, and a couple friends to Nice for the last days of the summer break. A few days later he lied and told them he was needed back at the MTC a week early but convinced them to stay back for the remaining days, and you lied to your parents saying you were spending that week with Leah, your bff.

It was day 3 of eating junk food, watching trash TV, and having sex 24/7. You had never been more in love with the man sleeping beside you. Your head on his chest, his soft snoring so relaxing you had no idea how you would be able to fall asleep without him every night.

"Hey mate, are you here?" Your brother's voice made your heart stop. Were you dreaming? "Bob!" Yup, it was your brother.

"Lan, baby" you moved him softly enough not to scare him.

"Yaaaawww" He yawned loudly "Hi bab-"You covered his mouth. His eyes stared at you confused.

"Max is here" You whispered.

"What?"

"Lando, are you here mate? Your car is in the garage" You could see his soul leave his body.

"What is he doing here?" you asked

"No idea!"

You heard a suitcase rolling down the hallway.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" You started panicking.

"Shh, everything is going to be ok. Stay here" he kissed your lips and stood up, putting on his boxers and joggers. "Be right back" he whispered, and walked out, closing the door behind him. You stood up, put on your pajamas, and rushed to press your ear to the door.

"Hey Mate"

"Oh hey, I thought you were at the MTC"

"Oh, yeah, we finished early"

"It's Wednesday, I thought you were staying there the whole week"

"Yeah, nah, came back this morning"

"That must be a record"

"Yeah, great results"

"Sounds like it"

"What are you doing here?" Lando was trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but damn was he a bad actor.

"Oh, I messaged you yesterday, P, wasn't feeling well so we decided to return early. You didn't get it?"

"I...I don't even know where I left my phone"

"Oook" Your brother stared at Lando trying to figure out why he was behaving weirdly.

"So, I'm hungry. Do you want to go eat something? Do you want to go get some pizza?" Lando tried to get Max away from the house so you had enough time to figure out a plan. As much as he had been waiting and begging for you to come clean, this was not how he would like to do it.

"Nah, thanks. Actually, P is downstairs sleeping in the car. Plus, I'm not sure if I'm tired from the drive or if I've caught whatever she has; I feel weird, so I'm just taking a quick shower, and I'll spend the night over at her hotel in case she needs something."

"Oh, ok, yeah, that sounds good" You and Lando could finally breathe.

"Are you ok mate? You look flustered"

"Yeah, nah, I'm just tired, it's been quite a week"

"Yeah, I imagine. I'm going to take a quick shower and will be out of here so you can rest"

"Ok, fine, yes"

Your brother went to the guest room, Lando waited until Max's door was closed to go inside his.

"Fuck, that was scary" You whispered still worried Max could hear you from across the hall. "And you're such a terrible actor"

"Hey, I'm not that bad"

"Yeah, you are" You hugged him, placing your head against his chest as his hands caressed your hair. The sound of the shower calming your rushing hearts.

"I have to admit tho" He pushed you away lightly so you were facing him. "This was kind of hot"

"What?"

"Yeah, like this rush, it makes me almost not want to tell him and see how much we can keep sneaking around"

"You're sick" You stared at him, a half smile on your face.

"This is what you've done to me, you've made me a sick, obsessed, unsatiable man" He made a fist with your hair and pulled you to join your lips in a wild kiss.

"Mate, do you have-" Your brother knocked on Lando's door but opened it immediately, a beautiful habit he's had since childhood.

You all stared at each other in shock.

It was a scene straight out of a comedy or a horror movie, depending on who you asked.

You could see your bother's mouth trying to voice his thoughts, but there were too many. The moment you saw his jaw clench you knew you had to speak before Lando did. You loved the man but even with all the PR training, he was the worst at this kind of situation.

"Max, listen" You started in a low voice, taking a step toward him without letting go of Lando's hand. Your bother just raised his hand, one finger up signaling you to wait. "Max, everything's fine, ok?"

"No" He said, his voice so low it was almost scary

"Yes" You tried to remain calm, and so did Lando but the thigh grip he had on your hand told you he was as nervous as you.

"You're fucking my little sister?" He finally voiced the loudest thought in his head, his eyes piercing holes into Lando's.

Not that you were sensitive to the word fuck, but this time it made your skin crawl, being used by your brother to describe what you and Lando had felt just wrong.

"Mate, wait" Lando mimicked your calm voice.

"I'm not your mate!" Your brother raised his voice and you squeezed Lando's hand as a silent request to remain calm. "Mates-don't-fuck- their-mates-sisters" You could see his arms tense, his fingers white from the tight fists.

"We're not fucking" He answered.

"Oh no? Then what's happening here?" He walked in the room pacing around in a frenetic way.

"Both your clothes everywhere, the bed a fucking mess, the condom box on the nightstand? Tell me Lando, what is it that I'm seeing?"

"Max, listen" Max's eyes fixed on your intertwined fingers.

"You shut up, wait until Mom and Dad know about this"

"Don't talk to her like that" Lando tried to defend you but you placed your hand on his chest trying to hold him back.

"I'm not a child anymore Max, I'm a grown-up"

"Oh please, you're a freaking child, and fucking Lando proves it"

"Whether you like it or not, I'm an adult now, and I get to choose who I date, no matter what you or our parents have to say about it"

"Date? You're dating him?"

"Yes" You answered confidently.

"Listen, mate, I love her, ok?" His voice in a calm yet confident tone that made your heart rush with love.

"I'm going to kill you"

"Max" You could read in his body language he was about to lose it.

"I'm going to kill you, Lando"

"Max, wait, please" You tried to place yourself between them but before you knew it your brother was pushing Lando against one of the walls, his forearm pressing his neck as he pushed him hard, Lando tried to push Max away without hurting him.

"Max, wait, what the fuck?" You tried to get close to them.

"Y/n, no, stand back" Lando yelled at you when he saw you were getting closer.

"You're a fucking morron" Your brother kept pushing Lando against the wall.

You rushed to the nightstand and took your phone from the charger ringing Pietra.

"Hello?" The calm sleepy voice on the other side of the line was the complete opposite of the scene right in front of you. You felt bad for bringing her into this, but you needed help to get your bother to calm down, and she was your best option.

"P, you need to get up here, please"

"Y/n? Where are you?"

"Lando's apartment, please, get up here now!" You hung up hoping she was on her way.

"Mate, listen to me, I swear to God, this is not what you think" Lando tried to use his calmest voice possible, trying just to cover himself from the fists being thrown around by your brother.

"Max, stop it! You're behaving like an animal, stop!" You tried to get your brother off your boyfriend but he kept pushing you back.

You heard the door panel beep and then the door opened.

"Over here!" you yelled trying to lead her to the master bedroom, not that the sound of stuff being thrown around wasn't going to lead her there anyway,

"What's happening?" She stared in shock at the scene in front of her "Max, stop it" She tried to approach the fighting men but they pushed her back too.

"Maximilian, you have to calm down, now!" P's voice actually worked, getting your brother to stand back.

"P, this is between Lando and me"

"No, it's not!" You yelled back at him.

"You shut up! Grab your things, you're coming with me right away"

"No"

"Y/n, I'm not playing!"

"Neither am I, I'm not leaving with you, Max"

"Aaaahhh" Your brother screamed and squatted down covering his head with his hands. Pietra was about to walk over to him but you stopped her, asking her to let you go first.

"Max" You said softly walking over to him. Slowly you placed your hand over his shoulder "Max, please you have to listen to us, please"

"Screw you two" He stood up, took P's hand, and walked out of the apartment slamming the front door.

You sighted in defeat, at least he wasn't punching Lando anymore, but it was so painful to see your brother so hurt.

"Baby" You walked over to Lando who was walking back to the bed, holding his ribcage "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I've had worst on track"

"Let me see" You held his face inspecting it, he had a couple of red bruises here and there, but most of the damage had been done to his chest and shoulders. You started shaking.

"Baby" You hugged him, falling to your knees in front of him, tears finally flooding your eyes.

"Shhh it's ok, it will all be ok" He hugged you tightly against his chest, he could feel slight pain but soothing you was more important.

He pulled you up and placed you on the bed, holding your thigh against him.

"It will be ok" he said softly against your hair.

"I know" You answered back between sobs.

"Well, the cat's out of the bag" Lando tried to joke the tension away.

"You think we should've told him sooner?"

"He might have reacted the same, so I'm afraid any time would've led to the same result"

You remained on the bed, with many questions in your heads. Now that Max knew you had to tell your parents, he would probably do everything he could to have them on his side. What was going to happen to Quadrant? Not that Lando didn't trust he could convince Max this wasn't a bad thing, but fear lingered there.

You stood from the bed and started picking up the mess the fight had left.

"Baby come here-"

"Lan, this helps me, let me just... if I can't fix the situation I can at least fix this"

He stood up and helped you clean.

After what felt like an hour or two your phone dinged.

Pi 🌸 Max is calm now, he has agreed to go back up and talk with you guys, we'll be up in a second, but please no PDA for now!

"Lan, they're coming back up, let's go sit in the living room"

"So he can break more stuff?" You stared at Lando "Sorry, no more jokes"

"And no hand holding or kissing, or hugging"

"Are you serious?"

"Just until we get him to listen to everything we have to say"

"Fine"

You waited for your brother in the living room, sitting on opposite sides of the sofa.

You heard the lock panel and your heart rushed. Your brother opened the door letting Pietra in first, she walked all the way next to the sofa but your brother remained at the door.

"Ok, I'm here, talk" His voice was a version you had never heard before.

"Max, we're sorry we didn't come forward about this sooner, I'm sorry, I just, I had no idea how to tell you" You spoke first.

A sarcastic snort left his body as he crossed his arms.

"Love" Pietra stared at him.

"Fine, continue" He rolled his eyes.

If only your brother knew he was responsible for this happening.

______________________________

Part 1

If I missed someone on the tag list let me know, also let me know if you'd like to be added.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch, @f1fantasys, @formulaal, @widow-cevans

[keyotos]

may i request how blade, gepard, welt, jing yuan and dan heng react to the “what are we?” question (also if you could add a little bit of yanqing and jing yuan father/son dynamic in jing yuan’s part? 😭😭

feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired tho. anyways, luv your works !! <333

the things we do

summary ⎯ late nights, lingering touches, longing looks. it just confuses you. this prompts you to ask the question that usually leads to the downfalls of most relationships: what are we?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, welt, & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i got so excited when i saw this. there's no angst in this btw

dan heng

⎯ dan heng didn't know what you guys were. but if he said that he treated you the same way he would treat march and stelle, that would be a lie.

