#Something for me to riddle with between drafts

[shadovan]

Smack the like for a lich in your askbox!

Could be a meme, could be chaotic mischief, we’ll find out when he gets there.

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⋆˙⟡ All Yours.

Short Summary: There is nothing unusual about Tom returning late from his meetings. However today, there is something off, something you only notice when he is pressed up against you, waking you from your sleep…

Warnings: 18+ only! slight somno, unprotected p in v, Tom Riddle needs you, use of parseltongue, possessive!Tom

A/N: found this in my drafts. Perfect for writers block season :D

wordcount: 1,4k

You only faintly notice the door to your bedroom creaking open, bed squeaking as he lays down beside you—carefully, so as not to wake you. Tom returning so late is not unusual per se, he’d gone out with his Knights the evening prior—meetings that usually take until the early morning hours. 

Now, you’d normally ask about his day—however, you are just too tired, and instead, your eyes flutter closed, and you drift off to sleep again before you get the chance to do so.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve slept when you wake again—met with darkness as you blink slowly, the only light source being the moon’s subtle white glow as it shines into your shared bedroom. Only then do you notice that your duvet is somewhere further down the bed, a cool breeze of air having goosebumps rise on your skin. But there is something else—the faint touch of Tom’s knuckles trailing up and down your bare thigh. You don’t think all too much of it—not until he bunches the silky material of your nightgown around your hips, that is.

“Tom? What are you—“ you whisper, turning your head slightly in an attempt to look at him, but as soon as he hears the soft sound of your voice, he closes the space between the both of you, his hot breath ghosting over your skin as he shifts closer, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck.

If you weren’t awake before, you definitely are now. His hands explore your still half-covered body, following the soft curve of your hips before finding their way upwards, cupping your breasts, kneading slowly over the thin, silky fabric. Your breath catches at the sudden affection, because yes, you do manage to crack his hard shell from time to time, but this? It’s entirely different from what you are used to.

“I missed you,” he mumbles then, voice low and rough, and just like that he gives you a gentle roll of his hips, letting you feel just how much he really missed you.

“Oh—“ you whimper, attempting to find your voice for a proper response, but a proper response to that turns out to be rather difficult to come up with. “I— missed you too, Tom.” His hand has slipped further upwards in the meantime, tilting your head to grant him better access, sucking purple marks into your neck—and at this point, he’s fully rutting himself against you.

When you try to move just a little, his grip only tightens, practically pinning you against him.

“Mh, stay like this. Be good and stay where I want you.” Tom murmurs, hand wandering to the hem of your nightdress, slipping under the material. His hands are warm, soft, fingertips deliberately grazing over your skin. A soft moan spills from your lips when his hand slips between your legs, caressing the already damp fabric of your lace panties, gently rubbing circles over your still clothed clit. And he groans, groans at the feeling of just how wet and ready you are for him.

He soon shifts behind you, withdrawing his hand as he pushes himself up from the mattress. With a subtle nudge on your inner thigh, Tom has you part your legs for him, and your mind is already caught in a haze, obeying without hesitation. He hooks his fingers into your panties, slipping them down and tossing them aside before he positions himself between your legs.

And then, for the first time that night, his eyes meet yours. Hungry with lust, pupils blown wide, locked onto yours.

“Tom—“ you stammer, hand softly wrapping around his biceps, but he interrupts you with a, for him, rare, passionate kiss.

“Just— take it. Need you to take it for me,” he grunts, his voice still thick with sleep, and you think it might be best if he’d just rest. However, as soon as your lips part to tell him just that, the only sound you manage is a sharp gasp—he presses himself against you, tip swiping through your folds to collect your arousal, cutting you off.

Tom doesn’t wait much longer before he sinks himself into you, slowly, too slowly for your liking, but you cannot get yourself to complain. Not when he stares down at you like he physically needs you, like you are the only one he wants, curls messily falling onto his forehead, lips parted—gasping as he feels you wrapped around his cock so perfectly—just how he has been imagining it the entire evening.

“Tight— fuck, so tight.” He groans, hips now finally flush with yours. His head dips, burying himself in the crook of your neck, and he stills then, granting you the chance to feel all of him—feel the blissful stretch on your walls as he lets you adjust to his size. Though impatience—something Tom usually doesn’t show—gets the better of him, gently rolling his hips against yours, tip brushing against your cervix with every slight thrust.

A feeling that has your walls clamp down around him, eyebrows drawn together, and then finally, finally, he moves, pulling out of you completely just to split you open all over again, and somewhere in between, he must have lost the last bits of restraint he had left, groans spilling freely from his lips, showing you a completely new side of him—raw, passionate, and unrestrained.

“You’d never leave me. I know— you’d never do that to me.” He grumbles, all while he’s pushing into you slowly, hot, ragged breaths against your skin as his lips messily place kisses on your neck.

Now you really don���t know what’s gotten into him, if something happened while he was out—nonetheless, you decide to play along. “No, Tom. Never.” You shake your head, your hand reaching out to brush one of his dark curls from his face.

He gives you a satisfied hum in return, gradually speeding up, one of his hands pinning yours above your head as he thrusts into you from above, brushing against your most sensitive spot with every snap of his hips—the combined sensations so intense you aren’t sure how much longer you can take him like this.

And he knows.

Releasing your wrists, his hand slips between you, finding your swollen clit, tracing the bud in slow, tight circles. Your hips buck into his touch, chasing every single bit of pleasure he’s giving you as you feel the coil in your stomach winding tighter, climax approaching faster than your mind can process.

It’s not only you, though. His cock twitches inside of you, thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release, pushing into you as if it’s the last time he gets to do it.

“Tell me you are mine. Fuck— need you to tell me.” He growls, hips stuttering against yours, and you know he is close, so close—

“I am yours. All yours.” You reassure him, and that’s all it takes for him to break, a low, deep groan somewhere from the back of his throat as he spills himself inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum.

He mumbles something under his breath, dragging out his orgasm, something you make out to be his language—parseltongue, words that have your surroundings fade into a blur. Although you don’t understand him, his eyes tell you all you need to know—fireworks explode behind your eyes as you tumble over the edge, your whole body charged with the high of your release as your cunt flutters eagerly around his still hard length, milking the last remnants of his release.

His chest heaves as he breathes heavily, his body coming to rest on top of yours.

You stay like this for a while, giving him the chance to calm down. Your fingertips trace slow patterns along his muscular back, wandering up to his neck and finally swiping through his dishevelled, dark curls.

When he then lifts himself off you, his expression gentle as he pulls out of you slowly, glancing down at you with a knowing look, you realise it’s better not to ask.

And that’s why he values you more than anyone else.

Because you have learned to understand him.

thank you so much for reading! <3 feel free to reblog and leave feedback! :3

—

masterlist. | oneshots.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[sabxynsweet]

sweetheart!reader giving mattheo a handmade gift (like one of those cute d.i.y. ones) and shes all nervous to give it to him but its like the nicest thing anyone has ever gotten him :3

sweetheart!reader gives mattheo a gift

you're all so super telepathic because i have "mattheo gives sweetheart!reader a gift" in my drafts, thank you for the request angel <3

You knock on his door, shifting your weight between both your feet as you hold your hands behind your back.

Mattheo opens the door, already expecting you.

“Sweetheart.” He smirks, like it's a greeting.

“Hi.” You smile, tilting your head up to look at his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything beyond that - he doesn’t have to. He simply opens the door wider to let you in.

“How was your day?" He mumbles, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you in.

"That's what I usually ask." You laugh, feeling floaty already from his presence.

"Sue me for copying you." He says, "You are a very inspiring conversationalist."

"It is one of my many qualities." You play along before you squeal when you remember why your hands are still behind your back.

“I made you something.” You say with a smile, he looks at you with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah?” He grins.

You hum, rolling your sleeves up to reveal four bracelets - a pearl bracelet you always wore, a silver bangle, a pink beaded bracelet with red hearts and a black one, which you slip off your wrist.

You hold it out to him and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not moving to take it.

“I made this for you.” You say cheerfully, he slowly moves to take it from you, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Have you never received a gift before?” You joke before your smile falls when he simply looks down at you with eyes that say 'more or less.'

It wasn't that he had never received a gift before, Theo - who was the only one who knew his birthday - always gave him a little something, whether it was book or a vintage lighter or a cologne. Technically his wand was a gift from his parents.

But this is different, he examines the bracelet, there’s an array of beads - silver, green and black - his favourite colours (though you’ve argued with him that black is not a colour) and a few pearls mixed it that match your own pearl bracelet.

It’s very unlike you but it is so him.

He can't remember the last time he's truly cried but as he thinks about you threading the beads together - carefully curating them to match him - he applauds himself internally for being so brave holding it together.

He doesn’t say anything, he can’t say anything, you take his silence for distaste.

“You don’t have to wear it!” You rush to say, “I was just in Hogsmeade the other day and I saw these in the bead store and I thought they were perfect, I know it’s not really your thing-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that you melt into very quickly.

“I really like it.” He says earnestly when he pulls away, he thinks about how much he really likes you.

Mattheo slips on the bracelet without another word.

You smile, your cheeks hurting with how wide your smile was.

“I never thought I’d see the day Mattheo Riddle wears a friendship bracelet.” You tease.

“Friendship bracelet,” He raises his eyebrows, “Is that what we are?”

He pulls your body flush against his, gazing down at you with his full focus.

You look up at him with wide eyes, your head spinning a little, he smirks at your reaction.

"I'm messing with you," he murmurs, his mouth inches away from yours before he leans in to kiss you.

You never expected him to like your present enough to wear it and you can't help but feel proud of yourself.

"I'm happy you like it." You mumble along his lips.

"I really do." He promises when he pulls away fully.

There's a pause of silence.

"How was your day?" You murmur, he laughs before kissing you again.

He wore his bracelet for the rest of the night and the day after that, then the entire week and if he never took it off after that, well, everyone was too scared to comment on it, anyway.

taglist: @fallingwallsh @espressqe @theodoresvalentine @fanfictiononly4 @genuinelyfloatingsouls @fayezasstuff @glittervame @wxnterwidow333 @thalibaby @cminoko @blainea98 @randomfanpage

[rafesslxt]

so you know how guys when they’re angry they just fuck their girl hard? yeah well what about someone pissing reader off so much that she needs a release so rafe / mattheo just let her ride him and it’s all hard and sloppy and needy😋

nsfw | m. riddle + r. cameron | requested | words:253

warnings: smut, kissing, dom and sub switching, mention of sex

note: i thought why not write for both of them? English is not my first language

Mattheo would enjoy every second of it. When he notices you‘re getting mad or really angry, he already knows he‘s going to have the best sex with you. He lazily holds your hips, letting you do all the work and just enjoying the sight in front of him. Your brows arched, huffing and puffing, sloppy sounds falling through the room. He even would have a cigarette habging between his lips, smirk tugging on the side of his mouth and once in a while he would take a few drags and blow out some smoke to his left, making sure not to hit you with it. "Love when you get all feisty and hot, princess. Makes me adore you even more."

Rafe would also have a smirk on his lips, looking down at his precious girlfriend who‘s always nice but when people tried you, you would explode like a cute little volcano in his eyes. Like Matty he would let you ride him, his grip a little firmer on your hips, teasing you when you would get tired after a while. "What is it eh? Thought u a big girl all tuff and shit when you were mad." He would turn you two around at some point and start pounding you from behind, hard. Getting all the frustration out of you. "Need daddy to help ya‘, right?" He‘d fuck you right into your pillow, face scrunched and bottom lip between your teeth when his habd wanders around you and starts playing with your clit.

a little something, hope you like it and thank you gorgeous the request i loved the idea i just had to do it a bit shorter cause i have too many long storys in my drafts and didn‘t want you to wait for months 💀🫶🏻

tell me in the comments If you were here for Rafe or Mattheo hehe

xoxo sarah <3

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Creepy!yuu and Victim!reader in TWST.

Summary: Okay, from where I left off, the reader had tried unaliving themselves (but guess who got transported the last second they were about to taste freedom?) In short, you and Yuu had gone to TWST not only that but Yuu still played as 'you' and ended up charming them to turn on you, spreading rumors, and making believable stories, horrifyingly enough, they knew how to act and turn the tables on to you. But, since this is non-yandere, they aren't THAT stupid.

...Unless your talking about their affection for Yuu after their overblot (depends)....

A/n: my motivation is so sloppy what the heck, I am going to church tmrw (Sunday) so the asks in my drafts will be postponed a little more (oh god, another preaching thing again....), oh and one more thinggg, I'm ending this part to Pomefiore, my lazy ass can't keep writing anymore my mind is so empty😔😔💔

Tags: @fancyhawk45

Idk, they requested it ig??? I mean like, fics are making me tired so I wanna try imagining with my anons.

How TWST Cast treats you.

Riddle:

Okay, maybe he wouldn't like, turn his whole dorm against you? Listen, he's not sure whether Yuu is telling the truth or not, but he'll make sure to keep an eye on you. A part of him thinks Yuu is strange, with the way they've constantly spoke about you. Don't they dislike you? Why do they keep talking about you so much? Then Yuu says, "They've been following me, forcing me to be with them, so all my entire life I had been constantly surrounded by them. It was an every day routine of mine to talk about them, since they liked that and pestered me into talking about them, and them only. Even going so far as to erase my 'self' so I could act like them a little more..." yeah, some stupid excuse Yuu came up with.

Did he believe it? Quite a bit. Don't get him wrong! He just doesn't know if this is some morbid excuse, until he saw Yuu flinching whenever your around.

