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evermoreness · 5 months ago

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hi lovely!! i had a random idea for a fic where reader is harry’s kindergarten teacher and he lets it slip to you that single dad james thinks she’s pretty? im just imaging a little 5 year old letting that information slip like it’s the most casual thing in the world and meanwhile james is dying of embarrassment hahahha. i just thought it would be cute :)

— This idea is so cute! Thanks for sharing with me, hope you like it! @iloveremmy

secret crush | james potter

pairing: james potter x muggle!reader

summary: dad!james is definitely ready to love again after some time, he just didn't think it would be harry's kindergarten teacher.

obs: feel free to send any requests!

masterlist

The small classroom was filled with laughter, crayons, and the chaotic energy only a group of five-year-olds could create. The walls were covered in colorful drawings, some resembling actual objects and others looking more like abstract masterpieces only a parent could pretend to understand.

At the front of the room stood y/n, the most beloved teacher in the entire kindergarten. She had a natural warmth about her, making every child feel special. She was also quick-witted and funny, always finding a way to make the most mundane things exciting. Her students adored her.

And at the center of it all, sitting on one of the tiny chairs like he was some kind of prince, was Harry Potter.

Harry was an interesting child—smart, playful, and with a sass level that could rival a teenager. He had a mop of messy black hair that never seemed to stay put, big green eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a personality far too charming for a five-year-old.

He had been extra sassy today, insisting he was "way too advanced" for their ABC exercises and that "Uncle Moony reads him much harder books." You had learned by now to just nod along when Harry said bizarre things like that.

You had taken a particular liking to him. Not that you played favorites (at least, not openly), but something about Harry made you want to protect him even more than the other kids. Maybe it was the fact that he was being raised by a single dad, or maybe it was the way he always looked at you with that cheeky little grin whenever he was about to say something absurd.

Right now, that cheeky grin was in full force.

"Miss y/l/n," Harry said, swinging his legs under the table as he colored.

"Yes, love?" you replied, crouching down to his level.

He leaned in as if he was about to share the most confidential secret of his life. "My dad thinks you're pretty."

You blinked.

Oh.

Oh!

You opened your mouth to respond, but Harry, apparently very pleased with himself, continued. "He says you're too young to have this many kids"

Well, you definitely held back the laughter, but as you didn't have an answer to that, you just changed subjects. You leaned over to glance at Harry’s drawing. It was a messy but clearly heartfelt attempt at a stick figure version of himself and his dad, complete with what looked like… a broomstick?

“That’s a great drawing, Harry!” you praised, ruffling his hair. “Is that you and your dad?”

Harry nodded, proudly holding up his masterpiece. “Yeah! That’s me, and that’s Daddy, and he’s flying really fast on his broom because he’s the best at Quidditch!”

Let's say Harry Potter was a really imaginative kid. He would always say some really funny stories about witches and sometimes, he would full on create new words. Like he was just doing now. You found it cute, but little did you know that it was actually all true.

You grinned. “I bet he is.”

Harry’s little legs swung as he beamed. “Yeah! And he says he used to be the best Seeker at Hogwarts! I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

“That’s a great dream,” you said, genuinely warmed by how much Harry admired his father.

James was tall, lean, and had the same messy hair as his son. He was dressed casually, but there was something effortlessly charming about him. And then there were his eyes—warm, hazel, and currently widening in horror as he realized what his son was in the middle of saying.

"And my dad also said—oh, hey, Dad!" Harry greeted, as if he hadn’t just delivered a verbal nuke seconds before.

James, who had clearly heard enough, looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Harry," he started, his voice a little strained, "what exactly have you been telling Miss y/l/n?"

Harry, completely unfazed, gestured at his teacher. "I was just telling her how you think she's pretty."

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You found it cute how a grown man was becoming all flustered right now.

“I mean—” James rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have said something along the lines of you being… you know… a good teacher.”

Harry frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

James glared at his son. A warning look. A look that screamed drop it, drop it now, child.

Harry, of course, did not drop it.

James let out an awkward, nervous laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah, um, I don't know where he got that from—"

"You said it last night," Harry reminded him. "When you were talking to Uncle Pads and you said—"

"Okay, that's enough, kiddo!" James cut in quickly, picking up Harry like he was a sack of potatoes. His face was an interesting shade of pink now. "Time to go, say goodbye to your teacher!"

Harry, enjoying this far too much, gave you a knowing look before waving. "Bye, Miss! See you tomorrow! Oh, and it's okay! My dad only likes you a little bit."

James groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

You, to your credit, simply gave James a bright, amused smile. "It’s fine. Kids say the funniest things."

James, still trying to compose himself, let out a breath. "Yeah. They do."

You tilted your head, studying him for a second. "Though, I have to say, you do have a very smart kid. And very honest."

James gave you a sheepish smile. "Yeah… unfortunately, he gets that from his mother."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something sad, something that made you instinctively soften your tone. "She must've been wonderful."

James nodded. "Yeah. She really was."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Then, because James couldn't handle any more embarrassment today, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right. Well. We'll be going now. Before Harry decides to share my entire life story."

You grinned. "That’s probably a good idea. Have a good evening, Harry. James."

James hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "You too."

As he walked out, still carrying a smug-looking Harry, you couldn't help but shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

James Potter, huh?

This was going to be interesting.

As soon as they were outside, James crouched down and gave Harry a look of pure exasperation. “Alright, Prongslet. Why?”

Harry just grinned up at him, utterly unapologetic. “I like Miss y/n. You like Miss y/n. Uncle Padfoot said you should talk to her more. I was helping.”

James dropped his head in his hands. “You and Sirius are banned from talking to each other ever again.”

The aftermath

James Potter was dying.

Not literally—he had survived multiple Quidditch accidents, a war, and Voldemort himself—but right now, standing outside of Harry’s kindergarten classroom, he was convinced that actual death would be less painful than the secondhand embarrassment he had just experienced.

His five-year-old son, his sweet, traitorous, utterly clueless son, had just casually exposed his very real, very secret crush on Miss y/n.

He was never showing his face in that classroom again.

…Okay, that was a lie.

He’d be back tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

Because Harry loved school, and James definitely wasn’t going to pull him out just because he got caught being a pathetic twenty-five-year-old with a schoolboy crush on his kid’s teacher.

But, Merlin’s beard, how was he supposed to look you in the eyes again?

But instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, because—screw it—he wasn’t actually opposed to talking to you.

At first, James had been mortified, barely able to meet your eyes when he picked up his son. But as the days went by, he found himself lingering a little longer each time. It started small—asking how Harry was doing, if he was behaving (spoiler: he wasn’t), and if he was making friends.

But then your conversations stretched longer.

“So, uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Harry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

James nodded, trying to look serious. “Yeah. His, uh… behavior.”

You blinked, looking at Harry, who was currently playing with another student and doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“…His behavior?” you echoed.

James cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s, uh, very concerning.”

You folded your arms, clearly humoring him. “What exactly is concerning about it?”

James hesitated. “Well. You know. The talking thing.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “The talking thing?”

James sighed, knowing you weren’t buying it. “Yeah. You know. The way he just… talks. No filter. Says things. About me.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head. “James, you do realize that’s completely normal for his age, right?”

James groaned. “I was hoping you’d say there was a cure.”

You grinned. “Afraid not.”

James huffed, but there was a smile playing at his lips now. “Brilliant. Well, at least tell me—how do I make sure he doesn’t casually ruin my life every time he opens his mouth?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, but I think you’re doomed.”

James sighed dramatically. “That’s what I thought.” He glanced at Harry again, who was still happily playing, then looked back at you. “Well, I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything too bad.”

You smirked. “Oh, no, just that you think I’m really pretty and smile a lot when you talk about me.”

James groaned. “Merlin’s sake, why would you repeat it?”

You laughed. “Because it’s funny.”

James shot her a look. “For you, maybe.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Oh, come on, James. It’s not that bad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that I’m going to be forced to relocate and change my name now, right?”

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” James deadpanned. “I’ll be John Smith from now on. You’ve never met me before in your life.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “Well, John Smith, if it makes you feel any better…” you hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice softer. “I don’t mind what Harry said.”

James froze.

Your eyes were warm, teasing but also… something else.

And suddenly, James realized—maybe this wasn’t as embarrassing as he thought.

Maybe Harry had just given him the best excuse in the world to talk to the woman he’d been secretly crushing on.

And maybe—just maybe—he was okay with that.

For the first time that day, James grinned.

“Well then,” he said. “In that case, I think I can survive the humiliation.”

You chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

From that day forward, James’s routine of picking Harry up from school became a little different.

At first, he told himself he was just being polite—nothing wrong with staying an extra minute or two to talk to Harry’s teacher, right? Totally normal. Every parent did that.

Except every time, those one or two minutes stretched longer.

And longer.

Until one day, he realized he was actively looking forward to pick-up time—not just to see Harry, but because he’d get to talk to you.

Getting to know each other

James had fully intended to keep his distance after the Incident—as he now called it in his head. He had absolutely not planned to linger when picking up Harry, nor did he intend to talk to you for longer than necessary. But that's not exactly what happened since they had been talking a lot lately.

"Everything good today?" James would ask, standing at the doorway.

"Harry was a little sassy during storytime," you would say, amused. "He insisted he already knew how it ended and started narrating over me."

James sighed, rubbing his temple. "Of course, he did. Did he at least get it right?"

"Surprisingly, yes," you said. "Honestly, he’s way too smart for a five-year-old."

James smirked. "He gets it from me, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

And then, the next day…

"Harry told me today that he was going to ‘summon his broom’ to get out of naptime."

James coughed. "Uh. Kids have wild imaginations, don’t they?"

"Mhm," you said, amused. "Though, I have to say, that’s a very specific thing to imagine."

James quickly changed the subject.

And then, the next day after that...

He found himself lingering near your desk, watching Harry shove his tiny arms into his backpack with all the grace of a rampaging hippogriff.

“So,” James started, leaning against the desk, “should I be worried about his academic future, or is struggling with backpack logistics a phase?”

You grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s a phase. I think.”

James sighed dramatically. “Merlin’s sake, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I’d have to enroll him in some kind of Backpack Etiquette for Beginners course.”

You chuckled. “Well, I do give him stickers when he remembers to pack up neatly.”

James blinked. “That’s brilliant.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Bribery works wonders at this age.”

James laughed. “Noted.”

And just like that, their conversation stretched past the usual parent-teacher exchange.

James found himself not in a rush to leave.

You didn’t seem to mind.

And Harry, for once, didn’t interrupt with any more mortifying revelations.

A win for James.

A week later, James arrived earlier than usual and found you organizing a small shelf of children’s books.

“Expanding their literary horizons?” he asked, stepping closer.

You looked up, smiling. “Trying to. Some of them are still convinced books are just really boring building blocks.”

James smirked. “Ah, yes. The tragic underappreciation of literature.”

You chuckled. “Exactly.” you tilted your head. “Did you like reading when you were a kid?”

James shrugged. “I liked it. But I wasn’t the sit-quietly-and-read type. That was Remus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Remus?”

“My best mate,” James explained. “Loves books. Absolute nightmare when you try to pull him away from one.”

You grinned. “Sounds like the kind of student I’d love to have.”

“Oh, absolutely,” James said. “Meanwhile, I was the kid causing problems in the back of the class.”

You pretended to gasp. “You? Causing trouble? I would never have guessed.”

James smirked. “Shocking, I know.”

You fell into easy conversation after that, sharing stories about school, books, and the different kinds of students you had over the years.

James barely noticed the time passing.

Neither did you.

"Alright, I have to ask," you said one day, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway. "What’s up with Harry and the ‘Uncles’?"

James blinked. "What do you mean?"

"He talks about Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony constantly," you said. "Are they even real people?" you said, knowing that those names were definitely not usual. Maybe they were imaginary friends.

James tried not to laugh, he couldn't explain it to you in a detailed way, you were a Muggle after all. "Padfoot and Moony are my best mates. They are very real. It's just their nicknames. Padfoot is Sirius, Moony is Remus."

You smiled, trying to understand why they were even called that. "I swear, sometimes Harry sounds like a tiny old man when he quotes them."

James laughed. "That… yeah, that tracks. They’ve been around his whole life."

You smirked. "So, which one gives the worst advice?"

"Oh, definitely Sirius," James said immediately. "He told Harry once that he could read his mind and my poor kid spent the rest of the week scared to think"

You burst out laughing. "That’s terrible!"

"I know!" James said, grinning. "Remus had to be the voice of reason that day, convincing Harry that his uncle couldn't read his mind"

The small talk everyday was becoming a habit.

James would ask about your day, and you would roll your eyes and dramatically recount whatever chaos had ensued in your classroom—kids throwing crayons, glue disasters, the occasional crying over absolutely nothing. You were expressive, funny, and had this energy that James found… comforting.

You, in turn, asked about James—not just about Harry but about him. His work, his hobbies, things he liked. And James found himself telling you, actually enjoying your chats instead of awkwardly stumbling over his words like he thought he would.

But, of course, Harry noticed.

"Dad," Harry groaned one afternoon as James leaned against the classroom doorway, chatting away with you while other parents picked up their kids. "You’re doing it again."

James blinked down at his son. "Doing what, Prongslet?"

Harry huffed dramatically, grabbing his tiny backpack. "Talking and talking and talking."

You burst into laughter. "Oh no, Potter, you’ve been caught."

James narrowed his eyes at his son. "Maybe I like talking to your teacher, kiddo."

Harry groaned even louder, stomping toward the door. "Ugh, come on! We're always the last ones now!"

You laughed, nudging Harry’s nose playfully. "Oh, come on, am I that bad?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "No, but Daddy talks to you too much."

James cleared his throat. "Well, I just—y’know—parent stuff. Making sure you’re doing okay."

Harry squinted at him. "Uh-huh. Sure, Dad."

You smirked. "Guess I must be very interesting, huh?"

James ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Uh… yeah. I mean, no—I mean—"

You just chuckled and waved at Harry. "See you tomorrow, little tornado."

Harry grumbled something under his breath about adults being annoying and led the way out.

James followed, but not before sneaking one last glance at you.

Getting some advice (from the professionals)

By the time a couple of weeks had passed, James knew he had to do something.

Because this? This standing-in-the-doorway-every-day-for-way-too-long thing? This was not normal behavior. He wasn’t just talking to you about Harry anymore. He liked talking to you, period.

And that? That was terrifying.

You were the first person he’d felt anything for since Lily. It wasn’t the same—Lily had been his great, big, all-consuming love. But you? You were warmth, laughter, easy conversations, and teasing smiles. And that was something.

Which meant he was going to do the scariest thing he’d done since facing off against Voldemort.

He was going to ask you out.

Sirius and Remus, of course, had opinions.

"You just gotta charm her, Prongs," Sirius said confidently, lounging on James' couch. "Lay it on thick—tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, maybe throw in a ‘your eyes shine brighter than the stars’—"

Remus snorted from his chair. "Yes, James. Do that. That definitely won’t make her think you’re a lunatic."

Sirius furrowed his brows at his boyfriend "Hey! I think it worked wonders when i charmed you to like me"

Remus gave him a look "When did exactly you charmed me, pads?"

Sirius was quick to answer "Second year, of course, and it worked!"

Remus was trying not to laugh "Do you actually know that it didn't work, i just liked you back?"

Before Sirius could even snap back, his face surprised, James groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don’t need to charm her. I just… need to not make a fool of myself."

Sirius smirked. "Well, that’s impossible. But, hey, shoot your shot."

James was pacing his living room, gripping his hair. "I can’t do it. I can’t do it."

Sirius was looking deeply amused. "You, the James Potter, too scared to ask a woman out? This is history in the making."

Remus, sitting in an armchair, gave a long-suffering sigh. "James, it’s just coffee."

"Just coffee? Moony, I haven’t dated since Lily!" James threw his hands up. "What if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a terrible father for even thinking about dating?"

"Mate," Sirius said, sitting up. "I promise you, the last thing she’s thinking is that you’re a terrible father. She likes you."

James scoffed. "She doesn’t like me."

Sirius smirked. "Oh, yeah? Then why does she always smile at you? And laugh at your terrible dad jokes? And talk to you for an eternity?"

"That’s just—she’s nice!" James insisted.

Remus gave him a knowing look. "James. Just ask her."

James groaned. "Fine. But if I make an idiot of myself, I’m blaming both of you."

He was really going to ask you out.

Taking actions

It was a Friday afternoon. James had spent the entire day hyping himself up. This was it. No more standing around like an idiot. No more pretending he was just talking about Harry.

He was going to ask you out. Casually. Coolly. Like a totally normal, smooth person.

(He was absolutely not smooth.)

"Hey, y/n," James started as he leaned on the doorway of the classroom, trying to look relaxed.

You, who was organizing a chaotic pile of paper, looked up and smiled. "Hey, Potter. You’re right on time for the usual end-of-the-day complaints from your son."

Harry, currently sulking with his backpack, threw up his hands. "They played ring around the rosie today! Do you know how boring that is?!"

You laughed. "What, not exciting enough for you?"

"No!"

James smirked. "That’s tragic, mate."

Harry crossed his arms. "Can we go now or are you gonna talk for twenty years again?"

James cleared his throat. Now or never.

"Actually," he said, looking at you, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime."

You blinked. "What?"