⎯ yes, he was friendly towards you. but there were things he'd only allow when it came to you. things such as allowing you in his room during late hours; borrowing (stealing) one of his books; distracting him; the list goes on

⎯ so maybe you guys weren't just friends. but if you weren't friends, then what were you?

⎯ dan heng recognizes that there is at least something between you two. sometimes while reading one of his books, you'd lean into him a little too close: closer than friends should be, but farther than two people who are together. it was like there was a wall between the both of you that kept you in the middle ground.

⎯ dan heng realizes that you two may have crossed that line on a cold night.

“dan heng?” you mumble as you felt a dip in your mattress.

“how’d you know it was me?” he mumbled back, breath fanning on your neck. he had his arms wrapped around your stomach, slightly pulling you closer.

it was a stupid question to ask. how could you have not known it was him? you’ve felt the brush of his hands against yours one too many times; felt the way his hands have held onto yours for seconds too long. had he not realized?

“who else would sneak into my room this late at night?” you tensed against dan heng.

⎯ it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep near each other. but that’s the thing: you fell asleep near each other, not next to each other. and especially not falling asleep whilst wrapping their arms around the other person!?!?!?

⎯ dan heng didn’t know what had prompted him to come into your room that night. he didn’t know what had came over him. that night, it was cold and you weren’t in his room with him. so, in a tired dazed, he thought it was completely normal to abandon his room to come cuddle in yours.

⎯ key word: normal. it was normal to be around you. it was normal to want to be around you all the time. it was normal to want to wrap his arms around you and burrow himself in the nape of your neck. it was normal to want to (perhaps) place a chaste kiss on your neck.

⎯ and that’s when dan heng finally realized: that is not normal and he is in love. but he wasn’t going to bring it up. nooooo. no, because it would never work. right?

it was another late night. this time, dan heng was sitting on his bed while reading. he was relaxed today while you could not stop moving. today was the day where you were going to ask the infamous question: what are we?

⎯ it shouldn’t be so scary, but when dan heng and your feelings are involved, it seems as such.

“dan heng,” you ask, looking at the ground, “what are we?”

⎯ dan heng, taken aback, immediately slams his book shut and places his full attention onto you.

“what do you mean?” dan heng gets up and moves closer to you. dan heng already has an answer to his question.

“what are we doing?” you turn, refusing to look at him. “friends don’t do what we do.”

“we are friends,” dan heng places his hand upon yours, it brings you a feeling you’ve grown to familiarize with. “but," he pauses, carefully choosing the next words that come out of his mouth, "we can be more. only if you want," he interlocks your fingers together, holding them close to his side.

dan heng doesn't miss the smile you're trying to bite down as he leans into your touch. when dan heng leads you to the ground to continue reading, you had to physically stop yourself from bursting out in a (embarrassingly large) grin.

gepard

⎯ gepard hadn't put what thought into what the two of you were until tonight. what were you two?

⎯ captain and lieutenant, of course. but do captains and lieutenants share late nights together, reminiscing on childhood memories as they sit thigh-to-thigh next to each other. do they also sneak off during night shifts to get late night dinner? do they also look at the others' lips, dreaming about inconceivable thoughts about the other?

⎯ i mean, maybe? but maybe not.

⎯ then it hit gepard: how long have you two been like this? did the lines start to blur after you started nagging gepard about getting rest? when you helped him take on paperwork in the late hours of the night?

⎯ gepard loved your nagging. he loved spending late nights with you, because even though he has to do mounds of paperwork, at least he was able to spend time with you. he knew he had a duty to belobog, but when you're tugging on his hand, his fingers feeling hot and tingly paired with his burning cheeks, how could he say no?

⎯ but there are always risks. especially when you're a silvermane guard. your lives are simply too risky for anything to ever happen between the two of you. that's why gepard immerses himself in the little moments between you two: moments where he gets to pull you closer into him; when you place your head on his shoulder to rest; when he gets to subtly brush his hands over yours.

⎯ little did gepard know that these actions sent you into a little frenzy. you were pondering where the lines between close coworkers and lovers were drawn. you felt hot every time he touched you; felt brazen when you placed your head on his shoulders. did he feel the same? if he didn't, why was he initiating all these actions?

you asked the question on yet another late night in his office, the both of you doing paperwork. "gepard, what are we?"

⎯ he looked up instantaneously, the sound of your voice immediately getting his attention. when the question itself rendered in his mind, he had to take a second to think. gepard knows you two weren't only captain and lieutenant.

"captain and lieutenant," gepard plays dumb, not knowing how to properly answer your question so soon. your face drops for a second and gepard already wants to rush over and do something to make you feel better.

"you know we're more than that," you trailed off quietly. you took your focus off of gepard and now put your all into finishing your half of the paperwork, taking gepard's response as a sign of rejection. you finished and left for the night. when you bid him goodbye, gepard wanted nothing more but to you pull you in with the slight grasp of his hands on your arm and beg you to stay the night.

⎯ after that, you avoided gepard for a few days. there was distance between the two of you, and gepard was freaking out. had you taken his answer as a sign of rejection?? how does he make it right?? what'll he'll do without you???? how can he LIVE without you?? so, he goes to serval for help.

⎯ the next day he storms throughout the fort to find you. he hasn't spoken to you in a few days, and gepard swore he was going mad.

"yn," gepard rushed to stand in front of you, briefly slamming the door shut. he knew that it was loud, but right now gepard had more important priorities, "i need to talk to you."

his arm was placed on your wrist, turning you around tenderly, "yes, captain?" when you said captain instead of gepard, he felt his heart shatter.

"your question. from a few nights ago," gepard panted out, "i don't know what we are. but i want to find out. with you. only you, if you'd give me another chance," gepard flushed when he said his last sentence. you took notice of this, coming closer towards him.

"you're dramatic, gepard," you teased, pulling him into an embrace. you felt gepard melt within your touch, "i would've given you a chance no matter what."

blade (kinda modern!au-ish).

⎯ the question of the relations between you and blade never dwelled on his mind. you were here, you stayed, and you're happy. shouldn't that be enough?

⎯ blade never gave thought to the little smile he had on his face when he saw you laughing. he never considered why he felt so much more at ease when you were around. he just thought that, because you two were friends, it was normal to have tingly blissful euphoric feelings around you! he would never admit it either, but he always felt so excited when he saw you.

⎯ yeah... who is going to break the news to him

⎯ as much as he tried, blade couldn't ignore the fact that some of the things he felt for you were more than just friendship. he knew he needed to reevaluate his feelings, especially after he saw you with another guy the other day.

⎯ it's unusual for blade to become jealous. he usually isn't bothered by the problems of others. but today, he had a solid reason. you two had made plans to walk around the xianzhou and get lunch. so why would you be associating with this random guy while you had plans with blade?? stupid reasoning but can u blame him?? he's jealous.

⎯ he rushes to your side, interested in who this new mystery guy was. you guys were friends, so it would've been common courtesy to introduce him to you, right? so he marches right up to you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer into him.

"look at you making new friends," blade smirks as he feels your shoulder collide into his torso, "care to introduce me?"

⎯ you are out here FREAKING TF OUT. is blade jealous??? before this point, you thought your feelings for blade were unreciprocated, no matter how many times you tried to delude yourself otherwise. there were some times where you thought blade had similar feelings towards you, only for it to be debunked.

⎯ but this?? why was he suddenly pulling you so close to him?? why is he practically giving your friend the death stare?? is he jealous? he couldn't be: you two aren't even together. but is it possible that blade does reciprocate your feelings?

you try to avoid blade's eyes, making sure he doesn't see you flush, "this is [friends name]. he just moved here, i was just showing him around." you can feel your skin start to warm.

⎯ what does this mean? why is blade acting like this? are you two friends or not? is he just pulling your leg? these questions raced through your head as you followed him to the restaurant you two agreed to get lunch at.

your silence did not go unnoticed by blade. as someone who was usually very chatty and upbeat, you were exceedingly quiet today. "is something wrong?" he asked, tone less cockier than the one he used earlier.

⎯ yes something is wrong. you're confused on where the both of you lie. have you crossed the line? has he crossed the line? there were nights where you laid side by side, hearts both fluttering as you relaxed in the silent. there were also nights where you felt as though your heart would explode if blade had brushed a hand through your hair once more. but after blade's little stunt today, it left you confused on where he lay in the entire equation. you had to find out.

"what... what was that earlier?" you muster up the courage to look up at him. you're sitting across from him, legs almost touching his. if today was under different circumstances (and a different universe in general), this could be considered a date.

⎯ your question made blade lose this breath. maybe you caught onto the fact that he was jealous. blade fidgeted with his hand under the table; now that you've caught on, is now the time to sort out his feelings? blade realized that you two may not just be friends. but he hasn't thought about what you two would be if you weren't friends. and he'd sound like an asshole if he just responded with i don't know.

"just wanted to know who your friend was," blade diverted. it was an obvious and blatant lie, even he knew it.

"don't be like that," your eyes softened. you rested your head on your hand as you took a deep breath. if you weren't as hyper-focused on what blade's nexts words were going to be, you would be able to easily find your answer based on the way blade is admiring you. the way the sun hits your face perfectly, making you glow right across from him. you looked divine.

"what are we?" you finally asked. "are we really just friends?" you accentuated the last sentence with a small hint of hope in your voice; hope that may have implied you were wishing to be more than friends.

blade paused, trying to carefully construct his sentence. it would take hours for him to describe how he truly felt about you. it would take even longer to decipher his feelings towards you. so for now, he settles with this, "no. but whatever you want, i will grant it for you. and if you want to talk about it, i'll talk about it with you, because i'll be there for you. that i can assure you."

and you smile, because even though that answer was slightly incomplete, it meant that there was a sliver of hope after all.

welt yang

⎯ tbh i don't even think this man knows what a situationship is. but he regards you as a close colleague and his respect for you is very high. so high that some have trouble differentiating whether his feelings towards you are platonic or romantic.