He disliked you, but not so much. He has suspicions, but doesn't want to assume. So all he does is sternly scold you, but sometimes his words are so harsh you had assumed he was out to bully you like the rest. If he knew about your situation, he'd be sorry. But for now?

"[Name], Yuu isn't stalking you. You are just paranoid, they are not that kind of person at all. Yuu is a good person with morals, you shouldn't blame Yuu just because you are jealous of their popularity." But you never wanted popularity, you wanted someone to understand the situation you were in.

And most of them wouldn't help. Yuu saw you talking to Riddle... Come, let's talk privately after this, yes?

Trey:

He wouldn't get what was going on at first. When he met Yuu and you for the first time, something in his gut told him something was wrong. He didn't know what exactly. Maybe it was the way you glanced Yuu blankly or the way you looked like you were pleading for something to happen or, pleading for someone?

Either way, he was perceptive. He can say that there is something between the relationship with you and Yuu. It was creepy on how Yuu often looks at you whenever your around. This guy notices that you often avoid others whenever Yuu is around, so maybe he tries to talk to you through private means, and that'll also mean he'll avoid talking about this to Yuu, just in case. He suspects there's more to Yuu's character but from now on, he should be careful with who he speaks with. Yuu seems empty, their eyes, he meant.

But that doesn't mean he wouldn't talk to Yuu anymore. That'd make him suspicious to Yuu, so he'll sneak in a few treats for you every time there's an unbirthday party going on. He would seem like he wouldn't believe you, but trust me, he needs the evidence first before assumptions, and he can't talk to you since you seem afraid of him, and Yuu keeps blocking the way every time he tries.

"What do you mean 'Yuu is stalking you'? I'm sorry, I don't know whether your lying or not, but I'll find a way soon. For now, keep a low profile in front of Yuu, yeah?" Oops, Yuu caught 'you'.

What did they say last time? Guess they'll need to drill it in your head.

Cater:

Listen, as far as I know, especially when it had been shown and stated many times, Cater is perceptive. He hides his emotions well and often covers it with humor. Maybe emotionally depending on the internet as well? (I'm projecting on this part, ignore this) Either way, he's self-aware and he knows creepy vibes when he sees one.

When he first met Yuu, it was subtly obvious to him that something IS wrong with Yuu. The way they talk sounds rehearsed or copied in a way. Mimicry? But he sees the way Yuu acts. It never sits right with him. What for? He doesn't know, but he knows this is a lie. He won't fall for the act and would rather be a bit distant with Yuu, he'd even try to find reader, who is basically now scared shitless of what will happen if they talk to another person again, Yuu tries to convince him to leave Yuu alone, and when he does, Yuu even feeds him lies that he can clearly see through. He doesn't know the relationship you two have but whatever it is, it concerns him. Not much, but enough to feel quite bad for not helping. Sorry, he just doesn't know what to do.

Worse part is, he can't even talk to you without you scurrying off like he's some serial killer! How is he supposed to have any evidence on Yuu if the proof keeps running away??? Sigh, guess he'll come back for you later.

For now, he'll have his eyes and ears on the look out without telling anyone.

Ace:

Okay, for him... Ace isn't the smartest, but not the dumbest either. Humor is coping, and lying effortlessly is one of his many talents, I'm not saying he's lying to Yuu, but more like what he feels. So, at first he never felt suspicious about Yuu, it just felt off when Yuu looks so distant, yet acts so close.

So it was like Ace was talking to a stranger than a friend. Well, not really? Just Yuu feeling distant, to him, at least.

But he can't help but look at you, the person who's constantly behind Yuu's back. What good can you do? You've always ran away, even at the slightest interaction. Why? And you keep glancing at Yuu everytime they talk about your bad deeds while your in the distance. Yes, he noticed you were hiding behind the tree or right around the corners in the hallways whenever Yuu spoke about you. And it's annoying, really. Yuu only ever talks about you, and barely talks about themselves. What is the matter with Yuu and you? Both of you are so weird, to be honest, he wouldn't really be surprised if one of you was a serial killer. Haha! He's joking, but seriously, it is mad concerning that you run away from him whenever he tries to approach you,-

Why was Yuu looking at you like that?

Deuce:

Okay, Deuce isn't really the smartest in the shed, but he's got the spirit? I have not much to say about Deuce except for his confusion. The terror in your eyes reminds him of the times where he was still a delinquent and terrorizing others. Did he do something wrong? Yet, that didn't seem like the case, you've always done that when Yuu is near, and when Yuu isn't around, you'd look around twice to check if Yuu is no where to be seen before talking to him. Hey, why did you bully Yuu before? Did something happen between you two? Yet, when those questions came out of his mouth, you seemed scared in a way, not in a "I've been caught" way, but something more? It was then you quickly left as if sensing someone, not before warning him, "Yuu isn't the person that you see..." before running off, Yuu appears just in time to find Deuce standing akwardly,

What do you mean by that?

Leona:

Do you think he'll give two shits to you??? Nah, at least, not at first. He'd think your some paranoid freak that looks over their shoulders constantly. Yet, he can't help but feel unsettled as well. Whenever he looks or interacts with you, even just a little bit or unintentionally, either you avoid him and run off like a scared prey, or Yuu comes in to interrupt or block him. Seriously, what the fuck is going on with you two? Yuu explains that although you were their bully, you tend to run away from guilt. Leona sets it off and decides to leave you alone, not becaue what Yuu had said, but because it's disturbing. And he wants sleep, so there's that.

It wouldn't make sense in his head, why is Yuu protecting you if you were their bully? He knows there's something off-putting in Yuu's words, something reversed but he doesn't have any proof to say anything about it, nor will he care to lift a finger for it. But one day, he was walking past Ramshackle for whatever reason, and saw both of you talking, not in a pleasant way, though. Your eyes looked petrified and your body was shaking, like some weak prey in the jaws of a predator. Yuu was talking about something, but clearly, it wasn't a good one,

That is, until Yuu's eyes flicker at Leona's.

They close the curtains, Leona is surprised they even saw him.

Will he help? Depends.

Ruggie:

No doubt he couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't trust Yuu, at all. Despite being indebted to them, he felt off when Yuu was around him, it never felt right. It never felt 'them'. But after the overblot? He must say, he is quite impressed with their thinking, it's sharp, too sharp.

So this is where he is now, hanging with Yuu, and keeping a close eye on them. It would've felt right, until he saw you. At first glance he never said anything to you, not ever. But when the octavinelle deal struck in? You look visibly shaken. You didn't want to sleep with Yuu or anybody else. You wanted your own privacy, and the way you've emphasized on wanting privacy, he couldn't help but think that has something to do with Yuu. So he keeps a close eye on them too, because he's not sure what Yuu is capable of. And not like he needs to know about that.

He's concerned, rightfully so. But he doesn't know you and you keep running away. So, how will he help if he isn't a friend or an acquiantence of yours? Not like he'll think like this too much, after all, it's your business, not his.

Did he just fucking saw Yuu smelling your hair while you were asleep in broad daylight? What the fuck...

Jack:

Dilemma going hard fr.

He doesn't know why, but he feels as though, Yuu is lying. But, he won't give in, he thinks of Yuu as a good friend, but whenever Yuu brings up you as the topic to 'vent'. Jack can't help but feel a tinge of jealousy, and also a weird sense that tells him Yuu is wrong.

It's like your best friend tells you that your other best friend is bad and talking shit about you, but the thing is, is that its a close friend so you dont know whether to drop them or just bawl your eyes out and keep them at arms length. Yeah, Jack's dilemma about this btw.

So, whenever he tries to approach you? You just run, for the fear of losing someone again, or... those photos. But, Jack kept on persisting, thing is, Yuu caught on and blocks him, or distracts him whenever he thinks about talking to you.

Was that a knife behind them? He sure hopes not, else he'll apprehend them.

Azul:

He kinda relates to the bullying thing, but he doesn't know that you were the victim and assumes it was Yuu who went through it since they understood him so well. If anything, Yuu was the victim, but he can't help but suspect it as a lie. But since Yuu has so much influence on these people, it is best to stick around until the truth spills over.

He can't get proof without it being shown somewhere in here. So, he'll get Jade and Floyd to be his eyes and ears. He's still a shady business man, after all. But he feels like Yuu has something up their sleeves, like they have something he doesn't know or want to know about.

Whatever Yuu hides, he needs to find out, it's a fair trade, you see? He gets to know you and Yuu, while you and Yuu gets to know him, and sign a contract if things get serious.

Something bothers him, is the fact Yuu had once said something about your... body? Ah, Jade, he wishes that Jade would've said it in a lighter tone, instead of saying it in excruciating detail.

Wait... what the fuck do you mean by the prefect doing that?-

Jade:

I'd say... he knows something about Yuu stalking you. But it is just a gut feeling. He doesn't know the exact things Yuu does, but he does know that Yuu's fascinating behavior is driven with a more obsessive motive.

And all that motive leads to the elusive you. You, who barely been seen talking to anyone but Yuu, despite their claims of a toxic relationship, you seemed more meek than Yuu, is he really sure what Yuu had said was true? Hm. Then again, he never believed it, so it wasn't really a surprise.

He thinks this is amusing, with the fact Yuu uses a facade like any other students would. But that identity alone, something bothers him, is it really a personality Yuu created? Or did it belong to somebody else? What does Yuu gain out of this? What do they want, in order to do this? His bothersome doesn't mean he's off-put, more like a nagging questions are being thrown at him. When he had became Azul's ears and eyes, he had to take every mental note that there was something going on between the two of you.

And to be honest to himself, you do seem cute. A frightened little shrimp. Just as Floyd had said, you do curl up like one! He just thinks your fascinating.

A bit too fascinating than he anticipated, he doesn't know this feeling whenever Yuu blocks him from speaking to you, but even if he did evade Yuu, you would just run away.

Well, this will be an interesting chase.

Floyd:

You can't tell me he isn't smart, well not academically sure, but he can at least read the room (I hope so, my memory is just complete ass atp, helppp), he thinks Yuu is interesting, (hey, so what type of fish is cunning and sly?? I can't make a nickname for Yuu) as well as the scurrying shrimp! You both are so adorable, but obviously, Yuu is faking it while you, are genuine about it. Neh, neh~ is that all your traits? Are you just a scared shrimpy all the time?~ He's not stupid, he knows you wouldn't be scared for no reason.

Which is why, he wants to know more about you. He wants to chase you, and squeeze you. Your interesting, if only you'd stop running. Don't do that! He'll get bored!

Till' he sees Yuu getting reallll close to your space, and you look uncomfortable too.~

He holds his breath until the day the truths spills out.

Kalim:

Okay, he might catch on if the signs were obvious (which, it kinda is) so Kalim will catch up later. And maybe, he'll approach and want to help you, but Yuu, again. Keeps blocking, and honestly? He can't help but feel something that he had never felt before, it wasn't fear. It wasn't anything like that. But, imagine someone pestering you to do something else you clearly don't want to and they still insist.

Yes, that feeling. Annoyance? Maybe. But still, Kalim IS human so he can feel annoyed /gen. And he is most likely trying to evade Yuu so he could talk to you, but you've managed to slip away in the crowds a bit too easily. The people under Yuu's influence are a hassle as well, especially when they block his path to speak with you, akways huddled up or cornering you. He really is worried on what could happen to you.

He really wants to talk to you, but you kept avoiding him, and even begged him not to speak with you.

The threats about your life is getting worse.

What? Hey!- wait, what do you mean by that!?- wait! Come back, please! He really wants to help!

What is Yuu telling you!?

The fact that, he suspects that you're a hostage to Yuu, he doesn't want that to happen.

Trust him, he'll save you with anything he can. Just wait for him, okay? He's not scared of Yuu, he had seen worse.

Jamil:

It is getting disturbing by the day, the fact that Yuu always tends to somehow drag him away from you, it bothers him. Is something the matter with you? No, it couldn't be. He has other things to do, and he shouldn't care about this. But, why does it feel wrong? He knows nothing about you, and he won't do anything about it until he has permission to.

Kalim had taken notice as well, so now he knows how serious it might be in the future.

Clearly, something is going on in Yuu's head, but he surely doesn't want to know, whatever is happening at Ramshackle's.

One night, he decided to drop off some leftovers because he thought you two woukd starve without dinner.

Imagine to his surprise when he saw something he shouldn't. Does he back away? Of course. But he doesn't have his phone. Nor can he tell to anyone since he knows Yuu has more influence on others more than him. Where is this coming from? He hasn't seen this side of Yuu. Or, has Yuu even shown their true colors, yet? Or if they even had any.

He'll help, especially if Kalim is worried about you, he is sure Kalim's request would be about helping you. So he has no say in it.

Did he just see Yuu picturing you from behind? Huh...

Vil:

Okay, so as I've mentioned before, I had hc Vil having stalkers in the past, because you know??? Celebrities' life ain't all that without consequences of being famously known to the world. So, I would say, Vil knows Yuu's strange behavior??? But, let's say, it wasn't clear enough since yk it could be another Rook. But, this one is different, with the way you flinch at loud sounds, especially with the banging noises or fireworks, similar to guns, you'd jump at the sound of it. Why would you, though? Vil doesn't have enough evidence to file a report about Yuu, but especially if Yuu is his 'friend'. Remember, Yuu will always find a way to manipulate things for their own benefit. But Yuu is more cautious around Vil. Yuu isn't completely dumb running around with their mouth filled with bad rumors, since Vil is a well known acter and star, Yuu needs to be careful with how they word things, it needed to be reasonable.