James internally panicked. "Casual coffee. Like—like two people, drinking coffee, talking, existing in the same space—"

You raised an amused eyebrow. "Are you asking me out?"

James wanted to die. "I—I mean—yeah? But, like, you don’t have to—"

You grinned. "James."

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

"I’d love to."

James froze. "Wait. What?"

You smirked. "I said yes, Potter. You good?"

James stared at you, processing, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh. Well. That’s… good. That’s great. That’s—"

Harry groaned. "Finally!"

James turned to him. "Oh, what now?!"

Harry threw his hands up. "It took you forever to ask her! I thought you were never gonna do it!"

You laughed. "Seriously?"

James groaned. "Can’t anything be a secret in this family?"

You just smirked. "Apparently not."

James, still grinning, nodded. "Alright then. Coffee it is."

And for the first time in a long time, James felt something that wasn’t just surviving. He felt happy.

#harry potter #fanfic #marauders era #x reader #x yn #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #wolfstar #sirius and remus #sirius black #remus lupin

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luveline · 1 year ago

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hi jadey! if you are up for it, do you think you could write reader unexpectedly doing smth nice for coworker!james, maybe she’s being kind of shy and trying not to make it a big deal while he’s trying v hard to not be all giggly heart eyes kiss kiss at her LOL thank you in advance and ilysm <3

tysm ilysm <3 fem

“Hey, killer.”

You sidestep past James bag into the nook of your desk. “Killer?” you ask, quick to drop your bag onto your chair and unbutton your coat.

“Beth told me you killed a spider in the break room. That’s not cool.”

“It was looking at me funny.” You shed your coat. “Where’s Remus?”

“Coffee.”

James doesn’t give you half as much attention as you’d wanted, turning back to his computer with an impassive expression. You swallow a cough and grab your bag, desk chair creaking as you sit. There’s a memo from Remus already tacked to your desk that asks you nicely to send him a long list of files, each written in careful print, and then a second that says good morning.

You smile at it and set them aside.

Though James doesn’t like you much, and you’re not totally sold on him, you’re starting to feel like you’re part of a team. It’s a hearty feeling to belong somewhere, to know you’re valuable, even if you’re only punching numbers in and swapping spreadsheets. So you’d seen the green tube boxes in the shops and you’d decided on a whim to get them. Perhaps it would inspire some sweetness from James. If he stops putting your mug in the freezer, you’ll be happy.

“I got you something.”

James tilts his head to the side but doesn’t look up. “Huh?”

The office lights aren’t as complimentary to his brown skin as the sun where it’s rising outside of your window. It warms his face and neck, and lightens the dark mop of his hair, his flyaways like silver scrapings.

You take one of the boxes from your bag and place it on the edge of his desk. You’ll give the second to Remus when he comes back.

“It’s one of your Smiskis,” you say, “but they’re exercise ones. I know you lift weights, there’s one with dumbbells. I want the hula hoop one.”

“Where did you get this?” he asks, looking at you with clear surprise. His thick brows rise. His smile is unmissable.

“They were three for two at Sainsbury’s. I got one for me and one for Remus, as well.”

James curls a lovely hand around the box. You pretend not to watch, quickly diverting your gaze to your bag to grab a Smiski for yourself. You can’t look up, can’t explain why on earth you thought it would be a good idea, really. You saw them and you thought of him and you’re entitled to lie about the two for three thing, it’s none of his business how much money you spend.

You dig your nail into the lid and rip it open.

“You look awfully smiley, Jamie,” Remus greets, approaching from your side to round the desks and place down his big mug of coffee. You chance a glance at the both of them and catch a half second of James’ ridiculous smile. “What made you so happy so early in the morning?”

“Nothing. Uh, just killer over here brought us some presents.” James tips the bag from inside of his box onto the desk mat.

“Really?” Remus asks.

You offer him his box over your monitors.

“Thank you,” he says. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s nothing,” you say with a hurried shake of the head, looking down at your own mystery Smiski. They’re nondescript little people who glow with a green UV sheen, and you hadn’t seen the appeal to begin with, but each morning you make sure to fix James’ if he’s toppled over. He never tells you off for it. “I just want one for myself, that’s all.”

You open them in tandem. Your figurine is sitting with its legs out in a v-shape and arms stretching down to its toes. Remus’ is slightly smaller perched on a yoga ball. James, apparently having all the luck in the world, unveils a Smiski struggling to lift a dumbbell from the ground.

“I love him,” you say with a pleased laugh.

“He’s brilliant,” Remus says.

“Thank you so much.”

Your smile gets caught on your mouth. James’ tone isn’t strange but unfamiliar —he speaks without a hint of irony. His grin is full of an emotion you don’t recognise. Too happy. Too friendly.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

They’re both kind enough to ignore your mild breathlessness. “No, seriously, thank you, she’s so cool. I didn’t know we could get these ones yet over here.” James puts his weightlifting Smiski in pride of place atop his outgoings. “Sirius is going to be jealous. I'm sending him a photo.”

You feel Remus’ eyes on you. He stares until you look at him, eyebrows wriggling. “Thank you for my toy,” he says.

“They’re not toys, lovely Moony, they’re figurines,” James says, leaning down and angling his phone. He snaps a few photos from different positions. He can’t seem to stop smiling. “Aw, look at her. She’s sick as hell. She’s gonna get so swole.”

You wrinkle your nose and sweep your rubbish into the wastebasket. Swole isn’t the word you’d use. Ever. But if it makes him happy…

“This is the best thing that’s happened to me all week,” James mumbles to himself, before clearing his throat extra thoroughly. “This doesn’t change the fact that you killed that poor spider, you know. What was it doing to you?”

“I crushed her by accident opening a cupboard door.”

“Likely story.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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a-magpie-in-gravesfield · 20 days ago

Text

I upgraded my Toon Boom from Advanced to the Premium version and took some lessons to learn the nodes system and THIS IS HARD XD

But it's really interesting and I have to get used to the nodes for work anyway now, so working hard to keep learning ahah. The storyboard images were real deleted boards from the show (so not drawn by me), I have a bunch more but I'm pretty much doing an exercise to re animate some of those deleted boards and I'll see if I can blend them in seamlessly in the show (I also saved some of the music suites from Youtube, so far it's working just fine) I have some voice actors doing dialogue for these too :) The scenes will also have backgrounds, I just haven't drawn them yet.

I wanted to have something I could post before my big episode that could also be an animation exercise from me so my channel isn't dead for almost a year lol. The other one I'm working on now is the alternate version from the "The trees there are green" scene from Eclipse Lake. I'm trying to re animate the movement from the show but changing the dialogue and the poses very slightly to match the storyboards more, I know it's not super creative but it's a really good practice thing to do.

(This one is VERY unfinished still - those hair lines are killing me lmao)

I'm also recording my animating process for these, but also to put as a disclaimer : I'm using the storyboards as a main guide like this but as you can see the boards aren't exactly on model so I'm eyeballing the actual show as reference and I'm re drawing the frames from the show from scratch (I have a ref from the show playing on the side)

So for example here his scars will look like they do in Eclipse Lake and not like they did in the storyboards etc. For the King's Tide one above I kept the line under his eye because I felt like it still worked and also added a lot to the expression

I will post my full process video etc after I finish all those scenes :)

#philip wittebane #emperor belos #belos

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22ayla21 · 2 months ago

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Hi, I see that you started writing for Mashle, i'm starting to watch it as well, and I was wondering if you can do a Mash Burnedead x reader family headcanons or fic, either one? I just think he would be a cute and interesting dad and have some surprisingly wholesome and hilarious moments with his kiddos. It would also be adorable, like seeing him train while holding his kids and sharing his cream puffs with them!! OMG, I love this hilariously stoic man and his cream puffs!!!

"Papa, you're so strong!"

Having become a father, Mash wasn't just a hero to the world, but a hero to his children, with whom he shared cream puffs, training sessions, and sincere moments of happiness.

In a quiet house on the edge of a village, lost among green meadows and drifting clouds, lived an unusual father. He still adored cream puffs, still didn't understand advanced mathematics, and could still punch through a wall if anyone threatened his family. Only now, he didn't just have a family—he had children.

Mash's son had turned five. He already sported the same bangs as his father and often tried to copy his stance—hands at his sides, face without a single emotion. But the moment his mother turned away, he would giggle. His daughter, a year younger, was the complete opposite of her brother. She constantly clung to her father's arm, like a vine, and peppered him with endless questions:

"Papa, why doesn't the sky fall? And if it does, will you lift it back up?"

And Mash, holding her on one arm and his son on the other, would answer completely seriously: "I'll lift it. If it falls, I'll lift it."

Every morning began the same way. Mash would go out into the yard barefoot, in a black tracksuit, with his two children perched on his shoulders like family crests. He would do push-ups, squats, and leg swings—while his son counted:

"One! Two! What's that?"

"Seventy-eight," Mash would say. "Or nine?"

"We lost count," his daughter would sigh. "We have to start over!"

After the exercise came the main event: cream puffs.

"Papa, why do you love them so much?" his daughter once asked, sitting on his lap.

"Because they're soft, sweet, and... they remind me how important it is to enjoy simple things."

"Are you like a pastry yourself?"

"Me?... More like a filled bun. Tough on the outside, soft on the inside."

Mash didn't always know exactly what to say. He didn't know how to explain what duty or the magic of friendship was. But he knew exactly what to do. When his son first fell and scraped his knee, he didn't lecture him, but simply gently picked him up, held him close, and said:

"It'll heal. Just get up."

"And if it doesn't heal?"

"Then I'll carry you. For as long as it takes."

One evening, when the children were scared by thunder, he built them a whole fortress out of pillows and blankets, lay down with them in the middle, and announced with a serious expression:

"This is our magic fortress. The thunder won't reach us here. I've given it a name."

"What is it?"

"'Fortress Cream Puff.'"

"That's silly!" the children laughed.

"It's a powerful name," he countered, handing each of them a cream puff.

Before bed, he would tuck the children into their beds, stroke their hair, and tell them stories. Sometimes about magic. Sometimes about cream puffs that came to life and defended their refrigerator from evil buns.

"We love you, Papa," the children would say in unison.

"..."

"Papa?"

"...Me too."

And in those moments, his usually impassive face would light up with the warmest, most sincere, and slightly goofy smile. Because, despite all the battles and training, Mash Burnedead knew: being a father was the most important thing he had ever done. Even more important than cream puffs.

#mashle x y/n #mashle x you #mashle x reader #mashle #mash burnedead #mash burnedead x reader #mash x reader

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itertarot · 5 months ago

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Quick Tarot Reading | Career

Which Career is the right for you?

Pick a color

One/Black:

My dear pile 1, the ideal profession for you involves teamwork, long-term goals, hierarchy, tradition, creativity, hands-on work, effort, leadership, and rewards for your dedication. You would excel in corporate roles that require planning, meetings, teamwork, and opportunities for career advancement.

- Manager

- Analyst

- Marketing Specialist/Manager

- Director

- Consultant

- Coordinator

Two/Red:

My dear pile 2, the ideal professions for you fall into two distinct groups. The first group involves a strong need to handle conflicts and bring healing. In this case, the ideal professions are:

- Psychiatrist

- Psychologist

- Therapist

- Any profession focused on bringing peace of mind and emotional well-being to those in need.

The second group is highly creative, with extensive talent in the fields of performance and creation. Here, the ideal professions are:

- Theater (actor, director, writer, etc.)

- Cinema (filmmaker, writer, actor, etc.)

Three/Yellow:

You were born to be self-employed, my dear pile 3. The ideal profession for you is one where you are your own boss. You thrive on challenges and need ample space to showcase and exercise your natural creativity. As a born leader, you are destined to carve your own path.

The perfect fit for you is:

- Entrepreneur

Whether it’s starting your own business, launching innovative projects, or leading ventures, entrepreneurship allows you to harness your leadership skills, creativity, and independence to achieve greatness.

Four/Green:

You have a unique gift for bringing new life into what seems lost and destined for failure. You take what is no longer working and transform it into something solid and beautiful. Your ideal profession will bring you great fortune because you bring abundance to everything you touch.

- Restructuring/Restoration Specialist

- Mentor

- Working with NGOs or creating content (like those popupar channels) that earn significant income by helping those in need.

- Entrepreneur who revives failing businesses or properties (e.g., buying bankrupt companies or rundown houses, restoring them, and selling them for profit, like Windy City Rehab Program).

Five/Pink:

My dear pile 5, you are the pile of influencers and trendsetters! Some of you will shine brightly in the world of communication, especially through video content creation. Others will thrive in the beauty industry, whether by working in or owning your own beauty clinic. Additionally, some of you will excel in the fashion world, working with clothing and dictating trends. A few of you may even find yourselves collaborating with luxury brands and luxury bags.

- Content Creator/Influencer

- Beauty Specialist (esthetician, makeup artist, or owning a beauty clinic)

- Fashion Professional (stylist, designer, or trend forecaster)

- Luxury Brand Collaborator (working with or representing high-end brands)

#cartomancy #divination #tarot reader #tarot reading #tarot readings #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarot spread #tarot #tarotblr #pick a photo #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card

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steelbluehome · 3 months ago

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From Fear and Loathing: Closer to the Edge on Facebook

Heading to a “Hands Off!” protest this Saturday? Here’s everything you need to know — your rights, safety tips, and what to do if arrested.

On Saturday, April 5, people across the United States will gather for a coordinated day of resistance. From major cities to small towns, the “Hands Off!” protests are about drawing a hard line — against political overreach, creeping authoritarianism, and policies that strip away our rights and dignity.

Whether you’re marching in New York City, Dallas, Chicago, or a rural square in Nebraska, your presence matters. So does your preparation.

Here’s your nationwide guide to showing up — and staying safe while doing it.

KNOW YOUR RIGHTS (AND WRITE THEM ON YOUR ARM)

Before you arrive: Write the local legal support hotline number on your arm in permanent marker. In many cities, National Lawyers Guild (NLG) chapters will operate hotlines and send legal observers.

Say: “I am exercising my right to remain silent. I want a lawyer.”

Ask: “Am I being detained or am I free to go?”

If detained, remain silent.

If not, walk away calmly.

Legal observers (often in green hats/vests) are there to document police behavior — not to represent you legally. You can notify them if you witness abuse or misconduct.

WHAT TO BRING

Pack like you’re staying awhile and planning for anything:

Water and snacks

Face mask, hand sanitizer, and sunscreen

Phone with passcode lock (NOT Face ID/fingerprint)

External battery pack

Cash (for food, transit, emergencies)

Printed emergency contacts

Comfortable shoes, weather-appropriate clothing

Goggles or saline drops (in case of tear gas, depending on region)

Don’t bring:

Weapons (or anything that could be construed as one)

Illegal substances

Anything you wouldn’t want seized or photographed by law enforcement

STAY SAFE, STAY CALM, STAY NON-VIOLENT

Stick together. Stay with your group. Have a plan if separated.

Avoid confrontation. Ignore counter-protesters and agitators.

Film what matters. You have the legal right to record public events, including police activity — but don’t interfere.

De-escalate when possible. Your goal is to be heard, not baited.

Watch your surroundings. Know where you are and how to exit if needed.

If arrested:

Don’t resist.

Don’t talk beyond name and birthdate.

Wait for a lawyer.

Don’t sign anything without legal counsel.

PROTECT YOUR DATA

Phones are tools — and vulnerabilities.

Turn off Face ID and fingerprint unlock. Use a passcode.

Consider airplane mode during risky moments.

Back up photos/videos or use live stream apps like Instagram or Twitch to preserve footage.

Use encrypted messaging apps like Signal.

RESOURCES BY REGION

While every city differs, these national orgs often have local chapters or partners at major protests:

National Lawyers Guild: nlg.org

ACLU: aclu.org/know-your-rights

Mutual Aid Networks: Search “[Your City] Mutual Aid”

Bail Funds Directory: bailfunds.github.io

Legal Hotlines: Often listed on local protest pages or announced by organizers day-of

TRANSPORT + ACCESSIBILITY

Plan ahead: Some roads and transit lines may close or reroute.

Carpool or take transit when possible.

If you need ADA accommodations, contact local organizers in advance or ask staff at arrival points.

THIS IS BIGGER THAN A MARCH

This isn’t just a protest. It’s a warning flare — and a promise. That we won’t stand by while our rights are stripped. That we won’t let apathy win. That we see what’s happening — and we’re not afraid to raise hell, peacefully and powerfully.

So come prepared.

Come together.

And don’t let them scare you into silence.

Stay safe. Stay loud.

#april 5th #protest #hands off #us politics #usa politics #stay safe #protest safely #hands off protest #april 5 2025

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wooziorgans · 9 months ago

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Woozi as a doctor??? Giving massages? New gose hits hard

— physical therapist!woozi

god he’s SO HOT HELP.

warnings: reader was in a car accident. jihoon definitely violates some,,, things. moderate medical malpractice (getting dicked down during an appointment). unprotected sex. mild ass play. not medically accurate i have no idea how this shit works. DONT TRY N SEDUCE UR DOCTORS!!!

after you hydroplaned on the highway, totalling your car, your insurance (surprisingly) opted to cover your physical therapy.

and by god if you weren’t going milk that opportunity for all it was worth.

that’s how you found yourself at a holistic physical therapy clinic. the highest rated one in busan, being seen by their best doctor.

