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0luv9 · 3 months

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forlorn || mattheo riddle

Summary: based on this request.

Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.

Words: 7.8k (not beta read)

Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music

Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.

There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."

Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?

'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'

Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.

Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.

Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.

He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.

"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.

"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.

He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.

"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."

Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.

Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.

There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.

You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.

He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.

But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?

He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?

Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.

Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.

He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.

Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.

Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.

"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.

"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."

"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.

"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.

It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.

"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.

And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."

You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.

"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.

You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.

Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.

He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.

...

He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.

Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.

He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.

Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.

...

Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.

The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.

Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.

But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.

...

Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.

It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-

No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.

But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.

It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."

Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.

Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.

You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.

It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.

"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.

You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.

"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."

"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."

You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.

"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.

You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud.

You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that?

Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand.

Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in.

He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless.

He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile-

...

The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone.

Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone.

He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special-

...

Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think-

Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling.

The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed.

It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.

But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him.

Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath.

Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it.

...

Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.

He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less.

Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself.

Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good." He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming.

Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you.

He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to do this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?"

"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.

...

<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle

#mattheoxreader #matheo riddle #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x reader #matheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #oneshot #slytherin

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can-i-see-your-passport-please · 7 months

Text

Okay so here's everything I know about TF2. Please no one elaborate on anything I know about, because I think it's so much funnier if I have no context to anything. I have absorbed all of this through Tumblr osmosis

Emesis Blue is an excellent film

Soldier apparently was never an actual soldier, he just loves America and really wanted to kill Nazis (the second one i respect greatly)

Medic would probably give you a lobotomy for fun (i don't think this guy's even a doctor)

Two really old guys are fighting bloody wars over gravel I think and their father is named Grey Mann which was most definitely meant to make Gman enjoyers lose it but to be fair his name could also be Gary Man.

What am I on

Heavy and Medic are apparently gay but idk if this is a fandom seeing two men next to each other and going "gay" thing or a "all but confirmed gay" thing but TVTropes referred to them as "Heterosexual Life Partners" which is very funny

emesis blue is so fucking good oh my godddddd the respawn machine is horrifying just from the concept it turned scout into soup

Scout is half French and loves his mother (who is not french) and does not love his father (spy i think)

Medic presumably died went to hell and told the devil "oh I'm like a cat I have nine souls actually. So I should get to go back to being alive" and it fucking worked??????

THE FUCKING SCENE IN?? IN EMESIS BLUE??? WHERE. WHERE SOLDIER TELLS MEDIC "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT" AND MEDIC SAYS "i KNOW" BEFORE HE JUST FUCKING DIES AND HE'S THE PROTAGONIST SO YOU'D EXPECT HIM TO LIVE RIGHT??? AND THEN HE JUST DIES AND DOESN'T APPEAR AGAIN FOR SO SO LONG

Pyro is an any pronouns warrior and it commits great atrocities while also having so much sillyness in his heart. I love her

I think Engineer blowed up his arm. I think

Spy is a cunt and also French. I do not think this I know this. I look at him and I sense his cuntery. It radiates off him. I can feel it.

SOMETHING ABOUT THE LETTER M BEING BRANDED ONTO MEDIC'S FACE BEING A REFERENCE TO THE MOVIE SCOUT WAS WATCHING WHERE THE LETTER M IS USED TO MARK A MURDERER. HE'S LITERALLY MARKED AS A MURDERER BY PYRO. SOMETHING ABOUT THE SCENE WITH DEMOMAN AND DELL'S BAR BEING A REFERENCE TO A SCENE IN THE SHINING WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS LITERALLY TALKING TO A GHOST. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S MOTHER'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED PARALLELING PYRO'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S "IF THEY EVER HIT YOU WITH SOMETHING, YOU HIT BACK TWICE AS HARD" WITH MEDIC SHOOTING SPY TWICE IN THE HEAD AFTER BEING SHOT ONCE IN THE GAME OF RUSSIAN ROULETTE WHY IS EMESIS BLUE SO GOOD

TF2 is in an eternal war with Overwatch for some reason

I was doing a poll a few days ago and the tags psychic blasted me with the information of "by the way people pay like fifty dollars to see medic's tiddies in game." I have gotten varying answers between ninety dollars to three hundred fucking dollars but the constant remains that people will pay Valve comically high amounts of money to see Medic's boobs. What

Scout almost got Earth exploded because he died a virgin???? But then God was like "Okay go back down to earth I'm giving them one last chance to all have sex with you" I'm so confused what does any of this mean none of this makes any sense but it's hilarious

Scout might be legitimately named after Jerma and bears a frightening resemblance to him (though to be fair scout is every white boy in one)

You should watch Emesis Blue it's free on youtube

Demoman's eye is sentient even though he doesn't have it????

I can't decide who's my favorite the white boy the unethical scientist or the silly nonbiney war criminal

Conclusion: What the fuck is team fortress the second one about

#cassie rambles #please don't tell me what it's about it's so much funnier if i am confused forever #tf2 #emesis blue

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turtletaubwrites · 25 days

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 18

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 9508

Ao3 Link

Summary: Old friends reconnect, Buggy shows off his work, and you feel time moving by too fast. How can you enjoy the day when your world is falling apart?

Author's Note: This is the first chapter where I still think a lot of you will hate it, but I don't care as much because I'm super proud of it, lol. Although I realllyyy hope you like it!!! It's a rollercoaster 😵 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Biting, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-Pulling, Cunnilingus, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

“You know, I can’t help but be curious,” Shanks wondered aloud, taking a sip of black coffee. He smirked at you from the newly added table on the balcony, the single round one wasn't nearly large enough for the appetites, or the sheer space that all these pirates demanded.

“What’s that they say about cats,” Crocodile grumbled, tossing a napkin onto his empty plate before snagging the paper from Mihawk to flatten out on the table. He stared down at the page, giving the air of not caring whether the red headed guest lived or died, let alone replied.

Buggy floated his hand toward you from the second table. His body was so close to his old friend, but his smile was on you while he kept feeding you bits of fruit as he had all morning, his thumb rubbing over your lips when sweet juice would spill.

Crocodile and Mihawk said nothing about it.

But Shanks had too much to say.

“It just seems silly to me,” he continued, those brown eyes holding you in place, “that Miss Mystery Girl is keeping secrets from her lovers. Especially since they’ll be forced out of you after the party anyway. Why not share before then?”

“Leave her alone, shitbrain,” Buggy ordered, but there was no real bite in his voice.

Your mouth went dry, the Emperor’s prodding words had twisted at your growing anxiety, even dipped in that friendly charm.

He’s right. It’ll be worse if I wait.

“Aren’t all the party guests your friends, Y/N? Do they know your little secret?”

“I think that’s enough curiosity for the day, Shanks,” Mihawk drawled as he rested a hand on the hook that had started scraping across the table.

“No worries,” Shanks winked, letting out a relaxed sigh as he stretched his arm toward the morning sun. “Your sweet, little bunny is just so darn interesting.”

“And you’re so darn annoying,” Buggy mocked, earning a playful smile from Shanks’ lips when he met those pretty, brown eyes.

“Alright, President,” Crocodile cut in while the red haired pirate leaned his face closer to your clown. Buggy perked up at the title of his position as their figurehead, his eyes a bit wide as he looked away from Shanks’ gaze. The dreamy look on his old friend’s face didn’t fade when Crocodile went on. “I’d like for us to sit in on your rehearsal this evening. Party’s in two days, we need to know what to expect.”

“Uh, sure, boss,” Buggy straightened up. You smiled to yourself as you caught his gloved fingers tapping and walking up and down his own thigh. “Let’s do dinner and a show!”

“Lovely,” Mihawk said dryly, although his eyes lingered on Buggy longer than usual before looking toward you. “I’m sure our clown will be busy preparing. Why don’t you all join me for a walk?”

“Got your garden set up yet?”

“Not at all,” Mihawk sighed at Shanks’ question, looking up at Crocodile after the larger man had huffed a laugh.

“Too busy building a cat palace, and terrorizing your other pets?”

“I have many fulfilling hobbies,” Mihawk smirked back, before narrowing his eyes at the rest of you. You and Buggy looked away quickly, while Shanks beamed at them.

“Let’s have a tour then! I’d love to go play in the dirt,” Shanks laughed, his wicked eyes burning into you.

“Miss Y/N and I have some work to take care of,” Crocodile ordered, resting his arm across the back of your chair. If these men were slightly less terrifying, you might have laughed at their antics.

Shanks laughed for you, a low chuckle that sent shivers over your skin, still tingling after Mihawk led him away.

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

Shanks whistled softly, a comforting tune to keep his steps light as he followed his golden eyed friend outside this castle disguised as a circus tent.

That thought made his steps light.

Mihawk stayed silent, not a hint of lightness in his gait, except for his predator’s grace. He avoided glancing toward the source of that whistled tune he’d been humming lately until they were hidden away in the empty, walled garden, free from prying eyes.

“What exactly are you doing here, Red Hair?”

Shanks ignored the hidden threat under Mihawk’s bored voice as he chose one of the empty beds to inspect. Fisting into the soil, he let the dirt slip through his fingers, taking in the scent.

“Think you’ll be here long enough for grapes,” Shanks rasped, standing as he tilted his head toward the other man. He wiped his hand on his thigh, huffing a laugh when Mihawk frowned at the stain of dirt on his pants. “You never change, old friend. Wanna hose me down before we go back inside? I’d hate to dirty up your shiny, new dollhouse.”

Shanks was one of the only people in the world that could notice the shift in Mihawk’s expression, his face almost sinking deeper into that lazy mask.

“You’ll never match me with cutting words, Shanks, just like you’ll never best me with a sword,” he reasoned, an unexpected tightness in his chest that he discarded, letting his body be nothing but air in this charged moment. “I’d rather not stand here all–”

“Come on, you ol’ son of a gun,” Shanks laughed, stepping across an invisible line of comfort Mihawk had drawn, touching his shoulder. “Don’t be a sourpuss. I told you I could use a little vacation, and I–”

“And you saw Buggy’s poster,” Mihawk noted, brushing that dirty hand away to wipe the evidence off of his coat.

“You all looked real cute,” Shanks breathed, his eyes leaving heat as he dragged them down Mihawk’s skin. His lips parted into a cocky smile as he admired the column of Mihawk’s throat, and that chest covered in so many pretty scars. He smirked as he searched for some of his own making.

“So that’s all you’re here for, then,” Mihawk asked, slipping into stillness under Shanks' hungry gaze. “Just drinking, and fucking as usual? Or just to steal our clown away?”

His hand flexed just slightly. He hadn’t meant to say those words quite like that. And the shadow that grew across Shanks’ face confirmed that he should have reined that question in.

“Didn’t you used to call him my clown,” Shanks countered, gesturing to himself as he stepped even closer. “You know, back when you would give me shit for talking about him?”

“I…”

“Dracule Mihawk is speechless,” Shanks laughed, the sound jarring compared to the way laughter normally poured out of him. He stepped away, but only to pace in front of the swordsman, spitting words like daggers at his feet. “Always got something to say, except for now, huh? You’ve said so many things. Ooh, how about when you said I only liked my pathetic clown because of his powers, and that I’d be better off with a pretty, blue dildo? That’s definitely in my top ten. Or what about–”

“I’m sorry.”

Mihawk choked on those words, but he found himself in stillness for a different reason. A different danger.

Shanks stared, his mouth held open as if waiting to catch whatever word had been left forgotten from the shock.

“What,” he growled, watching those glittering eyes for any hint of a feint.

“I’m sorry,” Mihawk confessed again, realizing that it was true. “I didn’t plan on–”

“Didn’t plan on fucking your best friend’s ex,” Shanks fumed, voice echoing a bit in the walled garden. “Keeping my clown as a toy? Have you used him as a fucking dildo yet, or are you still pretending to care about anyone besides your fucking cats?”

Mihawk cringed, taking each blow like a sword across his flesh. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this affected by words.

Not words.

Guilt.

“I’m–”

“So how’d it happen then, old friend,” Shanks dared, anger still radiating off his skin, the air getting a little harder to breathe. “If you didn’t plan on it, did you just run around with your cock out until it landed in something?”

Mihawk tried to turn his surprised laugh into a cough, but Shanks’ eyes went manic at the sound.

“Who knew all my stoic friend needed to make him laugh was to fucking betray me. I can’t believe I’m surprised.”

“Shanks, wait–”

“Fuck off,” Shanks warned as he dodged Mihawk’s grasping hand, walking toward the exit.

“Crocodile was going to kill him,” Mihawk called, hoping his friend would stop moving since he couldn’t seem to start. Shanks slowed, stopping to look over his shoulder, silent and waiting. “I suggested we keep him alive as our figurehead. I knew how you… I wouldn’t let him die.”

They faced off as they had countless times before, taking in every detail, every movement the other made. Shanks caught what looked like pain in those golden eyes, and his jaw clenched at the sight.

“That’s a pretty low bar for a friendship.”

After a heavy pause, Mihawk lowered his predator’s eyes, nodding as he looked toward Shanks’ feet. The swordsman was truly speechless now, nothing coming through until he braved looking back up when his friend broke the silence.

“Are you gonna let me take him?”

“Of course,” he breathed, watching Shanks build up his walls again.

“What about Crocodile,” Shanks questioned. His lungs burned from it all, but his breathing slowed, still not sure what to feel about Mihawk’s words, about the emotion in those emotionless eyes.

“He will. We promised Y/N,” Mihawk rasped. Shanks furrowed his brows, about to ask for more, so he continued. “She doesn’t want us to force him to stay if he wants to go, and we’ll honor that.”

Shanks tilted his head back, a heavy sigh forced out of him. Mihawk tried again, but he knew that none of the words that flew through his mind would help this moment. This guilt.

“So it’s up to Buggy,” Shanks whispered before walking away, leaving Mihawk with his empty dirt.

~~~🔴🗡️🔴🗡️~~~

“Want me to drain the life out of him,” Crocodile grumbled as he opened the door to the lounge. True laughter let your lips now, and you took in a deep breath as you hugged his waist. The pleased hum that rumbled through him felt almost too comforting as he brushed your hair from your face. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Crocodile’s desk was comically large, and you wondered if he could hide a person in the bottom drawer. He stole your focus again, offering you a seat on his lap.

Work…

It was ridiculous how eager you were, how much you craved his attention.

“Top drawer, darlin,” he rasped, not reaching down to meet your lips as you leaned into him.

“Okay,” you blinked, stuck for a moment before you obeyed. The heavy wood slid open, revealing your notebook with all of your contacts, and their details. Your blood chilled when you set it on the desk, his voice taking too long to question you, leaving you in the discomfort.

“Do these people know your secret?”

Your body slumped at his question, his voice not cold or angry, but still not the way you wanted him to talk to you.

He’s never going to talk to me that way again. It’s over.

Heat built up in your throat as the grief and fear you’d been ignoring all this time crashed over you.

“Hey,” he soothed, guiding your weak body to sit on the desk, your feet dangling between his legs as he studied you. The back of his golden hook lifted your chin. That hook you knew you should still be afraid of, but instead made you sigh, savoring its cool touch.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, babydoll,” he urged, and his sweetness brought a tiny choked sob from your throat. Then the sweetness was replaced with a steady calm, a voice that could tip either way. “I promised you that you could tell us after, but I need your word, Y/N. Give me your word that your secret won’t cause any problems at the party. If you can’t do that–”

“I’ll tell you,” you gave in, tears already racing down your cheeks, sobs too heavy to swallow were ripped from you until he pulled you to him.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” Crocodile whispered, only making your cries more painful. He held you as you ruined his silk vest, falling to pieces in his arms.

“I don’t want it to be over,” you finally managed, hating yourself for crying, for thinking you could have this. You met his eyes, wanting to shrivel up, and disappear from the concern and questions they held. “Can I… can I please have one more day?”

His pause felt like more weight tied to your limbs, dragging you under.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, carrying you to the couch to stroke your hair, and call you pretty things while you tried to stuff all those tears back inside.