It wouldn't take long before Vil caught on later in their friendship. The reader had been kept hidden for long, long enough to bump into Vil one day, with a menacing stare a celeb could have.

He didn't mean to, of course. He is just curious about you. Not really.

Rook:

Okay, so as you'd expect, he knows something, not all, but something. The thing is, maybe Rook would surpass Yuu's presence detection. So, depending on the scenario you choose, Rook will try to befriend you because your like some hidden star to him.

And actually, I'm not good with hc him but... I feel like he would want to help you without Yuu's knowledge? Like, he hangs around Yuu, sure, but in the background, he's like, giving you company, you know? [It feels like Neige and Vil all over again but in a different scenario...]

It wouldn't be surprising if he knew both Yuu and you were... swapped. Like, you used to be like Yuu and Yuu used to be like you, in a way. Maybe, if he helped you get back to 'yourself' again, you wouldn't feel that empty need to be something once more.

He wants to help, me thinks...

But the thing is, idk how though, so I want you guys to imagine with me 😔🪽.

Epel:

Okay, so his character... uhm, Epel would fall for Yuu, since Yuu is using an identity that doesn't belong to them. More like, they try to fit in as the peoples desired person (which is why I used 'you' for the plot to continue-). To be honest, probably Epel genuinely thinks your the bad person here, since I don't know??? Please for the love of plot my brain is so mushed every time I look at the drafts- anyway, Epel would be like those typical bullies (maybe with Ace if he fell for the tricks as well?)

Sooner or later if he finds the signs, he'll maybe start doubting himself, on who he should trust. If others are doing the same, surely Epel will be in a conflict, not because he doesn't know whether he bullied someone innocent unintentionally, but also was siding with someone much sinister than they appear to be.

And hey, so uhm, is it normal when Yuu sneaks into your room unknowingly?

He thinks he's hallucinating that night, maybe not...

The End.

A/n: hoiii I'm so tired naman... but if any of you have any ideas on how to add more to their emotions and conflicts with their relationship between Yuu and Reader please do so!! I am running out of creative fuel🥹

[urfavfrenchgrl]

muggle studies

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 2k ᥫ᭡ warnings: 18+ | SMUT | MDNI | public fingerfucking ᥫ᭡ summary: you cheated on your boyfriend with your best friend My first one shot omfg I hope you guys enjoy 🥹 For those who know me on Wattpad or A03, this passage was adapted from one of my fics for Tumblr.

You wandered through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, the familiar sound of your footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. Your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your house robe, seeking warmth against the cool draft of the castle. Your stomach churned, a physical reminder of the breakfast you had skipped, choosing instead to avoid the Great Hall altogether. You couldn’t risk seeing either Mattheo or Cedric—both of whom you hadn’t spoken to since the Yule Ball.

You and Cedric had been dating for two months. He wasn’t someone you were in love with, not really, but he was kind, reliable, and he took good care of you. There was a comfort in the stability he offered, something safe and predictable, even if your heart wasn’t entirely in it. But now, with everything that had happened, facing him felt impossible.

Your heart clenched at the thought of Cedric. Facing him now seemed impossible, especially with the weight of your secret pressing down on you like a boulder. The memory of your night with Mattheo still lingered, a dangerous mix of regret and yearning that sent an unexpected warmth between your legs whenever it crossed your mind. It had been a fleeting moment of weakness, a slip in judgment that you couldn’t afford to admit, even to yourself.

You and Mattheo had been best friends since your second year at Hogwarts, inseparable from the start. He had always been like a big brother to you—protective, loyal, and always by your side.

But something had shifted in recent months. The lines between friendship and something more had started to blur. You found yourself noticing things about him you hadn’t before—the way his dark eyes lingered on yours a moment too long, the sharp curve of his smirk that sent your heart racing. It confused you at first, but the more time you spent together, the more your feelings deepened, until you could no longer deny that you saw him differently.

And then came the ball.

Just as you reached the heavy wooden door of your classroom, the last voice you wanted to hear cut through the air behind you, freezing you in place.

“Hey, Y/N!” Cedric’s voice, warm and full of affection, called out. You closed your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before turning around with what you hoped was a convincing smile.

Cedric’s face lit up as he strode towards you, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. He cupped your cheeks between his hands and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, sending a fresh wave of guilt crashing through you. You could barely look him in the eye, knowing what you had done—what you had betrayed.

“Good morning to you too,” you murmured with a soft laugh, stepping back, though the smile never fully reached your eyes.

“I didn’t see you yesterday, or this morning,” Cedric said, his brows knitting together slightly in concern. “Are you avoiding me?”

His tone was gentle, but the question made your stomach twist in knots. What could you say? That you had been running away from your own guilt, from the look in his eyes that always made you feel safe, but now only reminded you of your betrayal?

“What? No! Why would I avoid you?” you forced the words out with a light chuckle, hoping they would come across as casual, though the weight of your actions made you feel anything but.

Stay calm, you thought. You have to keep it together.

“If it’s about the ball… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that,” Cedric said softly, his voice filled with regret. He looked down, his expression pained, as if it was his fault for leaving too soon. But you knew the truth. Cedric had waited for you, and when you showed up late, frustrated and embarrassed, he had left. You had been upset too—enough to leave the ball and end up in his best friend’s arms that night.

“It’s nothing, Cedric, really,” you reassured him, though your voice felt hollow. Over his shoulder, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall further down the hall—Mattheo Riddle, his dark eyes fixed on you with that same dangerous glint.

Your throat tightened, your pulse quickening at the sight of him. You quickly tore your gaze away, focusing back on Cedric.

“I should get to class now,” you said, your voice soft as you brushed a hand over his cheek, forcing yourself to smile. “I’ll see you later?”

“Tonight in my dorm?” Cedric suggested, his smile so pure, so trusting. “The guys will be out at Quidditch practice, so we can watch a movie… just us.”

“Yeah… sounds perfect,” you replied, though the guilt gnawed at your insides like a beast you couldn’t tame. Cedric kissed your cheek and waved goodbye, disappearing down the corridor.

You were in deeper than you thought.

The moment you entered the classroom, you made a beeline for your usual seat at the back of the room, hoping for a moment of peace. You began unpacking your things, your mind racing, but before you could settle in, someone slid into the seat next to you.

You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“That’s not your seat,” you said flatly, not bothering to glance at Mattheo, who leaned back in his chair with that infuriating smirk on his face.

“It is now,” he replied casually, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a retort. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him today, not when your mind was already a storm of guilt and confusion. But when Ron Weasley walked into the room, sporting a fresh black eye, you turned to Mattheo, your anger rising.

“Tell me you didn’t do that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, though the accusation hung heavy in the air between you.

Mattheo’s smirk widened. “He had it coming.”

Your jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you wondered if Mattheo had done it out of jealousy because you and Ron had talked for a long moment during the ball before you rejected his advances. But you pushed the thought away, shaking your head. Ron could be a jerk sometimes, but he didn’t deserve this.

“You really don’t know how to behave, do you?” you muttered under your breath as Professor Rowle began the lesson.

Mattheo chuckled darkly beside you. “Not really.” His hand slid under the desk, finding its way to your bare thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin.

Your breath hitched, your body betraying you as a heat spread through you once more. You clenched your fists, trying to focus on the lesson, but Mattheo’s touch made it impossible. His hand slowly inched higher, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear.

“Mattheo…” you whispered, your voice trembling, your face flushed with both embarrassment and desire.

“Shh…” he whispered back, his breath warm against your ear as his hand continued its slow, torturous movements.

The sensation sent a shiver of anticipation through you, your heart pounding in your chest as Mattheo’s fingers brushed the fabric of your underwear, teasing you with maddening slowness.

“You’d better stay quiet for me, alright?” Mattheo murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper full of promise.

You squeezed the edge of your desk, your breath coming in shallow gasps as your mind spiraled between guilt, desire, and the impossible situation you had found yourself in.

With a surge of confidence, Mattheo’s hand slipped further under your skirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric of your underwear with practiced ease. The moment his fingers found your wetness, your breath hitched, a wave of heat spreading through your body as his touch sent ripples of sensation coursing through you.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you bit down on it immediately, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But it was impossible. The way Mattheo’s fingers moved—slow, deliberate, teasing—ignited something deep within you. His touch was maddeningly light at first, barely grazing your skin, but that only made the ache inside you more unbearable.

Mattheo’s mind wasn’t as calm as his outward expression suggested. Seeing you with Cedric just moments earlier had ignited a fire of jealousy within him. You were still with Cedric—perfect, dependable Cedric—when Mattheo knew that only he could make you feel this way. No one else could push you to the edge like this, and the thought of you being with anyone else—especially Cedric—drove him mad.

His fingers moved with calculated precision, each stroke a reminder that you were his, even if you wouldn’t admit it. You might still be with Cedric, but right now, you were here with Mattheo, your body responding to his touch in ways Cedric could never make it. He was the only one who could drive you to this point, and he knew it.

Without warning, Mattheo slipped two fingers inside you, rough and deliberate, making you gasp. The sudden intrusion sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as your legs instinctively clenched around him. His smirk only deepened as he watched you struggle to maintain control, knowing that the raw intensity of his touch was exactly what you craved, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud.

"Such a good girl for me," Mattheo whispered in your ear, his voice laced with arrogance and desire. His fingers moved faster now, more insistent, as if to remind you of who really had control over you.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your body arching into his touch. Your breath became ragged, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to hold yourself together. But it was impossible. His fingers stroked you with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, until the tension inside you became too much to bear.

“Mattheo, please…” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper, desperate for release.

He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying how you fell apart under his touch. His fingers pressed deeper, drawing slow, maddening circles that made your entire body tremble. "Let go, baby," he whispered again, his breath hot against your ear. "Come for me."

Your body responded instinctively, trembling as the coil of pleasure inside you finally snapped. A rush of heat overwhelmed you, your release crashing over you like a wave as your muscles tensed, your thighs clenching around his hand. You tried to stifle the moan that rose in your throat, biting your lip as the pleasure coursed through you.

Mattheo’s smirk grew wider as he watched you fall apart, his fingers still moving, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling beneath his touch. Finally, he withdrew his hand, slick with your arousal, and brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locking on yours as he slowly licked them clean.

"I hate you…" you whispered, your voice breathless and weak as you tried to catch your breath.

Mattheo chuckled, wiping his hand on his trousers with casual indifference. "No, you don’t," he murmured arrogantly, his gaze still fixed on you. "But you will."

His heart was still racing with the jealousy and possessiveness that had been gnawing at him since that night at the ball. Seeing you with Cedric had only made it worse. He wanted to remind you, selfishly, that only he could make you feel like this. Cedric could never compete, and Mattheo needed you to know that.

You glared at him, your chest still heaving as you tried to regain control of yourself. You had crossed yet another line, one that you knew you shouldn’t have. And the worst part was, you knew Mattheo had done it on purpose—every touch, every tease, designed to remind you that you belonged to him in ways you could never admit out loud.

Mattheo Riddle was going to be the death of you.

And the worst part? You weren’t even sure you wanted him to stop.

[asterafroditis]

hai !! :3 I saw the sua/robin reader and I loved it so much! and it made me wonder if u could make (platonic) housewardens x sua!reader? (preferably fem!reader but idm gn!) the fact that reader misses mizi and wonders what happend to her and ultimately has trauma from alien stage :3

I love all of ur fanfics a lot!! don’t forget to drink nor eat ^-^

𐔌 . ⋮ lingering songs .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Platonic Housewardens x Sua fem! reader

𓏵 1245 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used but there are fem! reader descriptors, light angst

Aqqq took me a while to finally get this out of my drafts bc smth abt it just bugged me but I do hope you enjoy my train wreck writing TT feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

At first glance, Riddle sees you as a poised and refined young lady—an image of grace under pressure. He respects that. But as time passes, he realizes it’s not natural elegance; it’s control. The way you hold yourself, the way you speak—it’s deliberate, as if you’re performing for someone who isn’t there.

You remind him of a caged bird. Beautiful, but trapped in something invisible. It unsettles him.

When you mention Mizi’s name—softly, wistfully—he recognizes the way your voice catches on it. He’s studied grief in textbooks, read about different ways people mourn. But he’s never heard someone carry loss the way you do, as if it’s stitched into your very being.

You don’t cry often, but the weight of your sorrow lingers in everything you do. When you stand by the window, eyes searching the sky, he knows you’re looking for something beyond it. He wonders if you even realize it yourself.

You’re prone to sleepless nights, and he notices. He starts leaving herbal tea by your door, citing Heartslabyul’s rules on proper health. It’s a quiet way of saying I see you. I won’t push, but I care.

If you ever have a panic attack, he’s caught between his instinct to enforce structure and his awareness that grief doesn’t obey rules. He opts for quiet presence, sitting nearby, offering something tangible—warm tea, gentle words, a familiar voice grounding you back to reality.

─────────────────────────

Leona immediately senses something different about you. Unlike others who fear his presence, you meet his gaze with quiet detachment. No apprehension, no admiration. Just... acceptance. It annoys him at first. Then it intrigues him.

He’s not stupid. He’s seen loss before, but the way you carry yours—it’s not just sadness. It’s survival. Like someone who had no choice but to keep going.

“Tch. What’s with that look?” he mutters one evening when he catches you gazing at the stars, eyes unfocused. When you answer with a soft, “I’m looking for someone who isn’t looking back,” he doesn’t respond. But he doesn’t leave, either.