⎯ there are so many nights and afternoons you two just spend together. you're either watching him draw or pressuring him to do art-offs. obviously the winner would be you (welt).

⎯ he spends so much time with you that, over time, the lines between friendship and relationship began to blur. you two were practically acting like a couple already, though you two didn't know it.

⎯ himiko had her suspicions. she knew there was something up with the both of you, but she didn't know if it was official or not. it would be embarrassing if she regarded the two of you as friends if the both of you were dating. however, it'd be equally embarrassing if she did the same thing, but vice versa. so she asked!

"so, yn. are you and welt together?" himiko asked out of the blue one day. the two of you were in the parlor car drinking tea whilst welt & the others were trailblazing.

you nearly spit out your tea at the question. before now, you've never viewed you and welt as anything but friends. "where did that question come from?" you quickly retorted.

himiko raised her eyebrows in shock, "are you serious?" she gave you a confused look, which slowly turned into a look of realization, "oh shit, i didn't just ruin your secret relationship right?"

you were baffled, "what?! no, no there is nothing going on between me and welt," you quickly downed your tea as a way to get rid of your blush (fluster = stupid). "where did you even get that idea from?"

himiko gave you a pitiful look, as if she knew something that you didn't. "everyone thinks you two have something going on. i mean, have you noticed the way he looks at you? and have you heard your little couple-y banter?"

"we don't 'couple-y banter,' himiko," you denied. himiko raised her eyebrow once more. "and he looks at me like a normal person would."

"yn, he looks absolutely enamoured with you every time he even glances at you."

⎯ from then on, you began analyzing everything that welt did. the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, etc. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. except for the fact that your heart raced the more you looked at him. and the way you felt like you were being transported to another world every time he would rest his hand on your shoulder. and welt was completely oblivious to it.

⎯ does he know about this? does he know about the grip he has on you? does he think you two share "couple-y banter????"

⎯ you couldn't take it anymore. at this point, you were desperate to know. partially because you felt as though everyone knew except you, but also partially because you needed to clear out these rampant feelings for your colleague.

"welt," you spoke with utmost seriousness in your voice, "what are we?"

⎯ now, welt did not expect this. he thought he was being subtle about his feelings. he thought the way his hands would slightly brush over yours was subtle. he thought that he wasn't being obvious. so how did you know??

"is there⎯something between us?" you stared at him, desperate for answers.

⎯ welt took your questions as rejections. the way your tone shifted to seriousness; the way you looked so worried; who else would act like this if they weren't going to reject someone? but alas, better to get it over with. things on the express may be more awkward, but it would've been awkward either way.

"i have feelings for you, yn," welt calmly stated. "i have for a while now. so, on my part, there is something between us. however, i completely understand if you feel differently."

you took a sigh of relief. this wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. plus, who said getting with welt was going to be negative?

"luckily for you," you leaned closer, "i don't," you grinned.

jing yuan

⎯ jing yuan was completely unaware of any romantic speculations between the two of you. of course, people talked, but it wasn't like he would pay attention to them. he was too busy focusing on you (how ironic).

⎯ jing yuan thought everything was completely normal between the both of you until yanqing brought it up.

"when is your partner coming over again? if they're coming soon, tell them i'm ready to beat them at chess," yanqing boasted proudly.

"i think you're mistaken, yanqing. i don't have a partner," jing yuan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. who would yanqing even mistake as jing yuan's partner?

"oh really? so the person that comes over every now and then with the horribly baked goods is not your partner?" yanqing was referring to you, of course. practically the whole entire world knows about your terrible baking skills.

"no? why would you think that?" jing yuan crossed his arms.

"the way you look at them. you're also really gentle with them. you're not cocky or like, smug. and you're always looking out for them," yan qing answers.

"okay, but i'm also gentle with you. and i always look out for you as well. what is the difference?"

yanqing sighs, as if jing yuan was the child in the room. "you'll understand soon enough," yanqing lectures.

⎯ jing yuan started to think then. he interrogated yanqing about his reasoning for the assumption, curious on how anyone could ever think that. but then he also realized that anyone also meant a lot of people. it wasn't just yanqing that felt this way; it was nearly everyone that knew the both of you.

⎯ jing yuan thinks you two are just platonic. keyword being thinks. with his job, he tries to avoid romantic connection most of the time, fearing for his future partner and more. but with you, jing yuan feels that connection there, but he's just ignored it so much that he thinks it's gone. little did he know that those feelings were still there, wild and unbridled.

⎯ one day you come over again, terribly burnt goods in your bag as per usual, and it seems like everything is normal. you casually talk with jing yuan like always. he still doesn't get why yanqing thought of you two as a couple.

your conversation is very casual and platonic. that is, until yanqing comes in, "i smelled burnt things and i knew you came, yn," he waved, "we need to play chess soon, before jing yuan," yanqing narrows his eyes, "starts training." yanqing smirked and immediately jing yuan knew he was up to no good. "we can talk about how jing yuan wouldn't stop asking questions about you the other day."

⎯ jing yuan swore his eye twitched. he was about to hunt down the little kid before melodic sound of your laughter captured his attention. and maybe, just maybe, jing yuan wasn't thinking anymore.

⎯ a few days passed and his feelings have not changed from, well, ever. jing yuan finds himself more and more entranced by you every time you come over. he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into you after yanqing's comment.

⎯ this has not gone unnoticed by your eyes, however, as jing yuan seemed to be getting more and more obvious. he'd gaze at you longer than usual, check up on you more often, be more affectionate. it was uncanny, but it was appreciated. besides, you had similar feelings for him too.

"are you two together yet?" yanqing whined as you took one of his chess pieces. "no," you, "why? want me around more?" you teased.

"yes," yanqing immediately responds. you didn't expect such a fast response. "so you'd buy me food when my allowance runs short. or better yet, convince the general to get me food. he'd practically listen to anything you say."

⎯ within these short days, you find yourself more and more intrigued. intrigued, yet confused. when and where were the lines drawn between you and jing yuan? and does he really feel the same, or is yanqing exaggerating.

you spontateously popped the question on jing yuan one night. yanqing was asleep (thank god), so no sneaky quips from him during this moment. "what are we, jing yuan?"

the sound of his name on your lips made jing yuan lose his mind; it nearly distracted him from your question at hand. "we are together, according to yanqing," he joked. you, however, were serious.

"do you want us to be together?" you peer up at him, "because i wouldn't mind," you say the last part so quietly that jing yuan has to lean down to hear you.

jing yuan grins; it's not a grin of a (so called) scoundrel, but a grin of a man who is in love. he takes you in an embrace and secretly thanks yanqing in his head, all whilst pulling you closer within him.

jing yuans was so insanely long bc i tried to include all the father son moments 😭😭 idek if it’s father son.

[fallingformatt]

“IM NOT THAT SCARY AFTER ALL” C.S.

dealer Chris x fem!reader

summary: what happens when you go to the beach with your dealer in the middle of the night?

warnings: smut! 18+ unprotected sex, mentions weed

word count: 1.9k

a/n: heyy everyone my name is lily and this is my first fic, please don’t be hard on me. Leave suggestions or requests! Hope you enjoy

➽───────────────❥

I kept tossing and turning in my bed, I couldn't fall asleep for the life of me it was so hot in my room that even only wearing my oversized t-shirt that barely covers my ass and a thong I was still too hot to fall asleep. I picked up my phone to check the time. "Fuck" I said under my breath as the phone screen read 2:37 AM "Well there is only one thing that can help me," I said to myself as I swiftly hopped out of my bed, rushing to my vanity. I pulled out my pink 'makeup bag' which really wasn't a makeup bag but a special bag that holds weed for when I want to smoke and that's the beauty of it, my parents would never think to look in my makeup bag that is placed on my vanity, hiding in plain sight.

I pull on the zipper revealing the contents of the bag: some papers a lighter and a small tin container "Bingo" I say to myself getting excited to smoke. I opened the container and was left shocked. It was empty not even a little left for me to smoke. I sighed as I knew what my two options were. Option one go back to bed and try to fall asleep in this hell-like heat or option two message my dealer who I'm scared of. I try to see him as rarely as possible. Chris is so hot but also hella scary and always seems cold and distant so I always kept it short and always buy enough to last me at least a month. I weighed out my options and decided that there was no way that I was falling asleep without smoking so I grabbed my phone.

"hey r u still up?" I texted him and waited for an answer hoping he was still up so I could get my weed.

"yeah i'm still up, need something ma?" he answered. He always called me ma or princess which I found weird but never dared to say anything about it.

"can I buy my usual? im all out" I text right back happy that he's still awake

"sure ma gonna be there in five" he answers

I quickly go out of my room and check if my parents are asleep. I go down the stairs and quickly sneak out of the backdoor as I usually do since it's the furthest from my parents room and they wouldn't hear the door opening or closing. I go around my house and he's already at my front door waiting in his car. I quickly get in the car. "hey ma I like what ur wearing" he says smirking. I look down and realize I forgot to put on shorts or pants and now I'm sitting in his car bare ass on the seat as my shirt raised up a bit while sitting down. "well I rushed outside and it's really hot outside" I said quietly. "Do you have my weed?" I continued right after. "Of course I do ma, here," he said and pushed a baggie with weed in my hand. My eyes lit up seeing my goods and a smile creeps on my face as I reach out my hand with cash "Damn, you're so excited over some weed. You know it's not good to do drugs right?" he says in a cold tone taking my money. "Well, this weed is the only way I'm falling asleep in this weather. Besides you should want people to buy weed it's how you earn your money" I say back. "Do you wanna go somewhere cooler?" Chris asks. " Well I don't know, my parents are asleep" I answer. "Exactly they won't even know you left the house," he says smirking again. "You've got a point, sure let's go," I say.

This interaction was a bit different than all other ones. He didn't seem as cold as usual but maybe I'm just imagining things.

We have been driving for at least 10 minutes now and I'm sitting on my side both my legs horizontally on the car seat as I look through the window listening to the music that's quietly playing in the car. "Where are we going? You never told me" I ask as I turn my head. I saw Chris looking at my ass as it was fully visible in the position I'm sitting in. "We're almost there" his eyes quickly shot to the road as he answered. "Were you looking at my ass?" I say changing my sitting position. "Well ur the one who's not wearing any pants" he scoffs coldly. "I didn't know we would go somewhere" I quickly answer. "We're here," Chris says and I look outside the window. We are at the beach, the moon is shining and the waves look so calming. We both get out of the car and head to the shore.