~~~~~~

Crocodile stayed with you, the bandage on his palm tickling your skin as he left soothing touches on your arms and back while you cleaned yourself up.

“How did you get hurt,” you choked, searching for anything that would get your mind off of it. “I thought you couldn’t…”

Regretting the question, you cowered under that frightening stare through the mirror.

“I have a secret too,” he rasped, his breath slowing as he stared through you. “Can I trust you, sweetheart? Since you’re sharing yours…”

“I—” you started, body humming, tingling with fear and something else from the intensity in that deep voice. “I promise. I’ll keep your secret.”

Crocodile leaned over you, enveloping you to turn on the faucet.

“Try to punch my hand, sweetheart.”

Questions filled you, but you obeyed, fascinated at the sight of his flesh turning to sand to avoid the blow. He reached lower, letting water rush over his fingers, coating the back of his hand.

“Again.”

No hesitation as you followed his addictive voice, you gasped as your fist connected with the center of his palm, punching straight into the center of the bandage.

“What—“

He went to his knees, turning you to face him, gripping your hand in his.

“Sand doesn’t flow when it’s wet,” he whispered, the dangers of what he was sharing sending chills through you. “I can’t protect you as well when liquid touches my skin. Remember that, sweetheart, but never speak of it.”

“Never,” you vowed, wanting to cry again from his trust in you. “I promise, daddy.”

~~~~~~

Your attempts to clean your grief away didn’t matter. Every other lover clocked the evidence in your eyes when lunch rolled around.

“Pretty star, you okay, baby?”

“I’ll be okay,” you probably lied, wondering if Crocodile would punish you if it never came true. Buggy wrapped his arms around you, trapping you in place as you caught Shanks’ gaze behind him. The crease between his brows could have been for anything, and you didn’t have the energy to guess what he was thinking.

“What happened,” Mihawk asked, an unfamiliar strain in that liquid voice as he sat you down beside him. He held your face, studying you so intensely it felt like your skin would go raw.

“Y/N’s going to tell us her secret tomorrow instead of after the party, but we can discuss that in the morning,” Crocodile ordered as leaned back to blow smoke away from the group. “Let’s enjoy the day, the next few are bound to be hectic.”

Avoiding so many eyes ruined any appetite you might have had, but you did accept a few more pieces of fruit from your clown, his eyes going soft when you smiled.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“How the fuck am I supposed to work like this,” Buggy snapped to no one in particular, pacing as he reviewed his plans, needing everything to be perfect.

All he could think about were Y/N’s red eyes.

And before he’d seen her like that, all he could think about was that stupid red hair.

He checked every light, barked at every musician until they were all in tune, and snapped at the kitchen staff to coordinate dinner with the show. The clown went over every single detail until a light sheen of sweat coated his skin, making his greasepaint too shiny under the stage lights.

Now and then, Buggy would remember that this wasn’t just a show. This was it.

His one chance to prove that he wasn’t a worthless piece of shit.

“Which idiot left this fucking table here,” he spat, focusing on anything else. Anything but the way his pretty star had seen him bleeding on the floor, useless to protect her. Anything but the tears she must have cried today. Anything but that thing he refused to think about.

Anything but that stupid red hair.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Shanks purred, lounging on a loveseat while he watched you twirl for Mihawk, still deciding what you should wear. “I think I’m–”

“An asshole,” you quipped, trying not to gloat as Crocodile’s pleased laughter floated through the suite. Mihawk just cleared his throat, fetching another dress.

“Jealous,” Shanks confessed, eyes shining with amusement even as his voice went serious. “I’ve been a jealous brat, and I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out for a long moment. The air was thick with the silence of the other men in the room.

“A jealous brat, and an asshole,” you finally teased, the air shifting again as if time had reset itself. “Don’t forget that part.”

A shocked, yet playful grin hit his parted lips, then his eyes trailed down your body until you shivered. It hadn’t felt strange to stand there in lingerie until this moment, until the subtle bite he gave to his bottom lip before meeting your eyes again.

“How could I forget, when I’ve got such a sweet little bunny to remind me?”

“Not yours,” Crocodile warned.

“Of course,” Shanks conceded with a nod toward the larger man, though he never stopped watching you.

Mihawk kissed your shoulder while he pulled you into another dress, and a bit of tension returned to your body as his silence continued. The instinctual fear that silence meant someone was mad at you made your stomach flip, but you couldn’t handle any more stress at the moment, so you shoved yet another feeling as far away as you could.

You were grateful that his hands still touched you, even though his wicked voice was absent.

Shanks hopped up from the couch, his informal attire switched out for slightly less informal attire that suited him well. Darker fabrics, with no trace of sand, made his skin gleam as he sauntered over to you. He took your hand gently, leaning down as he gave you that disarming smile you’d seen when he first walked into your world.

“Think you can forgive this jealous, bratty, asshole, Miss Y/N?,” he charmed, the force of it hitting you like a lovely ton of bricks.

“Maybe,” you managed, unable to hold onto that bite in your voice.

“I’ll take maybe,” he winked, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before Crocodile pulled your hand away.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he prodded before leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Let’s go see our clown.”

~~~~~~

“What do you think, rabbit,” Mihawk checked in, pulling your eyes from the stage. “Will those boring, wealthy clients of yours enjoy this little show?”

Buggy was tossing daggers at his empty wheel. There was no poor soul strapped on for a spin, so Buggy called out parts of the Marine’s symbol that was freshly painted across the wood, landing every shot. Performers and dancers took turns on the small stage, music and lights bringing everything to life.

You knew Buggy was nervous, but as soon as the spotlight touched him, he was in another world.

Your shining star.

He led the show before and during the lavish meal, until it would be time for him to hand over the reins, time to drain as many berries as possible from the guests. His speech was the perfect amount of charming and frightening that any of those guests would be craving for their little adventure, their little holiday getaway.

Crocodile grumbled when Buggy urged him and Mihawk to stand from their place at the long, head table beside you, shaking his head when the clown announced them as his “Executives.”

“And let’s give a round of applause for our Chief Financial Officer, the stunning and talented, Miss Y/N!”

Choking on a sip of wine, you caught Buggy’s exaggerated wink, your coughs turning to laughs as Mihawk pulled you to stand. You smiled at empty tables, pride followed by emptiness when you remembered your promise for tomorrow.

“Sorry we didn’t have time to find a promotion gift for you, sweetheart,” Crocodile rasped as he kissed your cheek.

“I have some ideas,” Mihawk purred, his breath teasing along your ear after he kissed your other cheek.

“Are you serious,” you laughed, your body tingling as Buggy’s head flew toward you, stealing a kiss. “I don’t need anything, this is…”

Shanks interrupted your almost tears, lifting his glass up with a shout.

“To Y/N! Buggy, can the band stick around for a bit? Your C.F.O. deserves a party!”

Buggy obeyed without a thought, and soon the air was filled with joyful music, your body starting to sway.

“May I have the first dance,” Shanks grinned, stepping around Mihawk to offer you his hand.

You could almost feel it as the bodies around you went stiff.

“I’m a terrible dancer,” you said softly, though you couldn’t stop swaying.

“Who cares,” the Emperor laughed, the infectious sound pulling you in. “Let’s go see how much fun we can have with three hands, and three left feet.”

Your hand was in his before you realized you’d moved, and he whisked you away. No one stopped you, and soon you were giggling too much to think about why they would.

“Are you this bad too, or are you just trying to make me feel better about myself?”

“You’ll have to keep dancing to find out,” he teased before grabbing your waist, pressing his hips against you. “Maybe we just need a different dance.”

Already breathless, you stopped breathing completely when he stared down at you, pressing his hand into your lower back. You swore you could feel his pulse against your skin as you swayed together.

“I love how happy he is,” Shanks whispered, guiding you closer to the stage, the music louder with every inch. “That’s your doing, isn’t it, bunny?”

Shanks’ eyes flicked back to you from over your shoulder, and he rotated your bodies so you could look for yourself. You’d already seen Buggy laying across the table in front of Crocodile and Mihawk, alternating between watching and cheering you on, and animatedly talking to his “Executives” about the show. Now you noticed Mihawk massaging Buggy’s disconnected hand the way he always does for you when you’re sitting beside him. A tentative warmth surged through your chest, even though Mihawk dropped Buggy’s hand when he caught you looking.

“You’re running from something, aren’t you?”

The heat in his almost silent voice, and the way he guided your body against his confused the icy fear that those words shot through you. You gasped, almost moaning when he flipped you around, his knees bent a bit as he rubbed against you from behind. His fingers dug into your hip with such strength and control that your body ached to feel them inside you right there on the dancefloor.

He leaned down, breathing against your ear, the music vibrating through you with so much force that you could barely hear him.

“There’s no better place to run than the sea. You can be free, Y/N, and we can make him happy together. We can live his dre–”

“Mind if I cut in?”

A voice as sharp as a blade chilled your blood, but Shanks didn’t let you go just yet. He hugged you to him, kissing your cheek, and you could feel a smile on his lips before he released you. His thumb rubbed over your fingers as he lifted your hand to place into Mihawk’s, who held his outstretched while he watched Shanks’ every move.

What happened? Why are they so–

“Hello, darling,” Mihawk purred, interrupting your thoughts as he pulled your body against his. You smiled up at him weakly, moving how his hands pushed and pulled.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

Shaking out of your daze, you blinked up into those golden, searching eyes.

“Noth–”

Fingers like daggers pressed into your back, pulling away in an instant, your gasp lasting longer than the pain. Those eyes were wide now as he scanned your face, and you held your breath.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words sounding strange, as if he’d just learned them. “I’d hate to tattle on you, rabbit. Although I must confess, I am morbidly curious to see what daddy does to liars.”

A nervous laugh left your throat, and he gave you a few moments to breathe as he guided your steps around the gleaming floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried,” you managed, knowing that wouldn’t be enough. His stare confirmed it, so you tried to find a way to hide without lying.

I can’t tell them. What if they’re angry? What if they fight, or kick him out? What if Buggy can't live his dream because of me?

What if I want to—

You shut down your thoughts, the sound of Buggy’s joyful voice pulling your eyes away.

“I’m worried about what’s gonna happen with…”

Mihawk followed your line of sight, catching the old lovers laughing. Shanks’ hand rested on Buggy’s thigh while he listened to the clown’s stories, the adoration on his face so vivid it was almost funny.

Almost funny, if not for the fact that the look on Buggy’s face was starting to match it more with each passing minute in the red haired pirate’s company.

“Is my old friend hurting you, love?”

Mihawk had stopped dancing you, tilting your chin up toward him.

“Only by existing,” you laughed, not sure if you were dizzy from dancing, or from the chaos of emotions that Shanks had made you feel since he’d invaded your life the day before.

“Come on, Miss C.F.O.” Shanks beamed. His eyes were obscured by Buggy’s extravagant hat, sitting askew on that pretty red hair. “It’s afterparty time!”

The two of them dragged you along, almost pulling you into your old suite before other hands pulled you back into the hallway.

“You wanna sleep in there again,” Crocodile asked, and you almost felt fear as his frustration with your guest had seemed to build and build. But all you had to do was tell him what you wanted.

“I do,” you breathed, going on tiptoes even though you’d never be able to reach his lips on your own. “Goodnight, daddy.”

His annoyed huff held a bit of satisfaction after your words, and you melted into the kiss he gave you.

“I’m right next door, sweet girl.”

Mihawk pulled you aside, and you waited for evil, filthy words as he pressed you against the wall of the corridor, everyone else already in their chosen suites. It was hard to tell on his bored face that he’d worn most of the day, but he seemed to be frowning at you as he ran his fingers through your hair before cradling your face.

He didn’t say anything for too long, until you flinched at the burst of laughter from the middle suite.

“You are not a pet.”

“W-what–”

“You are not a toy,” Mihawk continued, those whispered words sounding vicious, speeding your pulse. “Do you understand?”

You lied with a nod, not knowing what else to say to those burning, golden eyes.

“May I kiss you,” he breathed after staring at you some more. He tasted your lips as soon as you gave another nod.

“Mmn,” you moaned into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he kissed you with all that wicked passion you crave from him. His fingers curled into your hair, and he bit your lip before letting his tongue claim you again.

You were whimpering, whining now, gasping as he lifted you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you lost yourself as he growled against your lips, grinding himself against your core.

“Mihawk…”

His teeth were on your neck, biting deep, biting until your body tightened with need. That sharp, growing pain was its own pleasure, and you pulled at his soft, black hair until he moaned around your skin. Slick was smearing over his leather pants, your dress hiking up until your drenched cunt rubbed over the fabric, nothing but lace panties in the way.

“Always so greedy,” Shanks purred, leaning against the doorframe. His voice was light, a friendly tease, but the hallway felt sickeningly heavy, like gravity had increased, and you’d all be crushed to the floor.

Mihawk released your neck from his teeth, but pressed his forehead against the wall for a few seconds, leaving you to stare at Shanks, then Buggy over his shoulder, and then Crocodile who opened the other door to scowl at the scene. The swordsman lowered you gently, smoothing your dress into place, and whispering in your ear while he fixed your mussed hair.

“Just say my name,” he breathed before turning around, failing to fix his own mussed up hair.

“The little rabbit and I were just saying goodnight,” he brushed off, heading toward the door. “See you all in the morning.”

Everyone stared as he left, until Crocodile frowned at you. You gave a weak smile and a shrug, and he narrowed his eyes, but let Buggy pull you along.

Two doors shut, leaving that heavy air to fester in the corridor.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

“What the fuck was that about?”

Mihawk didn’t reply, refusing any thoughts until he had a glass of wine. Something to sip, something to hold, something to stare at.

“Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile growled, moving to loom over the man who’d just gulped down a glass of wine he’d normally savor before pouring another. “What happened? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the world’s greatest swordsman is throwing a tantrum.”

Mihawk barked a laugh, walking away from the larger man without looking up to meet his eyes.

“You may be right,” he said wistfully, wandering through the suite until he stopped at the heavy trunks they hadn’t finished unpacking. He lifted one of the lids, revealing the pile of fantasy books Crocodile had gifted Y/N.