Sometimes he hears you humming when you think you’re alone. The melody is gentle, sorrowful—like a song meant for ghosts. He never asks about it, but it lingers in his mind long after.

He’s not the type to console with words, so instead, he gives you space to exist. If you need silence, he won’t talk. If you need company, he won’t push. And if you need rest, he’ll grumble about it before shoving a pillow at you and muttering, “Take a nap, herbivore.”

─────────────────────────

Azul is drawn to your presence. You exude a kind of mystique, a quiet allure that reminds him of deep, uncharted waters. But when he looks closer, he sees something else—fatigue. A weariness that no amount of rest could fix.

He’s fascinated by your voice. It’s hauntingly beautiful, a siren’s call that lingers even after the music fades. He briefly considers asking if you’d like to perform at Mostro Lounge, but the way your expression shifts—like the mere thought exhausts you—makes him reconsider.

One night, he catches you singing alone. There’s no audience, no stage—just you and your memories. He doesn’t interrupt. For once, Azul allows himself to simply listen.

He recognizes the way your fingers sometimes twitch when holding a microphone, the way you hesitate before stepping into a room full of people. It reminds him of his own fears, his own battles with past humiliation.

When he finally hears you say Mizi’s name or mention your longing, he doesn’t pry. But he does something rare—he offers you silence, a place where you don’t have to perform.

─────────────────────────

Kalim is immediately drawn to you. You’re elegant, composed—but there’s something about you that feels distant. Like you’re here, but not really here.

He loves music, and your voice is unlike anything he’s ever heard. But when he excitedly asks you to sing at a Scarabia event, your smile falters for just a second before you politely decline. The moment stays with him.

He doesn’t push, but he watches. He notices how you linger by the windows during late nights, how your gaze drifts skyward, searching for something only you can see.

When you finally whisper, “I miss someone,” he doesn’t respond with the usual cheerful reassurances. Instead, he simply sits beside you, letting you talk if you want to.

Kalim doesn’t always understand grief, but he understands loneliness. So he makes sure you never feel alone, whether through spontaneous invitations or simply keeping you company in comfortable silence.

─────────────────────────

Vil sees you as a performer, but not in the way others do. He recognizes the way you carry yourself—not as someone who wants attention, but as someone who was forced into it.

You don’t take up space like he does. Instead, you exist in a way that demands attention without seeking it. That, in itself, is an art form.

He doesn’t offer empty comforts when he realizes how deeply you grieve. Instead, he tells you something cryptic: “The world is cruel to those who shine too brightly. But you’re still here. Make sure you stay that way.”

He’s a firm believer in self-care, but when he catches you neglecting yourself—skipping meals, overworking—his tone sharpens. “A broken star is of no use to anyone. You won’t find what you’re looking for by destroying yourself.”

He never asks about Mizi directly, but one evening, as he watches you stare at the sky, he murmurs, “Whoever she was, I hope she knew how much she mattered to you.”

─────────────────────────

Idia doesn’t do well with emotions—especially not ones as heavy as yours. But he sees the signs. The way your fingers sometimes shake when you hold a microphone. The way your gaze flickers elsewhere when he speaks, like you’re remembering someone else.

He recognizes that grief isn’t just sadness—it’s obsession. He understands shutting yourself away from the world because reality is too painful.

He won’t ask about Mizi, but if you ever mention her, he listens. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to comfort you. He just listens.

One day, he programs a small game. In it, there’s a tiny, pixelated version of you and another girl—a girl who looks like Mizi. He never mentions it, but when you find it on your screen, you understand.

This is his way of remembering, too.

─────────────────────────

Malleus is drawn to you immediately. Not because of your voice, but because of your presence—like an echo of something long forgotten.

He understands longing. The way you search the sky for something beyond reach—it’s the same way he waits for letters that never come.

When he first hears Mizi’s name, he doesn’t ask. But later, he quietly wonders, “Do you think she would be proud of you?” The question lingers.

If you ever tell him about Alien Stage, he listens with deep fascination. A world where people had to sing to survive, where every note was a battle. He wonders if, in another life, you and Mizi might have been free.

[ducksido]

hey so how do you think Lilia, Azul, Epel and Riddle would deal with meeting a reader in the kitchen of their dorm. Their reader is a chaotic ninja chef human. Like has you questioning if they even exist and then these boys randomly meet them in the kitchen of their dorm. First time it’s normal and reader leaves with the thing they just made. Blink and they gone. Second time, they walk in on a frightening sight of reader wearing a helmet and holding a blow torch and it’s activated. Reader seems to be doing something with food. The process looks chaotic but it looks amazing when reader puts the torch down. The boys manage to catch reader before they do their disappearing act. (Bonus if Epel ever shows his apple carving skills and the reader is like “you’d be really good at cake decorating”.

(If its not to your standards tell me and i'll do it again)

🦇LILIA VANROUGE🦇

First Encounter: Lilia walks into the Diasomnia kitchen at night, expecting to grab some bat-shaped cookies for a midnight snack, only to see Y/N casually whisking something in a bowl. He tilts his head, intrigued, but before he can say anything, they just poof—gone. The only sign they were ever there is the lingering scent of something delicious. Lilia chuckles. “Oh-ho~ How delightful! A mischievous spirit, perhaps?”

Second Encounter: Lilia walks in again, expecting another fleeting visit. Instead, he is met with Y/N wearing a full helmet and brandishing a blow torch like they’re about to wage culinary warfare. Flames dance across the surface of a crème brûlée (or whatever creation they’re working on), casting eerie shadows. Rather than be disturbed, Lilia claps his hands. “Now THIS is how you cook! What an artful display of chaos!”

He catches them just before they vanish, appearing right behind them like a wraith. “No need to run off, dear chef~! Why not stay for a taste test?” He’s absolutely fascinated by their methods and would love to swap chaotic cooking tips.

🐙AZUL ASHENGROTTO🐙

First Encounter: Azul strolls into the Monstro Lounge kitchen to check on his stock, only to see someone expertly filleting a fish with ninja precision. The knife work is too good. Before he can demand who they are or what kind of agreement they have with his employees, Y/N finishes their dish, plates it beautifully, and then vanishes. Azul freezes. Did he imagine that? …No, the fish is gone.

He calls Floyd and Jade. “Did we hire a new chef?” They don’t know who he’s talking about. Azul is disturbed.

Second Encounter: This time, Azul enters cautiously. And what does he see? Y/N in a full helmet, armed with a blow torch, roasting something with deadly precision. Azul nearly drops his clipboard.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Making a caramel glaze.”

The process is pure madness, but when they set the torch down, the dish looks like it came from a five-star restaurant. Azul is torn between admiration and absolute horror. Before they disappear, he grabs their wrist. “Oh, no. You’re not getting away this time! Do you have any idea how valuable you’d be to my business?!” He’s already drafting up a contract.

🍎EPEL FELMIER🍎

First Encounter: Epel sneaks into the Pomefiore kitchen, hoping to make some apple desserts before Vil catches him. Instead, he finds Y/N casually tossing ingredients into a bowl, flipping a pan like it’s second nature. He watches, intrigued, but the moment he blinks—they’re gone. He checks the counter. There’s a perfectly made pastry.

“...What in tarnation?” He eats it. It’s perfect. He’s now both impressed and weirded out.

Second Encounter: Epel opens the kitchen door and immediately regrets it. Y/N, decked out in a helmet, wielding a lit blow torch like some kind of culinary demon, is creating something otherworldly. Epel instinctively takes a step back.

“...Y’know what? I ain’t even gonna ask.”

But when Y/N finally notices him and sees his apple that he was carving their eyes sparkle. “You’d be really good at cake decorating.”

“Huh?”

Suddenly, he’s getting an in-depth lesson on piping techniques and sugar work. He was not expecting this when he walked in, but he lowkey enjoys it.

🌹RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS🌹

First Encounter: Riddle walks into the Heartslabyul kitchen for tea, only to find Y/N moving around faster than Cater with a viral trend. They chop, mix, and cook with an alarming speed, only to disappear the second Riddle blinks. He stands there, gripping his teacup, completely baffled.

“...Who was that?” Trey shrugs. Cater takes a photo.

Second Encounter: Riddle enters the kitchen again and immediately sees something that nearly makes him faint. Y/N, in a helmet, torching something in his kitchen. HIS kitchen. WITH FIRE.

“WHAT IN THE QUEEN’S NAME—”

Y/N calmly sets the torch down. The dessert looks immaculate. Riddle sputters, trying to decide whether to scold them for unsafe cooking practices or praise them for their technique. Before they disappear, he orders, “STOP RIGHT THERE.”

Cue a very formal interrogation about their qualifications and kitchen habits. If they’re going to be here, they need to follow the rules! (Spoiler: They do not.)

[jacaerysgf]

Unexpected Surprise

Summary: While attempting to gain the support of the vale, jeyne arryn has plans of her own for the prince.

r.q: Everyone forgets house Arryn😔🤘🏻 baddies of the vale Can you write something w Jace and an Arryn maybe lady Jayne’s little sister or daughter or something? Not a totally unreasonable alliance !! They have the coolest castle and knights also Ms Aemma Arryn ™️ like hello!! (I’m impatient as hell for more Vale coverage in season 2)

w.c: 900+

c.w: baela and jacaerys are not betrothed, arryn!reader jenye’s daughter, FLUFF, just a very cute fic, drabble, not proofread

a.n: IVE HAD THIS DONE SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR NO REASON OMGGGG but with the recent jeyne content i felt inspired to write this !! just something super simple <3 HOPE YOU ENJOY !! LOVE UUUU GUYS

masterlist - requests open

“Im sorry, what my lady?”

“I wish for you to marry my daughter.”

This is not how jacaerys thought this would go. When he arrived in the vale he thought he thought he would have to make simple small talk, present some of the benefits, hells even throw some complements her way in order to convince her. This however had not been in his cards.

“I'm sorry my lady i do not understand.”

“My daughter, y/n remains unmarried, around your age, a sweet girl, agree to wed her and me and my men will bend the knee.”

He blinks. He has no clue what to say to her. Jeyne stands after a moment, “I shall go fetch her.” He watches as one of the guards tries to stop her and tells her he will go retrieve the girl but Jeyne seems determined to go herself and he moves letting her leave. Jacaerys stands awkwardly in the middle of the room unsure of what to do.

He is not too sure he can just flat out agree to a proposal without his mother position, it is not like he is a second son, he is the heir to the queen. The next king, his wife to be the next queen. Yet when he sees you walking into the room, wearing a long dress in your house colors with your mother trialing behind with a pleased look on her face he finds himself wanting to agree to the marriage right away.

You are stunning. Easily the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, sure he hasn’t seen that many women but it doesn’t matter. He watches as you bow and mindlessly nods in acknowledgment, unable to take his eyes off you.

Jeyne looks between the two of you with a satisfied look. “Why don’t you show the prince around?” She gives you a pointed look to which you nod, “Of course i would be happy to.”

He walks over and offers you his arm with a smile on his face and you graceful take it before you begin to walk off with him. Jeyne stays behind and smiles to herself.

“My mother is very forward i apologize to you.” He simply shakes his head, he finds himself look at you instead of the halls he’s supposed to be looking at. “It is not an issue my lady, I rather appreciate it.” You look at him curiously but turn away once you notice he is already looking at you. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Many people speak in riddles, not saying what they mean or truly want, your mother is a rare gem.” You smile at the praise of your mother, “She truly is.”

You lead him outside and begin to tell him about the different plants and different sculptures around the courtyards. He is so charmed by you. The way you light up when you spot something and you begin to tell him of a memory you have, like how your mother scolded you for jumping around in the fountain, or when you almost fell out of one of the window's when you fell asleep.

“You truly love this place.” He can tell. The way you smile at the guards as they walk by or the way you know every detail about everything in the walls. But he sees the way you falter slightly at his words, “Am i wrong?”

You shake your head vigorously, “no no i do, its just i have never been away from here. My mother is a very protective woman, she waves away any suitors, she never even lets me leave the eyrie it is ridiculous!” You realize you're letting your emotions show too much and bow your head, “i am sorry that was out of line.”

He grabs your hands and you look at him with wide eyes. “I understand my lady, my mother is similar, i have truly never traveled to far, i wish to explore, once my mother has her rightful throne i believe i will take the time to see westeros a little bit,” He pauses before he speaks again, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “I could take you with me? if that is what you wish my lady.”

He watches as your eyes begin to glow and you beam at him, “truly? oh nothing would make me happier.” He nods and grips your hands tighter, “I shall take you everywhere.”

He does not expect you to throw your hands around his neck and pull him into a hug. He wraps his hands around your lower back, pushing his head into your neck and breathing in your scent. “I will accept your mothers propsal at once. You will fly with me to winterfell.” You pull back and give him an eager look. “Winterfell? Truly?” He nods, “I am to go meet lord cregan stark.”

You can barely contain your excitement at the thought of seeing something that was not the eyrie, especially a place as grand as winterfell.