We find a good spot and sit down. We are the only ones here no people in sight, just me and him. Well if I think about it he could kill me and no one would ever know, the thought of that made me uneasy. "You good ma?" he asks "Yeah I'm fine" I answer looking at the pretty waves as the warm breeze hits my skin. "This feels so nice," I say quietly. "It does, do you want to smoke?" he asks holding a joint that he had just rolled in between his fingers "You bet I do" I answer and he puts the joint in between my lips and lights it. I take a puff and let the smoke out. We finish the joint and sit for a bit.

I look at Chris and notice his beautiful features in the moonlight, my gaze moving from his hair to his lips, as my eyes travel down further my eyes fall to his crotch and I feel my panties dampen. He turns his head looking at me and his clear blue eyes with a hint of red surrounding them meet mine. "what's up ma?" he asks not breaking the eye contact. "You know, you're not as scary as I thought," I say looking down at my fingers and playing with the sand beneath me. "Why do you think I'm scary, do you think I'm going to kill you or something" he shoots back a question. "That thought did cross my mind if I'm being honest. You're always so cold towards me" I say and he chuckles at my confession. "I would never kill such a pretty lady. I always love seeing you ma" he says and a smile appears on my face.

"You wanna go for a swim?" he asks "I don't have a swimsuit" I answer "Neither do I, let's go anyway, cmon ma don't be shy," Chris says looking at me shooting me a quick smirk before standing up and pulling down his shorts and his shirt running towards the waves. I get up and pull off my t-shirt throwing it into the sand and covering my bare chest with my hands as I have no bra on.

I start running towards the ocean as well, seeing Chris already in the water fully swimming. I swim to him and he looks at me staring me down, till he glances at my boobs and licks his lips. "Kiss me," he demands with a lustful voice. He takes my hand and pulls me closer until our bodies meet pushing his lips onto mine unexpectedly. His tongue exploring my mouth before breaking the kiss. He moves to kissing my neck sucking on it leaving a mark. I tilt my head back and let out a quiet moan as he hits my sweet spot. "Oh you like that don't you ma," he says and moves to kiss my collarbones leaving a trail of kisses till he gets to my breasts nibbling on my nipple. "Oh fuck" I moan. "Tell me what you want, and I'm gonna give it to you princess," Chris says in a deep voice. "I want you" I manage to say. He grabs my hand and starts running towards the shore as I'm following him. We get to the shore where our clothes are.

I lay down and he crawls in between my legs his chain dangling above my face his eyes full of lust staring at my lips before smashing his lips on mine once again as we share a passionate kiss. He pulls down my thong not breaking the kiss, doing the same for his boxers. As we deepen the kiss his fingers move up and down my heat before slamming them into me. I throw my head back as a loud moan leaves my lips. "Oh fuuck Chris" I moan out loud as he continues to thrust his fingers into me at a rapid pace. "Tell me what you want," Chris says as his voice grows deep "I-I nee-" I try to say but can't finish the sentence. Chris suddenly pulls his fingers out of me and my eyes shoot open in frustration "Full sentences princess. Tell me what you want" he says his eyes darkening with arousal "I need- I need you in me Chris" I manage to squeeze out as my hips buck up yarning for him. His thumb presses against my lips before I open my mouth sucking on it. Without any warning, he pushes deeply into me causing me to let out a scream-like moan, tears forming in my eyes. Without letting me adjust he starts pounding into me his tip kissing my g-spot "Oh my god Chris you're so big" I moan as I throw my head back. He pounds deeply into me keeping the same rhythm hitting my g-spot with every thrust "Look at me" he says but I keep my eyes shut. "I said look at me princess," his voice getting deeper than before as he grabbed my jaw, and our eyes met. "Look at you, taking me so good princess," he says as he pushes his lips on mine my hand travels to his wet hair lightly pulling it and he places his hand on my thigh, our bodies sticking to each other like glue.

He continues to thrust deep and hard as my moans slip against his lips, my hands traveling to his back. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back, rolling his eyes and letting out an animalistic growl I feel my climax coming. "I- I- I'm close don't stop please don't stop Chris" I cry out as I arch my back, digging my nails into his back leaving scratch marks, bucking up my hips to feel him even deeper. Chris lets out a moan as his thrusts become more aggressive and faster. I dig my nails into the sand holding on to anything I can "I'm so close I'm gonna cum" I moan out as I feel my walls tightening around his cock. Chris hearing that thrusts in me harder than ever making me almost scream out in pleasure. His breathing became hitched as he trusted a few more times before cumming letting out a loud moan, leading to the knot in my stomach to unravel, I let out a pornographic-like moan as my orgasm took over me.

As we both came down from our highs, he pulled his dick out of me kissing me before laying in the sand next to me. He turned his head to look at me and said "Come here ma" and pulled me closer as I laid my head on his chest. We watched as the sun started to come up "See I'm not so scary after all" Chris said with a chuckle. "We should do this again" he continued and I nodded my head in agreement. "Common let's get you home," he said and we got dressed heading for his car.

[chiipay]

BLUE LOCK ADDITIONAL TIME!!

Tw: reader is known for being very tired and exhausted all the time + also savage i think.

”is _______ sleeping?”

”looks dead to me.”

”should we wake them up?”

”Nah let's just dump them with water- like they did to us”

”Do you seriously want to dump a bucket of water on ________? Have some dignity, raichi!”

” does my face look like i gave a damn?”

I. Team Z

As team Z gathers around your sleeping figure on the cold floor, the other was figuring out what to do with you sleeping as bachira's hand sneaking up to hold your face gently before.....

SLAP!

A loud smack ringing into the team Z walls, the other quickly to turn their heads to meet with bachira's hand that has made contact with your left cheek that has now printed with red hand mark- that belongs to him-

” woah... _______ still asleep! Looks like they gave no sign of waking up sooner too!”

”BACHIRA!!”

”what? I was curious.”

II. Second selection

” You look tired.” niko tilted his head to look at your poor expression of choice.

”mhhmmm fine.. I've to walk back and forth because shidou's fought someone- I'm going to dieee-” you groaned tirelessly.

”hmm shidou?" He questioned.

” just a random player here. You'll meet him someday. He's nuts.”

”I see...” he hummed while staring at his feet.

” What do you see?” you grin widening hearing his comment.

”huh? Oh. Haha. Not funny” he looked up to you under his bangs as his lips form a small smile understanding your humour very well.

Well this isn't so bad ain't it?

III. WORLD FIVE

”should i visit Harajuku or Kyoto?" Pablo asked.

”i don't know...stop asking me about places- I barely stepped outside of my own house..” you snickered.

”tell me where to find some ladies in kimonos?" Adam Blake chipped in as well making you more uncomfortable than you already were.

”..uhh i don't know maybe Kyoto? i heard they're popular with that...? Am i a tourist council or something?” you sighed.

V. U-20 VS BLUE LOCK

The Itoshi Sae is staring at your soul. You could tell even though you're staring at something else you could feel his eyes piercing on your back- goodness he's scary. No wonder he got haters...

” hey uhm.. Itoshi. Sorry about shidou earlier.” you turned to face him.

".... it's fine.”

” okay...”

It was the most awkward conversation you had with someone. You probably will avoid itoshi sae.

....

A/n : that's all ig sorry for disappearing. Alright imma head back to hibernation again who knows i might even won't wake up (⁠*⁠・⁠～⁠・⁠*⁠) might as well be dead for awhile. Take care of yourself! Make sure to eat and drink! Don't starve yourself to death! Stay healthy! Bye.

[angstywaifu]

Hi, how have you been??

I was wondering if your requests are still open? If so, it crosses my mind: what if Garrick had a cousin secretly dating Bodhi, and how would he and Xaden react if they found out about their relationship after Bo goes feral because Garrick's cousin is hurt?

It's just an idea, if your requests aren't open or makes you uncomfortable in any way I apologize and please forget I asked in the first place.

Love your work, btw. Bye 👋 💕

Worst Kept Secret - Bodhi Durran x Reader

A/N: Just like Bodhi not telling Xaden and Garrick, better late than never right? I'm so sorry this took so long to get to. I hope you like it!

Masterlist | Support Me

“We should probably tell them soon.” I tell Bodhi as we make our way to class.

Bodhi’s eyes widen before he shakes his head. “Hell no. Garrick would have my head if he found out about us.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re acting like he’s my brother.”

”He may as well be with how protective he is over you. Have you seen the way he glares at any guy that looks your way for a second too long?”

I sigh. “You’re over reacting, it will be fine. He’s going to have to find out eventually.”

”Yeah, when he’s stationed far away from here when he can’t hunt me down and murder me.” He says before coming to a stop outside his classroom.

It had been six months since Bodhi and I had started seeing each other. Both of us agreeing to keep it a secret at first in case it didn’t go well or we decided to go back to being friends. But six months in it was clear that this was going well, and it was getting harder and harder to cover up sneaking off together. Especially now Bodhi and I were helping with supply runs, meaning our time together was becoming more and more limited.

“No we are telling him before he graduates and gets stationed elsewhere.” I tell him sternly.

Bodhi’s shoulders sag in defeat, before slowly nodding his head. “Fine, but when my body turns up one morning in the middle of the rotunda just know it was because of you.”

I quickly check the hallway to make sure we’re alone before leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll remember your noble sacrifice. See you at challenges.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at me as I turn and walk away to my own class.

Bodhi.

I rush into the training room, the familiar sounds of fighting echoing around the room as everyone watches on. My squads flight training had gone over time due to an inccident, so I’d missed the first half of challenges. I push my way through the crowd to the ususal spot I stand in with Y/N, Garrick, Xaden and Imogen. But as I break through the crowd the only one there is Imogen. I scan the mats in the centre of the room, expecting to see them fighting on one of the mats. But none of them are there. Strange.

”Where are the others?” I ask Imogen as I manouver into the gap next to her.

”Healers Quadrant.” She says timidly, as if almost scared to tell me. Which was not normal for her at all.

”Imogen, what’s wrong?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest as I look down at her with narrowed eyes.

She looks up at me and recoils slightly at my stare. “Jeez, it’s scary how much you look like Xaden when you do that.”