Mihawk frowned at the colorful covers, thinking about his own gift. He’d remembered that she said she loved cats.

But he would have gotten Adam for himself anyway.

Crocodile’s body was on edge, waiting for danger as he observed the man before him. It was still Mihawk, still powerful, graceful, yet his usual faces of boredom or vicious glee were dulled, and Crocodile did not fucking like it.

Mihawk ran his fingers over one of the covers, tracing the shape of a dragon before he snatched the book up. He could feel the other man’s steely eyes as he plopped onto the loveseat by that connecting wall, a new one brought in since the scotch covered sofa had stunk up the whole suite.

Crocodile sat beside him, still watching, still waiting as Mihawk sipped his wine, and tried to read about dragons and heroes.

“Should I just guess what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

A brief exhale, and an almost smile left the man who turned a page he hadn’t read. Still, he put it all away. Put everything away.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you need, little bird.”

Golden eyes shot up toward Crocodile, as if he’d offered a threat instead of whatever those words were.

Crocodile bit his tongue, refusing to look away, and reveal the discomfort he felt as those words slipped past his better judgment.

Mihawk had never had a day like this. A day when sharp words wouldn’t leave his lips, when sharp blades could do nothing for him. A day filled with so much guilt it made him unsteady. There were plenty of guilty days to forget or regret, but this one felt violent, urgent, and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

What to do with Y/N.

The words, “Shanks is right,” played on a loop, until his mind was sick of everything but wine.

“I don’t like the silent treatment.”

There wasn’t real danger, Mihawk’s body didn’t register it. Yet Crocodile fisted his hair, yanking his neck back to expose his throat until that sharp point kissed it, cold metal ready to spill red.

Mihawk had dropped the book onto his lap, though never dropped a glass of precious wine, especially over his clothes. His lips parted, forgetting everything in his mind for just a moment as that scarred face lowered over his.

“Are you gonna tell daddy what’s wrong, or do I need to tear it out of you?”

The swordsman’s body went loose, his eyes rolling back as Crocodile pressed their cheeks together, rubbing along his skin as he breathed in the scent of him.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Crocodile released him, brushing his thumb over those pretty lips while Mihawk caught his breath. The satisfaction that pulsed through Crocodile at the other man’s fluttering eyes was intense, piercing, and he had to hold himself still.

Had to remind himself that he needed to know what the fuck was going on.

Mihawk hated how much he missed the touch of that hand when it was removed from his skin. Hated how needy, how fucking weak he was. Hated that no matter what he did, he would be betraying someone. Hated having to decide who it would be.

Hated the sick wish that he could stop caring again, that he could treat everything as meaningless.

That was how he ended up here in the first place.

Finally, he took another large swig of wine, choosing to side with the friend that would never forgive him. Even though he might lose everything.

“I have come to the unpleasant realization that I am a bad person,” Mihawk drawled, his voice almost perfect as he straightened up.

The deep, overwhelming laughter of the man beside him made him forget the world again, shock and annoyance pouring through him.

“I didn’t realize my existential crisis would be so amusing to–”

“Where do you think you are,” Crocodile choked out, still laughing as he wiped a bit of moisture from his eyes. He gestured to the suite, to himself, shaking his head. “Did you forget what this fucking Guild is for? We are all very bad people.”

Mihawk’s mouth hung slack for a moment, until his head fell back. Laughter, thick as honey, filled the air between them, until his hand grazed the book in his lap, tracing over that colorful dragon.

Crocodile couldn’t shake the feeling that the swordsman was holding things back. He wanted to pull until he got the whole truth, but there was something in Mihawk’s eyes that made him quiet, made him want to see the man with that wicked smile again first.

“Come on, little prince,” Crocodile soothed as he stood, holding out his hand. “Wanna show me what a bad person you are?”

A tiny version of that smile graced those lips, and Crocodile inhaled pride as he stared down at his little prince.

His breath caught at the thought, at all these dangerous, stupid, distracting thoughts.

“Thank you, daddy,” Mihawk purred, his voice breathy as he held himself under his mountain of guilt. “But I had hoped to rest and listen tonight, if that’s alright?”

Crocodile nodded, unease flooding his veins again. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing.

“How are they doing in there,” he asked softly, wanting to shake the man, but not wanting to push their new arrangement too far.

“Oh, they’re having a wonderful time,” Mihawk reported. The words that would have been tasty the night before were like ashes on his tongue, and he went to pour himself another glass so he could stomach listening.

Mihawk just brought the bottle with him, drowning while he listened to Shanks steal away both of his shiny new toys.

Hoping that Crocodile wouldn’t hate him for letting it happen.

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

“Afterparty,” Buggy yelled, pressing that sexy music tone dial before floating you through the air. Giggling, you reached for him, pulling his hair loose to flow around you both.

“You were amazing, Bugs,” you grinned, the tension of the hallway forgotten when he looked at you.

“Of course I was,” he agreed, making you gasp when he connected with his lower body to press you onto the bed. His weight was such a perfect relief from every worried thought you wanted to burn.

Shanks sat on the corner of the bed, but Buggy distracted you, kissing across your face, your chest, humming until you squirmed beneath him. He went still, his face hovering above yours with one of your favorite smiles. Soft and sweet, his crystal blue eyes dancing over your features as if needing to catch every slight movement, every piece of you.

“Bug–”

“You’re my shining star, Y/N,” he confessed, a reverent tone in his voice that made you shake your head, twisting under him.

“I thought you were the shining star,” you purred, struggling as he trapped your arms, holding your body down. “You’re the shining star of the show, and I’m the pretty star by your side, helping you shine.”

Buggy’s eyes looked down as he quirked his fading red lips, and your cheerful tease felt wrong. Anxiety started to fill you until he met your eyes again. He kissed you slowly, deep and thorough, savoring every bit of you until you whimpered, then you tasted his smile before he pulled back.��

“You’re my shining star, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your cheeks before kissing your puckered lips. “You’re my everything.”

Joy was everywhere as Buggy kissed your lips, then down your neck and shoulders, both of you laughing as you pulled him to you.

You went cold when you remembered what the morning held, desperate to hang onto this feeling for as long as you could. Your head relaxed to the side as you tried to breathe out those thoughts, and you found Shanks observing you. You felt bare before him, like he could see through every uncomfortable feeling you tried to shove down.

“She’s your star, huh, Buggy,” he purred, trailing his hand through Buggy’s hair until he stopped kissing your neck to look at the red haired man.

“Of course she is,” Buggy bragged, tracing a gloved finger around your face. “Just look at her.”

His name left your lips in nothing more than a whimper, and you loved the way it made him straighten, his chin raising slightly as if your voice could lift him up.

“I watched you feeding her fruit all day,” Shanks’ voice shifted, moving his hand down Buggy’s arm to his wrist before pulling those gloved fingers up to kiss his knuckles. “You were getting her ready for me, weren’t you? Want me to taste your shining star? Make her scream for you?”

Buggy lifted off of you, sitting back on his heels. His hungry eyes looked back and forth between you and his old friend, and you knew it was true.

“Mm, I knew it,” Shanks rasped, now pulling your hand up for a kiss, staring heat into your skin. “Buggy wants me to taste you. Can I please taste you, little bunny?”

The weight of both of their stares tore you free from the world. You had to say yes.

“Please.”

“Such a good girl,” Shanks praised, moving between your legs as Buggy helped you out of your dress, your bra, stopping there when Shanks reached out. “Hold on, friend. These are too pretty to get rid of so soon.”

He followed that order by pressing his hand down over the top of your thigh, and rubbing his thumb up and down over your lace covered clit.

“Please,” you gasped, back arching when Buggy pinned your wrists. He sat behind your head, facing Shanks across your body, and you could see his breathing shift while he stared at the other man.

“Bunny’s being so polite,” Shanks taunted, his voice laced with danger that had your heart racing, “but if you don’t tell me what you’re begging for, I’ll just have to guess.”

He emphasized his threat by pressing his thumb into your desperate, clothed cunt, the lace panties straining under the pressure of his touch.

“Please, taste me,” you choked out, catching Buggy’s face above you as he scraped his lip though his teeth.

“My pleasure,” Shanks teased, tugging that fabric down your hips until Buggy’s hands floated down to help. “You know what she likes. Gonna teach me, Buggy?”

“Fuck,” Buggy breathed whiled he watched Shanks setting himself up between your legs. “Fuck yeah. Kiss her clit first, Shanks. Lick and suck her like candy.”

“Anything you say, Bugs,” Shanks agreed, pressing that charming mouth to your core, and your mind couldn’t decide which name to moan, mixing sounds together. “Gods, she’s so sweet for me, Buggy.”

“Quit talking, and make my girl come,” Buggy demanded, grinning at you when his words made you moan. He kept giving Shanks commands, until you were shaking, and those brown eyes stared up at you with so much focus, it made you dizzy before you screamed, coming all over that charming face.

“Pretty bunny,” Shanks hummed as he moved up your body. He kissed the taste of you into your mouth before leaning toward Buggy. They kissed above you, the sight making your whine.

“Looks like she needs some more attention," Shanks whispered at Buggy, until they both smirked down at you. “Wanna teach me how to finger your pretty girl now? I bet you know her pretty pussy so well, huh? Know just how to make her scream?”

“Buggy…”

“You hear that, star,” Buggy bragged, kissing along your ear. “I’m gonna do a magic trick. Make you come without even touching my pretty girl. You want that, baby?”

“Yes, ple–”

“Shove two fingers inside her right now,” he ordered, and you cried out when his words came true. “Spread her out. You feel that perfect cunt, Shanks?”

“Fuck, yes, Buggy,” Shanks rasped while he scissored those fingers inside you, spreading and feeling around, exploring. “She feels–”

“Wreck her. Make her scream,” Buggy growled.

Buggy sent one hand to trap both of yours, and pressed the other down on your lower stomach. You glanced down just in time to see the spark in Shanks’ eyes when Buggy commanded him, and then his fingers were so fucking deep.

“You heard him, bunny,” Shanks taunted, a wicked laugh as his strong fingers fucked you until you forgot your name. “You gonna scream for him now, or do I need to shove my whole fist into this sweet, little pussy?”

“Fuck,” you moaned, then screamed as his fingers curled inside you, his thumb attacking your clit. Buggy laughed before kissing you, inhaling your screams until you twitched all the way through that pleasure, twitched until it was too much.

“Bugs, did we kill your star,” Shanks teased in mock horror, lifting and dropping your limp arm.

“Nuh uh, my baby can go all night, huh,” Buggy praised, kissing your cheek while you tried, and failed to move. “She just needs a little break.”

“Breaks are nice,” the red haired pirate hummed. He laid next to you, trailing his hand along your body, and you sighed as Buggy laid on your other side. Their bodies, their voices, their heat, everything helped. Everything was good.

“I know you like to watch,” Shanks rasped, speaking to Buggy before directing his voice, and his wicked gaze to you. “But how about you, Y/N? Do you like to watch your shining star?”

“I–”

“Yeah, she does,” Buggy bragged, interrupting you before kissing your cheek. “You got in soo much trouble. Remember, baby? You couldn’t take your eyes off of me and Mihawk.”

You almost missed it when your eyes fluttered at the memory, but Shanks’ jaw clenched at Buggy’s playful words, his fingers pressing into your skin for a moment.

“Do you wanna watch us, bunny? Watch me make your shining star feel good?”

Shanks’ request sounded light, sounded like fun, but you felt it. You felt the pain in him, and you watched him blink and move his eyes around, trying to hide it. He failed, those brown eyes heavy on yours until you smiled.

“I wanna watch.”

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

Y/N’s voice was so sweet, so sweet when she said those words.

And now Shanks was crawling over him, and Buggy stopped thinking.

This couldn’t be real.

Shanks stared down at his old friend, his old lover, wanting to kiss Y/N again for giving consent. For giving permission for this moment right now.

“Can I make you scream now, Bugs,” Shanks asked, tracing his fingers around Buggy’s face, his jaw.

“You can try,” Buggy taunted back, but his hands had already flown away to grab a towel and lube, dropping them in front of Shanks with a grin.

“Come here,” the red head growled, lunging forward to grab that beautiful blue hair. Kissing Buggy almost hurt from how unreal it felt. Years and years poured into each other, and Shanks straddled his old friend, uselessly pinning one of his wrists above his head.

Dizzy.

So fucking dizzy.

Buggy knew he hadn’t drank enough tonight to feel like this. His gloved hands were shaking as they ran over Shanks’ bare skin beneath his loose shirt, and he couldn’t think clearly. Every time he almost had a thought, a hungry noise from his old friend’s throat would make him frantic.

“Can I help you out of these,” Shanks purred, his eyes sparkling with old laughter as he sat back to grab one of Buggy’s hands.

Buggy’s eyes flicked to Y/N, and her gorgeous smile made everything alright.

“Mhm,” Buggy nodded as he tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth. Shanks did the same with the other hand, biting down, and pulling at the fabric.

“There’s my Bugs,” he breathed, kissing those bare fingers. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

A hint of ice flashed across Buggy’s face, and though the clown caught and killed it, giving a smile to cover it up, Shanks felt that ice slide down into his gut.

“I’m—“

“Don’t you have something you’re supposed to be doing right now, shithead,” Buggy stopped him with a laugh, tracing along his waistband. “Or are you here to break more promises?”

“Take your clothes off, clown,” Shanks ordered, heat and happiness in his voice. The two of them stood, almost stumbling off the bed with a laugh while their hands searched and freed each other's bodies. Buggy turned to do a silly strip tease for Y/N, earning another beautiful smile as she bit her lip.

Buggy almost leapt for her, but strong fingers fisted into his hair again, pulling him into another chaotic kiss.

“Lie on your back. I wanna see your face when you make all those pretty noises for me.”

Shanks’ whispered command burned along his skin, making Buggy’s knees weak. Shanks used that opening to shove him onto the bed, finding his way between those thighs. The red haired pirate sat back on his heels as he watched Buggy’s chest heaving, his body already writhing. Smeared red lips, and sparkling, hungry eyes made the breath catch in his throat.

This moment was frozen, crystallized in Shanks’ mind. A moment of elation and gratitude, shot through with grief that it would be the last. He swallowed that fear, refusing to believe it.

Refusing to lose him again.

“Well,” Buggy prodded, breathless as he gave an impatient face.

“Lube,” Shanks smirked as he held out his hand. Buggy’s floating hands filled his palm, then dropped the bottle as Shanks grabbed Buggy’s swollen cock instead of his own. “Couldn’t resist. You’ve got the prettiest clown dick I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck yo–” Buggy started, his words cut off by his own gasping moan when Shanks massaged a lubed finger around his asshole before pushing it inside him, slowly adding another.

“Don’t worry, Bugs,” Shanks taunted as he watched Buggy’s face go desperate. “Help me get ready, I’ll give you what you need.”