Jeyne watched you two smile at one another from a window above with a small smile on her face. She does not hear the guard approaching her from behind, “You seem pleased my lady.” She says nothing to him for a moment, simply continuing to stare at the two of you. “Tell my men to ready themselves for war. It seems he will accept my proposal.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[gotta-winwin]

(🐍) ... minghao x reader

⭐ starring: minghao

💌 genre/wc: angst, light fluff / 1.2k

💬 preview: you stumble across old records from a damaged diary that seems to hold the conversations between a student and a boy living within the pages.

tw/cw: slytherin!minghao x hufflepuff!reader, diary format, spoliers for the chamber of secrets, needs previous knowledge of hp lore, abstract death, tom riddle appearance

🪽fic rating: pg

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i'm putting it out in hopes of giving myself some time to work on other stuff hehe. this one's a bit experimental with the format but hope you all enjoy!

p.s thank you so much to @ylangelegy and @diamonddaze01 for beta reading !

hello. fifth year slytherin, here. i found this journal lying in one of the professor’s cupboards - long abandoned, it seems. it looks to contain the mad ramblings of two people, conversing through the pages. i cannot seem to figure out who this once belonged to, pages have been torn out and blurred by water - so i’m writing in hopes another student might. 

read it, and let me know if anything comes to mind. 

if i have to sit through another class with professor bins, i will avada myself. 

finally, something worth replying to. your class notes are utterly boring. 

WHAT THE FUCK THE BOOK SPEAKS

…yes, i speak. 

go away. you’re speaking over my class notes. 

they weren’t good notes anyways. barely competent. abysmally below average. 

i cannot believe i’m being insulted by a book right now.

i cannot believe my pristine pages are being vandalized by an incompetent student, yet here we are. 

mr. book, 

what. 

shut up.

mr. book,

what is it now, incompetent student? 

can you write my notes for me. pls pls pls i will owe you for life.

that is a very dangerous game to play. 

my hand hurts. and you keep saying you’re so smart. write my notes for me.

what house are you in?

hufflepuff. why? 

no. i will not write your notes for you. 

bro. 

what is a bro ?? 

you know what, never mind. i’ll write them myself. i hope the ink drowns you. 

incompetent student  hufflepuff girl y/n?? respond to me now. 

yes, book?

MY NAME IS NOT BOOK 

you refused to tell me your name so i’m sticking with book. mr. book. 

can you go to the dungeon bathroom and check one of the faucets for me. 

uh. why? 

because i said so. 

i’m going to waterboard your pages.

you’re quite snappy for a hufflepuff. just go check. 

say please.

no. 

i’m holding a cup of water above you right now.  hello? mr. book?

please. check the faucets. 

see? wasn’t so difficult. i’ll go now.

minghao. 

what? 

my name. stop calling me mr. book

MINGHAOOO

what. 

i’m bored. 

silly girl. and what am i supposed to do about that?

tell me about yourself. when were you at hogwarts? 

a long time ago. 

psh. of course i know that. 

professor bins was still alive when he taught me. just as boring, trust me. 

ooo what else? who were your friends? anyone famous? 

i wouldn’t know. i never graduated. 

what? 

the faucet. did you check? 

i did. there’s like a snake or something, but it didn’t do anything. 

oh. y/n? 

yeah? 

don’t go to that bathroom anymore. 

why?

just don’t. 

hao. people are saying there’s a snake in the walls. 

what do you mean?

there was blood on the walls too. talking about the chamber of secrets. 

fuck. 

minghao? do you know something? 

don’t go anywhere alone. promise me. stay with your friends. 

i’m scared

you should be.

stop that. 

what? hao? 

grown fond of your little friend, xu minghao? 

tom. stop.  i’m sorry, my heart. ignore him. 

who? hao, what is going on?

has he neglected to tell you? he isn’t the only inhabitant of this journal. and turns out, he isn’t strong enough to silence me.  keep hiding, y/n. i’ll find you soon enough. 

hao? 

i’m sorry.

i think i’m starting to go a bit crazy. 

is everything alright? are you safe? 

i’m fine, hao. you worry too much. 

i must admit that i’ve grown fond of you. 

even if i’m a hufflepuff? 

you’re the most tolerable hufflepuff i know. 

:)  is the uh. tom guy still with us?

my magic suppresses him in short periods of time. we’re alone at the moment. 

i still don’t understand. both of you are…inside the book. 

tom was here first. the journal was given to me my fifth year, and i spoke to him - much like you right now. from what i’ve gathered, this journal holds a piece of his soul. and a piece of mine as well. 

how? why? 

[redacted] [redacted] 

you are beginning to care for the girl.

i admit she has grown on me.

no. you’ve grown to love her. our souls are intertwined whether you enjoy it or not. do not pretend i cannot feel your emotions. 

have mercy.  spare her. 

are you finally regretting your choice, xu minghao?  you once promised me a life in exchange for your life and access to your soulmate. so i spared you, and stored you here with me.

please. 

this is what greed gets you, my dear friend.  you promised me a life. and i choose hers.

please. 

finally. you learn to beg. 

she is innocent. 

she is your soulmate. the strongest magic our world has. and for that, she is valuable. 

my heart. 

hao? 

i need you to destroy this journal. now.  

what? why? 

tom must be stopped. i will not let him harm you. destroying the journal will destroy his soul too.

but you’re in the journal too.

yes. a small price to pay for your life. 

i won’t do it. 

you must.

no. i’m not killing you.

i’ve been dead for a long time, my heart. 

i won’t. you cannot make me. 

you’re wetting the pages with your tears. stop crying. 

hao…

do it. just because the journal is gone doesn’t mean i won’t be with you. every step of the way. 

how cute. 

note: 

> xu minghao: previous slytherin student, renowned potion student. his name is on one of the potion award plaques in the great hall. he died during the second opening of the chamber of secrets, an underground location rumoured to house the slytherin basilisk. 

> y/n: referred to as ‘my heart,’ there is no real indication of who she is. while there is a professor portrait in the headmaster’s office who shares the same name, i cannot be certain they are the same person. 

> tom: he can only be assumed as he-who-shall-not-be-named, a dark wizard who was killed by the-boy-who-lived years ago. 

note: 

> the pages are burnt at the edges, erasing most of the conversation that would allow this to make more sense. it is clear to me that someone destroyed this. 

note: 

> i found something when searching the bathroom mentioned in the first couple entries. i will clip it here. 

is he gone?

for now. i cannot contain him for much longer. you must hurry.

you cannot expect me to do this.

from the short time i’ve come to know you, i know that despite being a hufflepuff, you hold the courage of a gryffindor, the brains of ravenclaw, the wit of a slytherin.  do not be afraid. 

are you not afraid? this could kill you.

i have to admit a part of me still fears death after all this time.  but this is my price to pay. i love you, even in the short time we had. 

i love you. even if this version of you is only a figment of what you were. 

note: 

> a point i must bring up: minghao refers to y/n as ‘my heart.’ at first i thought it was just a term of endearment, but upon further research:  Soulmates are rare in the wizarding world, although not at all impossible. Soulmates share more than their magic, they share their hearts. One cannot die if the other is still alive -- making soulmates the most powerful form of magic to exist. It may be the only way to cheat death without the use of a horcrux.

[birdofwildness]

☾library meet

Warnings::sexual H*rassment from a student, teacher X student, jealousy

☾Tom Riddle

Summary:: Tom gets jealous when he sees you sitting next to a boy in the library

I sat in the library, surrounded by a pile of books, trying to focus on my Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. My parchment is half-filled with notes—methods of countering curses, variations of Protego, curse-breaking charms—but my handwriting becomes messier as fatigue sets in. The dim lamp casts flickering light on the shelves, while the rest of the library is cloaked in darkness. Everyone else has already left.

Or at least, that’s what I thought.

A faint noise reached my ears from somewhere among the shelves. I flinch and glance over my shoulder. I see no one, but the uneasy feeling lingers. Maybe it was just the draft moving something… or perhaps someone is actually there.

My heartbeat quickens. A part of me tells me to ignore it and continue studying, but curiosity got the best of me. Cautiously, I stood up, my hand slipping to my wand, and I quietly stepped between the shelves.

"Lumos." I whispered, and a faint light ignited at the tip of my wand.

The circle of light slowly sweeped over the bookshelves, shadows shifted between the rows. The sound came again, this time closer. I’m not alone.

My heart still pounded when I suddenly spotted the source of the noise.

A guy standing there, holding a book in his hands, looking slightly flustered. A fellow student—I didn't know him well, but I’ve seen him before at Hogwarts.

"Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just looking for a book." He said with a smile on his face.

The tension in me eased a little, and with a sigh, I lowered my wand.

"It’s fine. I just thought… never mind." I mumbled, heading back to my desk.

The boy followed and, without a word, sat across from me. For a while, he silently observed my parchment before.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts? That’s a serious subject. Want some help?" he offered.

"No, thanks." I replied quickly, turning back to my work. I’m was not in the mood for small talk.

But he didn't give up.

"Come on, I’m sure a little help wouldn’t hurt. I studied this material not too long ago." He insisted.

A deep sigh escaped my lips. He clearly won’t leave me alone unless I let him help.

"Fine… okay." I said reluctantly, shifting my parchment slightly so he could see it.

He smiled in satisfaction and moved closer to the table. For a while, we actually discussed the assignment—he commented on curse-breaking charms, adding some of his own thoughts—but gradually, I began to sense that he wasn't there for studying.

He glanced at me occasionally, holding his gaze a little too long. Some of his remarks weren't even about the assignment anymore but about me.

"You know, it’s impressive how seriously you take all this. You’re so determined… it’s a really attractive quality." He remared with a half-smile.

I didn't know how to respond to that. I just stared down at my parchment, trying to steer the conversation back to the exam.

"Uh… so, do you think Protego Totalum would be more effective against a stronger curse, or would a custom shield charm be better?" I asked quickly.

"Oh, sure, Protego Totalum is good, but I think it’d be even better if you relaxed a little sometimes." He leaned closer across the table.

Things were getting more and more uncomfortable.

My stomach tightened when the boy’s hand suddenly slides onto my thigh. I froze for a moment—I wasn’t expecting that, and I didn’t immediately know how to react. He just smiled confidenty, as if this was completely normal. But I felt only one thing: discomfort.

"Don’t do that." I said firmly, trying to keep my composure.

The boy looked surprised, then chuckled awkwardly.

"Relax, I was just being friendly."

I pressed my lips together. It didn’t feel ‘friendly’ at all, and I knew I didn’t have to justify myself, but I still felt uneasy.

"I actually want to study. So please, take your hand off me." I demanded.

His hand remained on my thigh. I searched his gaze.The air between us grew tense, and I felt uncomfortable.

Then, my train of thought was interrupted by the sound of firm footsteps. A cool presence spread through the dimly lit room, and when I looked up, I immediately recognized the figure who just entered.

Professor Tom Riddle.

His black robes practically billowed behind him as he approached, his gaze sweeped over us with icy calm. I immediately pulled away, taking advantage of the boy’s momentary distraction.

Riddle stoped at our table, his eyes scanning the scene without a word. The boy’s hand was long gone from my thigh, but my face still burned.

"Why are you so damn loud?" He asked quietly, but his voice was chilling.

The boy instantly straightened, as if suddenly he rememberes that a professor was standing before him.

"I was just trying to help with the exam…" he started, but one look from Riddle silenced him.

My heart still raced, but I tried to appear calm. I didn’t know exactly what Riddle saw, but I was certain the whole situation has shifted.

"The library is for studying. If someone has other intentions, I suggest they leave." He warned.

The boy nodded silently, hurriedly gathered his belongings, and exited the library.

I was left alone with Tom. His gaze lingeres on me, staying a little longer than necessary. That cold, unreadable look he always wore in public hid something more—something only I could decipher.

Without a word, he pullee out the chair beside me and sat down. His movement was composed, but I could feel the tension beneath it. For a moment, his eyes flickered to my parchment as if he was genuinely interested, but then they returned to me.

"What was that?" He asked quietly.

I presses my lips together.

"Nothing." I replied quickly, but even I didn't believe it.

"Nothing? It didn’t look like nothing." He said, leaning in slightly. "I saw that boy put his hand on your thigh. And I saw that you didn’t move away immediately."

His words cut coldly, and I immediately felt the sting of protest in my chest.

"Because I was shocked!" I whispered, gripping the edge of my parchment nervously. "I didn’t want him to touch me, Tom. You know I came here to study—for your exam."

He watched me silently for a moment, his face wearing that inscrutable expression he always maintained in front of others. But I knew him well enough to notice the change. The darkness in his eyes slowly settled, and his fingers no longer tapped impatiently against the table’s edge.

Then, he smiled. That signature, faint smile he only allows a select few to see.

"Of course, you’re studying." He said, and all the previous tension dissolved. "But you could have asked me for help. You know I’d gladly assist you."

His voice was calmer now, even… gentle. Something no one else would ever expect from him, but I do. Because with me, he is always different.

I smiled faintly, feeling the last of my unease fade.

"I know." I answered softly. "I just didn’t want to bother you."

Tom leaned in slightly, then simply shook his head.

"You never bother me." He stated firmly, his gaze locking onto mine.

And in that moment, I was certain—if anything ever threatened my ‘peace,’ Tom would make sure it would never be a problem again.

"Now get on your knees,doll. And I'll give you that O"

[imababblekat]

Oops

Prompt: It's been a grueling few weeks of dishing out ass whooping's to bad guys, and to top it all off is your exhaustion of the ever growing guilt of keeping your true identity a secret from your best friends, the Ninja Turtles. Surely all this fatigue of hero work and life crisis thinking wouldn't accidentally solve your later issue, right? . . .Right?

prev(don't need to have read for this post)

A/N: Wow, this has been a long time waiting huh?! Welp, I finally got my thoughts into words, drafted, and edited! This is my personal interpretation of how the turtles would find out spiderman reader's identity. I really wanted to get this out before delving into other ideas of how it'd happen from requested prompts sent into my ask box. I'm so happy to finally get this out to y'all. It's short and sweet, but I hope y'all can enjoy nonetheless <3

◌(s,p) = spider persona◌

~xXx~

The window slides open with a snap, two legs swinging over the sill like heavy weights as you tumble into your darkened room. You can't even be bothered to turn on the small touch lamp resting on the nightstand, body riddled with exhaustion from today's bad guy butt kicking. With a heavy 'mph', you throw yourself onto your plush bed, reveling in it's softness and the slight relief it offers your aching muscles.