”Imogen.” I say more sternly.

“It’s Y/N. She…”

”Imogen I swear to the gods you better tell me what happened.” I demand.

”She got badly hurt in challenges. That new Barlowe kid got paired up with her.”

I feel all the colour drain from my face at her words. Barlow had no care or regard for anyone but himself. He was ruthless, and was already known for killing quite a number of cadets already. As well as sending a long list of cadets to the Healers Quadrant in very bad condition.

I turn and shove my way through the crowd, Imogen calling out to me in an effort to stop me. She was pretty much the only one that knew about Y/N and I. She had covered for us numerous times after stumbling across us one night in an abandoned tower. Clearly it was not as abandoned as we had thought.

As soon as I push through the doors, I sprint over to the bridge connecting us to the rest of the college. But no matter how hard I push myself it feel as if time is slowing down, as if I’m running through mud.

I can’t help but think of the worse. I had seen first hand many times how Jack’s opponents had ended up post challenging him. Most of them unconscious, a lot of them gushing blood from some sort of wound, or…. Dead. No she isn’t dead. Imogen would have said so. But she had called out to me….

The thought has me pushing my legs harder, barrelling towards to door opening that finally looked like it was getting closer and closer. Rounding the corner, I nearly take out a healer who squeals with alarm as I dodge past her.

I push open the doors to the infirmary, Garrick and Xaden’s heads whipping towards me as I rush towards them. “Where is she?” I demand loudly as I stop in front of them, frantically looking around at the beds.

”She’s back there with Nolon.” Xaden tells me, nodding towards the closed door at the back of them room.

I side step him, starting to rush towards the doors before a hand grabs my flight jacket and hauls me backwards. I reel around, shoving Garrick in the chest hard, causing him to stumble back as he releases my jacket.

”What the hell has gotten into you?” He nearly yells at me, the room going silent as the healers look at us with alarm.

I freeze, realising I’m reacting in a way I probably shouldn’t be for someone they think I’m just friends with. Yes she was Garrick’s cousin, but I had only know her coming up to two years now. Garrick should be reacting like I am, which I’m sure on the inside he was.

“Sorry. Imogen just made it sound bad.” I say as I lower my gaze, awkwardly scratching the back of my head in an effort to pass this off.

”What did she say?” Xaden asks.

”That she was up against Barlowe.” I say quietly. Imogen hadn’t actually said it was bad, I had just assumed it was. If I was smart I would have rushed in and asked what happened. Not come barging in here like I was out for blood.

”And?” Garrick asks, his tone almost teasing as if he can see right through me.

“And that was it…” I mumble out, but with the breathy laugh I hear from the two of the I know they’ve heard me clear as day.

“Yes it could be better, but all Barlow managed to do was break her arm.” Xaden tells me, my head snapping up in relief at his words. A broken arm was nothing, happened all the time around here. And easy fix. And explained why she was in the back with Nolan.

”If anything, Barlowe should be the one you’re worried about.” Garrick says with a laugh.

I turn and follow his gaze to where Barlowe lays in one of the beds I’d missed in my scan of the room, clutching a very blood stained cloth to his side as the healers work to mend the wound. On his bedside table lays on of her daggers covered in his blood. I can’t help but smile knowing that she’d gotten him back, and done worse damage to him than he had done to her.

“Definitely not worried about him. He deserves it.” I say as I turn my attention back to them, both of them nodding in agreement.

I think I’ve gotten away with hiding why I reacted the way I did, until Garrick looks me in the eyes and just smirks at me. “So instead of trying to pass off your reaction due to Imogen being vague, you going to man up and tell me you’re dating my cousin?”

I feel like my heart stops as my eyes go wide. Xaden doesn’t even try to hide his laughter at my reaction to Garrick’s words.

”How the hell did you know?” I blurt out with out thinking, mentally slapping myself.

Garrick rolls his eyes. “You really trusted Imogen to keep your secret from us?”

I groan as I hide my head in my hands. “Definitely wasn’t your smartest move cousin.” Xaden says as he pats me on the back.

“Excuse me while I go find a certain pink haired cadet to murder.” I grumble out as I storm out of the infirmary back to the Rider’s Quadrant, Garrick and Xaden’s booming laughs echoing behind me

[lovelykil]

headcanons─

: ➛ killua & gon x reader older ver.

hc; night owl reader

cw; little suggestive themes mentioned

note; I have a huge headache (´ﾍ｀；) also, this was one of the choices everyone wanted so 😛

˗ˏˋ gon

“you're still awake?” o(*´ー` ?)

I'm pretty sure he passes out dead cold right when he hits the sheets. After a long day of training to build his aura and practice his new ability he's tired asf

Bisky gives yall no break

He changes into his muscle shirt and some sweats then jumps right into bed, you following along.

He tells you goodnight and places a little peck on your cheek before clinging onto your arm and snoozing

You're obviously exhausted too from today but somehow can't find yourself to be sleeping, but to ponder.

You think about how you even began to be with the ravenette and how your life changed for the best along side with him.

You wonder if killua actually really liked you or not σ(￣∇￣;)

He always seemed distant or not wanting to deal with you at all, but he always had your back in fights so.. maybe he did have a soft spot for you.

minutes past by.. You're still stuck in your head, looking up at the ceiling.

an hour..

two..

three..

four?!

damn what possibly could you be thinking about

You played a game on your phone soon enough from after all this thinking , the bright screen waking up the teen next to you.

You were actually surprised that woke him up he was literally facing away from you after shifting in his spot countless times.

He sits up with a disturbed expression, rubbing his weary chocolate eyes.

"y/n, can you turn off your phone?"

"I- yeah sorry gon." (￣▽￣;)

With a click the device shut off and was placed beneath your pillow, you sigh quietly to yourself.

"I wonder what your dad looks like." You whispered.

"I'm sure like me" gon tiredly smiled at you. You looked back at him then at the ceiling, you let out a soft chuckle.

"obviously, I bet that's where you got your weird hair"

"hey!" (｀ε´ )

"my bad" ( ￣▽￣)

gon lays back in his spot, his thoughts flooding his mind aswell.

"how long have you been awake?" He lets out, his head turning.

you think before answering.

"awhile."

"awhile!?"

"couldn't sleep"

"bisky isn't gonna go easy on us tomorrow you need to get your rest you know." The boy tugged on your shirt, trying to get you to listen. Your eyes move around the dark room then you grumble.

"okayy" you scoot towards him to feel his warmth, he lays his hand on your shoulder to kiss your cheek and smile.

"we can finally sleep together now!"

"ahhg, yes night gon."

"goodnighttt" (^^)

will make you go to sleep with kisses and hugs

he cares alot about your health and sleeping is the way to extra energy !!

so I don't think he stays up much

If he does it's possibly because of a sleepover with killua

idk I see him needing that beauty rest 🗣‼️

˗ˏˋ killua

“go to sleep WOMEN” o(｀Д´#)

does NOT need that beauty rest 🗣‼️

he can stay awake for awhile 2 to 3 days I think he said?

he just built different 🥶

so match him up with someone who also can't sleep ..

boom

chaos.

jk I'm sure he's pretty chill about it

like you also can't sleep? cool wanna have a pillow fight and watch scary movies??

you two are probably always doing something in the middle of the night.

nothing weird YOU PERV.

I mean, unless..😗

NO.

like sneaking into the kitchen to steal snacks together, quietly so not to wake up kurapika 😓

kil always eats most of them though to piss you off, then you end up yelling at him as he looks at you with his cat smirk

slowly shoving the chips into his mouth.

ooohh that boy gets on your nerves (`へ´*)

he won't admit it but he enjoys these nights with you, he's impressed how long you can stay up till you eventually pass the fuck out

idk cause sometimes at night too he gets a little.. silly.

suddenly his confidence is WAY high in the dark room as you two talk to each other after snacking.

he plays with the ends of your shirt as you sit on his lap and rant about something

"oh? uh-huh. mhm

he's not listening, he wants to rub his hands against your torso from under your shirt as you gasp from the cold sensation of his digits.

maybe even let him take off your shirt if he's lucky.

though, you knew what he was doing there was a reason why he wanted you to sit on his lap 😒

you grin to yourself, shaking your head.

you stopped talking and grabbed his pervy hands.

"I know what you're doing." You whispered.

"damn it, thought I was careful this timee" He whined.

you escape from his lap and lay next to him with a giggle.

"ohh, you're so cute cmere." You tease the boy, listening to him boil in heat. His pale face pink as flamingos as you lean in to kiss his cheek.

suddenly that confidence died out.

"you're so embarrassing.." (≧ヘ≦ )

he muttered irritatedly but he very much enjoyed that peck hoping you would kiss him on the lips now.

in which you did, the kiss was long and gentle. Your hand held his cheek as his landed on yours your lips formed a smile when he did so causing him to break away from the tender kiss and grow more flustered

"WHYD YOU DO THAT-"

"Smile?"

"YEAH.. DON'T DO THAT."

"Because the way your hand went on mine was cute."

". . ."

"You KNOW WHAT go to BED" ////

honestly it's fun being with him, wasting your nights with the albino

and having meaningful (sometimes) conversations at night, the kind where you and him smile together, with nothing but love in each of your eyes.

[rhiannonsknife]

https://www.tumblr.com/rhiannonsknife/769506377725050880/what-abt-a-pt-2-where-jackie-and-r-are-sharing-a?source=share

I can just imagine r and nat hanging out more since that day, and jackie not ok with that. So she confronts r but r is like "we're only friends, that's what you wanted"

— summary: this takes place after ‘what’s the name of the game’!

— warnings: the usual: some angst. implied internalized homophobia & cheating.

the shift happens slowly, almost naturally. after that day at the airport, you and nat start spending more time together. at first, it’s incidental. you end up walking out of practice at the same time, trading offhand comments about coach martinez’s “relaxed” post-championship drills (which somehow still leave everyone drenched in sweat). she’s easy to talk to in a way that surprises you: dry humor, sharp observations, and a way of understanding things without making you explain too much.

“you’re not as uptight as i thought,” nat quips one afternoon, as you wait for her to finish her smoke.