The clown sent his hands to rub lube onto that veiny cock, just the touch of it making his eyes roll back. Thoughts kept trying to roll in now, to ruin this, but he shoved everything away. Right now their bodies were together, their bodies were taking pleasure, giving pleasure, and it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but those soft, and dangerous eyes.

No more words. No more teasing.

Buggy held his thighs aside easily, all that circus flexibility having so many benefits, and helped Shanks line himself up. The touch of him, barely any pressure yet, was too much, not enough.

Shanks caught Buggy’s eyes as he sank into him inch by inch. He didn’t have to say it. Buggy kept those eyes on his, and Shanks felt the pleasure of watching Buggy fight not to break eye contact. The look of frantic, painful need on his clown’s face felt even better than that perfect tight pressure around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good, Buggy,” Shanks praised, falling forward onto his hand so he could be closer while he started to move, to fuck, to make Buggy moan. He was thrusting harder, more desperate with every breath. “How’s that feel, baby? Needed my cock, didn’t you?”

“Fuck, ye– fuck, please.”

“Please,” Shanks purred, slowing to smile down, noticing the matching sheens of sweat on their skin. “I want you, Buggy. I want you inside me right–”

Buggy’s cock floated out from between their bodies, his hands going so fast as he lubed himself up, then shoved fingers into Shanks ass while he laughed and moaned, still fucking into him.

“Oh gods, yes,” Shanks breathed, pausing his movements while Buggy started filling him, taking him, fucking him. Shanks' eyes rolled white, throwing his head back as he started his rhythm again.

Nothing could compare to this.

Not when he looked down into those perfect eyes, tears forming at the corners while his moans got louder with every rough thrust. Not when he lost himself inside Buggy’s body, while Buggy took and gave it all to him too.

“Come inside me, Buggy, I need to feel you,” Shanks begged as his body fell apart, almost there, but not wanting it to end. “Gods, I missed you so fucking much, baby.”

“Shanks…” Buggy whined, feeling the insane moment of pleasure when they came inside each other, the heat and force of their come bringing wild, needy moans from their throats.

Dripping with sweat now, they relearned how to breathe, still twitching inside each other. Buggy started to move, but Shanks dropped from his hand to his elbow beside Buggy’s head, pausing to look at him before he lowered his sweaty face down, kissing those faded red lips.

Neither had any thoughts in that moment. They finally won that battle in their minds, that battle to enjoy this moment for what it was. Whatever it was.

That kiss was the only thing in the world.

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

You weren’t breathing. You had no idea when you’d stopped, or if you’d ever start again. You might die on the edge of that bed, suffocating without ever making a sound.

They wouldn’t even notice I died.

Bile rose up your throat at that hateful thought.

It didn’t make sense. You felt so fucking selfish, so disgusting. What gave you the right to feel jealous? After everything Buggy went through, everything you put him through…

They still haven’t noticed me.

Entitled. Stupid. Ungrateful bitch.

So many words and emotions flew through your mind, the speed and chaos of them only making your nausea worse. Anger, jealousy, self pity.

You fought to keep your face neutral in case they remembered you were there, but your lip quivered, replaying every beautiful fucking moment.

They love each other so much.

Swallowing a sob, you dug your nails into your palms.

I can’t have love. I can never have love.

All you wanted to do was disappear.

“How’s my star,” Buggy asked, his voice shaky as he pulled away from his lover.

“Beautiful, that’s how,” Shanks praised, mirroring Buggy as they moved in to kiss your cheeks.

Liar. I’m a liar.

Your practiced smile, your fake happiness that was trained into you since childhood lifted your lips, and you filled your eyes with as much of the truth as you could. You were happy for them.

Part of you was, at least.

Yawning instead of speaking, you let Buggy kiss you, giggling as he carried you to the shower. You felt lost, empty, trapped in an echoey room, only vaguely aware of the world outside.

Buggy laid you on the soft carpet while they struggled to change the sheets, laughter, and insults, and deep, heated kisses kept interrupting their task until you wanted to scream.

I just want to disappear.

“Mihawk,” you breathed, hoping he could hear you over their laughter and moans as Shanks kissed along Buggy’s neck.

“May I come in?”

The room froze at the knock, and the cold voice on the other side of the door. The lovers stepped away from each other before Buggy sent his hand to the doorknob.

“What is it,” Shanks asked, his own voice drained of all the mirth it had held tonight.

“Sir Crocodile,” Mihawk cleared his throat before his eyes found yours. “He’s tired of sleeping without his sweet girl. Would you mind, darling? You know how cranky he gets.”

“O-okay…”

Buggy came to your side, helping you up since your wobbly limbs didn’t seem to work anymore.

“Thank you,” Shanks breathed into your ear before Buggy carried you to your golden eyed lover. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

His sweet words brought back the bile in your throat, and you thought you might explode if you had to hold up that performative happiness any longer.

Get me out of here.

“Goodnight, my shining star,” Buggy hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple before placing you in Mihawk’s arms. He smiled at you, but didn’t wait for you to say anything in return before closing the door.

“Shh,” Mihawk soothed, almost silent while you started to shake in his arms.

It was just a few steps to the other door, which flew open as Crocodile stood waiting, anger radiating off of him.

“What the fuck happened? Get out of my–”

“They didn’t hurt her, Crocodile,” Mihawk sighed, walking into the room, and softly kicking the door shut behind him. “At least not on purpose. You’re okay, right, love?”

You were gone now, everything was foggy, and nothing mattered. It was nice.

“Why do you smell like four different wines?”

Both of them paused before Crocodile sat on the edge of the bed, deep, belly laughs filling the air. Mihawk looked half annoyed, and half pleased, eyes dancing over your face.

“Five actually, but I’m impressed. My lovely, little bloodhound,” he purred as he laid you in the center of that giant bed. Stroking your hair, he whispered the words that finally broke you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It was a silent, choked nothing at first, your body almost heaving as it tried to fight. Heat built and rolled through your throat until burning tears finally fell, and it felt like the bile would soon follow.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Crocodile calmed, sliding in beside you until they both touched your skin, both watched you struggle to breath around tears that made you sick. “Tell me what you need, Y/N. Anything for my sweet girl.”

You almost begged for them to make the night end, but knew the morning would bring fresh, new pain. Your last night before it was over, and you spent it twitching with pathetic, quiet sobs, unable to ask these men for help. Their comfort only made it worse, and after tomorrow, they would never look at you this way again.

Would they still care if you cried? Would they use you just like everyone else?

Would they send you back?

They held you now as you lived in this torture of a night you needed to end, and a morning you needed to never begin.

Somehow sleep ripped you from the world, shoving you back onto stormy seas. You hung on for dear life, waiting for that voice to call your name.

That voice didn’t call tonight.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: Writing this chapter was such a blast! Helped me through a tough week, and pushed me to write outside of my comfort zone. I would be eternally grateful if you tell me how you felt about the drama! I've been going nuts holding all this in 😅 Also, sorry about the big pile of emotions!! 😭

Part 19

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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erensonly · 3 months

Note

You know how ghost always has his mask on, what would be reader reaction seeing ghosts face for the first time but in a way she doesn't know its him and she goes like "who the fuck is that??? 🤨🤨🤨🤨"

🍒anon

butcher shop buddies (simon riley x reader)

i dont know why i laughed so hard at this. thanks for the ask!! oh can i call you cherry-berry anon?

warnings: fluff, ooc ghost, not proofread sorry, use of 'pretty' and 'cute', no use of pronouns but i may use them in future parts, dad joke, probably incorrect butcher information, i was hungry writing this.

please feel free to message me and let me know if i missed any warnings

----

maybe reader is a civvie and she frequents this one particular butcher shop so you can get meat packages for cheap. this is the first time you see ghost. he's standing in front of the case of meats trying to determine which cut of steak he wanted, while you were there seeing if the people on tiktok were serious about meat packages being cheap. groceries are getting too expensive and you wanted to try your hand at birria tacos.

while taking a look around, you didn't notice the larger man inching closer to you. "d'ya know which cut you're looking for?" naturally, you flinch an take a step back. what is this mammoth of a man doing bending down to your level to help you look for meat? but his accent is silly but pleasing to listen to, so you give him a vague answer. "kinda," you say with a shrug.

"i heard they do these packages of meats that can last me a while. and i've been craving birria tacos, so i need beef for that as well." he silently just leads you to the other side of the case and starts talking to the man standing there. it's like they've known each other for a while. you tune them out to make sure you have everything else checked off of your mental grocery list. when you tune back in, the butcher is slicing some meats up and the man was still standing there.

"thank you so much for your help." this was directed at both men, but only the butcher responded with a "you're welcome" while the other man just nodded at you, before taking his purchase and leaving the store. what a strange man.

this is how you guys started to see each other at least once a month at the same butcher shop/supermarket. he had introduced himself to you as ghost before telling you that you could call him simon. he was actually a kinda funny guy. easy to misunderstand his jokes if you dwell on it too long, but also easy to laugh at if you share the same sense of dry humor. he didn't have much to say at first, cracking jokes at the wrong times, but other than that, there was nothing else for him to say.

i feel like ghost doesn't stop yapping around people that he's comfortable with. like he talks about everything and nothing at the same time. this is how you came to find out that he was in the military, he has family but they're the men from his task force, he travels for work often, and knows every dad joke to ever exist. he's a simple man.

he thrives on routine and familiarity. he makes it a habit to meet you once or twice a month at the shops, go grab a coffee -tea for him- and have a good conversation before going about his day. you ask for his number so you can communicate with him outside of your mini meet-ups and he agrees. now you send whatever meme made you laugh that day and a picture of what you were doing, and he sends you a joke of the day and picture of what he was doing.

he liked getting your cute selfies showing your outfit of the day, or the puzzle you finally completed after losing a piece a month ago, or his personal favorite pictures of you cuddled up with your cat pawl.

i feel like simon is a dog person outwardly, but he didn't realize how much he actually liked cats because he never had one growing up. so seeing you all cozy and pretty with your cat trying to escape your kiss, simon felt like he finally had something to look forward to. now he wanted you to see him for him.

when you walk into the shop, you're expecting simon to be waiting at the counter like he always did, chatting it up with his butcher friend. but instead, you see a blonde man with a black medical mask on talking to the butcher. maybe he's just late.

you walk to your normal spot to wait when the man turns to you and speaks. "how ya doin' today, love?" it startled you. who is this man and why is his voice familiar and why is he so attractive. "who the hell are you?" you couldn't help the confusion on your face; why is he talking to you. he just laughs and laughs, obviously finding your confusion hilarious.

"what did baby corn say to mama corn?" you were more confused. who's baby and mama corn? "go on," you encourage.

"where's pop corn?" this set you off. laughing louder than you probably should. "simon, how are you, darling?" you both had endearing names for each other even though you were just friends. it just came naturally.

"hungry. wanna stop at this one diner i know? they have amazing burgers."

that's how you find yourself eating a cheeseburger with simon who has taken his mask off by now. he was a very attractive man, not that you doubted it before. sharp square shaped jawline, crooked nose from being broken too many times, beautiful honey brown eyes contrasted by his long blonde lashes. he had a mole on the side of his nose, and scars on his face but they only added to his ruggedness; his attractiveness.. it didn't help that he was 6"4 with big strong arms, nice sized pecs, and on the rare occasion he would send you a mirror selfie without a hoodie on, you could see through his shirt that he had a nice soft belly. (my personal favorite build)

you were glad he was comfortable enough with you to be willingly vulnerable with you. maybe this relationship could escalate so much more.

----

should i make more parts to this? i already have a few ideas.

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indiasthoughts · 2 months

Text

"Can you roll my window up?"

---------

aka- , eren, and xiao, x black readers turn on this trend

---------

warnings;;

suggestive, but no smut, x black reader, ,, use of the n word , fluff, she/her/hers pronouns, lowkey toxic relationships, SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN!!!!

---------

authors note: ik this is such a silly contrast aot and genshin but i been craving all both men sooo😮‍💨

and for reference--

︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Ps: this is old work but i desperately need smth to post so mind the cornyness pls 🙈

୨⎯ Eren ⎯୧

Inside of the 6'3 mans black BMW M4 was a beautiful girl in his passengers seat, annoyed and frustrated.

see- this girl had a few things that annoyed her that he knew of yet still did when she rode in someones car.

one- rolling her window down and leaving her cold in her black skims dress. two- playing music she's not fond of at the moment, if she's in a brent faiyaz mood why play warren g? and three- not listening to what she had to say.

so when her boyfriend, Eren, of three months did all three at the same time frustration ng came crashing down

"Eren, baby, please roll my window up.", rubbing her arms to create any sort of warmth.

- and to no avail, ignored.

"babe..."

- ignored.

she furrowed her eyebrows and turnt the music down to a volume of 2.

"Can you roll my window up?!"

"No, ur attitude ruining my vibe bro"

As "2SEATER" By tyler the creator started playing, he turned the volume up, but not as high as he had it before, out of the slightest bit of respect.

"Who the fuck is your bro?"

"Ma what I told you about swearing?"

She reached over to his side, unbuckling the seatbelt as her boyfriend stopped at a red light. she pressed the passengers window button and rolled her window up.

"Now the music aint hitting from all angles!!"

"Imma hit you from all angles."

He once again put the windows down.

"Whos car this is?"

"Who sitting here?"

"Ion know what you have an attitude for..."

"Oh my god."

she leaned into her seat, embracing the cold she'd have to deal with for the next 15 minutes.

about another minute passed, and Eren was already tired of the awkward atmosphere.

"Baby im sorry"

"mhm.."

he held a small frown as he pulled up into a empty parking spot .

Tyler spoke in the background- 'the fuck you turn my music down for?'

"mamas it's us" he said with the widest grin he could possibly hold.

'can you roll my window up?'

you lip synced to the girl's parts.

'Why? damn.'

as he would too.

"Cause it's windy." You audibly spoke this time.

"But I love it when your hair blows."

as the beat dropped, he reached in and gave you a kiss.

ewww this was so sickenlybsweet ugh me and who🤢🤢

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

୨⎯ Xiao ⎯୧

you and your boyfriend, Xiao had been lying down in his bedroom, while you played with his cat on his lap, he did his homework. There was a specific way he liked to have his room, cold. whether it's the ac blasting on days where the cold was too much too have his windows open, or open windows, on the warmer days. Today happened to be one of the warmer days. And despite the baggy sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and one of his sweaters, his room was still too cold for you. As much as you cuddles up with Astro, the cat, and your boyfriend, it was still unbearable.

"Xiao, lets close the windows please.."

"I won't be able to concentrate."

he furrowed his eyebrows and said that with in the sturnest way he could.

"I'm gonna head into the living room then"

You grabbed the cat, and as quick as one leg came down, it came back up.

He played a faveorite playlist of his, when "2SEATER" came first.

"Sit back down pretty?" more of a question than a command.

"Damnn nigga it's cold!"

"m'sorry, stay wimme ok?"

He turned the volume up and held your waist, bringing his lips to your neck and nibbling your neck.

You knit your brows together, feeling a gush of cold air, and flinched softly. Taking his phone that was connected to his JBL speaker, and lowering it.