“doctor lee will see you now.” the receptionist smiled at you. the green walls of the clinic were earthy and warm. the general vibe was quite comforting and pleasant; it’s the kind of place you’d want to get better in. your knee clicks uncomfortably as you walk.

you push the door open to his office, and out of everything you could’ve expected, you didn’t expect to see a young man, barely into his thirties with his sleeves rolled up and rimless glasses sitting on his face. his grown out dark hair frames his face perfectly, and on first impression, the only thing you notice about him is how undeniably handsome he is.

“you must be my four o’clock. y/n?” his voice is low and kind, his smile wide on his face. he speaks with the regions dialect, and though you’re used to it, it makes something inside of you twist. you swallow nervously.

“yes, that’s me.” your own smile is tight.

“i’m doctor lee, but please call me jihoon. the doctor title makes me feel old. have a seat.” he gestures laughing quietly, and you take a seat in the large leather chair. he pulls up a stool to sit next to you. “from what i can see from your chart, you were in a car accident?” jihoon asks carefully.

you nod, unable to look at him. “i see. and you had some torn ligaments that healed, but now you’re having issues with mobility and have some clicking in your left hip and knee, correct?” his voice is so soft and careful, and you can immediately get the impression that he cares about his patients. that’s probably why he’s the top rated doctor in all of busan.

“yeah. uh, i definitely shouldn’t be in this much pain after two months so i went to my doctor and he referred me here.” you laugh nervously. jihoon smiles at you reassuringly.

“well, how about i get you to stand up for me so i can do an assessment and i’ll see what i can do for you?” you nod, standing, and jihoon starts to scan over your body. he immediately starts to take you in, eyes analyzing your lower half. “is it okay if i touch you? just to see your hip alignment?” he asks, crouching down to the ground.

“yeah.” the doctors hands find your hips soon after. he squeezes and pokes, asks repeatedly if the pressure of his touch hurts you at all. his hands move down the side of your legs to your knees where he does the same thing

“from what i can see, your hip alignment is off. same with your knee. it would be a relatively easy fix, but because of your torn ligaments we have to be more careful. i think the best plan of action is to go over some exercises for you to do at home and then we’ll go over what needs to be done when you’re here.” the doctor sits back down on his stool as he gestures for you to take a seat again.

jihoon jumps right into it, directing you in various exercises to help with your mobility. he talks to you the whole time, asking about your accident, what you do for work, if you’ve lived in busan your whole life. you answer him earnestly, still a little shy because of the situation your in.

you never were fond of doctors, and jihoon seems to pick up on that as he keeps the conversation light and comfortable. he moved you to a big table, and has you lay down so he can work on your hip.

“this might hurt. i’m sorry in advance. it should just be a lot of pressure.” his hands press lightly against your hip at first as he lets you adjust to the pressure. then his whole body weight comes down in the same spot, and you yelp loudly, biting your lip as you try not to swear.

he chuckles softly, body still leaning over you so his voice is right in your ear. “don’t worry, this room is sound proof.” you laugh through the pain, but the relief feels almost immediate. your hip isn’t as stiff.

jihoon continues working on you until the end of your session, and when you stand you feel a little lighter. he smiles at you, wishing you well for the week.

and so your first session ends with doctor lee, and you leave his office with a stack of papers and another appointment booked for next week.

session after session with jihoon, your body starts to return to how it was before your accident.

the appointments are comfortable, and after six months, you’re able to joke around with your doctor. maybe it’s because he’s quite young, and you’re young, that his conversation begins to feel natural.

it feels like you’re almost friends, meeting up once a week to hang out while he abuses you in ways that have you cursing and calling him colourful names. he always laughs it off, knows not to take anything you say too personally.

jihoon is a good doctor, but him being hot is posing quite the issue. you can’t help but stare at his exposed forearms when you enter his office. jihoon pretends not to notice, but over the few months he’s been working on you, he can’t help how interesting he finds you. and beautiful.

he thinks you’re beautiful too.

“you’re doing a lot better, y/n.” jihoon smiles at you, and you smile back, feeling the change in your body. you flex your knee as if to test his words, and the bones don’t grind uncomfortably. “honestly, i think we only have about a month left of sessions together. and then you’ll be free of me.” you roll your eyes at him.

“oh no. whatever will i do?” you jest. he laughs.

“don’t go and get yourself injured again just to spend time with me.” he flicks through your chart. “is your back pain getting any better? i thought i was from your hip but it might be something else.” his eyebrows are furrowed, glasses slipping down his nose as he scans over the sheets of paper attached to his clip board.

“it’s migrated lower. i think it’s my tail bone but i don’t know.” you offer. he’s the doctor, but you know your body. jihoon told you that a few sessions in; that your opinion mattered to the direction of your treatment.

“you mind if i check? if that’s the case it’ll be a quick adjustment. it’s possible it got jacked up when you messed up your hip.” he’s teasing you, about to call you old, which is almost ironic considering he’s in his thirties, and you’re not. you just shake your head at him, climbing up onto the table you’ve grown so familiar with.

jihoon presses lightly at the bottom of your spine, carefully pushing your hoodie up to directly feel the contour of your bones. he sighs. “i’m gonna have to move your sweats out of that way to check your tailbone. the fabrics too thick for me to really feel it. this okay?” you feel his fingers hook under the band of your sweats and you nod, humming softly as you push away any and all unholy thoughts you’re having right now.

jihoon pulls both your sweatpants and underwear down, to the middle of your ass. the elastic band keeps them down as two of his fingers trail lower down your back. you shiver, and jihoon does a good job at ignoring it as his fingers dip in between your ass cheeks. he presses down on the tip of your tailbone and you flinch.

“oh, yeah. that’s not supposed to feel like that.” he sighs, gently rubbing over the bone with his fingers. “it’s sticking out too much. i think you dislocated it.”

“y-you can dislocate a tailbone?” you stutter. his fingers are far too low for comfort.

“yes. you said you fell when you were doing your knee exercises. that’s probably how.” jihoon’s fingers graze over the bone carefully, and you shiver again. this causes his fingers to slide further down, tips brushing over the tight muscle of your asshole.

both you and jihoon freeze. he doesn’t know what to do so he removes his hand and says nothing. he cracks his fingers softly. “adjustment time.” he speaks lowly as he places his hand flat on your ass. one of his knees finds itself between your legs as he braces himself to make the adjustment.

its procedure. he’s done this dozens of times before, but something feels different this time. jihoon’s knee presses against the bottom of your ass, dangerously close to your core as he presses down.

the initial adjustment makes you yelp in pain before you laugh it off. “good. one more.” he praises, and if he doesn’t stop talking in that low tone you’re going to end up soaking this table.

the second adjustment rocks your hips into the table, moving your whole body up and then back down. he accidentally grinds you against his knee, and the table, and the sound you make this time is strained and breathy. an involuntary moan falls from your lips as you close your eyes. jihoon freezes again. “y/n? what was that?” he asks carefully. he knows what it was.

“i- uh, i didn’t mean to- fuck.” your voice is suddenly whiny, and that’s when it fully clicks.

“oh.” jihoon briefly removes his hands from your ass, before he palms one of your cheeks. “i see.” he squeezes carefully. you arch into his touch, and though you can’t see him, he smirks.

“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to react like that. it’s just—” jihoon’s other hand finds your other cheek as he pulls your sweats down a little further.

you’re still trying to defend yourself, maintain professional integrity for him, even though you’ve been painfully obvious in the way you stare at him and check him out. “please forgive me if i’ve read into this wrong, but i’m under the impression that you’re into me. is that correct?” jihoon leans down, right next to your ear as he speaks. his breath hits your neck and you shiver. you nod. “good, because it’s been absolute torture having to work on your hips with this ass on display for me every single week.” he rubs your ass with both hands, leaning down further to kiss your neck softly.

you whine, leaning into his touch. his lips are soft against your neck as he pecks at it lightly. “jihoon,” you whine softly, hands gripping at nothing.

“do you want this?” he pulls away from your neck to ask you. you whine out a yes, and jihoon flips you over onto your back in one quick motion.

you gasp at the sheer strength of him. it’s not entirely shocking, not when you’ve seen his forearms out at every single appointment. but he’s far stronger than you expected. jihoon slides off the table, towering over you. you lean up, grabbing at the collar of his shirt to pull him down to kiss you.

the kiss is electric, full of tongue and spit as all the weeks of checking each other out come to a head. you tug at the belt loops on his slacks, hands sliding over his leather belt. jihoon chuckles against your lips, pulling you to sit up before he unfastens his belt.

jihoon slides himself in between your legs, thigh pressing against your core as you grind against him. he pulls his belt free from his pants, popping the button on his pressed slacks as he continues to lick into your mouth. you whine against his lips and he chuckles softly, undoing his zipper. he pushes his pants down to his ankles, not bothering to step out of them as he manhandles you back into the padded table.

“lay back for me, baby.” he purrs, lips leaving yours to find your neck again. you do as he says, resting your weight on your elbows so you can get a better look at him. with strong hands, his lifts your legs up, grabbing the band of your sweats which had slipped further down your ass with all the movement. he pulls them down to your knees, pushing your thighs apart as he watches the way your pussy seems to throb in the cool air of his office.

jihoon swears under his breath as he licks his fingers to run them over your folds. you whine, eyes closing and jihoon tuts. “look at me.” you do as he says, watching him as he pushes two fingers inside of you. “so fucking wet for me.” he curses as your body pulls his fingers inside with ease.

he fuck you with two digits, watching your reactions carefully, drinking in every single moan and whine you try to silence. as much as he’d love to make you cum on his fingers, your time is quite constrained with your hour appointment, so he pulls them out, sticking them in his own mouth to lick them clean.

jihoon moans around his fingers, using his other hand to pull his boxers down and give his cock a few lazy strokes. your knees block the view, so you look to the side to see him touching himself. his cock is large and thick in his hand, and your mouth waters at the sight of it.

jihoon smirks, stepping forward a few steps to rub his tip through your folds. you whine, breathy pants the only sound you’re capable of making. “god, just fuck me. please.” you plead, and jihoon smirks again but listens to you.

jihoon lines himself up and pushes his tip in. the stretch burns, so he gives you a few moments to adjust. “so fucking big, my god.” you hiss, lip between your teeth as you adjust to the stretch of him. when you give him a silent nod to go ahead and move, he pushes in further, sheathing his cock in your warm walls.

jihoon hisses, eyes fluttering shut. he pushes his glasses back up on his face, hand anchoring down on the back of your thigh as he slides back out. his face is flushed as he pants. you’re so warm and wet; he won’t last long. “you’re so tight, baby. fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” he pants, thrusting back into you.

he sets a fast pace, the sound of skin on skin echoing through out his office. you’re barely there; hardly coherent as his thick cock drags against your walls, his tip brushing against your spot with each thrust.

jihoon’s thumb flattens down on your clit, and it’s too much. you pull him back down for a kiss, which he returns eagerly, as your walls tighten around him. you moan into his mouth, hand finding his hair to pull him in closer. his thumb rubs circles over the swollen nerve and you shudder as a long moan leaves your lips.

you cum around his cock, the added wetness help him slide into you to fuck you through your orgasm. you tighten around him impossibly more, and that sends jihoon over the edge.

his hips stutter as he cums inside of you. he pants against your mouth, sighing contentedly as he comes down with you. his cock slips out of you once the final drop is milked from his cock, and he plants a delicate kiss to your forehead.

jihoon’s quick to pull his boxers and slacks back up as you catch your breath. he massages your thigh carefully, watching the way his cum slowly leaks out of you and drips onto the padded table. “c’mon baby. let me help you get your pants back up.” your sweats are still at your knees, and you comply, lifting you hips for him to pull them back over your ass. you sigh, unable to look at him.

jihoon leaves you to go to his desk, pulling out a business card and a pen as he writes something down on it. “we’re almost out of time for today, but call me before our next appointment. i’d like to take you to dinner.” he presents the card to you with two fingers, and you take it hesitantly before you nod and get off the table. “i’m serious. it’ll be a date. if you want.” your lack of response seems to have jihoon on edge.

you smile softly at his sudden nerves. “i’d like that. thank you.” you grab your bag and head out of his office without turning back. you don’t see jihoon punch the air in victory.

“well. looks like our time here is up. you’ve been a lovely patient.” jihoon smiles, clip board in hand.

“it’s been a pleasure, doctor lee.” you smirk, finger trailing over his collar bone through his shirt.

“oh, don’t you start.” he scoffs, but he’s smiling at you fondly, cheeks on full display as his eyes crinkle.

“we’re still on for dinner at seven, right?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“of course, love. i’ll pick you up. i was thinking about a movie and maybe a back massage at my place after? if you’re okay with that.” jihoon can’t take his eyes off you.

“you know i’m always down for a back massage from you.” you peck his cheek.

“i swear you just use me for my physical therapy perks.” he rolls his eyes at you fondly.

“maybe i do.” your boyfriend laughs before he kisses you softly.

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sadnymi · 11 months ago

Text

August p2

[Mattheo riddle x reader] [part-one]

Summary: all y/n wanted is to love and to be loved to see the beauty of the world and to be happy even if that's mean she will have to hide away, until that summer the summer she talked to mattheo riddle.

Words: 9k

Warnings:, Angst , fluff, strong language, light smut.

It was like I found myself in the middle—I couldn't go back to what I was and I still couldn't move forward. There was only one thing on my mind: anger, anger, anger, anger.

My thoughts broke as I heard Professor Snape assigning us to pairs for a dueling exercise. I lifted my head from my book and found a pair of green eyes on me—Betty. She was watching me so intently that she didn’t notice I saw her staring. When she realized, she shook her head and looked away, her hands trembling.

"Miss Y/L/N," Professor Snape called my name, and I got up, walking to stand behind him, waiting for him to call the other student I would have to duel.

"And. Riddle, come please," Professor Snape said.

My expression remained unchanged, though my heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest. My anxiety was high, my blood pressure rising, and the anger—the endless anger—but I stayed calm, looking unbothered, like a frozen child. It was an art I was well-versed in, thanks to my father.

Everyone gasped and couldn't stop talking. I looked up to meet his brown eyes, the eyes I told myself I hated every day to remind myself of their betrayal.

I didn’t look away. I met his gaze head-on, staring straight into his eyes as if trying to pierce his soul. He didn't deserve my avoidance; he deserved to feel my anger.

Professor Snape spoke—at least I guess he did—but my mind was elsewhere. All I could think about was anger and anger and anger, water drops and brown eyes, betrayal.

Mattheo stepped back, taking his place, and I did the same. I raised my wand, but he kept his lowered. I looked him in the eyes and cast the first spell. He dodged it but didn’t fight back. He wasn’t trying to fight.

My anger grew. I moved faster, casting spells more quickly and aggressively. He kept dodging but never retaliated.

I could see the way Professor Snape looked at him, and the way Mattheo’s friends called out to him, urging him to defend himself. But he didn’t. He just kept dodging, fueling my rage.

"Fight back, you fucking coward!" I yelled, angry, but he didn’t.

With a swift flick of my wand, I disarmed him, sending his wand flying across the room. up in alarm as I advanced on him, faster and angrier. I hit him in the chest.

"Coward, fucking coward," I said. Professor Snape called my name, but I didn’t stop.

I hit him again. "Selfish, arrogant, deceitful," I continued, my words venomous.

Professor Snape finally pulled me away. "You always made everything about you, Riddle, didn’t you?" I screamed.

"Miss Y/L/N," Professor Snape began, his tone icy. "This behavior is unacceptable. You will serve detention for this outburst."

I glared at Mattheo. "Oh, believe me, I have nothing better to do,"

One of the students, a Slytherin boy named Mark, snickered and muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Guess Riddle's got a soft spot for Backup girl."

I looked at him sharply. No—don’t—just go away—hide, Y/N, hide. Don’t let them see you. That’s enough. No.

I stepped forward, my voice steady. "Say it again, Mark."

He looked taken aback, but his bravado held. "I said, Riddle's got a soft spot for Backup girl."

"You know," I said, my voice cutting through the air, "I’ve been quiet, but not blind. And I didn’t have much to do this summer but sit at the beach and watch. And I watched a lot."

I turned to look at the faces around me, the same faces that had called me a slut, a whore, a homewrecker. They were all watching me now, some with curiosity, others with apprehension.

"I could say that one of you sitting there cheated on her boyfriend with all three of his friends, and they’re sitting right next to him right now. But I didn’t, did I? Should I?"

The room filled with gasps and whispers, eyes darting around to see who I was talking about.

"And I could say that one of you had a very interesting make-out session with his stepmother this summer. But I won’t do that." I paused, looking around. "Hint: he’s a Hufflepuff. Go with that. And wow, didn’t know you had that in you, if I’m being honest."

I saw more shock and outrage spread through the crowd, people trying to figure out who I meant. I continued, enjoying their discomfort.

"I could tell you that another one of you, who’s sitting there looking all innocent, spent the entire summer sneaking out at night to hook up with their best friend’s boyfriend. And yet another had an affair with their cousin’s fiancé, not caring about the wedding that was about to happen. Should I go on?"

The whispers grew louder, people trying to piece together the gossip. Professor Snape called my name again, more harshly this time, but I ignored him, taking a step back.

The room was buzzing now, everyone trying to figure out who the guilty parties were. I could see the fear and anger in their eyes.

"Maybe it’s time for everyone to stop judging others and take a good look at themselves. Maybe next time, you should think twice before you start throwing stones."