“you’re not as scary as i thought,” you fire right back, and she actually laughs.

lunches follow after that: you find yourself sitting with nat at school while she sneaks fries off your tray.

from there, the connection simply sticks. nat isn’t like jackie, or anyone else on the team, really. you don’t think you’d ever want her to be: she has a way of seeing right through people without making a big deal about it. you get the feeling she’s been through enough that she doesn’t bother with pretense, which is refreshing in a way you didn’t expect. she simply gets it. (‘it’ being your shared history of wanting somebody who’s so clearly out of your league.)

after she approached you about what’s been going on between you and jackie, it wasn’t all that hard to figure her out too. it became clearer the more time you spent around her how nat’s mood seemed to shift whenever lottie was around. just like your thing with jackie didn’t need to be verbalized, you chose not to confront nat either. instead, you both find comfort in the other’s understanding. you actually start looking forward to these moments, finding a new sort of friendship in her company.

it doesn’t go unnoticed by jackie.

it starts subtly, like the pointed glances she shoots your way when she catches you laughing at something nat said during warm-ups.

at first, you think it’s just jackie being jackie. but slowly, it becomes more apparent that she’s watching you and nat more closely than usual:

one afternoon, after practice, you and nat stay behind, chatting about everything from classes to the lingering aches in your body after the relentless drills. it feels normal, easy as it always does with her, until you catch a glance from jackie. she’s coming from the locker room with shauna, eyes narrowing slightly when she spots you. her smile falters for a moment before she waves it off and starts walking off, not looking back as she makes a show off dragging shauna away with her.

another day, you’re sitting in the cafeteria with nat, your tray half-finished, when jackie appears at the edge of the table. her eyes dart to nat, then back to you. you can practically feel the tension in the air as jackie slides into the seat next to you without waiting for an invitation. she tosses a casual “hey,” at nat but keeps her focus entirely on you.

“so, what are you two up to?” she asks, voice a little too sweet. you try to ignore it, but the way jackie’s eyes flick to nat every few seconds makes you uncomfortable.

the next time you see jackie, it’s in the hallway after your last class, for once without nat glued to your side. you’re on your way out when she catches up to you, her footsteps quick and firm behind you.

“can we talk?” she asks, her voice sharp through the otherwise empty halls.

you nod, trying to brush off the unease creeping up your spine. as soon as you turn to face her, you can tell something’s wrong. jackie’s expression is tight, controlled, like she’s trying to manage something she doesn’t want to say.

“what’s going on with you and nat?” she demands.

you blink, surprised by the sudden confrontation. “what do you mean?”

jackie exhales sharply through her nose, her nostrils flaring. “you know what i mean,” she snaps. “you’ve been spending all your time with her lately. like, all your time. at practice, after practice! hell, even at lunch!” her voice hitches and your heart sinks a little. you can see the change in jackie’s posture; the tension in her shoulders.

you take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “jackie, nat and i are just friends. that’s all!”

she shakes her head, a humorless laugh slipping out. “yeah? because it doesn’t look like that. you’re always laughing, whispering like you’ve got all these inside jokes i don’t know about. it’s like…” jackie trails off, her lips pressing into a hard line.

“like what?” you ask, your voice softer now, though the tension between you still feels like it could snap at any second.

jackie looks at you, her jaw tight, but says nothing. so you sigh, deciding to lay it out plainly. “jackie, you told me you wanted to keep things between us as just friends. i’m…i’m respecting that-“

“i know what i said,” she interjects quickly, like she’s trying to cut off whatever you’re about to say next.

“do you?” you step back, crossing your arms. “because it kind of feels like you’re just upset that i found someone who actually gets it!”

jackie freezes at that, her brows drawing together in confusion. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you hesitate, the words hanging in the air heavier than you’d intended. there’s no taking them back now. “nat figured it out,” you admit slowly.

the reaction is instant, as you expected: her eyes widen, panic flickering across her face like she’s been struck. “what do you mean she figured it out?” she demands, her voice rising. “what did you tell her?”

“nothing!” you say quickly, taking a step forward. “jackie, i didn’t say anything. nat…she just picked up on it, okay?”

“she knows?” jackie whispers.

“she doesn’t know everything,” you try to reassure her. “she just…she could tell something was going on. and honestly? she gets it, jackie. she’s not judging you, and she’s not going to say anything. it’s not like that!”

jackie doesn’t seem reassured. she runs a hand through her hair, pacing a few steps before stopping to glare at you. “you don’t know that,” she snaps. “you can’t just assume she won’t-“

“she won’t,” you cut her off decisively. “nat isn’t like that. she’s not going to out you, jackie!”

because, of course, it’s about that again. it’s about jackie’s truth, jackie’s reputation, jackie’s fears. it doesn’t seem to occur to her that nat knows about you too.

“why didn’t you tell me?” she asks finally. “if she figured it out, why didn’t you warn me?”

“i didn’t want to make it worse,” you admit. “and…i didn’t want you to think it was something to freak out about. i wanted to protect you”

jackie lets out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms tightly. “protect me,” she repeats, with a scoff of disbelief. “from what? myself?”

you don’t answer, unsure of what she wants to hear.

she shakes her head, her jaw tightening again as her defenses snap back into place. “you think you know what’s best for me now? is that it?”

“that’s not what i said,” you reply instantly. “but, jackie…you are freaking out right now. and you don’t have to!”

her hands ball into fists at her sides before she abruptly turns away. she takes a step, then stops, shoulders rising and falling with the deep intake of breath. “i just…” jackie starts, but doesn’t finish. her head dips slightly, her voice barely audible when she finally says, “you know i didn’t want anyone else to know”

“jackie-“

“i can’t do this right now,” she interrupts. when she turns back to look at you, her expression is the one of the jackie you know, her walls firmly in place. “just…do what you want. hang out with nat. be friends. i don’t care!”

the way she storms off says otherwise, her steps quick as she disappears down the hall, leaving you standing there with the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on you.

you had told yourself you were doing the right thing by letting jackie set the boundaries, but as you stand there, you can’t help but wonder if she’ll ever stop punishing herself, and you, for all the things she can’t say aloud.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Loyalties

Did you know? That one of the unexpected benefits to being reborn, with your memories intact, is that you carry your first life's cultural taboos with you? All your knowledge, all your superstitions, every horror movie you've ever so much as glanced at. Like a dowry, brought with you, into this, your new life.

You end up not giving as much weight, to local superstitions. Especially the ones you know are not true. How? Well, sometimes? In the mad, random, overwhelming blur of the Cosmos? You end up in a Reality that to YOU? Was once fiction. Living in a snapshot of that world's history, as it plays out. Just as it was prophesied.

It's kinda disorienting. But? You get used to it.

Though you DO have to make a choice. Quickly. And decide where in that prophecy you want to stand. After all... there are many ways it could go. It WAS a "game". A story of romance. That other's lives would be impacted? That nations might rise or fall? That people could and will DIE? Oh, that is irrelevant! Isn't it?

They are young.

In LOVE.

Obviously, I could not risk my life on such irresponsible grounds. Plant my flag and swear loyalty, to such fickle hearts. I would die. They would get me killed, for their love story. No... No, what I needed? Was something stable. Selfish. Someone who would claim, but would KEEP.

I needed someone who rewarded loyalty. Someone who praised cleverness. Protected his own. Had (and would again) kill any who set untoward eyes upon those who served him. Someone guaranteed to survive until the end. Machiavellian, scheming. A soft and twisting word. Whispered kindly, in so many, many ears.

The power behind whichever throne he chooses.

Most Senior Royal Advisor, Iwamoto Nobutoshi. My boss. Or, really, Master I guess. Boss was for gangsters. Which was still weird for me. Part of me still twitched violently, every time I said the word "master". My brain insisting, it was either a sex thing or a slavery thing, and that I should respond with Immediate Violence at being told to call anyone that.

Yeah... there ARE downsides to keeping your memories. It really is a mixed bag, all told.

But, hey! All those horror movies I've seen in passing? Scary Horror-Terror Stuff I've absorbed through cultural osmosis? Has been really coming in handy, not gonna lie. So has my understanding of what constitutes "psychological warfare" and "mindfuck-y, liminal, torment".

It should NOT be as cathartic as it is? But... not gonna lie. I've gotten weirdly GOOD at this. Learned to become one with the shadows. Sneak into and out of places, I rightfully should not BE. Usually with a bucket of animal blood from a butcher's. Occasionally, if I KNOW they have someone who can test it? I get the bucket from the morgue.

Which? Is gross as FUCK. And disrespectful. But I have to believe they'd be totally down for fucking with some Evil Rich Assholes. Plus I donate funds to their family's anonymously. So I like to think it balances out? Still don't like to do it, though. I feel like the longer I've been here, the more my morals have chipped away...

Where was I? Right! Tonight's "art"!

I forget where that quote was from, exactly? But? It was true. People do not look up nearly enough. Worse yet, most manors around here? Had attics and weird pockets in their ceilings, with easy access to the floors below. I had? Gotten past? SO many patrols this way. So, SO many.

Frankly, an ALARMING number of patrols.

I'd taken to putting traps in the ceiling, back home.

What I was aiming for, here, was the private rooms. Not the hallway outside the private rooms, oh no, those would be patrolled to hell and back. But inside. Plus? It would have that added, spicy, "we can get you where you sleep" fear factor. And? Having their oh so TRUSTED, highly trained gaurds? See NOTHING? Perfect~

Cause? We? Were doing a good ol fashioned "Sins of The Past" Haunting!

The trick, if you don't actually have any good oppo-research available? Is to be vague, yet aim for things you do know about them. Let them fill in the blanks. Such as? The VERY convenient deaths of Lord Jackass's other brothers, which cleared HIS way towards power. There's no PROOF of any wrong doing... but~? Guilty hearts DO tend to tell on themselves~!

Slinking down the rope ladder silently, into the frankly hideously overdecorated room. I got to work. On silent feet, I began to set the stage. Furniture, lifted and silently stacked, around the snoring Lord and his equally unconscious wife. Expensive pottery, covered in a thick and padded bag, before it is struck.

As though some silent blast of power had gone off. Each piece, placed right back where it had been, now broken, on the floor. Next? The most time consuming, but subtle, one. Also the one that would spread farthest as gossip. Using a custom made seam ripper, tear out the eyes of every example of his family's crest on his clothes. On his bedding.