"Can you roll the windows up?"

"Whyd you turn the music down"

he puts it back on, lowly chuckling at the perfect timing on the song.

"Can you roll it up?"

"Why?, damn"

"Because it's!-"

You slowly realise the timing on the song and this mini arguement.

"But i love it when your hair blows.."

As he finally removed his lips from your neck, and tilting your neck to crane your head and meet his lips.

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master-xochimilli · 8 months

Text

◇ About + DNI ◇

Currently: Offline (Not answeing dms!!! Very slowly answering asks!!! I <3 being mentally ill!!! /s)

Asks closed !!! Inbox is way too fucking full lmao

Welcome to my blog~ My name is Xochimilli, though I'm sure some of you would be eager to call me Master or Sir

A 21 year old switchy vers genderqueer boygirl cat thing, It/He pronouns (yes capitalized :3)

My asks and dms are closed, because I'm a silly socially burnt out bitch

If you cannot handle different time zones and the fact others have work and responsibilities don't even bother. Asks will not be answered right away, please take situation/time sensitive asks with a grain of salt.

Time Zone: GMT -6 • Mexico City

♡ Pet

My pet is the lovely @onetiredpup, or 🫀 puppy who I lovee and adore so so soooo much 💛 THE BOYFRIEND YIPPPEE YAYY HOORAYY :3 💛💛💛💛💛 A A AAAAAA AA AAAAAAA KISSING HIM KISSING HER HUGGING THEM SO TIGHTLY

◇Anon Pets◇

•🪐 • 🩻 • 🦇 • 🪲 • 🐻 • 🐼 • ⚰️ • 🌱 • doe • 🧜‍♀️ • 🫧 • 🌻 • 👑 • 🦦 • 🌌 • 🥺 • 🤍 • 🐾 • 🍰 • 🍑 • 🪣 • 👑🖤 • 🍊 • 🍤 • 🐈‍⬛ • 🪷 • 🐞 • 🐬 • 🌟 • 🏩 • ✴️

◇ DNI ◇

Minors and ageless blogs fuck off, I will block you.

Typical DNI, dont be a bitch to others. Raceplay, and ED blogs also dni, for personal reasons, I can and will block anyone I want to, this is my safe space.

I also just reccomend not to interact if you just want the horny!!! I will rb anything n everything I want <3

◇ Kinks ◇ Limits under cut ◇

Kinks◇

Petplay

Impact play

Soft Degradation + Praise

Bondage

Piss/Omo

Somno

Breeding

Pregnancy

Edging + Cum Denial

Free Use

CNC (emphasis on the consent)

Sub/Dom

Knifeplay

Intox (only alcohol)

Biting/Marking

Primal

Royalty play

Lactation/Milking

Blood

Cockwarming

Objectum

Pain/Physical Injury

Possesiveness

Forcemasc

Monsterfucking

Gore (will not post about it)

Cannibalism (will not post about it)

Limits◇

Apart from what is included in the DNI, do not offer to include these. I either don't enjoy them personally or can't do/write for them !!!

Use of the word "rape" in cnc (literally a fucking victim of it, me panicking and having flashbacks about over it will not be fun so stfu!!!)

Scat

Inflation

Raceplay

Brat taming (I am too soft for it)

Vomit

Cheating

AB/DL

Hypno

Sissy

Weight gain/Loss + Feederism

Subby Xochi shit->

Some stuff about when I'm subby because holy shit a lot of similar asks about me being a subby kitty recently lmao, keep in mind I am very much soft when in a sub mindset

Kinks

Petplay (kitty maybeee bunny), incredibly soft degradation, lots of praise, piss, somno, breeding, pregnancy, edging/cum denial, free use, alcohol intox, biting/marking, royalty play (i just wanna be a princess whose cared for), laction/milking, cockwarming, possesiveness, forcemasc, mommy/daddy

Terms I use

I literally don't give a shit what words you use for my body but I do enjoy enjoy having my general hole and cock area called princess parts and kitty parts when subby lol also my clit is my cock but like, my cock is my clit yknow?

My gender is cool, call me a good girl or princess, along with most masc terms!!! Kitty words also get my mind all WOAHS

Ummm, aaaa aa aaaaa fuck I don't know just writing about how I liked being refered to as "kitty" and "princess" gets me blushing LMAOOOO I am just babie fr, I literally cry when I cum,,, I just like being cared for and given sooo much attention and kind of spoiled and babied with lotssss of praise and words of affection,,, im dom for the horny but subby for the being cared for lmao,,, being subby lets me not worry about anything but being good so yayayayaaaa get me to just relax for once

Oki that's it, also if you are going to try to dom me, nice try but you'll probably fucking fail LMAOO I am so mentally ill I feel guilty subbing sometimes,,, also I probably need to feel hella safe with you because damn I get so emotional,,, okay that's it lol

My puppy's good boy chart ♡

Good boy chart for my lovely puppyyyyy, my sweet boyfriend @onetiredpup 💛 So so sooo excited for using it with him !!!! Will update it as they get stickers :3 so everyone can see what a good boy she is~

based off @/droolypupboy's chart !!!!

◇ More:

I am literally just queer, in gender and sexuality, I am just a queer fuck !!!! My gender is just I am God, because I fucking am God. Because someone asked: I am kind of pretty sure I am monoamorous, I will engange in sexual play but no romantic stuff :3 -> have a boyfriebd. I have a boyfriend. Did I mention I have a boyfriend? I have a boyfriend and I love him I love my boyfriend with my whole being 💛 My boyfriend my beloved kissing her face right now actually because I love them and my blog is kinda obviously all about him lmao

Mostly a top dom, but really a nice switch vers at heart and would love switching it up if a person came along and put me in place like the soft kitty I am

Will be referred to as sir and master. Only my puppy darling can call me daddy.

All pet/master, d/s relations are for fun but I feel very strongly and I will care about you and probably count you as a close friend :3

Autistic and ADHD, and mentally ill, and chronically pained– Age regressor will always log out before regressing. Also a full time worker, don't fret if I don't answer right away~

Living in CDMX, long periods of silence are usually due to getting stuck in traffic or power outages, or when regressing.

◇Xochi is a real person I am not horny all the time lmao

A part time librarian! Head of the children's section of the library I work at, love taking care of kids and helping them get interested in reading. Also part time English teacher! Really just doing things I like nowdays~

I'm a pretty big softie at heart, expert crybaby, expert emotion feeler, expert at caring too much. I am also good at being dumb and laughing too much at stupid shit :3

I like stuff apart from masturbating and getting others horny~ Like drawing, Sky: Children of the Light, Sanrio (My Melody my beloved ♡), Percy Jackson, Artemis Fowl, Pretty Cure, plushies and cooking to name a few things I like, so don't be afraid to just talk about my interests! I'm not scary I promise :]

Understanding and open, don't like me being too rough? Go ahead and tell me— Will gladly compliment and comfort you, don't be shy! Also be a sweetheart and tell me if you get excited hm?

◇ Tags ◇

#xochimilli writes -> Orignal text posts

#xochimilli answers◇ -> Answering asks

#xochimilli comfort ->Only comfort more sfw

#xochimilli speaks ->Me bitching about stuff

#xochi is the breeding bitch -> Bottom/Sub POV writings

#important◇ -> important shit lmao

#☆lynn no mires☆ ->irl Xochi, audios and pictures

♡

#🫀puppy-> For my love, my bf, my sweetheart, the one who fills my whole heart and my sunshine :3 ♡

#🫀💛 -> reblogs that make me think of them ♡

☆

♱𝖋𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖔𝖙♱ <- matchy matchy for my bestie my beloved HOLAAA SEÑOR GACHA AAAAAAA

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certifiedwhore4slashers · 1 year

Text

Death Follows

pairing(s): dark!harry potter x reader, ron x hermione

summary: harry, your best friend, has been acting odd lately, very odd, deciding on one occasion to follow him, leads to your demise.

warnings: obsession, yandere, implied murder, blood, manipulation(slightly), perverted behavior(not from Harry), possessive!harry, toxicity, etc…

reader is pretty much gender neutral since I don’t describe any feminine pronouns or masculine pronouns, or feminity.

also this au has been in my mind a little bit lately lol. obviously everyone is 18+ in this. keep that in mind. dark themes ahead.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were so worried for Harry. He was your best friend and nonetheless, something obviously was going on with him.

“Y/n, calm down, Ron said.”You’ve been worried this whole week.” “Look, haven’t any of you noticed that he is well, distant? Doesn’t tell us much? You ask. “I have but, maybe he’s going through stuff and coping with the whole dark lord thing, having to defeat him is a lot, Hermione pointed out.

“True, You say.”I guess. But, I still-“ Ron groaned, you couldn’t help but form a smile as it was kind of funny.”I’ll shut up now, Ron. At least about Harry.”

“Good, Ron replied, wrapping his arms around Hermione, they had been dating for four months now. You couldn’t be more happier for them.

“Where are you going? hermione asks. “Nowhere! You lie. Hermione rolls her eyes. “He said not to talk about it anymore! You say, outsmarting Ron.’

You walk a bit louder than you should have. At Hogwarts, Quietness was rare, and noise was frequent. Also a lot of chaos.

“Where is he? You murmur, trying to find Harry. You were so in love with him you’d be willing to do anything for him.

Sure, this could be because of the amount of pressure he has to stop Voldemort. But there had to have been something else.

Harry, was a introvert indeed, but this bad and distant? That didn’t seem like himself. When you spot him, You secretly follow. Maybe this was stalking or out of pure obsession, you weren’t obsessed with him, just in love, that was all.

You only followed his footsteps as you went to see where he went. Maybe you shouldn’t have. After all, curiosity kills the cat. But this was out of concern for your best friend, who you’ve grown up with pretty much.

You were doing the right thing weren’t you? Harry suddenly turns around and you hide. You almost had been caught. Almost. You were scared of what would happen if you were caught by Harry. Especially since he was more aggressive. That wasn’t like him. This whole situation was odd itself.

You probably would find that it wasn’t as concerning as you thought it was, or completely different to the scenario in your mind. You hoped it wasn’t the scenario you pictured in your mind.

Calm down, you’re overthinking, You thought. And yet, I feel drawn to this whole thing. What’s wrong with me? Am I truly becoming obsessed?

You were more than filled with self doubt, but you prioritized helping Harry with whatever he needed. Of course, only if it was good. Not if his intentions were corrupt.

You weren’t like that at all. And when you finally stopped where Harry stopped, but hiding a bit further so he didn’t see you, you didn’t find anything interesting, much to your dismay but relief as well.

You chuckle softly, for a moment you thought he was working with Voldemort. How silly of you to think such things.

You begin walking back to your dormitory, it should’ve been a short and swift walk, if you didn’t bump into someone.

“I’m so sorry, You apologize. “Don’t be, He winks, and in a suggestive tone. Already, making you feel uncomfortable.”Where did you come from?”

“Um, I was just looking for my friend, couldn’t find him, You lied. “What a shame, The ravenclaw said. You would’ve been surprised if it had a hufflepuff.

Truthfully, Every house had bad people in it. “I better get going…. You say. “I recognize you, He says.”Y/N right? The chosen one’s friend?” He said that as if you were more than that. Which you weren’t, unfortunately.

“Yes, now can I get through? You ask, a bit more sternly and assertive. You weren’t going to get out of this mess unless you did something. And you normally didn’t like doing that. You hated confrontation.

“Oh sure thing, can I walk you to your dorm? He asks. “Sure, I guess, You say nervously. He says his name and you say yours. As awkward as it is, maybe the feeling of someone actually being into you was nice.

Though, you knew his motives were anything but nice. Still, you’d never let it take that far. “Here is my dorm, You smile.”I hope I see… you around.” “You definitely will, He winks, leaving you to your dorm.

It wasn’t a good way either. He’d probably ask you out on a date eventually. “y/n, what did you find? Hermione asks. “Not much, You say.”But, before you say I told you so, I know he is hiding something.”

She sighed.”You are too in love to think logically, Y/N.” You scoff.”I’m not in love with him! I found someone!”

“You did? Both Ron and Hermione say in unison. The common room was empty somehow, making things better.

“Mhm, that ravenclaw guy or something, said his name was Bastian or something.”

Hermione groaned.”Y/n, he’s an asshole who’s only using you for sex!” “I know, and I’m not letting him use me, U just met him, doesn’t mean anything, You defended.

“Thank god, Hermione said. “I heard he’s hot though, Ron said. “Not the point, You say. Ron laughed and so did you.

“Ron, you have something to say? You joke. Hermione looks over, smirking. Ron blushed.”I’m not gay! I love ‘Mione!”

“Cute nickname, Hermione smiled, sitting beside him. “To be fair, he didn’t come up with it first, You smiled.

You looked proud and smug, as you had come up with it in Year 1. Hermione loved it and it stuck ever since. Though, it was a nickname only her closest friends, you, Ron(her boyfriend now), and Harry.

It got darker, and by the time you were in bed, you hear noises coming from the Common Room. So, much to your curiosity, you go downstairs to the common room. Relieved, You say,”Merlin, Harry, I thought you were something else.”

“No, just me, Harry said calmly.”You thought I was Voldemort or something?” “No, you laughed.”You came in really late. Won’t you get some sleep?”

“I’m not that tired, Harry assured you.”You don’t have to worry about me, Y/N.” “I think I do, You tease.”You need someone to look after you, Harry.”

He smiles.”Always putting everyone’s needs over your own, typical of you.” “It’s kind of how you are, You say.”Selfless, caring…” He sighed, plopping himself down on the couch.

“Harry, I’m worried for you, okay? You say, sitting beside him.”What’s going on?” “It’s nothing, he says. That’s a lie, you knew.

“Harry, I know that’s a lie, You say.”And…” you stop, looking down to see blood all over his clothes. You stand up.”Harry, what did you do?”

Confused, He asked,”What do you mean?” “Did you fall or something? Hurt yourself? You’ve got blood all over, You say nervously, about to pull your wand out when Harry took action quicker.”Expelliarmus!”

He disarmed tour wand, making you taken aback. Why did he do that? You weren’t a threat by any means. Pulling out your wand he probably assumed you’d hurt him or something.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I… I’m just a bit scared, okay? I need my wand to-“

He grabs it before you do. His demeanor, you just knew changed. “I’m not giving it back until I can trust you, Harry said sternly.

“God, you sound like my father, give it back! You say, reaching out for it but not succeeding.”And what makes me untrustworthy?”

“The fact you’re questioning me, and immediately go to your wand! Harry said. “Shh! They can hear you! You say, when he grabs your wrist, making you jump.

“You really want to know? He asks, his tone angrier than you’ve ever heard from him. You nodded nervously, more so afraid. This side of him you’ve never seen before.

Pulling you closer to him, Harry whispers in your ear,”I killed that creep.” “No… You say.”He wasn’t a creep. And how did you know?”

“I knew you followed me, and I saw it, Harry added.”I’m not as stupid as you might think, y/n.” “Okay, then what were you doing? You ask.”I know you’re hiding something, Harry.”