Professor Snape finally reached me, his hand gripping my arm tightly. "Enough, Miss Y/L/N. That’s quite enough, you will go to Professor Dumbledore’s office immediately."

"Of course, Professor."

I walked out, glaring at Mattheo on my way. There was a ghost of a smile on his face, and I wanted to smack it off. I wanted to say more, to hurt him, to make him feel the same agony tearing through my soul.

A week had passed, and the gossip had finally died down. The whispers and judgmental stares began to fade. The looks of disdain I received whenever I walked down the corridors diminished. It was as if everyone had finally moved on to the next scandal.

I was sitting alone under a tree in the courtyard, trying to read a book but barely absorbing the words. The shadow of someone approaching made me glance up. It was Enzo. He sat down next to me with a casual smile. "Hi, Y/N."

I didn't respond, keeping my eyes on the page.

"Okay, I get it. You hate me too now," he said, sighing dramatically.

I still didn't acknowledge him. He tried again, "Y/N, I’m—"

"Unwelcome," I cut him off sharply, closing my book with a snap. "Now leave."

He chuckled "Ouch, that stings. You know, that cold shoulder of yours is kinda cute," he said, leaning back on his hands. "I always did like a challenge."

I rolled my eyes but didn’t respond, unwilling to engage.

"I won't defend my brother. Even I didn't know it was a break. It seemed serious, and I really thought they broke up this time. Honestly, I wished they did."

I finally looked up at him, my expression guarded.

He continued,"Mattheo and Betty have known each other their entire lives. She was always there for him, and he for her. They faced the darkness of our world together, and I think somewhere along the way, the lines blurred between them. They hurt each other in ways no one else could. They always break up and then get back together within a week. It’s a fucked-up situation, and they keep running it into the ground, thinking they're saving it. Maybe they don't want to lose each other, but that isn’t love. It’s—"

"It doesn’t matter," I interrupted. "He knows, and that’s enough."

"I didn’t know it was just a break, but I was angry because I didn’t think he should get involved with someone else so soon after."

I glanced up, catching sight of Mattheo standing a short distance away, watching us. His eyes bore into mine, intense and filled with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. He then shifted his gaze to Enzo, and I felt a surge of tension, almost palpable in the air. Mattheo’s expression was a mix of anger and something deeper, more primal. His presence was overpowering, and for a moment, I felt heat creep up my neck.

Enzo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But Mattheo... He’s not the villain in this story either. He’s complicated, broken even. And I can’t say what he did was right, but he’s— he’s not as heartless as you think there’s more ."

I glanced up again, and Mattheo was still watching us, his gaze burning.

"But he’s never been happier," Enzo finished, his words hanging in the air.

"Never been happier," Enzo repeated softly, his eyes searching mine. "It means something, doesn’t it? Despite everything, it means something."

"i have to go , but thanks Enzo," I said softly, walking away without looking back.

As I made my way toward the dormitory, I felt a presence behind me. My grip tightened on my bag, and I quickened my pace, hoping to outdistance whoever it was. But the footsteps behind me only grew louder and more determined.

Adrian Pucey appeared, sauntering over with that cocky grin Slytherins seem to be born with. "Well, well, if it isn’t the infamous Y/N Y/L/N," he said, falling into step beside me as I made my way to my dorm. "Mind if I join you?"

I didn’t answer, keeping my eyes forward, hoping he’d take the hint and leave me alone.

"Silent treatment, huh?" Adrian said with a chuckle, clearly not deterred. "You know, that only makes me more interested."

I sighed, quickening my pace slightly. "Go away, Pucey."

But of course, he didn’t. Slytherins never could take a hint. He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I’ve always had a thing for girls who don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’ve certainly got everyone talking."

I ignored him, still refusing to look up.

"Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that," Adrian pressed, his tone light and teasing. "You’re just going to walk away and let me bore you? I thought you were more fun than that."

Finally, I lost my patience. I stopped dead in my tracks, spinning on my heel to face him. In one swift motion, I pulled out my wand and pressed it under his chin. "I said, go away."

Adrian didn’t flinch; in fact, his grin widened. "You know, you’re even more beautiful when you’re angry."

I rolled my eyes, about to push him away for good, but then Adrian said something that caught me off guard. "For what it’s worth, I don’t give a damn about what they’re saying at school. People talk; it’s what they do. But I prefer forming my own opinions."

I paused, the wand still under his chin, studying his face. He looked sincere, in his own way—at least as sincere as a Slytherin could be.

"And what’s your opinion, then?" I asked.

"That you’re more interesting than any of them. And that I’d rather be here getting cursed by you than be anywhere else."

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. It wasn’t the reaction I expected, but something about his audacity and the ridiculousness of the situation just got to me.

Adrian raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with himself. "See? I knew you had a sense of humor."

I shook my head, lowering my wand. "You’re insufferable, Pucey."

He took a step back, giving me a mock bow. "Thank you, I try."

Despite myself, I found the corners of my mouth twitching into a smile.

There was something disarming about him, and from that moment on, we fell into a sort of reluctant friendship. He had a knack for making me laugh when I least expected it, and I found myself tolerating his presence more than I would have admitted.

Days passed and we get even more closer he was the first friend I ever had besides Riddle ( we agree not to talk about him in this house).

It was strange, almost welcome, having someone who didn’t treat me like I was fragile or a pariah. As much as I hated to admit it, Adrian’s lightheartedness was exactly what I needed, a distraction from the complicated mess my life had become.

Adrian caught up to me in the corridor, a smug grin plastered on his face. "Y/N, you’re not going to believe what happened last night," he said, his voice full of mischief.

I didn’t slow my pace, only glancing at him briefly before looking ahead again. "Do I even want to know?"

He laughed, clearly delighted by my disinterest. "I hooked up with a Gryffindor."

I raised an eyebrow, not bothering to hide my skepticism. "Congratulations. I’m sure that’s a new personal best for you."

He opened his mouth but I was faster, already knowing where this was going. “Adrian, you don’t need to broadcast every conquest.”

He rolled his eyes at my sarcasm but didn’t seem bothered by it. "Stop walking for a second. I need to see your reaction when I say the next part."

I sighed, finally coming to a halt and turning to face him. "Fine, what is it?"

Adrian leaned in, his grin widening as if he was about to reveal the juiciest piece of gossip. "Haven’t you heard? Your pretty boy and—"

I cut him off, correcting him for what felt like the millionth time. "He’s not my boy, Adrian. And for your information, if he heard you calling him 'pretty boy,' he’d cut your tongue out."

Adrian laughed, not at all intimidated. "Not if I used 'your' before it."

"He’s not my boy," I repeated firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. "And he has a girlfriend too, so that’s disrespectful."

"Dammit, if you’d just listen for once," Adrian said, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. "And you say you’re a good listener."

"I am a good listener."

"Good listener, my ass," Adrian muttered, shaking his head. "Anyway, back to what I was trying to say—Riddle and Betty broke up."

His words hung in the air, and I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. "What?"

"They broke up," Adrian repeated, more slowly this time, as if I hadn’t heard him the first time.

For a moment, I felt a pang of confusion, but then Enzo’s words echoed in my mind, along with what everyone always said about them.

"They always do, Adrian. Give them a week."

He cut me off this time, his tone more serious. "No, they did break up. For good this time. She was kissing Cedric last night, so it’s official. They’re done. I don’t know how people do that—stay friends with their exes."

I blinked, processing his words,but I kept my expression neutral. "You’re still friends with half of your exes."

Adrian shrugged, not missing a beat. "And I never said it’s a good thing."

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head at his honesty. "You’re a piece of work, Pucey."

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. "I try. Speaking of which, there’s a big game this week. You should come see me practice. I want to show off a bit. Everyone else has a girlfriend in the stands—I want to prove I’m at least capable of getting my friend to watch."

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicious of his intentions. "You’re just trying to get me and Mattheo in the same place, aren’t you?"

He chuckled, unashamed. "A little scheming never hurt anyone. But no, I really do want my friend there."

I hesitated, not really wanting to get involved, but Adrian’s persistence was hard to ignore. "I don’t know, Adrian…"

"Come on, Y/N," he coaxed, his tone playful but with a hint of sincerity. "It’ll be fun, and I could use the support. Plus, you can make fun of me if I screw up. It’s a win-win."

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Fine. But don’t expect me to cheer or anything."

Adrian’s grin grew wider. "Deal. I knew I could count on you."

After classes, I made my way to the Quidditch pitch, feeling a bit out of place as I climbed the stands to watch the practice. It wasn’t something I usually did, and the familiar tension in my chest was a reminder that I was here because of Adrian’s persistence, not because I actually wanted to be.

I settled into a seat, scanning the field. It didn’t take long for Adrian to spot me. He grinned widely, waving enthusiastically from his broom. I couldn’t help but wave back, but my eyes weren’t really on him—they were on Mattheo.

He was standing off to the side, his broom in hand, looking between me and Adrian with a gaze that made my heart skip a beat. His jaw clenched, his expression darkening the moment he noticed me there. The intensity in his eyes was undeniable, and I could feel the weight of his stare even from across the pitch.

The practice started, but it felt like it was just background noise to the tension simmering between us. Every time I glanced down, Mattheo’s eyes were on me, glaring with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. I tried to focus on the game, on the way Adrian was zipping around the field, but my attention kept drifting back to Mattheo. The way his muscles tensed, the way his grip on his broom tightened—it was clear that something was brewing under the surface.

And then it happened. As the players flew around, Mattheo’s aggression grew, particularly toward Adrian. Every move he made was sharper, more forceful, like he was aiming to prove something. Adrian noticed it too and finally had enough. After one particularly hard shove from Mattheo during a pass.

"What’s your problem, Riddle?" Adrian snapped, his voice loud enough to cut through the sounds of the practice.

Mattheo’s response was a slow, sinister smirk, the kind that sent a chill down my spine. "You’re in my way, Pucey," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

Adrian narrowed his eyes. "What’s the matter, can’t handle a little competition? Or is it something else?"

The coach called out their names, warning them to get back in the game, but neither of them listened. The tension between them was palpable, thickening the air around us.

Their friends, Theo, Enzo, and even Draco, walked over, trying to diffuse the situation, but it was clear Mattheo wasn’t in the mood for peace.

"Careful, Riddle," Adrian taunted, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. "Wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re losing your edge."

Mattheo’s smirk widened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "Maybe you should keep that big mouth of yours shut before I shut it for you."

Before anyone could react, Mattheo’s fist connected with Adrian’s face, sending him reeling backward. The blow was quick and brutal, and Adrian barely had time to recover before Mattheo hit him again, this time with his broom handle, right across the jaw.

Adrian staggered, blood dripping from his lip, but he still managed to look up at Mattheo with a defiant grin. "That all you got?"

Mattheo didn’t reply with words. His eyes gleamed with that same dark amusement as he struck Adrian again, this time even harder. The crack of the impact echoed across the pitch, drawing gasps from the other players.

"Enough!" the coach roared, finally reaching them and shoving the two apart. "Both of you, out of here, now!"

Adrian wiped the blood from his mouth, glaring at Mattheo. "Always knew you were a psycho, Riddle," he muttered under his breath.

Mattheo just smirked again, his eyes briefly flicking up to meet mine before he turned and walked off the pitch, leaving chaos in his wake.

I sat on the common room sofa, gently pressing a cold ice pack against Adrian’s bruised cheek. His face scrunched up in pain, and he let out a frustrated groan. "For fuck’s sake, Y/N, he’s crazy."

"Yeah, so I noticed," I muttered, not really looking at him.

Adrian smirked, despite the pain. "He was jealous. I know it." His grin widened. "How cute is that, huh? Jealous over our friendship, baby?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "You’re so delusional, Pucey."

He winced as I pushed the ice pack a bit too firmly against his cheek. "Ouch! Careful, you’re supposed to be helping, not making it worse."

"Maybe if you stopped running your mouth, you wouldn’t be in this situation," I shot back, pushing him away.

He clutched his chest dramatically. "Oh, the betrayal! First Riddle, now you! And after I took a beating for you ? I’m wounded, Y/N."

Shaking my head, I stood up. "You’ll live."

I left the common room, needing to clear my head. The hallways were mostly empty, the late hour ensuring that most students were either in their common rooms or asleep. I walked with purpose, looking for him.

It didn’t take long to find Mattheo. He was outside, leaning against the cold stone wall, a cigarette between his fingers. The flame from his lighter flickered as he lit it, the orange glow briefly illuminating his face. He looked up when he heard my footsteps, his eyes darkening with recognition.

I didn’t hesitate. I marched right up to him and slapped him across the face.

Mattheo’s head snapped to the side, but when he looked back at me, he was smiling—almost as if he was amused. He licked his lower lip, that dangerous smirk still playing on his mouth. "Nice to see you too, darling."

I glared at him, my hand still stinging. "What the hell is wrong with you, Riddle? You think you can just go around punching people because you’re pissed off?"

He chuckled softly, taking another drag from his cigarette. "I think you’re overreacting. Pucey can handle himself."

"I don’t care about you or your bullshit. But you better stay away from me and my friends."

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. "Your friends?" he echoed, a mocking tone to his voice. "Or just Adrian?"

I froze for a split second, then recovered. "Stay away from Adrian."

His expression darkened, jealousy flaring in his eyes. "So, it’s Adrian now, is it?" His voice was low, dangerous. "He’s not good for you."

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. "And who is, Mattheo? You?"

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing. I shook my head, trying to push past him. "I can’t even look at your face right now."

Before I could get far, he grabbed my hand, pulling me back with enough force to spin me around and shove me against the cold stone wall. My breath caught as the rough surface bit into my back.

His face was inches from mine, his grip on my wrist firm but not painful. "You don’t get it, do you?" His voice was low, dangerous, but there was a desperate edge to it that I hadn’t expected. "Adrian is a womanizer. He’s got a new girl every week, Y/N. Is that the kind of friend you want?"

I scoffed, yanking my wrist out of his grasp. "And you’re any better?You’re no saint."

Mattheo’s eyes flashed with something dark, and he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. "No I’m not."

I stared at him, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions in his eyes. He was so angry, so desperate to convince me that Adrian was bad for me.

"And he has a small dick," Mattheo muttered, almost as if it was an afterthought.

I blinked, my brain struggling to catch up with what he’d just said. "What?"

Mattheo’s expression didn’t change. "You heard me. He’s got a small dick."

I stared at him, utterly baffled. "How do you even know that?"

He shrugged, his tone completely nonchalant. "Changing room. We play on the same team remember?"

I couldn’t believe this conversation was actually happening. "Mattheo, what the actual fuck? I don’t want to talk about my friend’s dick. That’s just… weird."

But Mattheo didn’t respond, his eyes still locked on mine, his gaze piercing through the tension that hung between us. I could feel my breath hitch in my chest, and when I finally spoke, my voice was low and strained. "You’re starting," I said, the weight of our past heavy in my words.

He nodded, his voice equally subdued. "I’m starting."

I tried to push him away, desperate to put some distance between us, but he caught my wrist gently, his touch both tender and firm.

"I wish I didn’t stop that night and left you on that road."

Mattheo didn’t blink, didn’t try to interrupt me. He just stood there, absorbing every word like a punch to the gut.

"Do you know what happens to people like me when they get their hopes up? They pay. And I did."

The pain of those days, of that heartbreak, surged back, choking me as I tried to continue.

"No one blamed you. No one called you the things they called me. And I—" My voice cracked, and I couldn’t bring myself to finish. The words were too heavy, too raw.

"I lied," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

"I know you—" I began, but he cut me off, his words coming out in a rush.

"No, I lied when I said I knew we were on a break. We weren’t. It was really over. I lied to you that day in my house. That was the only time I lied to you," he said, and for a brief moment, I almost believed him. But then I remembered everything—the pain, the betrayal, the way he’d left me shattered. I pushed him away, shaking my head.

"I don’t believe you," I said, my voice hard, trying to build a wall around my heart.

"I know you don’t," he replied, his tone soft, resigned. "But I’m not playing games with you. I never did —“

I started to walk away, trying to block out his words, trying to keep my heart from breaking all over again. But his voice stopped me, laced with a vulnerability I hadn’t expected.

"For a long time, I thought I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t. Even for someone like me, I tried to play it safe, and dammit, you were no safe choice."

His words confused me, and I turned to look at him, my brow furrowing. "What?"

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "You made my heart beat faster. You made my breath hitch with just a look in your eyes. You made me feel things I didn’t want to feel, things I didn’t know I was capable of feeling."

I stood frozen, trying to process everything he was saying.

"You were everything I didn’t know I needed," Mattheo continued, his voice trembling slightly. "But all I did was hurt you. And I hate myself for it."

"Mattheo…"

He closed the distance between us, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek.

I wanted to pull away, to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions his words were stirring up, but I couldn’t move. His touch, his words—they held me in place, and all I could do was stand there, my heart pounding in my chest.

His thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down my cheek, I searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that he was just saying what he thought I wanted to hear. But all I saw was sincerity, raw and unfiltered.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was fierce, urgent, like he was pouring all of the things he couldn’t say into that kiss. His hands roamed down my back, gripping my waist as he pressed me harder against the wall, and I felt my resolve crumbling with every passing second.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—there was only Mattheo and the heat of his mouth on mine, the feel of his body against me. His tongue traced my bottom lip, and I opened up for him, a moan escaping as he deepened the kiss, his hand tangling in my hair.