Yes, ALSO on the robe he wore to bed. That one takes very gentle movement. Very nerve-wracking, not gonna lie. You gotta go slow. Once you DO? Good ol "tears of blood." Just paint it right on the cloth, let it stain. As though the crests were weeping.

THEN, you paint the room in nicely vague horror movie script.

"Brother. Why?" "We know. We know EVERYTHING. How could you?" "We are tired of waiting, join us. Join us Brother." "We are witness, a shame upon our blood."

And other such gems! Plus the good ol hands scrambling, covered in blood, to a point in the center of the room. Put a round painters cloth down, and~? Gently sift ash and bone dust (I dried up bones from the kitchens, then ground um! Also great for gardening.) over the floor. Step UP, to my ladder, kit away, grab the cloth, and? Off we go!

Room successfully haunted.

Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole, really. Is it a BIT much? Yeah, probably. People lose their SHIT. I apparently have "a talent", according to my teammates. Which is nonsense. It's all B-grade horror move nonsense and house of horrors gross outs. Visceral ick. But it's NEW here, so I guess that counts? Even if I am plagiarizing the FUCK out of somebody.

Thankfully, though, dispite my "talent"? Master Iwa- ...No, wait, didn't he tell me recently to call him by his name? Uncomfy. A good sign, obviously, but... uncomfy. Don't Like that he knows who I am. I was aiming for, you know, mid rank? Not disposable but pretty forgetable? But now I have a Useful Skill. Have proven to be INTELLIGENT.

Fuck, I even made the mistake of cleaning up and organizing PAPERWORK. You know, paperwork? A thing you would have to READ and MAKE SENSE OFF, to be able to organize? Have to create some kind of workable and efficient system, by WHICH to sort? I thought it was an assistants! Not HIS!

One fuck up is all it takes.

He will find you, he WILL rip the secrets out of you, and yes! He WILL smile pleasantly the entire fucking time! It's horrifying! Kinda cool! I'm pretty sure my life flashed before my eyes! Ha ha... Holy SHIT.

Right, where...? Right! My "talent"! Master Nobutoshi? Big on "right piece for the right purpose". Yeah, you could FORCE people to go against their ideals, their beliefs, their very nature... but you can only do so, for so long. Fear fades. Pain can be overcome. Not everyone fears death.

He regards it as foolish, inefficient, to drag and force and scream.

No, no! He? Oh, he merely... suggests. A softly spoken recommendation. A guiding hand, to show you, the best use of your skills. And if that guidance just so happens to serve his interests? Well... what a wonderful coincidence~ How fortuitous.

Heavy hands get broken. Snapped at and slapped away. But a gentle touch? A little nudge? Sweet whispers in your ear? That tell you what you want to hear? Guide you where HE wants you to be? Well, THAT is so much harder to notice, isn't it. So, SO much harder to fight.

I chose pretty well, I like to think. Because no matter the game? He'll come out on top. Probably laugh, as all the other players, dance to his tune. Who WOULDN'T want to be on his team? His team wins.

And winning? Means I survive.

Dropping off my kit in the shed at the back of the Iwamoto guest residence gardens (where, should it be found, the presence of such things could be blamed on unscrupulous guests), I trudge back towards the servants quarters. I'm tired and filthy. It's the kind of late? Where it's flipped right around to become early.

Luckily, me and my teammates plan ahead, so there is a still moderately warm bath waiting for me. God bless Aiko and all she stands for. For this? I'll even carry her back to our room. Since, once again, she's decided "fuck it" and just curled up on the stack of towels. Doesn't even fit. She just shoved her upper body in the cubby and called it good.

I snort and step over her. Get my fuckin bath. Late night shifts are the worst. But we all take um. I focus on getting clean, grabbing my passed out lump of a roommate, and heading to bed. Fucker drools on me. Snorkels right in my ear. Takashi laughs silently as we pass him, hold the door for me. Seems to be heading out as we head in.

Master Iwamoto's shadow network never truely sleeps, after all.

Always someone doing something.

Dumping us both in our beds, I greatfully pass out. Do not dream. Greet near mid-day as my dawn, ready to start it all over again. Up, a quick bath, dressed and ready to go. Nothing to seem here but us identical servants. We go in shifts. All the better to be as disorienting as possible, to outsiders.

Everyone who looks like each other? Grouped on a shift. Taught to use make up to make themselves even MORE indistinguishable. We pick someone about in the middle, appearance wise, of each group, as the Standard. Everyone is to copy them. For my group, it's me.

I pick up the whispers and news, that have been collected since this mornings report. Second one of the day. At least, second one when we're not on "war" footing. As I walk, I glance down. Technically not supposed to read these, but I'm fairly sure he knows I do at least read the top page. Is amused by it. I'd have seen punishment otherwise. Or removed from delivery.

Oooh~ lookie THERE! How SCARY~☆! It appears someone was HAUNTED last night! By the ghosts of their dead brothers, you say? Angry ancestors, you say? Wife hysterical? Fled to her parents house? Sister, in tears, before the king? Oh my, oh my~!

I struggle not to grin. That would give the game away. Me? Reading something I'm not supposed too? I would NEVER. He he he~

Casually weaving through other servants, I keep reading. Climbing stairs and ducking down halls. Huh. Wait a second... slowing, I step to the side of the covered walkway. Re-read that last paragraph. Near the end of the page? Is something... strange. Not right.

I REMEMBER the Plot.

Made SURE I would remember. Wrote it down, then again and again. Memorized it, like my life literally depended on it, while it was still somewhat fresh in my mind. Because, frankly, it DID depend on it. Even now? Decades later? I can recite it by rote.

So why? Pray tell? Did our blushing Protagonist? Have a BROTHER.

Furthermore, why the FUCK have I not NOTICED this before?

Glancing around, I see far too many watchful eyes, to properly investigate. So I straighten. Pleasant, vague, expression in place. I walk forward. In no hurry at all. Definitely going to deliver these papers. Certainly not delaying in the slightest. Nothing to see here, everyone! Go about, what you were. We are all friends here, RIGHT?

I step into the building at the far end of the covered pathway. Resist diving into the first room available. That? Would be too predictable. I go for the THIRD. One quick grab, slide, and side-step? And~? Poof! Like I was never there. Servant? WHAT servant? These halls are EMPTY. You're clearly seeing things... are you okay?

Immediately, I lift the reports. Well, immediate after a look around the room, of course. Don't want to get CAUGHT. Flipping to the second page, I start reading. What's this about a Brother? What BROTHER?! There IS no BROTHER!

....except there IS.

Somehow.

And HE? Is a very, VERY clever man. One who lived quietly. Like a ghost. After the failed assassination attempt that nearly killed him and his mother. Wait a- ...failed? That sounds...? Familiar.

I have to close my eyes and think, to remember. Lean my head back and let my brain churn. It's... obscure. A tiny detail, mentioned offhand. Single line of dialog, in only one of the routes. Not even the MAIN routes. But one of the Secret ones, that you have to unlock... in the... collectors? Edition? I think? There was that play through video, right? We were eating... a noodle dish of some kind...

Fuck, I can't remember it. Not fully.

But I remember ENOUGH.

I REMEMBER? That it WASN'T a FAILED attempt. That Protagonist-chan's family didn't talk about them. For vaguely plot relevant reason. There was healing and good vibes. Follow your dreams, kids. Buy now. Etc etc...

He... survived? How? Damn it. Doesn't say. But... shit. He's cause a LOT of trouble, isn't he? And it looks like he's kind... railroading his sister into a specific route. That, or keeping her from emotionally cheating on her fiancée. Can't tell. Haven't met her. Looks like he's also patented a few... is that a fucking WHISK? Holy shit. These are all early industrial revolution!

Looking up from the reports, I stare blankly into space. Is... is the Protagonist's brother... ALSO a Reincarnator? What do I do with that? Do I contact him? Say "hello"? "I'm here too"? I thought I was... was completely alone in this world. But of all the places he could BE. Smack dap RIGHT in the middle of all the action?! Holy SHIT.

I'm going to have to think about this. A LOT.

Correcting the reports, I step back into the hallways. Casual as you please. Continue on my way, even as my mind churns and churns. Why is he gathering allies? Why hide for so long? Is he counting on his sister's plot armor to carry over? Or does he have actual military training? He's amassing loyalists. For WHAT?

And the reports said he's searching for something. Seem to suggest that WE are keeping it AWAY from him. What are we hiding? Protecting?

People? Resources? A mine?

I reached Master Nobutoshi's study, in his private wing. The halls quite, as only the most elite and trusted servants were allowed to travel here. Kneeling, I knocked on the door frame, waited to be acknowledged.

Receiving an almost absent-minded acknowledgement, I slide open the door.

Framed by delicately painted screen and thickly stuffed book shelves, Iwamoto Nobutoshi was, as always, the very picture of an elite scholar. Beautiful and refined. Slow and deliberate in movements, as though each had been pondered and found acceptable. I had never met a man more graceful. Not in this life, not in the last.

To my right, the sliding door to the gardens were open. Giving a picturesque view of summer, as it faded into fall. To the left, painted screens. Done by some Master's hand. With a splendid level of detail that still caught me off gaurd, even now. There were birds, in those painted trees! Had there always been? I wished I could look closer.

Nonetheless, I respectfully offered the reports for perusal.

"Right on time. This One had begun to worry." He said as he set aside his brush, smile mild as ever, even as his eyes swiftly cataloged each new discrepancy. There were several. "Bruises. Did the new padding in your suit, not sufficiently protect? This One will be most displeased if we have been lied too. We were promised it would."

No, and that was the thing, wasn't it? My kit? Had never been better. But... I had been damn near ambushed on my way TOO my job. Had to take evasive maneuvers. Do a LOT more parkour then I was comfortable with. Those fuckers had been... persistent. Weirdly so. Which made no sense, since they didn't seem affiliated with anyone I recognized.

"Oh?" The question was less a question and more a flat note of outrage. He held a hand out for the reports, began to read. "How... interesting. They certainly seem to be getting bold. This One begins to wonder. If he has perhaps been too kind, that they would see fit to harrass his-"

An ominous silence fills the room as he cuts off mid-sentence, as his eyes find something on the page he's reading. He has gone utterly still. The gentle curl of smoke from his pipe, wafting around him like the warning trails of a dragon. The deadly hidden embers of a forest fire, flaring up. His pleasant smile had frozen upon his face. Like a mask.