“Feeling bold, aren’t you?”

“Maybe, You reply, your voice filled with venom and a bit more confidence as you spoke. You never felt so confident in your life. But you had to hide your fear and intimidation of Harry.

“Alright then, Harry smirked.”I didn’t exactly lie about defeating Voldemort.” “Okay… You say. “I already killed him, he continues.”Which that makes me the new Dark Lord.”

“What? You say.”Okay, Maybe your trauma made you-“ His hand was wrapped around your throat, not choking you but he could.”I’d rather you keep your mouth shut about this.”

You somehow whimper and nodded. He lets go.”Good.” “I have a feeling there was more to murdering that ravenclaw, You whisper.

“The fact is, you’re mine, and I just made sure he knew, Harry said possessively. This side of him scared you.

“What are you going to do as the Dark Lord?”

“Destroy those who wronged me and the people I love, obviously.”

#harry potter x reader #yandere harry potter #dark!harry #dark!harry potter #yandere #yandere x reader #tw obsession #tw yandere #ronmione #harry potter au

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mediocrevideopodcast · 2 months

Note

First I need you to know I absolutely love the way you write rocky! He feels so in character!

Second I saw requests are open so speaking of rocky: imagine if reader was a wealthy client who helps fund the speakeasy but they're only really there for rocky

like everyone else thinks it's pretty obvious they're into him but I imagine rocky would be clueless lol

(can be neutral or fem pronouns, whichever you prefer :) )

A/N: Thank you so much! I'm always worried that I'm a little too heavy-handed with his speech patterns, so I'm glad that it comes off right! And wow, I loved this idea so much! I got a little bit carried away with this it, actually -- never let it be said that I don't love this silly cat. Buckle in friends, it's gonna be a long one -- 3.4k, to be exact. Thank you all for all of the lovely asks and reblogs thus far -- because as much as I love writing, it's all of you that keep that fire burning when times get rough. Enjoy!

Content Warnings: None! Gender neutral reader, no pronouns or presentation indicators used.

Deafening raindrops turn into quiet pitter patters as you descend the long, spiraling staircase into the speakeasy. Comforting and familiar walls lift your spirits from the dreary outside world, caked in gloomy clouds and ever-growing smog. You wipe your boots on the doormat as you reach the bottom of the stairs, frowning a little when you notice just how far the mud splashed up the leather.

What a shame -- you'll have to clean them off when you get home tonight. Lord knows how your coworkers love to gossip, and with how calm things have been lately, they're just itching for something to discuss. Like how the head doctor has mud on their evening boots… after a heavy rain. How scandalous.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the gentle voice of the doorman, peering over at you with a hint of concern -- Horatio, you think his name was? Sweet boy.

"Is everything alright, Doctor?"

You tear your eyes away from your shoes, smiling kindly.

"Of course," you chirp, "Just a bit of mud. Do be careful when you head out tonight. That suit looks nice on you, I'm sure you wouldn't want it getting dirty."

He straightens his posture at the compliment, adjusting his cufflinks with an endearing -- if not a little overenthusiastic -- nod. Content, you smooth out your outfit and move forward once again. You stride through the door, flashing your pin for formality's sake, and slink into the main room with a neatly contained excitement of your own.

Red satin curtains line the wall, contrasting beautifully with the natural grey stone -- the Lackadaisy speakeasy has a unique atmosphere, and despite having seen it no less than a hundred times, it never ceases to light a twinge of admiration within you. You weave between the towering stone pillars, letting your eyes rake across the room as you pad towards the bar. But… something is missing. Or, more aptly, someone.

The barstool squeaks in protest when you plop down at the bar, brows furrowed. Although before you're allowed to stew in your disappointment, a drink is placed in front of you. You look up, meeting eyes with the tall cat in front of you. Victor Vasko, resident bartender, for lack of a better word. He glowers down at you, although you know him well enough by now -- it's hard to be intimidated when you know his scowl is all but carved into his face.

You're also acutely aware that you're one of the last benefactors of St. Louis' finest speakeasy.

You slide a ten across the bar -- more than enough to cover drinks for the night, if not everyone else's too -- before swirling the drink in your glass. The amber liquid dances just shy of the rim before settling back down against the ice -- it's liquid gold in these parts, and they call it that for more reasons than one. You don't miss the subtle widening of Victor's eyes as he pockets the money and moves to the other end of the bar, presumably to clean -- or more aptly, shatter -- a handful of glasses.

Sweetness cascades over your tongue when you raise the glass to your lips -- it's a far cry from the common coffin varnish. That is to say, it's a luxury reserved only for new patrons… and those with deep pockets. You smile to yourself, savoring the taste. It's not the greatest drink in the world. Even a priest could tell you that. It's bitter, and burns in a way that tells you that its creator would really prefer to put the "fire" in firewater over anything else… and yet you couldn't fathom going anywhere else. It's not like you're aiming to get drunk here, anyways.

"So," Zib drawls, lumbering onto the bar stool next to you, "What's a man gotta do to get a drink around here?"

You huff a laugh into the glass, rolling your eyes. "Sorry, I only buy drinks for pretty boys."

He leans forward onto the bartop, leaning his head on his arms and gazing at you. His eyes are half-lidded, pupils lazily tracking your glass as you raise it to your lips. It's hard to tell if he's just tired, or if he's already gotten a headstart on drinking tonight. You'd put money on the "all of the above" option, if you could.

"I can bat my eyelashes if you want," he says. "Jesus Christ, shut up," you laugh, swatting at him but waving down Victor nonetheless. He stomps over, rolling his one visible eye, but acquiesces and pours him a drink at your soft smile. It's clearly a cheaper alcohol, but Zib doesn't seem to mind. He seems to prefer it, if anything. He takes a strong drink, sighing at the burn. He pulls himself up from his crossed arms, leaning back with a groan.

"Thank God, I don't know enough violin to pull anything else off. Or Shakespeare."

"Hey!" You sputter, kicking his leg beneath the countertop, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing." He hums, pausing. Sips. Tilts the glass. "Just that you seem to have a favorite here, no shame in that. Other than the fact that you've chosen the strangest man in all of St. Louis to set your sights on."

"Excuse me, for one, I don't play favorites. And two, he is-- he isn't…" Swirling the liquid around in your own glass, you furrow your brow. When nothing comes to mind you take a sip of your own, thinking.

You know well enough that your protests are just for show at this point. It's become a near-daily point of banter between the two of you, considering how obvious you are in your affections. Many moons have come and gone since Wick showed you the Lackadaisy, but unlike the astral body, your interest in Rocky Rickaby has never waned.

It's hard to remember what kickstarted your affections for him -- maybe it was his natural lyricism, or perhaps his flair for theatrics. Maybe it was his unwavering spirit, or his penchant for getting into trouble. If you asked Wick, you're sure he'd tell you that you were simply attracted to the danger he brings with him, but he's never seen the way his eyes sparkle when he's excited. He's never seen the way he glows when he's truly happy -- not like you do, anyways. Maybe it was a combination of all of those things and more. What you do know is that…

"He's got his own charm. He's different, yes, but I like different. But again," you say, looking at him over the rim of your glass, "I don't play favorites."

Zib chuckles, shaking his head, but says nothing. You wait one breath, then two.

Silence.

You scoff, muttering to yourself. "Set my sights on… You make it sound like I'm picking out a dog at the pound."

He grins, and you sense that you've fallen directly into his trap. Damn it.

"He'd bark if you asked him to."

"Oh, you reprobate," you exclaim, laugh tinging the edges of your words. You swat at him once again, this time making contact. You'd like to say he choked on his drink, or sputtered at your attack, but this has become such a song and dance that really, you'd be more surprised if he didn't expect it. "You're incorrigible, you know."

"Just being honest," he says.

You shake your head, sipping lazily at your glass before slipping back into easy conversation. It's nice to simply chat the hours away with him -- despite his dour outward demeanor, he's quite good at keeping a conversation going. His taste in literature doesn't hurt much, either, nor does your own affability towards his own theatrics. For as much shit as he gives Rocky, he isn't all too much better in the drama department.

You weren't always treated so casually -- the memory of Mitzi all but batting Zib and Rocky away from you still brings a smile to your face. Hell, you're sure if Mitzi heard the dreary remarks falling from Zib now, she'd pick up the broomstick again… if only for her own sanity. But once it became clear that you'd sunk your claws into their best -- and up until recently, only -- rumrunner, the air changed.

You don't have to guess why -- everyone's been plenty clear about it.

'If Rocky hasn't driven you away yet, there's not much anyone else can do to scare you off.'

You cast a look over your shoulder every now and again, glancing at the door, aflutter with anticipation. It's impossible to hear the rain this far down into the cave system, although it's unlikely that the rain has let up at all considering the torrential downpour you weathered just a few short hours ago. You nervously bite at your lips, forcing your head back into the conversation.

'It's just the storm holding him up,' you tell yourself.

You vaguely realize that somewhere along the way your simple affection and interest has bloomed into something more all-consuming, and you can only hope that Zib doesn't catch your sudden fluster. Best to file that thought away for later.

-----

It's half past midnight when Rocky waltzes through those towering wooden doors, caked damn-near head to toe in mud. His suit seems to have taken the brunt of it, although the drying flakes embedded in his fur and the single symmetrical pair of clean streaks along his lapel tell a story all on their own. He clasps two bottles in his hands, mysteriously absent of any dirt or grime.

Calvin is hot on his heels too, pupils pinpointed with what you assume are the remnants of adrenaline. He too comes through the door with bottles of what you presume is liquor, although he certainly has an… abundance compared to Rocky. Because for Rocky's two, Calvin anxiously clutches no less than eight bottles to his chest. He practically waddles through the door, more out of fear than exertion. He, however, is almost entirely clean of grime… save for his pant legs, which are all but drenched.

Once Calvin is past the doorway Ivy comes skipping through too, hands wrapped around her own pair of bottles. Her wardrobe seems to be in slightly worse condition than Calvin's. Mud dapples her sweater, and the twigs tangled in her fur so abundant that you could probably call her a fire risk. But she seems joyful nonetheless as prances past Calvin and falls in line right behind Rocky in his march towards the bar. You realize in the back of your mind that she's chatting happily with Calvin behind her, although the words turn to water in your mind as you gaze at Rocky. If he's noticed you yet, he gives no indication. His tail, slicked thin with muck, flicks happily behind him. Small drops of mud hit the stone floor, causing Calvin to flinch back and clutch the bottles tighter to his chest. There must be a story there, you think to yourself.

You huff out a laugh -- partially out of amusement, and partially out of relief. You'll have to ask for the story of tonight's escapade later on.

"Praise be to the rain, protector of your ever faithful moonlight servants," Rocky finally reaches the other end of the bar, placing the bottles down with a thunk. He spins, his back towards you as he casts a hand in the air with a flourish. The smile that stretches across your face is painfully lovesick, if the way Zib nudges you gives you any indication, but you pay him no mind as you lean forward to watch the show.

"For such modern ventures, we need no stream to wrench forth our gold from the Earth, dearest raindrops. Rather, it is you, oh dearest clouds who bring us such prosperity, such joy. It is--" he spins back towards you, locking eyes. He stiffens, blinking owlishly. A moment passes before his eyes sparkle in that perfect way you've come to adore, fangs peeking beneath his lips as his expression changes into a grin, and then a beam.

"You," he moves across the floor towards you, stretching his arms out for a moment before realizing his state of dress and letting his arms fall back at his sides. His tongue darts between his lips, practically buzzing with excitement as he pads towards you.

(You briefly catch the shocked looks of his, quite literal, partners in crime. Eyes wide, the two look at each other inquisitively, then at him, then back at one another. Clearly they're shocked at his willingness to drop his monologue, and the feeling is mutual. It makes the smile stretch further across your face, and you realize that if he hadn't silently retracted the offer, you would have accepted the hug, velvet be damned.)

You spin your stool to face him, pushing your drink to the side with a wave in his direction. And it should be illegal for anyone to be so damn cute, because the way he lights up -- at your acknowledgement? At your excitement to see him? -- sends a hot flush through your cheeks that has you melting from the inside out. Up close you realize that despite (somewhat) clearing himself of mud, he wasn't able to keep entirely dry from the rain. Water drips down his nose, and you fight back the obnoxiously domestic thought of drying his fur for him. Tender looks and loving touches, of hands carding through fur… It's soon replaced by the vision of him toweling off himself, and Christ, something so mundane shouldn't be so damn attractive. That too, you tuck away for later.

He stops at your feet, eyes crinkled with mirth.

"I didn't think you'd still be here," he says, leaning against the bar countertop. Although he quickly notices the muddy stain he's left, and while he does pull back to attempt to clean it… it's not like there's much clean real-estate left on his suit to wipe with. You giggle -- honest to god, giggle -- at his antics, and just like that his attention is pulled back to you. He leans back against the countertop, resting his face against his hand. It squishes his cheek with a boyish charm, ears flicking towards your voice. It's cute. He's cute.

"Well, I wouldn't want to miss my favorite…" Heat rises to your face at your own use of the word 'favorite.' Zib will never let you live this one down.

"...Musician."

Said cat snickers behind you, and oh yeah, you really aren't living this one down. It takes a lot of willpower not to shove him off the barstool then and there. But Rocky simply waves his free hand at him before turning it upwards, fingers splayed. It's clear that he's attempting to be casual in his body language, but the energy in his voice and barely hidden beam ousts his joy at your praise.

"Pay him no heed, dearest muse. Now, what form of entertainment would you desire tonight? Pick a key, any key! Through spoken word or melodic strings--"

Any other night you'd be enraptured with his rambling, but tonight you seem to get lost in his words. Your eyes rake across his face, taking in the little details that make him, him. You're only a little ashamed at the way your eyes keep darting to his lips while he speaks -- truthfully, you're more embarrassed at the longing it sparks within you. Maybe you should have taken the time to unpack this earlier, but alas. You force your eyes upwards, taking in how his own bright blue ones shine with excitement, before letting them fall once again.

And Rocky is nothing if not unique. The bridge of his nose tells stories beyond your imagination -- no matter how many times he tries to tell you their stories. They all just seem too wild to be true -- littered with little dots and lines that you could connect like constellations, they convey decades worth of life. A knife trick accident here, a wire snap there… allegedly, a horde of bees created many of the smaller dots. An experiment from youth gone wrong, he said, but you can't imagine he'd do anything different if presented with the opportunity again. Your lips upturn at the thought, and let your eyes roam to his cheeks: his fur bounces with every word he speaks, but even still, you can see little uneven patches. A thin line here and there, not quite reaching skin; a patch that's just a fraction shorter than the rest; all from recent incidents that simply came a little too close. But on his left cheek there's something new, something that you've never seen before.

There's one last streak of mud on his face that, clearly, he had missed. You're so focused on the mark that you hardly even feel yourself move to grab your handkerchief.