The intensity of it all was dizzying, making my head spin as I gave in to the raw, unfiltered desire between us.

Every touch, every kiss, only fanned the flames higher, and I found myself wanting more, needing more.

But then, reality crashed back in.

I pulled away abruptly, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest. "No," I whispered, shaking my head as I backed away from him, my hands trembling. "I can’t—I shouldn’t…"

I had to get out of there, away from him, away from the mess of emotions he stirred up inside me.

Without another word, I turned and ran, my footsteps echoing down the empty hallway as I fled from the confusion and the undeniable pull he had over me. My chest was tight, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting feelings as I put as much distance between us as possible.

But even as I ran, the taste of his kiss lingered on my lips, a reminder of the fire I couldn’t seem to escape.

The next day, I found myself sitting in the common room, staring blankly at the fireplace, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I was trying to focus on anything other than the way Mattheo's lips had felt on mine, or the fact that I had practically bolted from him like a coward. But just as I was about to lose myself in those thoughts again, Adrian plopped down beside me, his face twisted in a mix of disbelief and outrage.

"He said I have a small dick!" Adrian practically shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "Can you believe that? The nerve!"

I blinked, trying to process his words. "What?"

Adrian waved his hands around dramatically, still caught up in his rant. "Mattheo! He said I have a small dick! That’s a fucking lie!"

I stared at him, fighting the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "Adrian, really? That’s what you’re focused on right now?"

Adrian didn’t seem to hear me. He was on a roll, pacing back and forth, gesticulating wildly as he continued his tirade. "I mean, where does he get off saying that? He thinks just because he’s got that whole brooding, bad-boy thing going on he can go around spreading lies"

"Okay," I said, trying to cut in, but Adrian was too worked up to be interrupted.

"And it’s not even true!" he exclaimed, as if I needed convincing. "I mean, who does he think he is? Mr. Big Shot Riddle with his—"

"Adrian," I tried again, louder this time.

But he was still going. "I swear, I’m going to hex him next time I see him. No, I’m going to curse him. I’m going to—"

"Adrian!" I finally snapped, and he paused mid-rant, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What?"

"I believe you," I said, my voice firm. "I swear, I believe you. But can we focus, please? I’ve got bigger problems than Mattheo’s opinion on your… anatomy."

Adrian huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he flopped down beside me again. "Yeah, fine. Whatever. But seriously, what an ass."

I rolled my eyes, trying to push aside the urge to laugh. "Dammit, Adrian. Focus."

He sighed, finally calming down. "Alright, alright. What did you want to talk about?"

I hesitated, the memory of Mattheo’s kiss still fresh in my mind. "That he… he kissed me."

Adrian’s eyes went wide. "Wait, what? He kissed you?"

"That’s what I was trying to say."

"Yes, but can we get back to the part where he called my dick small?" Adrian cut in, as if he couldn’t let it go.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Adrian, for the love of Merlin—"

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, finally dropping it. "But for the record, that’s total bullshit."

Even though Betty and Mattheo still looked close, like the good friends they always had been, something had shifted. It was official—they had broken up. Their nearly lifelong relationship, which had been a toxic whirlwind of drama and passion, was finally over. Betty seemed fine, maybe even relieved, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was better at hiding things than I was.

Cedric, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of Mattheo in every way. He was calm, reliable, and safe. It made me wonder how Betty could jump from someone like Mattheo to someone like Cedric without a hitch.

She had spent so much of her life tangled up with Mattheo, and from what I’d heard, it hadn’t been easy. It had been intense, full of ups and downs, yet here she was, seemingly unscathed. I wished I could say the same for myself.

A week passed, and things were surprisingly... quiet. Well, except for Adrian, who couldn’t stop yapping about "that fucker trying to spread misinformation about his dick." It was a constant source of frustration for him, and honestly, the way he went on about it was almost comical.

Every time we crossed paths, Adrian would find some way to bring it up. “I mean, seriously, Y/N,” he’d start, completely exasperated, “the audacity of that asshole! He’s out there spreading outright lies! I should charge him with defamation or something.”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Defamation?”

“Of character!” Adrian insisted, as if he’d been gravely wronged. “Or defamation of… of something! It’s not just about the dick thing, it’s about the principle!”

“Right, the principle,” I’d say, trying to keep a straight face.

He wasn’t having any of it. “This isn’t funny, Y/N! Misinformation like this can ruin a guy’s reputation!”

Despite his outrage, it was hard to take him seriously when he’d throw phrases like “my honor is at stake” into the mix. I kept telling him to let it go, but that was like asking a Kneazle not to pounce on a mouse.

Meanwhile, I was doing my best to avoid two things: my father’s letters and Mattheo. The former had been piling up, unopened and ignored, on my bedside table. I just couldn’t bring myself to deal with whatever he had to say, not when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control.

And then there was Mattheo. Every time I saw him in the hallways or across the common room, my heart would start racing, and I’d immediately look away, pretending I hadn’t noticed him. But I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and dark, following me even when I wasn’t looking. There was a tension in the air between us, thick and electric, like the calm before a storm.

It wasn’t just his stare that I noticed. It was something else, something impossible to ignore. Strawberries. Every meal, whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner, Mattheo would go for the strawberries. He’d pick them out with careful precision, eating them slowly, almost deliberately. I tried to ignore it, to push the thought out of my mind, but it lingered, nagging at me every time I saw him reach for the fruit.

In the common room, I’d catch him staring at me from across the room his eyes made my skin prickle. He’d lean back in his chair, casual and confident, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, but there was always a hint of something more beneath the surface—a challenge, a dare, as if he was waiting for me to crack.

And I hated that it worked. That I’d feel my heart race, my breath catch, every damn time.

But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. So I kept my distance, kept my focus on anything but him.

And so the week dragged on, with Adrian’s indignant rants and Mattheo’s silent, smoldering presence, the tension between us building like a storm ready to break.

As I was lost in thought, Adrian suddenly popped up beside me, completely oblivious to the turmoil brewing in my mind. “Hey, Y/N,” he started, his tone unusually chipper. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Not now, Adrian.”

But Adrian, being Adrian, was persistent. He grabbed my arm, a grin spreading across his face as he practically dragged me down the corridor. “Come on, it’ll only take a second.”

“Adrian, what are you—” I started to protest, but before I could finish, he had pushed me into an empty classroom. I stumbled inside, annoyance rising in my chest.

“What the hell, Adrian?” I snapped, turning around just in time to see Mattheo stepping into the classroom as well, looking equally confused. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence.

Realization hit us like a freight train.

I bolted for the door, but it was already locked. Panic flared in my chest as I fumbled with my bag, searching for my wand, only to realize it wasn’t there. Adrian. I closed my eyes, vowing that once I got out of this room, the lies he’d been spouting about his dick would be the least of his worries.

I turned back to face Mattheo, opening my eyes. “Your wand,” I demanded, holding out my hand.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Are you planning to kill me, love? I’m sure Enzo would be more than willing to help you out, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.”

His voice was dripping with that infuriating confidence, and the way he called me “love” sent a shiver down my spine. I scowled, refusing to let him see how much he affected me.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know this was going to happen,” I shot back, my voice laced with anger.

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, as calm as ever. “You think I planned this?”

“Who else would’ve put Adrian up to something so stupid?” I spat, my frustration bubbling over.

Mattheo chuckled, shaking his head. “You give me too much credit. But if I had known, I wouldn’t have let him lock us in without a proper plan.”

“Like what?” I snapped. “Driving me insane until I can’t take it anymore?”

He took a step closer. “You’re already there, aren’t you?”

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my composure. “Yes, Unfortunately.”

He was close now, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body. His voice dropped to a low murmur, sending a thrill through me despite myself. “But you’re not as immune to me as you like to pretend, are you?”

I glared up at him. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mattheo.”

His smirk widened, and he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I don’t need to. You’re doing it for me.”

“So you say you didn’t know this was going to happen?”

He shrugged, still infuriatingly calm. “I didn’t know, but I’m not exactly complaining. We seem to keep finding ourselves in situations like this, don’t we?”

I glared at him, anger flaring up inside me. “This isn’t funny, Mattheo. I’ve had enough of your games.”

“Games?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “Who said anything about games, Love?”

“Maybe I’m just trying to make the best of a bad situation,” he murmured, his eyes locked on mine with that intense, burning gaze that always made it hard to think straight.

I clenched my fists, trying to hold onto my anger, but it was slipping through my fingers like sand. “You always think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

He was closer now, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of him—his cologne and something darker, more dangerous—wrapping around me.

“Maybe I am clever,” he said softly, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down my spine. “Or maybe… I’m just desperate to be close to you.”

“Is that so?” I finally managed to say, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “It is,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. "So if you’re going to kill me, love, better do it quick… because every second I’m this close to you knowing I had you once and then lost you, I’m burning alive.”

I shoved him away with all the strength I could muster, my anger boiling over. "I feel sorry for you, you know that?" I spat out, my voice trembling with the intensity of the emotions I was barely holding in check.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes of his. And that only made it worse. “You didn’t even apologize, Mattheo,” I continued, my voice rising. “You didn’t even try. And you know why? Because you don’t know how. You don’t know how to say you’re sorry, how to admit when you’ve messed up. You don’t know how to do the right thing. It must be exhausting being a disappointment all the time.”

I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel just a fraction of the pain he’d put me through. But as the words left my mouth, a sharp pang of regret sliced through me. I hated the look on his face now—the way his eyes clouded over, the way he blinked and looked away, as if trying to shield himself from the weight of my words.

But I wasn’t done. “You have no idea how hard it was, Mattheo. To let you in, to let you see me—the real me. I showed you everything, all my scars, all my wounds. I trusted you with them. And what did you do? You added more. You just kept adding more and more until I couldn’t take it anymore.”

He finally looked at me, something in his expression shifting. Slowly, he sat down on one of the desks, the smirk that usually played on his lips completely gone. It was like a mask had dropped, and all that was left was the raw, vulnerable truth beneath.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It is exhausting.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stopped, taken aback, staring at him in surprise. This was different—he was different. There was no bravado, no arrogance. Just… Mattheo.

“So the worst part was letting you down,” he continued, his voice full of a sadness that I wasn’t used to hearing from him. “I was raised by anger and loud voices. But you… you’re so quiet, so pure. Dammit, Y/N, I don’t know how to love, but I know I love you.”

I opened my mouth, the anger flaring up again. “You cheated on—”

“No, Y/N, I didn’t,” he cut me off, his voice firm. “It was over. I would never do that to you, or to her. It was really over, I swear it was.” He looked me straight in the eyes, pleading silently for me to believe him. “I did go to tell her. I hated the idea of her finding out from Inez and not me. We weren’t together, I swear we weren’t.”

He paused, searching my face for any sign of understanding. “We did get together after, because we both were heartbroken and we didn’t know any other way to fix it but it wasn’t the same. It was never the same—not after you.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “So I was the other woman, then?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, the implication of what that meant, of what I had been to him, cutting deeper than I’d expected.

He shook his head. “You weren’t the other woman, Y/N. You were the one who made me realize what I wanted, what I needed. You were the one who showed me that there was more to life than just be angry, than just doing fighting for everything. You made me want more—made me want to be more. I didn’t cheat on you, because in my heart… it was you. Even when I didn’t realize it, even when I was too much of a coward to admit it, it was you. It’s still you.”

He took a deep breath, his voice softening as he continued. “I won’t lie to you, and I won’t pretend that I’m not messed up. But what I feel for you… it’s real. It’s the most real thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

I looked at him, my breath hitching in my throat as I tried to keep the tears from spilling over. "I was raised by anger too, Mattheo," I began, my voice trembling. "But not the loud kind. It was quiet and slow, like a poison that seeps in and stays with you. It was the kind of anger that doesn’t shout but whispers, making you question everything, making you feel like you’re never enough."

I paused, struggling to get the words out, the emotions too raw, too painful. "And then you came along. You were loud, you were the voice in the silence, the one who made me feel something other than that suffocating anger. You—" My voice caught in my throat, and I couldn’t finish. Instead, I just sat down too, the weight of everything crashing down on me.

For a moment, we just sat there in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts, in the wreckage of what we’d done to each other. Then, I started again, my voice softer, more vulnerable than it had been before.

"I lived for the hope of what was between us. I wanted so badly for it to be real, for it to be serious. I cancelled plans, stayed up late, made excuses just to see you, to be near you. I was always waiting, always hoping that this time, you’d see me, really see me. And when you did, it was like nothing else mattered. It was like you were the only thing that mattered."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat growing tighter. "But every time I got my hopes up, I paid for it. I paid for it with every tear, with every sleepless night, with every second I spent wondering if you felt the same, if you cared as much as I did. And when it all fell apart, when you walked away, no one blamed you. No one called you the names they called me. I was the one who paid the price, while you… you just moved on."

Mattheo was silent, his gaze fixed on the floor as he absorbed my words. Finally, he spoke,"I didn’t know how to love you properly, because I didn’t know how to love at all."

He paused, his voice breaking as he continued. "But I know I love you. Even when I didn’t want to admit it, even when I tried to convince myself that I didn’t, I knew. And it scared the hell out of me. Because you deserve better, you deserve someone who knows how to love you right, who doesn’t screw it up every chance he gets."

He looked away, his hands trembling slightly as he spoke. "But I tried. Dammit, Y/N, I tried. I tried to be what you needed, what you wanted. But I failed. I failed because I didn’t know how to be that for you. And I hated myself for it. I still do."

I stared at him, my heart aching at the raw honesty in his voice, the pain that I could see etched on his face.

Tears streamed down my face, the weight of everything crashing down on me all at once. I couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t catch my breath. The room felt too small, the air too thick, and all I wanted to do was escape—to run from everything, from him, from the pain that seemed to swallow me whole.

"Y/N… love?" Mattheo’s voice broke through the haze, soft and filled with desperation as he knelt in front of me, trying to get me to look at him.

"Look at me, love. Look into my eyes. You love doing that, don’t you? Come on, just breathe with me, okay?"

But I couldn’t. My whole body was shaking, and it felt like the walls were closing in on me. I couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t think straight. All I could feel was the panic, the overwhelming fear that I was drowning, that I was going to fall apart completely.

"I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I never wanted to hurt you like this. I never wanted any of this to happen."

His hands moved to cup my face, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that continued to fall. "Please, forgive me," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. Anything. I’ll do anything for you, baby. Just name it."

I tried to focus on his words, tried to let them ground me, but it was so hard. The pain was so deep, so consuming, and I didn’t know how to make it stop.

"Please, Y/N," he continued, his voice growing softer, more desperate. "I need you. I need you to know that you’re the one I want, the one I need."

I felt his hand move to the back of my neck, his touch gentle as he tried to steady me. "You’re the one I love," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. "The only one. There was no one else. I swear it."

"When I went to see Betty that night, it was over between us. It had been over for a while and I told you that love i didn’t lie about that I swear. I just… I couldn’t let her find out from someone else. I wanted to tell her myself. I didn’t want her to think… to think that I had been lying to her, that I had been with you while I was still with her. I wanted to be honest with her, with you. But I swear, Y/N, I didn’t cheat. Not with you, not with her."

His eyes searched mine, pleading with me to believe him. "You have to believe me. I know I messed up, I know I hurt you, but I never meant to. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to handle everything. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I swear it."

Tears streamed down my face, the weight of everything crashing down on me all at once.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered again, his lips brushing against my hair. "I’ll never hurt you like this again. I promise."

I felt the tears well up again, but this time, they were different. They weren’t tears of fear or anger, but something softer, something that felt almost like relief.

"I’ll do anything for you, baby," he repeated, his voice tender. "Just tell me what you need, and it’s yours."

The door creaked open, and I jumped slightly, still nestled in Mattheo’s arms. I quickly wiped at my face as Adrian stepped inside, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Please tell me you got him begging on his knees," Adrian said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Mattheo stiffened beside me, his expression darkening. He was up on his feet in a flash, and I knew that look—he was ready to kill Adrian. I quickly grabbed his hand, holding him back. "Don’t."

Adrian’s eyes widened in mock fear, holding up his hands as if to surrender. "Whoa, easy there, killer. I’m just here to check if my best friend needs any emotional support after dealing with, well, you."

"Do you have a death wish?" Mattheo growled, taking a step toward him.

"Mattheo, calm down," I said firmly, tugging on his hand to pull him back. I could feel the tension in his muscles as he glared at Adrian.

"You know," Adrian continued, seemingly oblivious to the danger he was in, "I’m just saying, I’ve never seen Mattheo Riddle on his knees for anyone. If I had a camera, I’d have snapped a photo for the history books."

"Adrian, shut up," I said,"You’re not helping."

"I think I’m helping," Adrian shot back with a grin. "In fact, I’m the best help you’ve got. What are you gonna do without me, Y/N? Cry on Mattheo’s shoulder all day? Please, that’s my job."

Mattheo looked like he was about to lunge at him, but I squeezed his hand.

Enzo suddenly appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a bemused expression on his face.

"Did I miss the show?" Enzo asked, raising an eyebrow. "I heard something about Mattheo begging?"

"I was not begging," Mattheo snapped, shooting Adrian a murderous glare.

Adrian shrugged, still smirking. "You say ‘not begging,’ I say ‘finally showing some humility.’ Same difference."