"He certainly does love to push his luck, does he? Make demands, for things he has no right too. Things which are ours." The words weren't even so much addressed to me? As the were a hissed accusation, towards the report in his hand. Someone, somewhere, seemed REALLY dead set on pissing Master Nobutoshi off.

Honestly? That seemed really unwise, but it's their funeral... I guess...?

Master Nobutoshi turns so suddenly I only barely avoid flinching. Jumping like a newbie. He's doing that "pick you apart at the seems" stare again. Looking into my soul. I remain politely deferential, patient, as I wait for him to work through his thoughts. He rises from his desk. Elegant and prowling, as he stalks towards me. Gaze intense, fixated. I... I am missing something.

"Tell me, my loyal little shadow. What would you do? If some... upstart, dared begin to covet, that which was yours? Started panting after your dearly beloved trusted, like a filthy dog? Trying to steal them away? Would you take that? Tolerate such disrespect? I... This One... can not imagine you would."

"You are so very loyal. So diligent. You serve me not for fame or glory, power nor wealth. You ask for so little, offer so much. I would give the world to you. My precious, loyal, little shadow. Forever by my side. No doubt, we shall grow old together. That they would covet you? The audacity is unthinkable."

Soft yet warrior calloused hands, come up to cup my cheeks. And... ah. Yeah. T-That's pretty fucking CLEAR on what I'm missing. My boss? Has a thing for me? Crush? Or... or is it "is in love with"? W-what was that about people coveting?! Hold on! Roll things back a second! What's happening?! I never thought I was blind... about apparently I need a stick and some GLASSES.

Because there is "missed some subtext" and then there's "dude, how do you miss the silent war with guerrilla tactics, right fucking IN FRONT OF YOU?!", so like? Either I was being DELIBERATELY kept seperate? Or... actually? No. That actually sound exactly like what probably happened. An information diet.

FUCK.

Before I could decide how, exactly, I felt about that? The same door I had entered through, opened again. This time sharply and with an audible snap. Dragging urgently along it's tracks and hitting its end, in a way the delicate crafting had never been meant for. I swear it nearly cracked. Alarmed, I spun, breaking free of Master Nobutoshi's hold on my face, to face whoever was at the door.

Aiko.

Shouldn't she be near the front gates? "Sweeping" and listening to gossip for the Shadows? How. Why!? My eyes catch on slowly spreading red. Stark against her... our uniform, she's hurt. Badly. Gripping her side and the door frame like it's the only thing still holding her up. Her face ashy pale and sweating with terrible pain. Eyes determined. Her jaw set in that stubborn, stubborn grit.

"Master. You need to leave. Now! They...!" She wavers, starting to blackout from the pain, before forcing it back. "They've attacked! We're holding them back. A-As best as we c..can! Please! Lord Iwamoto, I BEG you! You must go! If you don't survive this, then everything is lost!"

As if to underline the terrible wait of her words, an explosion goes off, shaking the austere foundations of the ancient house in which I serve. My mind immediately flits and races along the emergency protocols. W-was that one of ours? Did we..? No. No, we would have... DID set up barricades. This is our house. We've already trapped it.

They are the ones who brought explosives.

You don't bring things like those, if you plan to leave survivors. You bring those? When you plan to make EXAMPLES. Aiko is right. We have to go. Now. Heart hurting, I nod to my roommate, one of my best friends, and know that this is it. I will likely never see her again, alive. There are... so many goodbyes, words, I wish I had time to say.

In the look she shoots me? I see the same.

We knew this might come.

Just... just hoped it never would.

My boss's crush can wait. His LIFE is more important. I turn and reach for him, to guide him towards the screens, leading deeper into his wing. Get to him easily. But do not get more then two steps before an arm, like steel, is suddenly around my waist and jerking me back.

Jerking US back. Towards the wall of scrolls and decorative pieces, that sat behind Master Nobutoshi's desk. Startled, my gaze shoots down to see Master Nobutoshi's arm, unhesitating and possessive, wrapped around my waist. There is... a lot more muscle under those flowing robes, then I ever suspected. But-?

I do not even have time to think, to ponder, the question before it is violently answered. The masterfully painted screens, that I had long admired, smashing and tearing as bodies crash through them.

Takashi, dead on the floor, sword still in hand. Around him, his teammates dying, as they still tried to by their Lord even a few moments more, to escape. The large, ever polite Shadow, a man who had been like a brother to me... dumped upon the ground like little more then trash. To be tossed aside and discarded. Stepped over, on some other man's campaign.

His blood mixed with the ruins of the Hunting Tiger screen. Two proud, quietly noble wonders, destroyed. It had been his favorite.

Aiko howled with rage and grief. Threw herself into the fight.

We had been family.

I turned, away, hating myself for it. Knowing it's what they would want. Tears threatened but I could not let them come. Not... not yet. Not yet. There was an emergency exit. Where? Where!? I remembered it. I knew, I knew it! But the grief was muddling my mind, making it slow. Damn it. DAMN IT! WHERE WAS IT!!!??

Master Nobutoshi reached past me. Gripping the hilt of decorative sword, he lifted and drew. It.. it was not decorative. Merely disguised. A masterwork blade. It sang ominously as it cut through the air, entering the scene. Then... a face, breathe, pressed to the side of my head. Like.. like a lover? A terrible discordance, in this already awful event.

"Behind the Three Mountains and a Shrine, My Love. I will be with you shortly."

I froze. The world froze, for all it continued, around me. Distantly... I felt Master Nobutoshi loosen his grip, after... after one last possessive squeeze. Let go. Felt him turn away, as he faced the room. But... but that was... he.... he had....

W-was that? I-Informal? A..And WHAT did he call m-!?

My hand, shaking, found the right scroll. Somehow. Without my numb, panicking mind, they moved dispite me. Somehow determined to keep me alive, dispite my shock. I flicked the right switch. Disarmed the traps in the order they needed to be. And... click. There was the trap door. Our... our way out...

I stared. Blankly. W.. what was I supposed to..? Do?

Was I finally... in shock? That's... probably not good. Bad, actually. I should... should move. There are swords here. It's...? Dangerous? Yes. Dangerous. Bad. I need too... too think. Cry, maybe. Somewhere... not loud. With... with no... no swords.

Stumbling. Stiffly. Like my body was not my own anymore, I knelt. Hands clumsy and far away, I struggled with the trap door. Finally got it. People were... were fighting. Hurting. I... I didn't want to be here anymore. Didn't want to be ANYWHERE anymore. I... I wanted it to stop.

Why? Why wouldn't they all just... just STOP.

Aiko. Takashi. My teammates. Who else? Who else was hurt? G-gone? I was... was supposed to be SAFE. This was supposed to be SAFE. I worked so hard. Compromised and compromised, pushed myself down, and made myself fit. I worked and worked and WORKED, until I had nothing LEFT, b... because this was supposed to be SAFE!!!

I... I was supposed to b-be...!

"Iwamoto!" A voice roared above the chaos and fighting. "Where is She?! I know you're keeping her somewhere!"

Like a lions roar, some primal part of my brain demanded I pay attention. Now. Dragging, with brutal claws, my fragile mind, from its drifting cloud of numbness. One leg already on the steps to the escape tunnel, I turned, and... with horror? Realized I was to blame. For... for ALL of this.

Because? There, in armor, stood the Protagonist's brother. Surrounded by his men, with his sister safely at home, what other SHE could he POSSIBLY mean? If not the one? That ALSO remembers? H...He killed Aiko. Takashi. For THIS?

Monster.

Oh god, he.. he was a MONSTER.

Master Nobutoshi and the Reincarnator squared off. Swords drawn, men at their back. Already, so many were dead. So many I had known. Had worked with. My friends. Just... just pawns, between two powerful men. Dizzy, I realized, they... they hadn't even glanced at them. Didn't even seem to SEE them. Just... just more fodder. For their grand campaigns.

"You know?" Nobutoshi all but purred, as he clashed blades with his opponent. "I really must thank you. You helped me realize, the true worth of the gem I possessed. And, once you're dealt with? I will no longer need to hide her in obscurity. With you dead, little rat, I can finally have her, in every way that matters."

"She'll be a beautiful bride." His grin was a savage thing, full of baring teeth.

The Protagonist's brother raged. A lion, a mountain, and a warlord. Fury twisting what were, no doubt, handsome features into something horrifying. Blade work swift and brutal. How many of my friend's blood? Still painted that blade? Still stained his armor? He dressed himself like he thought he was the hero. He was destroying the only home I had known, for these past decades.

"Pervert! You disgusting CREEP! You think you can just imprison women until they love you?! I always knew there was something wrong with you, but this? This take the cake, you FREAK! I'm getting her out of here! Stopping your schemes! Once and for all!" The Brother roared, something unhinged in his eyes. A lifetime of isolation at last, too much, now that relief might finally be at hand. "You'll never understand her! You CAN'T understand her! Not like me! She was MADE FOR ME! We're supposed to be in this TOGETHER! And I WON'T let you keep me from her ANY LONGER, YOU FREAK!"

They couldn't see anyone but each other, as they fought. Brutal. Savage. Singing blades and madness. Around the room, the two sides clashed. Died. Pointlessly, at the command of their Lords. Sitting at the entrance to the escape route, I could see Aiko from here. Takashi. Both dead, gone, where just this morning we had been joking over our plans for an upcoming festival. We... we were going to hit up the candy booths first. Double back to store our loot. Then enjoy the festivities.

It was a good plan. I was going to pretend... that... that I didn't notice Aiko, stealing all the sour plum candies. I hated them. She loved them. But would never take them if I offered. O.. only fun if she could sneak um. Takashi would save me my favorites. Wasn't much of a sweets guy.

Gone...

All gone.

And for what? Because I "belonged" to the Brother? Because Master Nobu-...no. Because Iwamoto Nobutoshi, picked a FIGHT? All I wanted was to be safe. Live quietly. No plot. No drama. No chaos. Just... just market days and laundry, sweeping and helping make dumplings. Weeding the gardens. Napping with kids and cats. Slowness and the shifting of seasons.

A life, unremarkable.

I looked down into the escape tunnel. Dark, long, and to somewhere unknown.

They did not notice me leave.