"--But in an art such as this, moderation is for the weak. If you'll give me just five minutes I'll have--"

He stills at your gentle touch, halting his speech for the second time tonight. His fur is softer than you expected, despite its dampness from the rain outside. You tilt his head upwards by just a fraction, your thumb and index gently holding his chin in place. Stricken with a sudden wave of adoration, you drag your thumb experimentally across what you can reach. The movement is so painfully fond and oh, so close -- just millimeters away from his lips. It's a gentle action that lasts no more than a second -- hell, maybe you didn't even realize you were doing it -- but it feels like a lifetime to him. He thought he'd get used to the lightheadedness that you always seem to inflict upon him, but he couldn't be more wrong. And before he has any time to recover, you're dabbing at his cheek with a silken cloth.

And for all your observations tonight, you end up missing the way his breath catches in his throat. You miss the way he leans into you by just a fraction, how his eyes widen at your softness; how they take to memorizing every contour of your face in awe; how he melts in your hold, like he's never been held with such kindness before. He doesn't think he has.

And that's nothing to say of all the things you can't see -- how his heart leaps into his chest, pounding so hard he's half sure you can see it through his shirt; how he prays for the world to stop just as it is now, so that he could enjoy this for just a few more seconds. How he's so sure that he's dreaming, but far too joyful to even consider pinching himself awake.

He's so enraptured with your touch that he hardly even processes your movements. It's only once you lean in -- close, so damn close, so easy to close the gap -- to get a better look at the spot that he finds his voice again.

"Oh, you don't have to, it's--" he curses himself for stumbling, for being so breathless in your presence, considering your previous praise for his eloquence. He doesn't know why you keep coming back here, why you keep entertaining him as you do, but he's not going to complain. He swallows, counting to five before starting again with renewed, albeit artificial, confidence. "I'm sure that lovely, lovely silk piece cost you quite the pretty penny."

And this time, it's your turn to blink owlishly. You look at the cloth, then back at him, before laughing softly. And just like that you're leaning back in, once again coaxing the mire from his face. It's silent between the two of you for just a moment, so quiet that you damn near forget where you are. And in a moment of courage, you up his face in full. You feel his jaw clench beneath your hand, emboldening you to push just a bit further. You catch his eye, smiling softly.

"You know money doesn't mean a thing to me, Rocky," you murmur, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

A million words are left silently humming in the gap between you, a million words you hope he can pick up on in your silence. 'Not when it's you,' you think to yourself. 'I'd give up every penny for just another second with you.'

There's a glimmer in your eyes that can only be described as fond, and he basks in it before you turn back to your task. This time, he doesn't stop you.

#lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #lackadaisy rocky x reader #lackadaisy imagines #roark rickaby x reader #divider by @cafekitsune #you know with how often i write about rainy days you'd think its raining a lot here. it isn't. i just have a rainy jazz playlist.

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dotster001 · 1 year

Text

Found

Summary: Lilia x gn!reader. Lilia has lived multiple lifetimes with you. But where have you been?

CW: reader has been multiple genders previously, but is currently using gn!pronouns. Discussions of death and illness. Angst to comfort.

Chapters: two

"You'll find me when I come back. I know you will."

That was the last thing you'd said to him when you died in your first lifetime. Even he was young then. A young fae soldier on a mission, days away from being promoted.

You were a male human soldier, who'd been in the company that "captured" him. You'd treated him with respect. You cared about his well being, and he never had the heart to tell you how the other soldiers treated him.

On your way to take him to the palace, you'd talk. You fell for each other on the journey, even though everything in him knew the end was coming.

He'd told you his plan, and asked you to flee with him. You'd told him you both had a duty to your people. But you couldn't hate him. And, at the end, he held you in his arms, you'd told him you were certain he'd find you again.

He'd felt you come back fifty years later. He waited until you would be an adult, then went searching for you. You were a woman this time, a maid to a human Queen.

He visited you at night, a stranger from the woods. You'd fallen for him again, and began to make plans to start a family together.

Then you'd fallen ill, taken down by one of the numerous human ailments, and, on your deathbed, had told him the same thing.

"You'll find me when I come back. I know you will."

Fifty years, like clockwork. Fifty years after your death, he'd feel you return. He'd wait until you'd reached adulthood, and then he would come find you. You'd been multiple genders, had multiple appearances, and lived in multiple places.

It hadn't been until your fourth lifetime that you'd been able to live longer. And even then you'd never make it to your happily ever after. But everytime, you'd assure him that you knew he'd find you. And your hope kept him going.

He was so excited this time. Raising the young prince, he had a head start with the family you'd always talked about…but he never felt you.

A long, long, time had passed since you were supposed to have returned. Many lifetimes, actually, had come and gone, and nothing.

He added Silver, then eventually Sebek, to his little family. But by then he had finally lost hope that you were coming back.

…..

He was all dressed up in his ceremonial robes for the opening ceremonies, and looking for his silly prince, who had once again not been informed that something was happening. He had been searching around Ramshackle when he felt it. Felt you.

And he ran. All sense left his mind as he ran toward the familiar feeling. He couldn't even process his own thoughts anymore, only pure joy and excitement.

He felt he was drawing nearer and was so lost in his revery he nearly bumped straight into Riddle and Azul.

"Vanrouge? Is everything all right?" Riddle raised an eyebrow. Lilia froze for a moment seeing the collared cat thing that Azul was using his hand to keep from yelling.

Startled back to reality, he heard murmuring and yelling in the mirror chamber.

"What's happening?" He asked, trying to seem normal.

"Some student arrived late and this creature tried to set Kalim on fire," Riddle sighed.

The creature looked to be trying to protest, but Azul was doing a good job keeping him from talking.

"Are you here to pick up the new Diasomnia students?" Riddle tried after he stayed silent.

"Ah yes. Seems Malleus wasn't informed again," he laughed lightly, gave a nod, and entered the mirror chamber, where he felt your soul burning brightly for him like a torch.

His eyes fell on you immediately. Standing next to Crowley, shouting and trying to explain something. The room became aware of his presence and all eyes were on him, even yours.

Even if he couldn't feel you, he'd have known it was you. Right now you looked scared, tired, stressed, confused, and everything in between. But your eyes. No matter who you were or what you looked like, your eyes had the same glint in every lifetime. Like you knew a secret no one else knew. Though, you yourself never seemed to know what it was when he asked.

And now those eyes were on him. No recognition, of course, it was rare for you to remember a past life outside of a dream here and there. But still, you were here! And, even if he had to do his duty first, he still felt a joy he hadn't felt in a long time.

He'd kept his promise.

He'd found you.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @leonia0

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia

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deerspherestudios · 9 months

Note

Hey! I just recently met and went through the demo of "Mushroom Oasis", and I already have so many questions! I hope I won't be too intrusive. You may not answer some questions if the answers contain spoilers.

Questions about the game: 1.Will it be possible to choose the MC gender? Is it possible to choose the gender of the cat in the same way? It's just that when I started the game, I named the cat after my cat and it was a little funny to me when the pronoun of the cat was "she" when my cat is male.

Will we be able to choose some kind of "style" for the MC, according to the type of clothing, at the beginning of the game?

Questions about Michael:

Does he see the world like an ordinary person? I mean he has 2 pairs of eyes and 3 pairs of pupils. And it baffles me.

If the MC suddenly goes out alone and doesn't come back by midnight, will Mychael worry about the MC and will he go looking for the MC?

How does Mychael feel about piercings and tattoos? Does he know about it? If so, would he like a piercing/tattoo?

I wonder where Mychael gets things for the house. That is, I saw that he had a broom, thread and knitting needles. Where did he get them???

If Mychael saw me (I'm 164 cm tall and I have red hair), would he think I'm some kind of witch, because of the color of my hair, or something like that? How would he react if he saw me?

And sorry for the mistakes, I used google translator. English is not my native language :( I also want to say that I am your fan from Latvia (I don’t know why I’m saying this, I just want to please you with the fact that you have a fan from the Baltic countries)

Oop!! Ty for the questions!! Let me try and answer em under the cut, since it might end up as a pretty long post hahaha. But hi hello!!! I'm always happy to know where my fans come from, it's always a surprise for me to see people around the globe enjoy my silly little game ;v;

Questions about the game:

1. Will it be possible to choose the MC gender? Is it possible to choose the gender of the cat in the same way?

Being nonbinary, I just choose not to mention pronouns when writing for the game, so anyone can fit in their shoes. Unless it comes to a point where I have to use it, I'll probably code in a pronoun tool but for now it doesn't seem necessary! As for the cat, that's a good suggestion. Perhaps I'll try coding it in for the next update so the cat can be male or female, according to player preference!

2. Will we be able to choose some kind of "style" for the MC, according to the type of clothing, at the beginning of the game?

Probably not, as I'm not really good at setting that up in Ren'Py. I did make an MC design though! But what they look like is entirely up to you. I've drawn a POV shot of them wearing jeans and sneakers but that's about it. They can look however you like!

Questions about Mychael:

1. Does he see the world like an ordinary person?

He does! Trigger warning for unsettling iris images if you wanna look this up, but his bottom pair is kinda what people with polycoria has. Except it's normal for him, and not really a condition. His vision is normal, he just has lotsa peepers.

2. If the MC suddenly goes out alone and doesn't come back by midnight, will Mychael worry about the MC and will he go looking for the MC?

Yes? He didn't save you just to have you running off into danger again. He'd absolutely track you down and find you.

3. How does Mychael feel about piercings and tattoos? Does he know about it? If so, would he like a piercing/tattoo?

He knows about it, but not enough to really understand how it works! He finds it fascinating humans decorate their bodies with shiny beads and jewels, and turn their skin into tapestries for art. He'd probably assume you can take them off any time and that the tattoos are drawn onto the skin.

I don't imagine he'd want a piercing, but he'd probably try a tattoo! (Until he realizes it's ink going under the skin, in which case he might change his mind haha)

4. I wonder where Mychael gets things for the house. Where did he get them???

He has his ways ::-)

5. How would he react if he saw me?

He wouldn't be reacting much to how you look. You're not the first human he's seen! He's been around plenty of them, but you'd be one of the few he's interacted with the longest. And that's what makes you stand out more than anything else.

Phew that was a big ask!! But thank you for the interest :-D!! Hope everything's good in Latvia!

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #cheea chatter #bts

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gay-little-axolotl · 9 months

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my designs for the sillies!!

elaboration on the designs + some hcs under the cut (it’s a long one folks!)

Ocean: she/her, lesbian, aroace-spec; her hair is naturally a Fucking Curly Mess, so she straightens it out, sprays it, and uses a headband and hair-clips; Ocean always has a pencil behind her ear in case she needs to write something down, but she always forgets she put it there; she has a coat on her waist because a long-sleeved shirt and a vest is not enough. she must not feel an ounce of cold.

Noel: he/she/they, bigender, gay; his hair is also a Fucking Curly Mess so he just puts some gel on and prays to satan it works; Noel tries to tone it down like his mother told him so he doesn’t wear pride merch to school or anything, but he does wear black earrings and black nail polish

Mischa: he/him, bisexual; I basically tried to make him look like the type of person my mom would point at in the street and go “that’s what satan does to a person!!”; Mischa constantly looks like he’s been hit by a bus, he says it’s because he gets into fights, but he’s just a fucking wreck; backwards hat, bi pin and star of David pin because I saw @lemon69lol’s post and have decided that Jewish Mischa is canon now; Ukrainian flag phone case!!; Ricky bought him these BRIGHT neon green crocs for his 18th birthday and he wears it every day (Noel wants to shred those fucking crocs);

Ricky/Savannah: any pronouns + neos, genderfluid, bisexual, demiromantic?; I gave them the neon space cat headphones and crutches as always, but I added spikes to the crutches so my guy can kick some ableist ass, and an AAC device because of an art post THAT I CAN’T FIND! if someone has that one drawing of Ricky with an AAC device strapped to his crutch tell me because I want to give credit to the artist but I CAN’T; genderfluid + any pronouns pin; shoes that aren’t matching and a dress over pants because fuck the dress-code

Jane Doe: she/they/it/doll, unlabeled; I have no idea where this design came from but, Jane with X eyes, I guess; I think I was originally basing her off of Spinel but fuck, what do I know?; doll is based on my Emilia Jane Doe

Constance: she/they, demi-girl, sapphic; I tried to make her hair resemble Trinity Constance because I ADORE their Constance!; hoop earrings and braces because I said so; rainbow socks because she’s fuckin’ queer; colorful band-aids for reasons I will not be telling you, sorry

uniform insp

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alyxdefoisnthere · 4 months

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Mod D: This blog has so many trigger warnings I can't be arsed to name them, so for this reason PROCEED WITH CAUTION, now you can't say I didn't warn you because it's in all caps in my intro post so haha fuck you.

I am female unless I'm not, then I'm male unless I'm not, then I'm neither unless I'm not, then I'm both unless I'm no-....... In other words, I use she/he/they pronouns.

(Yoinked from @xdynomite )

MY FRIENDS!!!! <3

-@millie-of-imp (A SECOND MOD D BLOG?! WHAAAAT?!?!)

-@alastor-the-demon (my bestest friend in all of the 9 circles of hell, like a father to me :3)

-@alastorthisisthetea (married dad)

-@siempreminta (one and only mum, is married to married dad)

-@mcalastor (minimum wage dad)

-@leo-velaz (Father Leo <3)

-@sketchbuddies (sketch and crystal are my children)

-@stampy-offical (My future husband, come at him and you'll find your heart in his hands... Literally)

-@xdynomite (my Americunt™ boy, come at me hoe)

-@bachirathebumblebee145 (my IRL school pooke, follow her or I'll hunt you down)

-@possibly-astraeus (cool guy James :D)

-@kip-davis (fellow Brit)

-@ilovemydogrykersomuch

-@ducky-loyal-servant-of-lucifer (my child who's older than me, hurt them and I'll kill you)

-@autistic-katara

-@astro-raven-power (My lil sis)

-@king--of--ducks (Step dad Luci, married to minimum wage dad)

-@nerdyquestier

-@cursed-cat-alastor (my pet cat because i like cats more than dogs :3)

-@flowersbringsadness (my very precious pup)

-@cherri-is-bomb (big sis cherri)

-@weapon-collector-odette (sister)

-@hoshi-neko-hikari (my child, hurt her and I hurt your knee caps)

-@velvettefashions-official (same mod as miss Rosie)

-@vox-tv-demon (my father)

-@headlessdeaddancer (my younger brother)

Mod D: I LOVE YOU ALL MY FRIENDS <3 (PICTURE BELOW MADE BY KATARA!!)

go check everyone on this post out or i will personally come to your house an make a Ramsay level meal out of you

What is my goofy ass doing right now?

I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time heeheee

in other words, cus im me, i naturally had a strike of bad luck and can now only use tumblr at school once a week for about an hour lol

Mod Status: Cried for over an hour cus i got stressed out cleaning my room, all I had to do was some organising, im honestly not doing the best but OH WELL

My dad is a prick, fuck you

NOTIFICATION GOAL: More than 3, im not online enough to care, as long as my friends who talk to me in DM's regularly respond to me, im not fussed

OMFG I HAVE A SCHEDULE?!?!