"Do you have a death wish or something, Adrian?" Enzo said, shaking his head with a grin.

"I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking," Adrian replied, crossing his arms. "Besides, someone needs to keep Riddle here in check. Can’t have him getting too full of himself."

"I can take care of that myself, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes at the two of them.

Mattheo finally relaxed a bit, though he still looked ready to strangle Adrian. "You’re lucky she’s here," he muttered darkly.

"Yeah, I know," Adrian said, giving me a wink. "I’d be toast without her around."

Enzo chuckled, pushing off the doorframe. "Alright, enough with the macho posturing. We’ve got better things to do than watch you two flirt-fight."

"Who’s flirting?" I shot back, crossing my arms.

"You," Enzo said, grinning. "And him." He pointed between Mattheo and me. "And for the record, you’re terrible at hiding it."

"Like I’d ever flirt with this asshole," I said, though my cheeks heated at the insinuation.

"Oh, please, Y/N," Adrian said, rolling his eyes. "You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him right now."

Mattheo finally smirked, his anger dissipating. "See? Even Adrian can see it."

"I’m going to kill you both," I muttered, but there was a smile tugging at my lips.

"Hey, that’s my line," Mattheo said, looking down at me with a soft grin. "But you’re cute when you’re mad, so I’ll let it slide."

Adrian snorted. "Wow, she’s got you whipped, doesn’t she?"

"I’m not whipped," Mattheo shot back, though he didn’t sound too convincing.

"You kind of are," Enzo said, laughing.

"And for you information Riddle that my dick is perfectly average-sized so stop spreading rumors, thank you very much!"

"It’s not a rumor if it’s true."

Adrian’s face flushed with annoyance. "That’s bullshit, and you know it, Riddle! Quit trying to spread misinformation about my buddy!"

"Adrian,Now, can we please focus on something other than your you know for five minutes?"

"Five minutes is all I need," Adrian quipped with a wink.

"Five minutes is all it’ll take for me to bury you six feet under," Mattheo Said.

"Alright, alright. Calm down, Romeo."

Adrian threw his hands up in exasperation. "I’m just saying, that kind of rumor could ruin a guy’s reputation!"

"Yeah, because that’s exactly what I was trying to do," Mattheo said.

I rolled my eyes and tugged on Mattheo’s hand, pulling him toward the door. "Let’s get out of here before I have to deal with any more of this."

"Good idea," Mattheo agreed, following me out of the room. "Before I decide to actually kill them."

Adrian called after us, "You know you love us!"

As we walked down the hallway, Mattheo turned to me with a lopsided grin. "So, I’m forgiven?"

I glanced up at him, trying to suppress a smile. "We can work on that," I replied, teasingly.

His grin grew wider, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You know, seeing you all flustered and cute when you’re mad really does something to me."

My cheeks flushed red, and before I could respond, he captured my lips in a quick, heated kiss. It was so sudden that I barely had time to process it before he pulled away, smirking at my dazed expression.

"You can’t just kiss me like that out of nowhere!" I exclaimed, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

"Well, I sure as hell will," he said confidently, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "If I get to finally call you my girl, then I’ll be going around showing off and making sure everyone gets the message."

I raised an eyebrow. "What message?"

"That you’re off-limits. No one gets close to you, and no one says a damn word that could upset you."

"No?" raised an eyebrow, teasing him. "And if they do?"

Mattheo’s eyes darkened, and his lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Let’s just say I don’t think they’d want to try that again."

My eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you telling me you’ve been hitting guys who talk bad about me?”

He didn’t deny it, just gave me a sly smile, and suddenly, I couldn’t help the rush of excitement that went through me. The thought of him defending me like that—it was kind of a turn-on.

I smirked, stepping closer to him. “Okay, fine. That was such a turn-on. You can kiss me now.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as he pressed his lips to mine again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more passionate, and I melted into him, forgetting everything else.

When we finally pulled away, breathless and slightly dizzy, he grinned down at me. "I’m going to love showing everyone that you’re mine."

I rolled my eyes, but my heart skipped a beat at his words. "Just don’t go overboard with it, okay?"

"No promises," he murmured against my lips before stealing one more kiss.

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #fluff imagines #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle masterlist

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soapsilly · 2 years ago

Text

Cardio - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?), also kinda NSFW?

Summary: Ever since she joined the crew flirting with a certain green-haired swordsman has been (Y/N)'s favourite past time - even though she was told to not get her hopes up. Zoro doesn't do romance... or relationships... or situashionships. But what harm could a little harmless flirting do?

Requests are closed

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"So, (Y/N)-san, are you single?", the cook asked her during dinner. (Y/N) enjoyed that the crew ate dinner together every evening. It felt like family. Ever since she joined the Straw Hats the whole crew embraced her with open arms.

"Well, yes I am, but I'm hoping not for long", she answered the blonde but kept her eyes firmly trained on a certain green-haired swordsman that sat at the other end of the table, sending him a playful smile. It was no secret that the girl had cast an eye on the man know as the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro, who, at the moment, didn't even seem to notice her advances.

"Oooh (Y/N)-swaaaan I humbly volunteer myself as your boyfriend and partner!~", Sanji exclaimed.

The newest member couldn't hold back her giggles, "And I would be honoured, Sanji. Truly! But what would poor Robin and Nami do if you were taken?"

"Oh but of course, how could I forget? (Y/N)-san, you are so thoughtful~ ! But don't worry. I have enough love for all three of you, Ladies~"

(Y/N) giggled at his sing-song voice. She really liked the whole crew - all of them - but there was one person she took an instant liking to.

"Oi, Marimo! It's your turn to do the dishes! Don't you think you can weasel yourself out of it again", Sanji's sing-song was quickly replaced by a harsh holler.

"Oh, I'll help!", (Y/N) exclaimed. She was almost shocked at herself being so excited at the prospect of doing the dishes but spending time with Zoro didn't seem so bad.

"No, no, no. (Y/N)-san, -", Sanji tried to protest but the girl insisted. And so, shortly after, she found herself standing next to the mosshead rinsing the dishes.

"Soooo, what are you plans for the evening?", she asked the man standing next to her.

"Training", he hummed.

"You do that alot"

"Comes with the goal of being the strongest"

"I admire that", she smiles at him. It was quiet in the kitchen. The only things to be heard were the clinking of the plates and the occasional swooshing of the water in the sink, "Can you teach me some?"

The swordsman let out a laugh, "That would take years"

"I mean, just the basics", she shrugged.

"As I said, that would take years"

"You're being difficult on purpose", she grew frustrated, "I'm just trying to get to know you a little, y'know? Spend some time with you..."

The kitchen fell silent for a few moments before she came up with another idea.

"Would you like some company then?"

He looked at her for a few seconds but then decided to send her a nod anyways - maybe because she helped him with the dishes or maybe because he truly didn't care.

"Great! That's far better anyways, I get to sit back and enjoy a nice cold iced tea while watching a hot guy exercise", she nudged him in the side but didn't get a smile back, "You know you're no fun, right?"

Just a little later the two of them found themselves on the deck - Zoro practicing his form and (Y/N) off to the side shouting over some things here and there.

"Wait, so you trained with Mihawk? That Dracule Mihawk? One of the seven warlords of the sea?", she was shocked. She knew Zoro was good - in fact the whole crew was known to be extremely strong especially for how young they were compared to other crews - but this really put into perspective how strong he probably was.

"You talk a lot, you know?", his voice was gruff.

"Oh... Sorry", she didn't mean to annoy him, "I just wanted to get to know you a little..."

When the fighter noticed how quiet she had become he sighed, "Yes, he trained me for two years"

Her eyes lit up at his answer, "How is he like??"

"You're doing it again, woman!!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!!"

************************************************************************

It was early in the evening. The sun was set low on the sky, painting it in an aray of reds and oranges. Like usual Zoro was on deck training his skills like everyday. Most evenings (Y/N) would join him but tonight she wasn't there. The green-haired man didn't give it much thought though and just continued as usual until the girl entered the deck wrapped in a towel, her hair still damp.

"You shouldn't run around like this", he told her once she noticed her scantily dressed form, "Do you want the waiter to get a seizure?"

"Well, good thing we have a great doctor on the ship then", she answered, "But don't worry. This isn't for Sanji anyways"

Zoro raised his brows.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. It's not for you either", she paused for a second, squinting her eyes, "I mean... unless it's working?"

When he stayed quiet, she continued.

"I put my clothes out here. I like it when my clothes are warm and cozy after a shower"

When he looked over her shirt and shorts were indeed hanging over the railing.

"As much as I'd like to ge there someday, I don't think we're there yet sooo... Would you kindly turn around?"

Zoro scrambled to avert his eyes. Is she really getting dressed here on deck? He didn't get to think about it for long as he was smacked at the back of his head with her towel.

"Done", he heard her voice, "C'mon. Let's get some snacks"

She grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him with her towards the kitchen.

************************************************************************

"So, I'll go shopping, Sanji-kun is going to accompany me to look for supplies. Franky decided to stay on the Sunny for maintenance, so all you others have free time to explore the island for yourselves. Get your allowances before you leave or I will add yours to mine", Nami anounced.

"Great, I'll go with Zoro", (Y/N) immediately looped her arm into the swordman's. Her exclamation was merely a formality at this point as the last times they explored different islands weren't any different. Looking for firewood, hunting, exploring the wildlife to make sure there wasn't any threat around them - (Y/N) teamed up with Zoro. The pirate hunter never objected, much to the girl's delight. Having some free time now, however, was a welcome change for the whole crew though.

Just as they were about to leave Nami stopped the other woman.

"Hey (Y/N), wait I need to talk to you for a sec"

"Sure, what's up, Nami?", (Y/N) beamed at the navigator.

"Oi, if the two of you want to have your chit chat either have it quick or have it later, I'm not waiting for you, (Y/N)!", Zoro shouted at his companion from where he was standing a few feet ahead already.

"Without my help, you wouldn't even find the bar! You have no choice but to wait for me!", she hollered back but then quickly turned to Nami, "But seriously, if he wanders off without me, he's probably lost forever, so we should be quick before I lose sight of him", she giggled.

"Yeah, about that... I wanted to talk to you about Zoro", Nami awkwardly scratched the back of her neck.

"Why what about him?", (Y/N) was still smiling brightly.

"I noticed you flirting with him... like a lot-"

"Oh... Is he-? Are you? Are the two of you- ?", (Y/N) could feel her cheeks heat up. That would explain why Zoro never really went for any of her flirts...

"Are we what? Oh... OH! Oh god no! Zoro and me? God forbid!", Nami looked shocked.

"Thank god", (Y/N) let out a relieved laugh, "but what is the problem then?"

"Well, Zoro doesn't really do romance or relationships. He never goes for it whenever girls try to flirt with him. He probably doesn't even notice it to be perfectly honest", Nami continued, "I don't want you to get your hopes up just to get disappointed in the end"

"Oh that", (Y/N) made a dismissive hand gesture, "I noticed already. It's fine though. I mean, as long as it doesn't bother him it doesn't bother me either. I like spending time with him", she shrugged but then hugged her friend, "thanks for looking out for me though"

Nami was a little confused but hugged her friend back. She didn't understand how she could be happily having a crush on someone with no sign of reciprocation but as long as she was happy Nami was happy.

"Oh shit. Where is that mosshead gone?? Sorry, Nami! I gotta run. Who know's where that idiot wandered off to?", (Y/N) laughed happily whilst already running in the direction she suspected the swordsman to have disappeared into.

************************************************************************

"You're buying", she grumbled.

"What, why?"

"Why? Are you serious? Because of you, we had to make a half-hour detour! My feet hurt... If you had just waited for me, we would've just taken a road straight into town but you had to wander into the forrest"

"I didn't force you to come with me, you know?"

She just huffed. It was quiet for a few moments then she heard a sigh.

"What do you drink?"

"You're the best!", she side-hugged the mosshead.

For the next hour, the two of them sat in the bar drinking and occasionally even joking around.

"Oof, I need some fresh air...", (Y/N) stumbled down from her bar stool.

"You're such a light-weight, it's a shame", Zoro let out a bark like laugh.

"And you're an alcoholic", she stuck out her tongue at him but then made her way out of the stuffy bar. Once outside she leaned against the wall to steady herself. She let a few deep breaths fill her lungs and thought about Nami's words from earlier once again. It really didn't matter if Zoro liked her back... did it? Nah...

She enjoyed spending time with him - be it as friends or as lovers. Eventhough, she much rather preferred one thing over the other. She knew Zoro never flirted back or even gave an indication that he even took notice of her attempts of gaining his affection but she knew that he at least enjoyed spending time with her, which was good enough for the girl. Maybe someday they could be something more than friends though...

It got chilly outside so she decided to enter the bar again. Once inside she saw Zoro sorrounded by a group of girls. (Y/N) furrowed her brows.

"You're the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro!", one of the girls gushed.

"So?", he huffed.

"We heard that you and your crew challenged the world goventment", another girl continued.

"I'm trying to have a drink here...", Zoro tried to tell them. Unfortunately, those poor girls took this as an invitation to join him.

"Ah yes! A drink would sound lovely! I'd like a -"

"That seat is taken", the mosshead put his hand over the empty bar stool, where (Y/N) had just sat a few minutes prior. (Y/N) felt like her heart skipped a beat. Maybe he did indeed like he at least a little bit.

"Oh really? I don't see anybody", the girl that just tried to take (Y/N)'s seat demanded to know why she couldn't sit next to the swordsman.

(Y/N) took this as her sign to take action.

"Thaaaaank you, love, for keeping my seat safe", she threw her arms around the man, "and who are your friends here?", she asked sweetly. (Y/N) didn't have a problem with the group of women sorrounding Zoro - not at all. She just decided to help him out here.

"I don't know them", he grumbled.

The group awkwardly shuffled away, mumbling something about being fans but needing to get going now.

(Y/N) turned to the pirate hunter with a wide grin on her face.

"For real though, thanks for saving my seat"

"I just want to have my drink in peace. They seemed annoying", he shrugged, "Why is your face all red?", he asked her.

Her face fell, "I'm drunk... idiot"

************************************************************************

It was right after a fight. Most of the Straw Hats were unharmed - a few scatches here and a few bruises there. Nothing Dr. Chopper couldn't fix.

"That's going to be a scar, I'm sure of it", Nami complained about a cut she had suffered on her thigh.

"Don't worry, Nami!", (Y/N) yelled over from where she was sitting on the floor, "I think scars are sexy!"

"Oh really? Then why do I remember you almost having a mental breakdown after needing stitches on your forearm?", the red-head wasn't having it.

"First of all, that was my pretty arm! The other one already had blemishes...", (Y/N) rolled her eyes, "and second of all, I obviously wasn't talking about myself but rather on other people, isn't that right Zoro?" The girl sent the mosshead a shameless wink clearly alluding to the numerous scars that decorated the fighter's body.

Before Zoro had the chance to react, Sanji chimed in, "How come the stupid marimo is now somehow getting praise for sucking at fighting and always getting hit? Some of us are good enough to come out of a fight unharmed, you know?"

"What? WHAT? It's not my fault I'm actually fighting actual opponents! The only thing you are fighting are your eybrows", Zoro immediately shot back. It didn't take long for the two of them to be at each other's throats. Usually it would be Nami to separate them but everybody was too tired, so they just let them have at it.

************************************************************************

(Y/N) had only heard of the massive feasts the Straw Hat pirates had after every fight - Luffy baited her with them to lure her into joining the crew, but this was far bigger then she had anticipated. There was more food than she could ever eat, enough alcohol for the whole island - and some more just for Zoro - and Brook played his most popular tunes.

(Y/N) was pleasantly buzzed already when she decided to join Zoro where he was sitting in the corner of the room. On her way there she grabber herself a cup and a big bottle of rum, once she plopped down next to him she poured herself a cup and then handed him the rest of the bottle, knowing he'd empty any cup she could've given him in an instant anyways. He didn't complain and gladly took it.

"Are you having fun?", she yelled over the music.

"As long as I have a drink I'm always having fun", he answered her and indeed, he did look like he loosened up for a change.

She sent him a smile and raised her glass at him before taking a deep swig. For a while the two of them just sat in comfortable silence. She knew flirting with him was kind of her thing by now but at the moment she just wanted to enjoy spending time with her friend. If things would always stay the way they were right now - things wouldn't be half bad.

"You did good today", Zoro was talking about the battle they had earlier.

"Am I hearing right? I must've bumped my head... A compliment! By the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro! I feel honored", she feigned shock.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I meant you did good for your standards", he added with his lopsided grin that always made her heart skip a beat. To conceal an upcoming squeal she took another drink out of her cup. Okay, maybe staying friends wouldn't be as easy as she had hoped for - at least not with the adrenaline from the fight and the alcohol from the party still rushing through her veins.

"Why is your face all red?"

"You're not usually that observant, are you?", she grimaced.

"You'd be surprised", he smiled goofily before taking another big gulp of his drink.

Before (Y/N) had the chance to even think about what the swordsman was saying there, the song changed and so did the expression on the girl's face. A wide smile lit up her features and she excitedly turned to her friend next to her, who had no idea yet what she was about to propose to him.

"I know that song!", she sounded like a little child in a candy shop, "Do you dance?"

"Never", he barked out a laugh but made sure that she knew that he was aboslutely serious.

She pouted for a second but didn't want to waist any time before the song was over.