"There's gotta be an evil convention this week or something, because shit man.", you grumble tiredly into your comforter.

The past week had been non-stop for criminal activity. From small no good doers to the big professional criminals, you had hardly a moment to breathe it seemed.

With an aching neck, you turn your head for better comfort, tired gaze landing on a small quilt thrown across the top of your pillows. Any previous annoyment had dissipated upon gazing on the gift, memories of the a certain tough to the bone turt bashfully handing you the handmade quilt for your birthday.

Dimples quirked in the corners of your cheeks, a smile etching its way there. Despite the mountainous call to duty you faced these past few days, you were at the very least grateful to not have to deal with it all alone. No, with four mutant ninja turtles as friends, you five were New Yorks greatest bunch of vigilantes. Thinking back to a time when you were alone in keeping the streets of this wondrous city safe, it's hard to believe you could have ever handled so much without your four best friends. Now, so much time later, it's as if you, Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey had been a crime fighting team since day one. Something, you could never had imagined but would forever be beyond grateful for.

A sudden spark of guilt ignited deep within your chest, burning away your fond smile and replacing it with a sorrow frown.

Being such amazing and close friends, one would think no secret wasn't shared between the lot of you. However, that wasn't quite true, and whether the mask was on or off, your growing repentance of this secret identity matter only seemed to continue growing as time passed.

It wasn't that you didn't want to tell them. Truthfully, you did, but it was more of a fact that you couldn't. The four brothers already had a major player in the criminal underworld on the back of their shells, the Foot Clan. Adding your own long list of enemies to that, and surely their hard shell would shatter. Something you would never want to happen to them, simply from knowing that their normal friend, (y/n), was not so normal and ordinary after all. You already lost important people in your life, you weren't about to lose them too.

However, this sensible logic did very little to quell the ever growing guilt of hiding something so important from them, when they put so much trust in you. Both of you at that; you as normal, everyday (y/n) and you as the amazing (s/p).

With a pang to your head, you released a loud groan, ignoring the ping of your phone and instead opting to force your self off the comfort of your bed.

“I need food. All this life crisis thinking is giving me a headache.”, you grumbled, pushing into your apartment.

The smell of left over pizza wafted into your senses, a low rumbling noise from your stomach echoing your desire for nutrients as the eyes of your mask widened in excitement. Rubbing your hands together you quickly made way to your small living room, the box of pizza sitting like a jewel in a museum perfectly atop your coffee table. Hopping over the back of the couch, you quickly reached for a slice and took a deep inhale to truly appreciate the godly scent. For leftover pizza, it sure smelled rather fresh.

The thought had you pausing for a second, trying to remember when exactly you had bought this food. However, just as quickly as the concerning thought came, it left with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Eh, senses must still be high from kicking so much ass today.”, you exclaimed, ripping off your mask to take your first mouthwatering bite.

Your senses, however, were in fact not still highly aware as you'd thought.

CRASH!

The sudden loud sound of breaking glass had you nearly jumping out of your skin, spidey senses actually jumping into action this time and going haywire. With a swift turn of your head, mouth awkwardly agape and pizza drooling cheese from your hand, wide eyes locked onto four pairs of equally astonished stares. Well, somewhat equal anyways.

Because nothing, and I mean nothing, could equate to the absolute astonishment that riddled through none other than Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo in this singular moment. For you, all you could do was stare back frozen like a deer in headlights. Well, if a deer in headlights had a slice of pizza dripping cheese into their lap instead of their still agape mouth.

With gear still strapped on, and fire scape window billowing your curtains open with a chill breeze, it was very clear that the four had just arrived from patrol. The patrol they had with you, as the amazing (s/p). Recalling the ding of your phone moments ago, you internally cursed, now realizing without a doubt that it was for certain one of the brothers letting you know as (y/n) that they were headed over. Something your tired brain forgot had become habit for them.

Clearing your throat, you awkwardly waved a greasy hand at the still flabbergasted quartet.

"H-hey guuuuys~"

Hand still loose from once holding the now broken glass of grape juice, it was not Leo, not Raph, not even Mikey who reacted first, but Donnie, eyes wide and brows narrowed behind his crooked glasses, voice echoing what his three other brothers must have also been thinking.

“You have to be shitting me!"

~xXx~

[rafesslxt]

HII<33 i love ur work and i was wondering if you could write one where matt sees u with another guy and gets really really jealous and it ends with mattheo like really hard core fucking the reader like bend over and stuff? (can u tell i’m ovulating?)

[sorry for the late answer but I’m cleaning my drafts and requests right now and since I have so many I‘m gonna keep them a little shorter, hope u still like it 🫶🏻]

+ i already had something similar in my drafts so i mixed it

jealous jealous jealous you | mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo wants to make you jealous but you‘re way ahead of him

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, spanking, doggystyle, jealousy from reader and mattheo, different house reader

words: 1,2k

Mattheo thought he had the best plan ever. He knew you liked him, he saw the looks you gave him when you thought he wasn‘t noticing. The way he could always get under your skin with his annoying comments, your cheeks heating up when he whispered them into your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin.

But he was just as stubborn as you. So of course he wouldn‘t just admit he liked you. He wanted to make you say it so he had a plan.

Tonight it was a party where all the houses gathered together to celebrate. You knew Mattheo would be there ao of course you wore the shortest and tightest dress you owned with cute little heels on your feet. When you entered the party, it didn‘t took long for you to find Mattheo, dancing with Pansy. But what they both didn‘t knew was, you knew that Pansy liked your best friend Jane so it was obviously what kind of game he played.

But two can play that game. It didn‘t take long for you to find someone to dance. There was that boy Colin from your house that eyed you up and down so you took your chance. He pulled you towards him while dancing, your hips moving to the music and your ass brushing his jeans when you turned your back to him while dancing. You stood perfect, exactly in sight for Mattheo who looked at you over Pansy‘s shoulder.

You smiled at him provoking, leaning forwards and shaking your ass in front of Colin. That‘s it. That was all it took for Mattheo to let go of Pansy and storming towards you. Without a single word he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you away from the party.

"Let go of me Mattheo!" you groaned, but he didn‘t answer and didn‘t stop walking either. He took you up to the astronomy tower, pushing you against the railing so you where squeezed between it and his body.

"I‘m so fucking done with your games." he whipers angrily into your ear while he places his hands on your hips. "Don‘t know what you mean." you answer him with a cheeky smirk. He scoffs, turning you around with one swift motion, pushing your upper body over the railing.

"Mattheo!" you gasp loudly as your hands hold themselves at the metal beneath you. "I‘m gonna teach you a lesson now baby. It‘s called 'nobody‘s allowed to touch you besides me' understand?" be asks while slowly pushing the little fabric of your dress over your ass. You hear him groan behind you, his hands instantly on your skin.

Suddenly a sharp sting goes through you, making you gasp again in shock. You look over your shoulder and see Mattheo already smiling at you, them his hand coming down again on your cheek, leaving a mark. You bite down on your bottom lip trying to hide the moans that wanted to leave your mouth.

But soon he hits harder and you feel the wetness between your legs. "I said: Do you understand?" he repeats himself with such a sharp hit on your ass this time that a short scream left your mouth.

You feel him pulling your panties down and also hear him groan at the sight of your wet pussy. "Fuck I should have done that way earlier. Who could have known that our perfect little princess is that desperate huh?" His fingers wander over your wetness, teasing your clit in a circling motion.

Whimpers leave your mouth, wanting nothing more tham to feel him inside of you. "Please.." you start begging and wiggling your hips against him. "What was that princess? Couldn‘t quite hear you." he says in a mocking tone, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. "Please fuck me, need you, please." little whines leave your mouth which make his cock harder every second.

He pushes two fingers inside you, making you moan desperately. He leans forwards until his mouth is next to your ear again and whispers "I‘m goimg to fuck you so hard that you won‘t even remember anything from today but my cock inside your wet little pussy."

His fingers pumping and his thumb teasing your clit made you lose your mind, making you a brainless mess. "Shit look at you already so stupid just from my fingers. What‘s gonna happen when I fuck you with my cock?" he says in a devilish tone.

"Mattheo Please.." you beg again. "Need you inside me." You hear him fumbling with his belt, opening his pants and pushing them down with his boxershorts. He rubs his cock against your ass and chuckles. "Feel this princess?" You bite your lip and nod.

He breathes out, excited to already feel you. "I‘ve waited so long to do this.." Slowly he drags his tip through your wet folds, grunting at the feeling. Then he pushes in, inch for inch, biting his lip too.

"Oh fuck you‘re so tight baby. Just waited for me to pound that pussy." he moans as he feels your walls clench around him, sucking him in. Your eyes roll back and your hands tighten around the railing.

His hands grab your hips even tigther, fucking you from behind. One of his hands goes around your body finding your clit to bring you even closer to your high. His other hand finds your throat and squeezes it, smiling when he hears your moan and your walls around him tightening.

"It feels so good Matty.." you mumble, your eyes already closed with parted lips. His fingers against your clit worked even faster, making you tremble in front of him. "Oh baby I know, and guess what?" he leans forwards again whispering into your ear. "I‘m gonna be the only one who touches you. Never ever will anothet man touch you. You‘re mine princess. And I am your‘s." His touch got a little softer around your throat as he says this. "I- I‘m yours Mattheo." you moan, feeling your heart swelling in your chest.

"That‘s my good girl hm, now come for me on my cock." Your eyes squeeze shut as his hips thrust harder and faster, his fingers still working on your clit until you see stars.

You grab his arm behind you squeezing it as you come around him with a lout and broken moan. "Oh fuck.." Mattheo smiles down on you and groans as he feels your walls spasm. "Come inside me." you mumble quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

"You sure baby?" he asks again, biting his lip when he feels his climax nearing. You nod your head, feeling powerless after your orgasm. With a final thrust he stops inside you and comes inside you and let‘s out a short and quite whimper, groaning afterwards to conceal it. But you heard anyways and smile already ready to tease him.

When you both calm down again, all sweaty and a little shaky, he pulls you off the railing against his body, kissing you for the first time. "Should have done that way earlier too.." You laugh lighty and look up into his eyes. "You have all the time now to do so.." "hmm i hope so." he answers, leaning down to kiss you again with all the love he had in him.

thank you for reading 🫶🏻

taglist: @sofa-couch26 @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username

xoxo sarah <3

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, soft dom Steve, outercourse, P in V sex, morning sex, unprotected sex

Fat cock Harrington but it’s just the tip. This is a softer take on the trope but I do have a Perv! Steve version in mind for a future drabble.

A/N: the writer’s block has been pretty severe up in here so please be kind. Too many ideas but the words just aren’t wording, you know? my drafts are mountainous at this point but I am beyond delighted to have finally finished one of them and I hope I’ll be able to get the rest done too.

Divider by roseschoices

The sheets must have slipped off you again, a result of the way you sometimes moved around in your sleep. Or maybe they’d been tugged off this time? You suspected the latter when you roused to the feeling of his palm smoothing over the curve of your bare hip, fingers squeezing lightly when he saw your eyes begin to flutter open.

He’ll be leaving for work in an hour, you realize, when you spare a quick glance at your alarm clock, pushing back slightly to feel his hardened cock against your ass.

“Mm, gotta have you angel. Can I?”, Steve’s voice comes out low, still heavy with sleep and something more as he rests his chin on your shoulder, fresh stubble rubbing against your cheek.

The two of you are still naked from the night before, the bruises you’d both lovingly and desperately made on each other’s bodies still deepening in color and here he was, eager to be inside you again so soon.

“You’re insatiable”, you tease in an equally sleep riddled tone but show your interest by grinding against his cock again. The friction earns you a groan and another squeeze on your hip.

“Please? 'Couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t fuck you one more time before I left”

You’re too sleepy to roll your eyes but you manage a lazy giggle instead, finding Steve's particular brand of begging oddly endearing. “Fine. Wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over it”, you huffed playfully, giving him permission to let his fingers roam lower.  

"You're perfect", he thanks you in praise, teeth gently nibbling your earlobe. His fingers skim over your curls and ghost over your clit, detouring from the bud down to your still swollen folds. When he parts them it’s as if the rest of your body has been shaken awake, finally feeling the effects of last night when an ache of a different kind makes itself known between your legs.

The feeling isn't enough to alarm you nor does it make you want to stop, thinking little of the noticeable but weak throbbing until he attempts to work a finger inside. It's then that your core protests with a pain that's mostly dull but still unpleasant enough that your shoulders twitch and your thighs snap together by reflex, inadvertently trapping his hand there.

Steve mistakes it for jolt of pleasure at first until he hears the pain behind your whining and feels the urgency with which your fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Too sore”, you yelp, voice small and tone verging on wounded but you're able to slump against his chest with relief when he pulls his fingers away quickly.

“Shit, baby I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

He's quick to try and soothe you and your thighs clench again, this time for a better reason when he cups a hand over your cunt, his warm, gentle touch quelling the ache he didn’t mean to agitate.

“Yeah, I’m okay”, you assure him as the throbbing subsides, humming appreciatively at the way he's holding you.

This has happened before. The result of when things turned a little rough in the bedroom.

The back curving orgasms and euphoric tears streaming down your face as he fucked you into the mattress always came first, the aching reminder of it all following the morning after.