Online for an hour once a week during my school IT lessons, either on a Monday at 11:10-12:05 GMT or Tuesday at 13:20-14:15 GMT

MONSTER CAN COLLECTION LIST

-Bad Apple

-Pipeline Punch

-Pacific Punch

-Lewis Hamilton (special edition)

-Ultra Black

-Orange Dreamsicle

-Mango Loco

ALL ABOUT ME, MOD D

My name is Alyx Danielle GH (not giving yall my full name lmfao), I go by Danielle both here and IRL. I dont like the name Alyx because I associate it with the trauma I went through as a young child and I hate the fact my PRICK OF A DAD chose that name. My dad is not a very nice parent, he told me I would be a druggie, alchie (alchoholic) and a slag by the time im 16, yeeeaahhh....real nice parenting. Im genderfluid, presenting as female, bisexual, my birthday is January 28th 2010 making me 14. I was born in a small city here in England and I am 3/4 Irish. I like to draw, read (I reccommend strangeways) and bake, I suffer with physical and mental health problems including Anxiety, ASD and ADHD. I dont like fakes, homphobes pedos, bigots, racists etc, so if youre any of these...BACK OFF OF MY SILLY AHH RP BLOG

#pinned post #yes I do need a mosnter can collection

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suengmi · 1 year

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✧ all is lost ✧ 3k, r

hollowed eyes with dark circles splattered underneath. like clouds on a dark day, thunder waiting to boom. the man standing before you; looking like he's going to break, but he doesn't. he never does. what were you doing wrong?

pairing: lee know x afab!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

genre: angst, romance, smut [[[[emotional]]]] lmao

warnings/other: cussing, slight!arguing, crying, unprotected sex, shower sex, kinda? proofread soz, prompt

♡ masterlist ♡ please reblog if you liked! it rly helps and i love to hear your feedback ♡

a/n: HERE WE GO BEBEHHHH ANGSTY MINHO LOVE MAKING BEBEHHH thank you anon for being patient! i hope you enjoy eee but fr as always upset myself bc ITS FINGER GRIPPIN EMOTIONAL SEX YUCKDKD go away I need to rest rip

the first time you met lee know, you were in your black silk pyjamas. not really the best for the occasion you had thought, hair slicked back with a cat headband and eyebrows not filled in. lee know had come to your house to watch movies with jisung, your housemate. it wasn't often jisung brought people over, but you remember jisung mentioning that his friend was a movie buff like both of you were.

"this is lee know, minho sometimes if you're close." jisung had said, gesturing between you and his friend.

your lips formed into a straight line, nodding awkwardly. you just came out to grab a snack and drink. but here he was, being friendly and nice to you, openly making conversation. he had asked about you, what you liked and what you did for a job. how could you refuse? you weren't one to be rude. plus, he was really cute. that part didn't bother you as much. after a short conversation you had said goodbye, shuffling back to your room, a warm cup of green tea in your hand.

it wasn't until the third time he had come over to watch movies that you decided to join. you had carefully sat on the edge of the couch, trying not to get close.

to your surprise, lee know had slapped the cushion next to him, eyes still on the tv. you slinked down slowly, letting your silk pyjamas do the job for you. it wasn't long before he looked at you, offering you a handful of spicy cheetos. mouth full as he spoke, "want thum?"

when you had observed jisung and lee knows behaviour, lee know was very touchy. he was always hugging and laying on jisung, linking arms with him when they walked.

in saying that, the closer that you and lee know got the more he would touch you. always hugging you when he came and left, always asking if you were okay when you were sleepy on the couch, hand rubbing on your arm gently.

a few times he had dragged you from the couch, pulling you by your arm to end up steering you by your hips, making car sounds as he pushed you towards your room. sometimes, he'd even use your cat headband to hold his hair back when he washed his face. you didn't mind though. after he was done he would always put it back on your head, slapping your cheeks gently saying you looked cute. always with those damn touches.

this is what began it all, the way he touched you. he wasn't afraid of it and you loved it, loved how comfortable he was. every time he touched you, you'd reciprocate, seemingly just as comfortable as him.

one movie night down the track, jisung was asleep on the couch, your favourite ghibli movie playing.

"from yesterday!" you grinned, freshly brushed teeth showing. "it's my favourite."

lee know had laughed at your silly grin and said he hadn't seen it.

as the movie began you felt his hand lay on your thigh, gently opening his fingers. he didn't look at you, just continued watching the tv.

a few minutes or so into the movie, you peered down to his hand. obviously open for you to grab it. the urge over took you, just to feel his hands against your own.

fuck it. you had thought, placing your palm on his. he didn't make a face or jolt, but accepted the touch, fingers lacing with your own. it was like it was natural, like it was meant to be. this was the beginning of something simple, something new, fresh and exciting.

he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up like a boy who had his first crush. you returned the smile, head leaning down to his shoulder.

as the days went on you found yourself falling helplessly in love with him. the time went too quickly, never seemingly able to spend enough time with together. he'd always laugh, resting his forehead on yours telling you that you were too greedy. it was his favourite thing about you, how needy you were for him and wanted to keep him all to yourself.

lee know was your biggest supporter, always being there for you in your bad times. telling you he loved all parts of you, the ones you called ugly or bad, and the ones you hated. nothing was off limits to him, showing your whole self as is, not hiding any of your darkness like you did to all the others you loved.

he was strong, a statue in his nature never faulting. never was there a complaint, a rude tone or even an argument. he always listened, caring about how you felt and what you had to say.

not once had you been so in love with someone before, your heart swelling more and more as the months went on.

something was bothering you, you weren't sure what. maybe it was the fact that lee know hadn't been himself lately. there were occasions where you could sense he was upset, but he would comfort your worries with a kiss, pulling you into a hug letting you know he was fine.

he drew a line, it was one you weren't allowed to cross. you wanted so desperately to see what was behind the line, to get into a part of him that no one else had. the more you pondered on it the more you had realised you had never seen him cry, never had he ever come to you for comfort. so that's what it was, he didn't seek shelter in you. it made you feel useless, like you weren't doing what you were supposed to.

the last few weeks you had seen him more quiet, seen him more distant. anxiety jumped in your throat whenever you thought about it. his kisses lessened, the sex lessened and his usual smile wasn't as full as it commonly was.

it's about one in the morning, lee knows arrival wakes you from your sleep on the couch. he had given you a key to the house and you were able to use it freely, not ever needing to tell him if you were at his or not. he always welcomed you, never questioning it.

when you come to the door, your met with your boyfriend. you take in his appearance.

"babe?" you say quietly, hand grabbing his empty one.

"hey." he says to you blankly, pressing a swift kiss on your forehead. he lets go of your hand, throwing his bags on the ground and plops himself on the couch. he sighs as he takes out his phone to scroll.

"is it okay that i'm here?" you ask meekly, standing in front of him. he nods without looking up at you.

"are you okay?"

he looks up to you for a second, nodding again without effort.

expressionless and bored is how you'd explain him. you're frozen for a moment, not knowing how you should approach this.

you've got to say something, anything.

"talk to me." you say bending down, placing a hand onto his leg.

"baby, i'm fine." he says, tone slightly agitated.

he's never spoken to you like that. a dull pain aches in your heart. for the first time ever, you didn't feel welcome.

you bend to your knees, hands placing themselves on his thighs. "if i did something wrong, please tell-"

"it's not always about you." he grunts, pushing your arm gently to make his way to his room.

you didn't follow him. you thought about it, wanting to grab onto him and hold him. instead, you opt for laying on the couch. feeling like if you go into his room, you'll get the lee know that you didn't know, the lee know that you wanted to. you wanted to see all of him, just like he saw all of you. but maybe he wasn't ready. you had to respect that.

a small sound enters your ears. you're not asleep but you're not awake, somewhere in between. is the shower on? you're not even sure what time it is, but it's still dark. in your sleepy daze, you throw your blanket to the side and walk to the bathroom door, eyes still fuzzy in the dark.

the door is slightly ajar, rarely was it ever shut when you were in his apartment. you can hear the shower running, fast and hot, the steam slightly escaping through the crack.

"babe?" you ask curiously. it doesn't seem like he can hear you.

you push the door forwards a bit, barely a centimetre or two. "babe?"

still nothing.

this was new territory, you'd never experienced your boyfriend like this. although you didn't want to push his boundaries, it was hurting your heart to see him so upset. you wanted to help.

"honey?" you call one last time, slowly manoeuvring yourself through the doors crack.

still nothing.

just barely, you can see him through the glass door, his figure seemingly sitting on the ground. you approach the shower, sliding the door open gingerly, only to be met with your boyfriend in a state. his head is in his hands, hot water relentless and boiling as it trickles down his back. he doesn't look up at you, but he knows you're there.

in a small haste, you slip off your shirt with ease, now naked aside from your undies.

you don't speak, bending down to be at his level. your hands grip gently onto his, prying them away from his face with care.

the expression he gives you sends a sudden tinge of sorrow to your stomach. he's broken, an absolute mess. the rings around his eyes are red, dark circles even worse than before. red blotches stain across his cheeks, clearly from crying and steam from the shower. he seems hesitant to let you see, head dipping from your view.

still weary, you slowly manouver to slot yourself behind him, wrapping your legs close to his hips and hands resting under his arms, locking in front of his waist.

this cracks him. the tears falling from him worsen, as if triggered by your touch. you let him cry, your head resting in the crook of his neck. you sway gently, as if rocking him like baby.

both of you stay like this for a while, letting him get whatever it was off of his chest. you're a bit confused and anxious, still unsure of how to approach this, but you just want him to feel okay. you'll do anything at this point.

eventually he speaks, breaking the silence. voice cracking with every syllable. "i'm so- sor- sorry."

as if a confirmation and hush to his words, you kiss his neck softly. one of your hands raises to rest on his head, massaging his scalp gently. he leans into your hand, body slipping a bit against your own.

"breathe. whatever you need, i got you." you whisper, still rocking with him gently. "anything."

the breath he lets out is shaky, but he's stopped his sobbing now. you help him with his breaths, matching your own with his. this seems to calm him down, his breathing more even now.

"c'mon." you say, letting him go as lightly as you can to stand up. he quietly whimpers from the loss of your touch, staring up at you.

you hold your hand down to him, trying to get him to stand. "let's wash you."

you didn't question why he was crying, or why he didn't open up to you. maybe he just needed to come to it on his own terms, and you were okay with that, thinking about it now.

he hums lowly, eyes still red. he's enjoying your touches as you wash his hair, his hands resting on your hips.

"this okay?" you say, fingers softly rubbing through the hair on his scalp.

"yeah." he breathes out, seemingly falling asleep. he must be exhausted, all of that pent-up emotion he had been carrying for weeks.

tenderly, he grabs your wrists, stopping you from continuing.

"hm?" you ask, "you want me to stop?"

with no words, he wraps your hands around his neck, bringing his body closer to yours.

the kiss he presses on you is like a feather, the nerves in your lips tickling with every movement he makes with his own. your hands are still covered in lathered shampoo, slipping on his back when you try to deepen the kiss and find something to latch yourself onto. he senses your desperation to hold him, pushing his body closer to yours as your lips meld with his.

one of his hands finds it's way down your back, running down the slope of your hips to settle at the base of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh. you moan into the kiss opening your mouth a bit more.

to your surprise, he stops, looking down for a moment. he mumbles something, you can't make it out.

"huh?" you say, eyes on him.

"i said i love you."

the thump in your chest nearly makes you choke. this is the first time he's said this to you. tears form in your eyes, completely over whelmed by his confession.

"i love you." he breathes out again.

his following kisses are now more needy but still soft. the confession has you almost drunk, your mind lightheaded from the feeling.

nothing about this is fast, not with the way his hand lifts your leg to rest on his hip, kissing every part of your neck and shoulders. this intimacy has you feeling vulnerable. everything from your past tells you to run, but you don't want to. not this time.

he let's out a grunt, bumping you upwards to wrap your legs around his waist, gently settling you on the shower ledge. he doesn't even break the kiss, not even for a second. not wanting to ruin this.

you can feel him against you. he grows harder with every kiss and the motions of your bodies sliding together under the water.

when he pulls back, he doesn't ask for permission for what's about to happen. he knows you want this as much as he does. your arms sit loosely on his shoulders as he breaks contact, only parting to bend and slide your soaked underwear to the ground.

kisses are all over your legs, slow and lazy in their wake. eventually, he makes his way to your jaw, his hands pulling you flush against him, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist once again. you pull him closer, hands securing themselves around his shoulders as you press your face into his neck. you feel him nudging at your folds. his cock pushes its way past with no hand needed guidance.

you have to say it back, let him know this is his home, that you're safe before it's too late.

"i love you too."

the fullness surprises you. your strangled moans echoes off the shower walls, and he's deeper than usual. so much slower, like he's taking his time wanting to feel all of you. tingles of pleasure vibrate in your cunt with every time he slowly pulls out and fucks back into you at the same pace.

"really?" he questions after minute, almost stuttering, his hips lazily moving against you.

this isn't just sex. this was a full mind and body experience. you'd never reached this type of height before, completely engulfed with what's happening. it's like you're completely separated from yourself, your mind not comprehending things how it usually would. almost like hot flashes of bliss, you can almost visualise it.

"really."

the more he thrusts the more his breathes become laboured, yours along with his. his palms find their way to your cheeks to plant open mouthed kisses, hands gripping into you as if you're going to disappear.

"don't leave me." he mumbles, mouth open against yours.

you shake your head, your fingers now gripping into the base of his hair.

a frown paints across his face, his eyes staring into your own. they're still red, but they're filled with so much emotion. his previous sorrow ridden eyes are now beaming at you, enjoying seeing you come apart as his thrusts become faster.

"it's okay." you coo between groans, bringing his lips to hover at yours. "it's okay, stay with me, i'm here."

the grip he has on you gets harder. it's like you're giving him permission, permission to use every part of you for his own will. you can tell he's about to cum, hips stuttering and lips sitting just on the edge of your cheek.

the thrusts begin to lack rhythm; his grunts and moans are low, sounds of the running water still bouncing off the stall. so you let him fill you, his white painting your walls as he reaches his peak.

nothing in him wants to let you go, his grip on you doesn't relent. you let him do whatever he needs, even if you stay like this forever, you wouldn't have minded.

his head eventually buries itself into your neck, breath heavy and warm on you. you hear a small whimper, he's trying to hide it into your neck.

"c'mon, lets go to bed."

it's okay that lee know didn't tell you what was wrong, he'd tell you eventually and when he was ready. all he needed to know that you were there for him and that it was okay to be vulnerable with you. not all was lost, he was your maze, your beautiful confused labyrinth. you didn't need a map, knowing he would guide you eventually.

but until that time comes, you're happy being just what he needs.

#lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho x f reader #lee know #minho #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids #skz fic #myfic #WAH EMOTIONAL SEX HNGGGG #angst hours be like #i feel like i rushed the last bit but ): ok #skz smut #skz #prompt

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