"Your loss", she shrugged and then skipped over to where Luffy, Usopp and Chopper where already dancing together arm in arm, joining them and singing at the top of her lungs.

************************************************************************

"Okay you know how it is! We need a team for supplies, a team for guard duty, a team for hunting... you know the drill", Nami announced. The Straw Hats had just arrived on a new island neither of them knew personally. Robin had read about it in one of her books but other than that none of them knew what they would find there. Robin already decided that she would explore the ruins that were supposed to be hidden deep in the woods - the island was supposed to be abandoned - but the others had to divide the remaining tasks among themselves.

(Y/N) was just about to announce that she was gonna team up with Zoro when the swordfighter himself interrupted her.

"(Y/N) and I take guard duty", he spoke up.

"No surprise there", Nami commented.

It was true that the two of them, (Y/N) and Zoro, usually teamed up - today would have been no exception. What was different though, was that it was usually always (Y/N) that would just decide for them to be a team - Zoro most of the time had no choice but to simply go along with it. Today - though - today was different and nobody but (Y/N) caught on. She was so busy with her thoughts that she didn't notice the other guys leave until it was suddenly just her and Zoro all alone on that big ship they called their home.

"So, guess it's just you and me, huh?"

"We don't have to talk, you know?", Zoro stated matter of factly, already preparing himself for a nice long nap.

"I know a few things we could do instead of talking, you know?", she repeated his statement, "In fact, it's gonna be a good few hours before any of them come back... a lot of things one could do in that time... instead of talking I mean", she pursed her lips as if she was really thinking about different possibilities instead of clearly alluding to one thing, before sending the fighter a grin.

"You keep flirting with me" - it was more of a statement than a question. There was no emotion in Zoro's voice that would have given the girl any indication as to how he felt about the fact. She felt her heart drop. And the others would only return in a couple of hours... this was gonna be uncomfortable.

"You - you noticed?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Nami said something along those lines a while back..."

"Nami always thinks she knows everything" - there was still no reaction on his face.

"Does it bother you? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable", (Y/N) could feel her face heat up. She felt bad and embarrassed at the same time.

"Bother me?", he let out a dry laugh - finally a sign of emotion, but now (Y/N) still didn't know what to make of it - "There's worse things in life than a pretty girl flirting with you"

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relieve. She would've been mortified if she made her friend uncomfortable in any way. The compliment didn't even register until a few moments later.

"Oh is that so?", a devious smile lit up her face but as fast as it appeared it disappeared again when she realized something, "Wait but why did you never flirt back? I mean, not even with me... but also with all those girls that always try to get with you... like those girls in the bar a few months back"

"Do I look like the ero-cook or what?", he truly looked insulted but (Y/N) didn't settle for that cheap of an answer. When she stayed quiet he continued, "Girls like these are always annoying. Idolizing you and wanting you to share your drinks with them. I mean not that you're not also annoying but looks like I'm not getting rid of you anytime soon", he shrugged.

When the girl heard that she squinted her eyes, "You know, I'll choose to take that as a compliment". A wide smile lit up her face as she made her way over to the mosshead, "You liiiike meeee", she teased him as she almost was chest to chest with the taller man.

"I liked the you from two minutes ago... You know? When you were too shocked to even form a sentence"

"And I liked the you that just called me pretty", she tried to look serious as she looked up at him, their faces only a few inches apart, before her face split into a grin again as she got on her tippy toes and pecked the swordfighter on his lips.

When she tried to pull back Zoro however had already cupped her face with both of his hands, going in for another kiss. (Y/N) hands almost automatically found their way into the pirate hunter's green hair and for a while the two of them just stood there as if the world stood still until Zoro parted from her lips.

"You know, I think you were right", his voice was low, barely more than a growl, "we do have the ship to ourselves for at least another two or so hours..."

"I'm a fucking genius", she mumbled agains his lips breathing heavily already.

"Jump", he commanded.

She knew exactly what he wanted from her, so without parting from his lips she did as she was told. He caught her with ease as she wrapped her legs around his waist, carrying her into the sleeping quarters of the Sunny. Once inside he laid her onto her matress, only breaking the kiss to basically tear the clothes off of her body.

"Fuck", he took the time to admire the woman in front of him. The cold air from suddenly being exposed had led to goosebumps forming on her body.

"Zoro" - when he heard her impatient whining it was his time to tease her now, taking his time with undressing himself before finally crawling on top of her again. Every touch felt electric, his skin felt hot against hers as she arched her back into him. Anything to get closer to him.

"Is that what you've been thinking about all this time, huh?", his voice was hoarse as he leaned down nibbling on her earlobe. Instead of an answer he earned himself a breathless moan, which in turn seemed to have it's effect on him.

"Zoro, please...", she whined. The swordfighter enjoyed seeing her like this. For months now he had grown to like the overly confident young woman - eventhough her big mouth could become exhausting after a while - but now there was no more sassy banter anymore. Right now all that counted was how good her body felt against his and how perfectly his name sounded when she moaned it.

He leaned down for another kiss, which she eagerly returned. His hands found their way into her hair tuggin at the strands, making the girl underneath him gasp from the sudden sensation. He isn't know to be a patient man but he thought to himself that he was gonna take his sweet time with this - partly to tease her, partly because he wanted to savour every moment of it - but (Y/N) had other plans. As they parted she looked up at him, lips swollen from the make out session and she looked to damn perfect. And then he felt her hand wandering down his torso and between his legs. To hell with taking it slow - they could always squeeze in a round two, he thought, as he pinned the girl's hand over her head and started kissing down between the valley of her breasts.

************************************************************************

"Well, that was a failure", Nami complained to Sanji as they walked up the gangway to the Sunny. This island was puny. There way nothing interesting there. Not only were there indeed no people left, but there was also no sign of human life at all. No abandoned shops. No ghost town. Nothing. And even the trees in the forrest barely held enough fruit to top up their food supplies for the next part of the journey, so that they definitely would have to make a stop at yet another island before going on to their actual destiny.

"At least Robin-chwan had luck with her ruins", the cook babbled along, delighted at the thought of at least one of the women having had a good time. Most of the crew had found their way back to the Sunny again - all of them with similar news - except for Nico Robin, who indeed had found what she was looking for.

"Hey guys we're... back? Where are they?", the navigator was just about to announce their early arrival when she noticed that neither (Y/N) nor Zoro were anywhere to be found on the deck.

"They're not in the crow's nest either", Sanji confirmed, "What if something terrible happend to (Y/N)-san? I know it was a mistake leaving her here with that second class sword-clown"

"Calm down, Sanji", Chopper assured him, "Zoro probably wandered off again and (Y/N) now has to make sure he isn't lost or something. The island is abandoned. Nobody attacked them"

"That's just as bad, that stupid marimo", Sanji swore under his breath.

Nami was just about to answer the cook when a loud crash followed by a "fuck" interrupted her train of thought.

************************************************************************

Zoro and (Y/N) just laid there at the moment, the sheets lazily draped over their exposed bodies. Zoro was just about to propose a round two when they heard the voices of Nami and that ero-cook outside of the cabin coming continuously closer.

"What are they doing back already?", (Y/N) looked panicked, scrambling out of bed trying to gather her clothing but only so far finding her bra, "Where the fuck are my clothes?"

Zoro couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her running around like a headless chicken. He was in no rush to get dressed - he much rather enjoyed the show that unfolded before his eyes.

"Stop laughing, Zoro, and help me", she whined. He noticed that her whining wasn't as annoying anymore... endearing rather.

"And what do you want me to do?", he laughed but actually got out of bed and gathered his clothes along with some of hers.

"Here", he handed her her panties, which she gladly took and tried to hastily put on. In the rush, however, she wobbled on one leg and then stumbled backwards into a dresser.

"Fuck"

"Good job... I'm sure they won't be coming straight in here now", Zoro sarcastically commented. How did he already get his pants and shoes on???

Unfortunately though, Zoro was right. The once muffled voices of their crew mates were coming closer and closer. As much as he enjoyed seeing her struggle, time was running out now and the swordsman was not about to let (Y/N) be exposed like that, so he held out his green robe for her.

For a moment she hesitated.

"Are you sure?"

"It's wide. Easier to slip into than those tight clothes of yours", he shrugged - that was one reason, sure, another reason was, that he really wanted to see the waiters face when he saw (Y/N) in his clothes.

"That's nice", she smiled at him, "smells like you"

When he saw her in his clothes, there was a feeling in his chest he couldn't quite place. It was too big for her, the sleeves hanging over her hand and one side of the collar falling off of her shoulder exposing the naked skin underneath. He grabbed her jaw with one of his hands, making her cheeks puff out adorably and pressed a firm kiss on her lips.

"We should do this more often"

(Y/N) was just about to answer when the door to the sleeping rooms flew open. The girl tried to step away from Zoro as soon as she noticed that they weren't alone anymore but apparently not soon enough.

"Here you are! You know guard duty means guard duty and not nap time...", Nami's voice trailed off once she processed the image that presented itself infront of her.

Once she did, she began shrieking, "What do you two think you're doing???"

(Y/N) slipped out of the room squeezing past the red-head, closely followed by Zoro but to her horror outside most of the crew already stood and waited aswell.

"We - we were...", (Y/N) was usually quick-witted but right now her mind drew a blank.

"Doing cardio", Zoro chimed in from behind her, still shirtless and seemingly not bothered by the situation at all.

"Yep", (Y/N) went along with it, "Cardio"

Robin, who of course caught on to the situation, snickered behind her hand but refused to enlighten Dr. Chopper as to why that was funny, not wanting to tarnish the gullible reindeer's innocence.

Sanji however found nothing humorous in the situation - almost in shock he turned to (Y/N), "(Y/N)-san! I'm sorry I left you alone on this ship with this pervert! I promise I'll make it up to you"

"What did you just call me, ero-cook?"

"You heard me! If you just as much as put a single finger on (Y/N)-san I'll make you regret it"

"Sorry, to disappoint you, but I did a little more than that", Zoro laughed.

That was enough for the cook to lunge for the swordsman, "You are not good enough for her! You dirty bastard!"

Nami massaged the bridge of her nose. First, the island turned out to be a total failure and now this.

"Look what you've done. No more guard duty for the both of you", she deadpanned.

"Sick! I hate guard duty", (Y/N) grinned.

"I meant together", the navigator pressed out between her teeth.

"Oh! Yeah. I can't promise that", the other woman nodded thoughtfully and then turned to leave but then remembered one last thing.

"Oi, Nami!", the red-head looked up to where the voice was coming from. From behind her, (Y/N) could see Usopp furiously signaling for her to shut up - and (Y/N) knew she really should listen to him - but there was this little voice in the back of her head telling her to poke the bear, so she continued, "by the way... you were wrong!"

The last thing (Y/N) saw, before a furious Nami was chasing after her was a facepalming Usopp but she didn't have the time to justify her decision because the navigator was hot on her heels, with a raised hand. A punishment she usually only reserved for Luffy and sometimes Zoro whenever they were being stupid but (Y/N) guessed that the stress from today paired with the reminder of her error about the advice she gave (Y/N) about Zoro, was too much for the red-head.

"Sanjiiiiii, help! Nami's gone crazy and is trying to kill meeeee", she screamed at the top of her lungs as she was fully sprinting away in order to not get hit.

"I'm coming, (Y/N)-saaaaaan~", the cook sing-songed.

And as Nami was chasing after (Y/N) and Sanji was chasing after the two of them, she couldn't help but think about how she wouldn't wanna be anywhere else at the moment than on this ship with those idiots. Especially a certain green-haired swordsman that she had liked for a while and - as she now just found out - wasn't as clueless as she thought.

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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its-the-allure · 2 months ago

Text

First line game ✍️

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics.

Thank you for tagging me @bradleysass, @arminaa8 and @the-forbidden-forest! Here are my first lines from posted and unposted works:

"Sex and Candy" | Explicit | 3.5k words

Harry woke in stages. As his consciousness came online, bit by bit, he registered the warm body spooned behind him, the arm heavy over his waist, the solid thigh tucked between his legs. Draco. The night before came rushing back.

WIP: "Love Buzz" | Follow up to Come As You Are and "Sex and Candy"

“What’s gotten into you?” Ron cut him some side eye across the table, copper stubble glinting in the sunlight. It was Sunday and they were at the Burrow, eating lunch in the garden. “Er, what do you mean?” Harry pressed his palm over the lump of his mobile phone tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. He couldn’t help the grin that split his face, mind going at once to the new contact: [redacted]. “Exactly what I’m talking about.” Ron’s gaze was assessing, a leer twisting his mouth. “Mate. I haven’t seen you this giddy since… well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this. Who is she?”

Drabble Drarry | Explicit | Ongoing

Harry knew it was stupid, starting up again—when Draco might never come out.

Solemates | Explicit | 2.2k words

Saturday morning finds us sprawled on opposite ends of the couch reading our respective favourite sections of the Daily Prophet. I stretch out my legs, bare feet burrowing into Draco’s joggers-clad lap. He’s dressed in a pair of mine, and the casual intimacy of him wearing my clothing sends my pulse racing even after all this time.

Snow Can Wait | Explicit | 5.8k words

Giddy with anticipation, Harry grabs a handful of Floo powder from the Ministry fireplace and announces his destination: “Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy’s flat.” He and Draco had moved in together last month, and the thrill of declaring his new location hasn’t gotten old yet. With the Ministry closed for the winter hols, Harry finally has a break from his gruelling job as an Auror. He’s been eagerly looking forward to spending it with Draco in their new home. And what’s more, Harry is planning a special surprise for Christmas.

WIP: Unnamed | Follow up to Snow Can Wait

All week Draco had been looking forward to the party, and now he just can’t wait for their guests to get the fuck out of their flat. He smiles politely—he hopes—as he listens to Molly Weasley natter on about something. He honestly isn't sure what she’s talking about because he hasn’t been listening.

Sweet like candy to my soul | Explicit | 9.2k words

A small Pop! rents the quiet of Draco’s sitting room, startling him enough that he splatters ink all over his Advanced Potions assignment. An origami stag has appeared mid-prance on his desk top, the enchanted paper animal taking a few laps before he’s able to grasp it. His heart thumps wildly as he unfolds the intricate layers—the stag is Harry’s, though he’s never sent one of the charmed notes to Draco before. Draco, Please join me in my rooms at 8pm tonight? ~ HJP

Leather Cheerio | Explicit | 2.2k words

“I’ve been fantasizing about licking your leather Cheerio since we became Auror partners,” Harry blurts suddenly, the mortifying truth yanked out of him by the vial of Veritaserum he’s just downed. It’s part of a routine training exercise at the DMLE, learning how to withstand questioning after accidental dosing or drugging by enemies out in the field. So far Harry’s not doing very well.

Oroboros | Mature | 558 words

He hadn’t always been beautiful. When he was eleven, Harry Potter had been gangly, all elbows and knees and hideous glasses that were too large for his gaunt face. At fifteen, Potter had been angry, his brows a furious dark slash over flashing green eyes, his mouth pressed into an unforgiving line. At seventeen, he had come out of hiding with Granger and Weasley, the lot of them hollow-eyed and dirty, little more than zombies. And yet they had been victorious, hobbling the Dark Lord enough that Potter was able to kill him—and change the course of Draco’s life. Harry Potter hadn’t always been considered beautiful. Except to Draco—he had been.

WIP: Gender Studies | Draco & Hermione friendship/Body swap

Hermione woke suddenly, her head pounding and a dry, woolen taste to her mouth. The next sensation that registered was the fierce pressure of her full bladder, which was quickly overshadowed by a raging feeling of lust in her… nether regions. Which felt strangely as though they were outside of her body…. Her eyes snapped open. Despite the early morning hour, there was enough light filtering into the room to see that this was not, in fact, her quarters. Brow furrowing, she spared a moment to catalog the sheer black panels around the heavy four-poster and the dark patterned duvet, before she focused once again on the confusing divergent sensations in her body... Hand trembling, she reached to pull the bedcovers aside only to be distracted once more by the sight of her hand. Thin, elegant fingers, knuckles dusted with pale golden hair. Short fingernails buffed to a dull shine, the half-moons of the nail bed larger than hers normally were. Decidedly a male hand. Decidedly not her own.