But you never regretted it.

And it's never stopped you from getting off before.

“Still want you to use me”, you offered with a meaningful look over your shoulder and the boy realizes what you're referring to - something you usually let him do whenever you wanted to feel him but couldn’t handle having him inside you yet.  

“Yeah? Sure you want it?”, he asks sweetly, full of genuine concern for you but you're able to pick up on a hopeful lilt that slips through too. You didn't blame him, reminded of the need he feels for you when his cock twitches against your ass.

You nod, sure that as long as there was no penetration the pain wouldn’t flare up again.

“Yeah, I do" you answered, showing him how much you wanted it too when you placed your hand over the one he had on your sore cunt, grinding softly against his palm with a pleased whimper. "But be gentle, okay?”

"Promise", he leans forward to place a kiss on your cheek before shifting positions.

You smile up at his halo of mussed up chestnut hair when he hovers over you, gently rolling you on to your back. The early morning chill that seeped into your shared bedroom usually had you pulling the sheets up to your chin and pressing yourself up against your boyfriend for some extra warmth but now, laid bare underneath him, you feel as if you might perspire from the mounting tension.

You remember to lift your hips when he reaches for a pillow, allowing him to slide it underneath you before spreading your legs to accommodate him.

Seeing the glistening arousal between your legs makes Steve's head feel pleasantly fuzzy, spitting into his palm and working it onto his turgid cock with a few quick strokes.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”, he makes sure to add, guiding his cock to slot it between your your puffy folds, resting his flushed tip against your clit.

"Okay", you breathe out, the word very nearly tapering into a needy whine because you're already feeling the urge to nudge your hips forward and make his length rub over your clit just right.

When he does roll his hips you're reminded of just how sensitive he's left your bundle of nerves from the night before, clit pulsing from the gentle, languid motion of his cock sliding over it.

"C'mon, tell me what's going on in that pretty head. My girl feeling alright?", he coos down at you, making sure to scan your face for any signs of discomfort.

Steve's relieved when your expression turns blissful, the softest gasp escaping your parted lips like a secret meant only for him. "Mm, so good...keep going".

The look on your face encourages him to become a little bolder, thumb coming down to keep his shaft pressed firmly against your folds and the weight of it on your delicate core makes you curse with pleasure.

“Woke up hard this morning because of you, you know? y ’had me dreaming about this pussy all night”, he grunts out, canting his hips forward the slightest bit faster, careful not to overdo it in your tender state.

Another bolt of pleasure strikes and settles warm inside your belly, curling your fingers around his shoulders, eyes half lidded but fixed on his own.

"Fuck, Stevie it's so sensitive - feels amazing", you sigh high and pretty for him.

"Making such a mess already. All this for me?", hazel eyes flicking down to tease the fresh, creamy slick that's dripping out of you and clinging to his cock.

Part of you wants to argue back that some of the steadily growing mess is of his own doing, spying the dewy precum that beads at his slit but you're a little too caught up in the feeling coiling inside you to manage a quip right now.

You liked it when he rut against you this way, each thrust stimulating your puffy clit closer and closer to the edge, but rivaling your own pleasure was the satisfaction you felt when you watched him reach his own peak like this.

Knowing you could make him cum without even letting him inside you made every soft moan he spilled sound sweeter and the pink dusting his cheeks seem that much prettier - like you'd earned it the hard way.

Your favorite part was watching him still after you'd reached your own climax, cockhead pressed right up against your needy clit before it erupted with his release. You'd cry out every time the pearly, viscous spend spurt against your pussy in hot ropes, collecting on your skin and the matted curls on your mound.

Things seemed to be heading for the same conclusion this time round too, at least you had intended for it when you asked him to use you. But with the way he's working you up with every filthy word and knowing he wouldn't be able to lie in bed with you afterwards, all satisfied and spent, you were starting to change your mind.

A reminder of the discomfort you felt when he'd tried to finger you still fresh in your mind but feeling so, so terribly empty, you weren't able to ignore the other thought that blared in your head. That if he angled himself just the slightest bit lower, he might be able to slip in and make that lonely, empty feeling go away.

You wanted that stretch again, even if it hurt.

"Wanna try taking it inside again”, you blurt out, tears starting to blur your vision.

Maybe you should have considered a softer approach. One that wasn't so blunt, feeling a twinge apologetic when his hips stutter and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat with a thick gulp.

You knew you shouldn't spring these things on poor Steve. Least of all when he's got you naked underneath him. The boy was weak for you to the point that an admission like that could risk having him cum on the spot.

The conflicted look on his face was expected. What you were asking for was different from the night before, a night although filled with plenty of manhandling and welcome roughness, hadn't consisted of anything that had pained you. Not in any way that had you calling out your safe word at least.

"I don't know...”, he starts but trails off, looking positively torn when you begin to whine and buck your hips, folds dragging along his cock.

"Please, Steve? 'just wanna try...you'll be gentle with me wont you?"

The vein at his temple is noticeable now, jaw clenching too.

"No fair, baby...going all sweet on me like that", he strains, resolve crumbling.

You pout, so close to swaying him.

"Just once more. Promise I'll tell you if it starts to hurt, okay?"

His expression shifted as if considering. He hated saying no to you. Especially when your eyes filled such unbridled want.

"Fuck, alright".

You mumble thank you's against his lips when you pull him in for a quick kiss, legs spreading wider for him as his tip slips down to press against your entrance. There's more to take in this time but you're so much wetter than before - so eager to take as much of him as you can.

Anticipating the sting that comes when he begins to breach your hole, you chant softly for him to keep going, face pinching up in pain briefly when resistance gives way and the head of his cock finally pops inside.

Your sore walls protest at first with a dull gnawing, a bearable pain but still the kind that had you holding your breath until you could settle again.

Steve remains like that in place, not pushing in any further, hand rubbing considerately at your waist. He waits patiently for you to adjust - waiting for you to release that breath you've been holding and tell him how you're feeling.

“Don’t think I can take any more”, your voice comes out in a waver, a shaky breath coming after it.

Clouded by his concern for you, he interprets your comment as a cue for him to pull out. "I'm sorry, lemme just-" and you can feel him begin to withdraw from you carefully.

"No wait"

He stills again, afraid he's hurt you until you bend your knees and press your heels into the mattress to anchor yourself. The throbbing begins to subside and Steve's jaw falls slack when he sees you roll your hips, fucking yourself on the head of his cock.

“My god, baby" he manages to choke out, disbelieving despite having his eyes trained on the way your folds suck him in, the fat head of his cock sinking in and out of you wetly.

Your eyes fall to where you're joined too and you can see the veins bulging along his shaft, missing the way they felt inside you but with how sensitive you are, you feel impossibly full already.

"Steve, please", you sob, the sound of you all eager and aching prompting him to take over.

You're rewarded when pushes in, cock dragging over a tender, neglected spot sitting at an angle you couldn't reach on your own. It's a slow, but intensely passionate pace the two of you fall into, nothing but the wet sounds of your joined bodies and pleasured moans filling the room.

You almost worry that it's not enough for him. While you feel like your almost bursting at the seams in the best possible way, he's only managed to work around two inches of his dick inside you at this point, the rest of him missing that vice grip of your plush, silky walls.

That worry increases tenfold when he pulls out, only to have him push the unfounded concern out of your mind altogether when he wraps a hand around the the throbbing length, tapping the head glistening with your arousal on your clit. "I'm getting close", he admits hoarsely before pushing back in again, this time with more ease and far less pain than the first.

The way your walls give way for him has you keening, the pleasure pain combo at equal levels now.

“Yeah? Too much for you isn’t it, crybaby?”, he thumbs at your cheek and you begin to register the hot tears streaming down your face, earning you the nickname.

You nod fervently but your hips keep bucking, pace hurrying.

“Oh? Want more?”, he asks, half as a taunt, half in awe.

"Faster, please do it faster", you beg.

"Yeah?" he picks up the pace, fucking into your poor sore pussy as far as you can handle. "Gonna cum like this baby? already crying on my cock even though it's just the tip?"

"Oh god- Steve I'm getting close", you warn, back arching, fists gathering damp sheets.

"Fuck, so sore and you're still taking it like a good girl"

“Play with my clit”, you cry and he does, hand dropping to find the sensitive bud. A gentle puff of breath against your clit could have tipped you over the edge at this point, so when he rubs circles into it the force of your orgasm surprises you both, your cunt forming a tight seal around his tip when he bursts too, flooding you full.

There's no way he's clocking in to work on time today.

[verinarin]

𝐂𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐬

angst with comfort | he didn’t come today, you don’t miss him do ?

an. Miss me ?, I hope you do miss me since this is my first full fledged angst I write for Ratio, I hope you guys enjoy ! ヽ(；▽；)

art by @/hsgbisuw on twt

It was a calm day, too calm for your liking. Usually at this precise second Veritas Ratio would knock on your doors with all of his might and glory, how could he not ?. You were doomed to be woven into his research by the looms of fate, yet he’s not here.

He was never late before, likewise he was also never early. Right at 12 o’clock he would knock on your door, yet he isn’t, not today. Why ? you asked yourself. It is unnatural for you to let that man live in your head rent free, yet he broke something constant between you both. zAs much as you hate how better his thesis compares to yours, his gentle scoffs as he oversees your draft, you can’t help but to respect the candid fellow or at least respect his dreams and values.

Missing him however was not on your list, you don’t hold any fondness towards him, just respect. Only respect, or at least that’s what you like to convince yourself of. Yet your actions spoke differently, from staring at your phone, waiting for an explanation for his absence, staring at the clock. Patiently counting how long it has been since his supposed arrival, yet he never came.

The clock strikes at 8 in the evening, it is sufficient to say that he’s not coming, you wanted to text him for a reschedule or to simply ask his whereabouts but you didn’t. Since there’s no need to do so, he has shown his resolve by his actions. Perhaps you bore him so he decided to substitute you for another brilliant mind, no harm no foul, you thought.

As you stood up from your desk to pack your belongings, a twist on your door knob could be heard, that means that the person behind the door must've had important matters to attend to you since they skipped the courtesy to knock on your door, at this hour nonetheless.

Once you turned your gaze towards the door, low and behold Veritas Ratio with all of his flaws full on displayed for you, his usually groomed hair, now damp as well as the rest of his clothes, he looks like a wet dog you thought, “I’m quite late aren’t I ?,” he chuckled as he brushed through his wet hair.

“What brings you here ?, it is well past our usual schedule,” you walked towards him with a concerned look on your face, he let out a small chuckle as he made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Well excuse my late arrival, I had matters to attend to,” he replied vaguely, not wanting to disclose whatever it was he was attending.

“It is best for you to not come at all, it’s already late for us to start our thesis,” you sat beside him as you examined his whole stature, his breathing patterns are erratic, it contradicts his usual calm pattern.

“I’m not here to talk about our little project I’m afraid,” oh that’s new !, you felt a sudden rush through your body, in a way your flight or fight sense has been activated.

“Oh ?, so why the sudden visit ?,” you asked, gazing straight at his face, his sharp features glistening beautifully underneath the moonlight, the sight would leave anyone who gazed upon in breathless, yourself included but he didn’t need to know that of course.

“Do you not miss me ?, or search for me at all ?, are you not concerned with my wellbeing ?,” he asked calmly as he looked towards you, like a deer caught in headlights you freeze.

That was not a reply you were hoping, it was a trap.

Now your mind starts to isolate itself into a total state of seclusion, ignoring the man beside you, riddled with his own inquisitive mind pondering the answers to his question.

Did you miss his companion ? perhaps.

Did you search for him ?,you did ask Aventurine about his whereabouts, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Are you concerned with his well being ?, you might have. Proven by the fact that you had to physically restrain yourself from searching for him.

“No, I do not care about you that much I’m afraid, we’re just colleagues after all,” you lied, for reasons you can’t disclose. He simply scoffs as he folds his arms together; a self pitying laughter could be heard seconds afterward.

“I see, then can you perhaps prove your claims,” he smiles.

His expression, so sincere and true that it scares you to a certain degree. You’re horrified how easily he steps inside your heart. With just a mere smile he could do that, how gruesome.

“Sure, let’s get this over with,” you replied and with that he leaned closer towards your ear, you could hear your own heartbeat, matching his erratic pace. Scary you thought as you sealed your lips shut.

“Are you perhaps familiar with the term Cognitive Dissonance,” his voice lures you, dangerously so to the truth. The truth you weren’t prepared to disclose nor acknowledge.

“Yes, but I don’t see how it connects to whatever it is you want me to prove,” you reply, trying to move on from his argument. As though lost in the middle of the sea, he’s getting close to the shore and you’re not sure if you want him to step on land or to drown.

“You see,” he whispered as his hand tipped your chin forward to meet his eyes, “Your actions contradicts your beliefs, it’s uncomfortable is it, am I getting too close ?, physically or perhaps psychologically ?,” he did it, he really did step foot on uncharted territories.

“Too close, there’s a thin line between us that you’re stepping on Veritas,” you whispered back hoping he would give up on whatever conquest he’s currently embark upon. Yet he dares step closer, leans as close as he could get without scaring you away.

“Is that so ?, would you let me walk to the other side ?,” he asked, his voice as gentle as it could be, in contrast to how stern it used to linger on your ears.

“I-i—” not a single thought could form in your mind, the things he implied. You’re scared to misinterpret the situation, making yourself a fool in front of him.

“Don’t think, feel. Would you let me cross to the other side ?,” he whispers in which it successfully breaks you from your trance.