I tag 10 pals who write good: @toomuchplor @lqtraintracks @smugrobotics @yiiiiiiiikes25 @bewarethesmirk @letteredlettered @tessacrowley @itsphantasmagoria @sleepstxtic @jelliewrites @desertforestfic

#my writing #allure writes #first lines game #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #fan fiction #harry x draco #drarry fanfic #draco x harry #hpdm fanfic #smut fairy in action #hpdm #Hermione Draco friendship

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thecupidwitch · 1 year ago

Note

Hi ! I hope you're feeling well and taking care 🫶🏻💜! I wanted to ask, do you have any tips/suggestions for beginner eclectic witch's? I want to get into witchcraft, but there's so much in the practice, it gets overwhelming for me (I have ADHD). Any tips/suggestions? I'd really appreciate it 💜🫂? Blessed be <3

Hello🙂

You don't need to learn everything in one sitting, witchcraft takes time to learn and even the most advanced practitioner still don't know everything. What you need to do is learn about all the basics of magick. This includes:

What magick is and how it works

Tools

Correspondences of herbs, colors, oils, days and moon phases

Divination

Visualisation

Meditation

Energy work

Grounding and centring

Shadow work

Protecting and cleansing yourself (you need to learn how to protect and cleanse before you do any other spell)

Also trust your inttuition above everything else. Always.

books recommendations

The Complete Book of Incense, Oils & Brews by Scott Cunningham

The Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells by Judika Illes

Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham

The Sorcerer's Secrets by Jason Miller

The Green Witch by Arin Murphy-Hiscock

The Art of Mysticism by Gabriyell Sarom ( step by step guide on how to do meditation, breathing exercises, mindfulness and becoming attuned to energy)

Encyclopedia of Witchcraft by Judika Illes

Sigil Magic for Writers, Artists and Other Creatives by T. Thorn Coyle

Some youtubers:

Ivy The Occultist

Mystic At The Crossroads

The Witch Of Wonderlust

Temperance Alden

Willow Grace Astrology (if you are into astrology give her a listen)

Sorry i don't have any tips to help you learn with adhd but if anyone have any advice to give please to anon please do :)

#thecupidwitch #ask

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fandom-lover2 · 7 months ago

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The Two Times Toshinori Realized He'd Failed As A Father And The One Time He Didn't

Chapter Two - The Second Time He Failed

Word Count - 3676

Chapter One - The First Time He Failed

Chapter Three - The Time He Didn't

Toshinori winched, the cold wind biting through his layers and chilling his bones.

He understood the need for training in such conditions, but did he really have to be out here in winter? Behind him, he heard the mumbled complaints of his students voicing his same thoughts.

So far, one group had gone. Now was the second group’s turn. After them, there would still be another two groups to go.

Toshinori flexed his shoulders, shifting his coat as he kept his arms crossed. “Keep your eyes up Mina.” he advised through the ear piece that connected him to his students in the gym.

He watched on the cameras as Mina did as she was told, narrowly avoiding what would have been a painful strike to the back of the head.

The Support Classes had outdone themselves this time, their robots more advanced than the ones before. Each was a small sphere with mechanical wings, its own thing that made it a formidable adversary, drawing inspiration from a student or Pro Hero’s quirk.

The one Mina was currently against shot out a highly sticky substance. Between her dodging of the ball, she needed to place a sticker on its surface.

That was the objective for all students, place a sticker on as many balls as you can in the given time. And don’t get hit, or tied up, or knocked out. You know, the normal.

Movement on another screen caught Toshinori’s attention and he looked up just in time to see Shoji place a sticker on a ball that had a cloaking advantage, making it so that you needed to hear it rather than see.

Koda was using the birds around him to help force a ball that shot out bean bags to the ground so he could tag it.

You and Midoriya had ended up in the same group, a lucky draw of straws, and were currently walking at opposite ends of the training ground to find your next target. You currently had 3 balls tagged, and his successor 2.

“Good work Young Shoji. Very resourceful Young Koda.” Toshinori complimented, his eyes tracking his successor.

He watched as the crisscross of green power rippled across Midoriya’s skin before he leapt into the air, green black tendrils of smoke leaving his hands as he aimed to grab a sphere. It ducked from his reach, and he bounced off a wall following after it, smoke still shooting out to try and catch it.

Toshinori liked this exercise, a chance for Deku to use both his quirks at once. He watched, pride swelling in his chest as his hands clenched in anticipation, watching in amazement as his boy zipped around, chasing the sphere that moved with extraordinary speeds.

“Fuck!” he heard you yelp in his ear.

“Language.” he chastised automatically.

He really needed to get you to stop swearing so much.

Granted, he did swear a lot in his career, being sure to do so in English. But, he was supposed to be stopping the cycle of bad habits, even though he did spend an entire lesson teaching your class how to swear in English.

His eyes flicked over to your screen, seeing that the sphere you had found had electricized whips that shot out from it. One had managed to make contact with you. Because, you had another circling that shot out small blades that seemed to have tiny engines on them, able to change direction and follow after you. In dodging one, you got stuck in another.

Now this was excellent, a chance for you to practice splitting your concentration, controlling your stars to handle multiple situations at once. A chance to practice fighting a villain, avoiding attacks, and begin with rescue operations all at once.

His eyes snapped between the two screens, his heart racing in his chest as he watched both his kids have the perfect chances to better themselves.

You were struggling, he could see it. He had to force himself to remain immobile as he saw every new cut appear on you when a knife got through, and winced every time your body tensed when the medium voltage shocks ran through your body.

Midoriya was doing well, seeing this as a good challenge and rather drawing out the chase instead of ending it quickly.

Your father watched as his successor used his two quirks expertly, moving with grace and precision through the air, around his target.

He glanced over at you, and you weren’t on that screen anymore. He looked around, and found you near the original site, hiding in an alley. You were hunched over, hands on your knees as you breathed heavily. A cut on your cheek dripped blood.

“Come on Yagi.” your father called over the earpiece. “Push on. You can’t leave a scene without ensuring the situation is under control.”

He saw your body still, but didn’t stay looking at you. Midoriya was closing in on his sphere, winding up his arm for a blow.

He shouted one of All Might’s catch phrases and punched, the air from his blow sending the robot crashing to the ground. Landing beside the struggling droid, Midoriya bent down and slapped his sticker onto it.

“Excellent work, Young Midoriya!” Toshinori cheered over the earpiece, which was broadcasted for every student in the field to hear.

Finally, they were making headway. All his research was paying off, all his student’s work paying off. The quirks were becoming better to manage, his successor mastering them faster than he could have imagined. There was still a long way to go, but they were on the right track.

Your father turned back to your screen, finding you still hunched in the same alley.

“Yagi, stalling at an active scene can cause more harm for bystanders. You need to get back out there.” Your father called to you again.

You breathed heavily over the comm system for a moment, then said something, something that made your father frown.

“I give up.”

Give up? You couldn’t just give up. You didn’t just give up. You had never once given up.

“What?”

“I give up.” you repeated louder, more firm.

Was this too hard for you? It shouldn’t be, or rather you shouldn’t be shutting down because of it. You loved testing your limits, finding a way through. What was going on in your head?

“You can’t just give up. In a real situation, you can’t just run away because you aren’t getting your way. The exercise isn’t complete, and this is a graded-”

“I give up!” You screamed, your father flinching at the sudden volume in his ear.

Your classmates on the screens did the same, stopping to listen to what was happening. Behind him, the rest of your class had gone silent.

“I can’t do this anymore.” you breathed, still crouched in the dark.

Maybe it was too much, both spheres already a challenge on their own, near impossible when put together. Anyone would struggle.

Said training materials had found you, and were barreling down the alley towards you.

“Y/n, look-”

Your father’s warning wasn’t needed. Without even moving your hands, the two spheres exploded, pieces of metal falling to the floor with small thunks.

If it was that easy, why had you been saying all that?

He watched in silence, watched as you breathed heavily, still hunched over.

“I’m going back to America.”

His blood froze in his veins, his stomach dropped, he forgot to breathe. He watched as you stood, blood dripping down your cheeks as you stepped out the alley, walked down the streets.

You left your earpiece behind, deaf to the calls of your classmates in the field with you. Any flying robots you came across were swiftly destroyed without even a glance.

He tracked you through the cameras, watched you walk straight out of the training grounds. He briefly remembers asking Iida to round up the rest of the class and take them back to their classroom and keep them entertained before he removed his own earpiece and rushed from the observation deck.

Toshinori ran down the school’s halls, slipping between students and fellow teachers as he tried to find you. The changing rooms should have been his first guess, but he was too distracted to think clearly.

You were leaving? How long had this plan been in motion? Why hadn’t you told him? How could he be losing you?

Finally reaching the 1-A girl’s changing room, he burst in without much thought.

There you were, shirtless and currently trying to stop the bleeding of a clean slice to your abdomen. Not deep enough to need stitches, but still deep enough to be a nuisance.

“What the hell happened out there? And what do you mean you’re leaving?” he gasped out, hand raising to comb through his messy hair.

You ignored him, back still to him as you resumed pressing a handful of paper towels to your stomach.

“Y/n?” he called, taking steps towards you. “What the hell was that?”

No answer.

“Why are you going back?”

You whipped around, and it was then he noticed the redness around your eyes, the tears that streamed down your cheeks.

“Because I am your daughter!” you screamed, the sound coming from deep within you, echoing off the walls and slamming into him again. “Not him!”

You pointed, no direction but the meaning was clear.

“I am your daughter,” you repeated, a lot softer this time, your voice catching, “and I don’t even remember the last time you spoke to me.”

Toshinori realized, with a cold dread seeping up his spine, he couldn’t remember either.

You sobbed, your whole body curling into itself as your tears of pain rolled down your cheeks.

Oh his poor baby.

He reached his hands out, wanting to pull you in. You took a step back, like his very touch would burn you.

“Little One,” he whispered, wanting, needing to pull you close.

You shook your head, turning away from him again.

How could he have let this happen?

Since the emergence of Midoriya’s new quirks, he had been so focused on his research, on learning all he could to help his successor. He was desperate to learn more, so that he could help Midoriya become a good hero, help him become the next Symbol of Peace. How had he forgotten about his own child? He had been so busy he hadn’t stopped to see how much he was hurting you.

His throat tightened, his stomach twisting in guilt. “Y/n, please.” he tried, reaching for you again. You pulled further away.

“You love him more than me.”

All for One’s blow that almost killed him hurt less than hearing you so broken, your words knocking air from his lung.

Had he really let it get this bad? Did he really cause you to believe he didn’t love you more than anything else?

“He’s more important than me.”

“Stop!”

He couldn’t hear those words anymore, couldn’t hear how he’d lead you to believe you weren’t the most important person in the whole world to him.

You jumped at his command, put didn’t look at him still.

How could you think that? You were everything to him. Symbol of Peace was only second on his list of priorities, had been since the day he found out your mother was pregnant.

And training Midoriya? That was to continue on with the hopes of peace, so that One for All could be past to someone good, someone who used it for good.

You were his child, his legacy. How had he let himself get so consumed in that world, so lost in his desperation to learn more, that he’d forgotten the one person who was his world.

You fought a sob, and he was unsure how you were even managing to see what you were doing as you cleaned blood from your skin, tears dripping so quickly.

“Midoriya is my successor, and I care about him.” Your father started. There was no way he could lie to you. It was obvious Midoriya had become important to him. “I care for him very much, but I will never love him more than you.”

“You always spend time with him.” you spat.

“My Starlight, I am sorry. I got so caught up-”

“You don’t gotta worry. I’m moving back in with Mom.” you interrupted. “That way I won’t be here wasting your time.”

Waste his time?

“No, you are not.”

“You can’t stop me.” you challenged, still looking away.

It took your father two strides to reach you, his arms wrapping around you.

“Get off me.” you growled, which sounded pathetic combined with your tears.

You wiggled about, but that was honestly useless. Your father was All Might, One for All or not.

“I’m sorry.” Toshinori tried again, tears of his own gathering.

“I don’t care. Get off.”

He held you tighter, his tiny baby girl. How could he have let you feel so unloved, how could he have made it seem like he didn’t love you?

God he was a terrible father, leading his child to question his love for them.

“I love you, so much.”

“Get off me!” you insisted harder, struggling with all you had to be free.

He was a horrible, useless person. He’d shoved away his own daughter for something as stupid as a quirk. He’d made every moment of his life about Izuku Midoriya, ignoring you completely.

So much had happened, was happening to you, and his focus was elsewhere. Had he even asked you how work was going? You were just as busy as Midoriya, working alongside pro heroes, as equal to them as you patrolled and faced villains. Not to mention everything with the League of Villains. You and Bakugou had both been targeted at the Summer Training Camp, and you had barely gotten away. Then, you faced All for One, actually fought All for One, when your father was failing. His threat of coming for your life, of the Legue coming for you again someday no doubt hung over you daily. And regular classes, tests? Were you coping while being away from school so often?

Oh his baby girl, what had he done?

He squeezed you tighter.

“You’re hurting me!” you cried, and then Toshinori felt gravity shift.

No longer was he stuck to the floor, behind him was the strongest force. He was pulled back, his feet sliding across the floor as he was dragged back to the door.

You had used your quirk to push him away.

Toshinori looked at you, catching the look of horror that crossed for face for just a moment before it scrunched up again in pain.

He truly looked at you. Dozens of cuts littered your skin, knives having sliced through your hero costume easily to damage the skin below. They all bled, some worse than others depending on how deep the blades had gotten. Burns covered you too, skin red and inflamed with some beginning to blister. The whips had been merciless, catching your shoulders, and back, and arms. One had seemed to have landed at your neck, the mark ugly and painful.

And he had been grabbing you selfishly, forcing your sensitive skin to rub against his rough clothes and weathered hands.

Your body shook, ripples of physical pain mixing with the overwhelming emotional pain you felt. You looked at him, tears gathering and falling, and begged him to do something to fix it all. Fix inside that he had broken, and fix outside that he hadn’t seen.

“Daddy.” You were so soft, nothing left in you.

Toshinori moved forward, giving you time to pull away but also not really going to accept if you did.

Bending, he scooped you into his arms. He didn’t need to be All Might to carry his baby.

Despite the pain, you leaned into him, burying your face into his shirt.

He moved through the school, a man on a mission that nobody could stop. You used your quirk to open the door to the Infirmary when he arrived, saving him from slamming it open and most likely breaking it.

Recovery Girl turned in her chair, startled by the sudden invasion. Then she saw it was your father and sighed, rolling her chair back and dropping to the floor.

“I swear Toshinori, can you not go a week without one of your children ending up here?”

“Aggressive training robots.” you defended on his behalf.

He placed you down on the hospital bed, standing close-by, hovering as Recovery Girl looked over your wounds. She began by cleaning the cuts, and Toshinori’s heart broke a little more with each and every wince you let out as the alcohol burned, yet you still refused to reach out to him for comfort.

His self-hatred grew with each sniffle you let out, every tear wiped before it could roll down your cheeks.

All of this was his fault. If he had bothered to check in on you instead of just assuming you wouldn’t be this state. Internal and external wounds wouldn’t be marring his baby. He clenched his fists, his anger silently stewing inside him. If only he could yell at himself, hit himself for causing so much pain.

It took well over an hour for Recovery Girl to clean all your cuts, confirm none of them needed stitches. Your pants had to be removed as well, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your father had bathed you. And it wasn’t like anything Recovery Girl would say would get him to leave your side.

Once the cuts had been tended to, bandages covering most of your skin, she moved on to the burns. Toshinori knew from experience how badly electrical burn stung. You clenched your jaw, screwed your eyes shut, as the healer applied burn gel. Your father watched on helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do it ease your pain and hurting because he knew you didn’t want his comfort.

Finally, Recovery Girl was finished and instructed you to lie down for a bit, rest for a while before going back to the dorms. The bell for end of school had rung long ago. The gel needed time to dry, so you lay without a blanket, the curtains pulled around you to give the sense of privacy. Recovery Girl brought your father a chair and he sat by your side, hand hovering just beside yours.

His eyes scanned your body, desperate to see what else he may have missed.

You looked tired, dark splotches beneath your eyes. And a lot skinner. Were you eating at all? A bruise covered your left side, looking to be from a broken rib. His own wound ached in sympathy. A scar on your right thigh was forming, something that looked suspiciously like a gunshot wound. Had you been shot and you didn’t tell him?

Maybe if he had asked, you would have felt you could come to him.

God, you weren’t even telling him about injuries you’d gotten. It was this bad?

He briefly felt a wave of fury wash over him, and he almost took out his phone and called Gang Orca, demanding to know why he wasn’t updated. But it wasn’t your employer’s job to let him know if you sustained an injury on the job.

“I am so sorry.”

You kept your eyes closed. The crying had stopped, but around your eyes was still red.

“I never meant to…”

What does he even say? He’d abandoned you.

He lived on the same campus as you, saw you almost every day in class, saw you in the dorms when it was his turn to watch your class, and he had distanced himself from you.

He was the adult, with the stable job and the easy life of a retired hero. You were the student, juggling work and exams as well as a social life. You were his baby, his daughter. He should have been pacing around, worried sick when you weren’t in class because Gang Orca had you off on a mission, not just counting you as absent from his lesson and moving on to do more research.

You were still just a child, his child. Carrying all this, and alone? He had failed as a father.

You opened your eyes, but kept them looking ahead. They were so sunken, so lifeless.

“I want to go home.”

You had never once called the States your home. It was always “Mom’s home” or “America”. His place, his apartment, that was home. That was home where he saw you every day, sat down to have meals with you and tucked you into bed despite your grumbling of being too big to still be doing it.

You wanted things to back to how they had been before, how they should have been all this time. You were asking for your dad, asking for him to love you again.

Wordlessly, Toshinori lent forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you from the bed and into his lap.

You curled into him, clinging to his warmth. Lying half naked in the middle of winter wasn’t the best idea. He pulled the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around himself, his arms wrapped around you.

He kissed the top of your head, tears of his own falling silently.

“I’m sorry I failed you.”

You snuggled tighter into him, leaving the world to its own problems as your father held you.

“You didn’t fail.” you mumbled, arms slowly snaking around his chest.

How could you be the one hugging him now when he'd hurt you so much?

“Daddy?” you called when the silence stretched on for too long.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Toshinori’s chest fluttered and he took a deep breath in and out, relief flooding through his system.

“I love you.” He somehow managed to pull you closer, hug you tighter.

So much had been broken, but they could be fixed. And it started now.

“I love you more than anything.”

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