He reached at your hand, guiding it against his own beating heart as his forehead rested on yours. You could feel his palpitation, his warmth, his sincerity.

You could feel him, not perceive him anymore.

You feel him with all of his sincerity and tenderness.

“Do you miss me ?,” he asked again, patiently waiting for your answer while his lips graze slightly onto yours.

“Yes, I do miss you, Veritas, ”

[navi-the-flying-bee]

Echoes of forgotten moon

(A/N): this been in my drafts for soooo long. So i decided to let it free into the wild.

(Story): went out on a mission supposedly to fight a lower-ranked demon that caused trouble in a nearby village, but fate had its own decision

(Warnings): kinda angst. I picked the breathing. Contains Blood but just if you look closely.

The moon hung high, casting a pale glow over the battlefield. You stood at the edge of the clearing, your hair shifting in the breeze, the threads catching the light like the remnants of a dream. Before you, standing still as a statue, was Kokushibo-Upper Moon One. His six haunting eyes locked onto you, unreadable.

You had always heard the legends. The fallen samurai. The twisted brother of the strongest demon slayer. A warrior who had abandoned his humanity for eternity.

Yet… something about him felt painfully familiar.

“You reek of sorrow.”

The words slipped from your lips before you even realized you had spoken them.

Kokushibo's expression did not change, but there was a pause barely noticeable, but enough.

"Sorrow?" His voice was deep, resonant, filled with something unreadable.

You tilted your head, clutching your sword loosely in your hands. You weren’t afraid. Maybe you should have been, but you weren’t.

“Yeah. Not just the kind that festers, but the kind that lingers. Like a dream you don’t want to wake up from.”

Kokushibo frowned. “You speak in riddles.”

You smiled slightly. “I know. I do that a lot."

Kokushibo attacked first. A single motion, faster than thought, sharper than reality. But you were already moving, your Dream Breathing swirling around you, making you seem like a mirage. His blade cut through air, through afterimages, through illusions that barely had time to fade.

"Your movements… they are like a trick of the light."

You flipped backward, your bare feet barely touching the grass. "Maybe they are."

You didn’t try to overwhelm him. You didn’t try to match his strength.

Instead, you weaved between the threads of fate, bending the rules of reality just enough to keep yourself alive.

But Then, You Stopped.

You stood there, in the moonlight, your sword lowered.

Kokushibo hesitated.

“I get it,” you said softly.

The wind stirred between you, carrying the scent of distant wisteria.

“You weren’t meant to be a monster,” you continued. “You wanted to be seen. To be more than someone else’s shadow.”

Silence.

His fingers tightened around his blade. “You do not know me.”

“I know the feeling.”

Kokushibo stared.

Your voice was gentle, but unwavering.

"I grew up being told I wasn’t enough. That I wasn’t strong, that I wasn’t worthy. I’ve fought my whole life not to disappear under someone else’s expectations.”

A pause.

“I think… you did, too.”

For the first time in centuries, Kokushibo felt something stir in his chest.

Something he thought had died long ago.

A memory. A voice. A warmth.

But then

He crushed it.

His blade rose again, not out of anger, but necessity. "Your words are meaningless," he said, but his voice had lost some of its certainty.

You exhaled, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

You had hoped. You had reached. But some nightmares do not fade so easily.

You lifted your sword once more.

"Then let's dream a little longer, shall we?"

As your blades clashed, Kokushibo’s six eyes followed every shift of your movements, dissecting each step, each breath, each illusion. Dream Breathing was unlike anything he had seen before fluid, deceptive, always slipping through his grasp like mist beneath the moonlight.

But there was something else.

Something painfully familiar.

“This footwork…”

You vanished into an afterimage, reappearing behind him, your sword cutting through the air like a crescent of silver light. He blocked, but his mind was elsewhere.

The elegance of your strikes. The curved, sweeping angles. The way your blade sang as it moved.

His grip on his katana tightened.

"This is not merely an illusionary technique…"

You spun away, confused. “Noticed something, did you?”

Kokushibo remained silent, his expression unreadable.

But deep inside, a name echoed in the empty halls of his mind.

Yoriichi.

It wasn’t the same, of course. Your stance lacked the overwhelming presence of the Thirteenth Form, the devastating raw power of Sun Breathing.

And yet-

The way you moved… it was a shadow of the style he once knew.

No, not a shadow.

A dream.

A Fragment of a Forgotten Moon

“Your technique,” he finally spoke, his voice dangerously low. “It is a distortion.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “Huh?”

“You carry traces of Moon Breathing.”

You stopped, your breath hitching.

“…I do?”

Kokushibo's gaze bore into you. "You were never taught it, were you?"

You hesitated, then slowly shook your head. "No. I just… made it up, I guess?"

His expression darkened.

"Impossible."

Breathing Styles were not "made up." They were passed down, honed through blood and battle. And yet your movements, your angles, the way you bent reality just slightly out of reach…

It was there.

A diluted, altered, fragmented piece of his own past.

The realization disgusted him.

A descendant of the Tsugikuni line, wielding a technique that-by all logic-should not exist.

“You have no right.”

The weight of his words fell heavy between you.

You furrowed your brows. “No right?”

“You twist a legacy you do not understand. You wield a blade that dances between illusion and truth, yet you know nothing of the history beneath your feet.”

You flinched at his tone.

But then you exhaled.

“…Maybe you’re right.”

Kokushibo stiffened.

“I don’t know the full history. I don’t know what you’ve been through.” Your fingers tightened around your sword. “But I do know this-”

Your eyes locked onto his, unwavering.

“I don’t need permission to exist.”

And with that, you charged once more.

This time, when Kokushibo met your strike, his hands were shaking.

The clash of steel rang out like a bell, a reverberating echo that seemed to pierce through time itself. Kokushibo’s six eyes narrowed, tracking your every move, his once-calm demeanor now disturbed. There was something raw in your strikes. something too real, too dangerous for someone who should’ve been nothing more than a shadow of the past.

Your Dream Breathing twisted the air around you, creating a fog of afterimages that shifted and warped the space between you. You weren’t just fighting-you were dancing, weaving in and out of his range with a beauty that made it difficult to keep track of where you truly were. And each time he thought he had you cornered, you vanished, only to reappear in a new position, a new angle.

Kokushibo’s katana glinted as he struck, his speed and power overwhelming. But you were slippery like mist, like the memories of a fading dream. Every time your blades met, there was a brief moment where the world seemed to bend around you, as if reality itself was questioning what was happening.

Your technique.

It was… a reflection.

It reflected the endless glistening moonlight of his past, but distorted. It was not the relentless force of Moon Breathing; no, it was the elusive beauty of the dreams he could no longer touch.

"You…" His voice dropped to a growl, his frustration mounting. “What are you?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you let the air thicken around you, your breath steady as you focused, pulling the shadows around you like a cloak. You felt the weight of your heritage in your blood, the weight of what Kokushibo represented. the legacy of a family shattered, scattered across generations. You felt it in the rhythm of your heart, the deep pulse that connected you to everything lost.

For a moment, you almost understood him. The loneliness, the burden of his twisted past, the pain of knowing that his very existence was a mirror of what could have been.

You struck again. this time without hesitation.

"Dream breathing: third form, Reverie Waltz."

Your blade twisted through the air, creating illusions of countless slashes that seemed to come from every angle. Kokushibo parried, his katana flashing with deadly intent, but the strike didn’t land. You were somewhere else.

And yet, he still felt it.

It was the sensation of being lost in time, lost in a moment of reflection that brought him back to when he was first learning the Moon Breathing. a time when he too had wondered if his power could change the world.

For the briefest instant, Kokushibo felt the weight of his own regret.

And then, the mist cleared.

You reappeared behind him, your blade extended as the shadows of the forest danced in tandem with your movements. In the span of a heartbeat, you delivered a strike, a pure, decisive cut aimed directly at his side.

But Kokushibo moved faster than you anticipated, a sudden flash of moonlight as his sword met yours, the power of his attack slamming into you with force that sent you sprawling back.

You landed gracefully, your breath ragged but determined. You gripped your katana, your gaze unwavering as you met his six eyes.

“You’re right.” You panted, still catching your breath. “I don’t fully understand it. But maybe I don’t need to. All I know is I’m doing my best… for the people I care about.”

For those lost.

Kokushibo’s eyes flickered with something almost human. a fleeting trace of something buried deep.

He stepped forward, his grip on his katana tightening, but before he could strike, something in the air shifted.

It wasn’t just the moonlight.

It was the weight of the moment, the slow realization that you, in your own way, were fighting for something just as real as his struggle, even if you didn’t have the centuries of pain to draw from.

He looked at you, truly looked at you, as if for the first time and saw the fractured reflection of the Tsugikuni bloodline, still holding onto hope despite the darkness of the world.

Kokushibo’s voice, cold and venomous, cut through the silence, but it was quieter now. "You will never be free of it."

You nodded. “Maybe. But I’ll keep trying.”

Your grip on your katana tightened. "I won't let my past control me."

And as the two of you faced off, the dreamlike illusions swirling around you, it was clear neither one of you would ever be the same.

You-unknowingly the reincarnation of a woman from over 400 years ago, a woman Kokushibo once loved. A woman he could never have, because his brother, Yoriichi, loved her too.

Back then, he never said anything. Never acted on his feelings. He watched from the sidelines, suppressing the emotions that shouldn’t have existed, because how could he ever compete with Yoriichi?

And then, he lost everything. His brother, his humanity, the life he could have had.

Fast forward to the present-you exist.

A girl with hauntingly familiar eyes, a voice that echoes something from the past, a presence that stirs ancient, buried feelings he thought had died centuries ago.

At first, he convinces himself it’s coincidence. Just another swordswoman. But then he watches you move your breathing, your stance, the way you carries herself. The way your Dream Breathing mirrors things he used to know.

And then, the final blow-her personality.

It’s different, but too close. Too eerily close to what it once was.

And for the first time in centuries, Kokushibo feels something. A painful, unbearable mix of longing, rage, and sorrow.

Because the universe-fate itself-is cruel.

It has placed you before him once again. Not as his. Not as Yoriichi’s. But as a girl who can never belong to either of them.

And worse-you don’t remember.

You don't know who you used to be. You don't remember him.

And you never will.

The night air was thick with tension, the moon casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. You stood your ground, your lavender-blue blade shimmering like a mirage in the darkness. Across from you, Kokushibo towered, his six haunting eyes fixed on you watching, analyzing, remembering.

For a long moment, neither moved.

Then, the first strike.

Kokushibo's blade extended unnaturally, a crescent arc of Moon Breathing: First Form, Dark Moon, Evening Palace

tearing through the air. You barely had time to react, your instincts screaming.

Dream breathing: second form: Slumbering Mirage.

You flickered out of sight, an afterimage left behind as you dodged. The very ground where you stood was carved apart in a jagged crescent, but you reappeared at his flank faster than he expected.

CLANG!

Your swords met in a blur of violet and deep crimson, sparks flying as you twisted mid-air, your movements fluid, dreamlike. A nightmare given form.

Kokushibo did not underestimate you.

Not after what he had seen. Not after what he felt.

But the way you moved-the unpredictability, the illusions, the seamless way your blade danced-it was too familiar. Like a ghost from centuries past had taken shape before him.

His six eyes narrowed. “Where did you learn that technique?”

You didn’t answer. Not because you was being secretive—but because you didn’t know.

Your Dream Breathing had always felt natural, like something that had existed long before you was even born. As if it had always been waiting for you.

And now, as you fought against him, your instincts screamed at you, like muscle memory from a life you couldn’t remember.

Dream breathing: first form, Midnight Phantasm!

A swirl of shadowed illusions bloomed around you, flickering between reality and deception. Kokushibo’s keen vision caught all of them, yet even he could not predict which was real.

He hesitated.

And for a brief, fleeting second, he saw her-not you, but her.

The woman from the past. The one who never belonged to him.

That hesitation cost him.

You closed the distance, your blade mere inches from his throat.

But Kokushibo was still Upper Moon One. A demon who had lived for centuries, who had perfected the art of combat beyond human limits.

His body twisted unnaturally, his katana curving in an impossible direction-

SLASH!

Pain.

You barely dodged, but a deep gash cut through your shoulder. Your breath hitched, but you refused to stop.

Kokushibo, however, stared at you not in triumph, but in silent conflict.

“Why,” he murmured, his voice like a whisper carried by the wind. “Why do you fight me, when your soul remembers?”

Your breath was ragged. “I don’t-” you clenched her blade. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But he saw it.

The way your body knew his movements before he even made them, that's why you lasted against him this long. The way your breathing felt aligned with something old, something that should have been lost in time.

Even if you didn’t remember. your soul did.

And that made this fight even crueler.

Because in another time, in another life-you would have been his.

But now?

You was just another Demon Slayer, standing against him.

And he was just another demon in your way, a monster

The battle wasn’t over. But Kokushibo knew. this wasn’t a fight he wanted to win.

The battle raged on, but Kokushibo’s heart-or whatever was left of it-was no longer in it.

Your movements were slowing, exhaustion creeping in. Your breathing was uneven, your wounds deep, yet your determination never wavered. You was still fighting. Still standing against him.

And it hurt him more than he expected.

With a flicker of inhuman speed, Kokushibo closed the distance. Ciel barely had time to react-his blade was already there.

SLASH!

A deep cut tore through your side.

Pain erupted, your vision blurring. Your knees buckled, but you refused to fall, gasping for breath as blood soaked your haori.

You looked up expecting another attack, expecting him to finish you off.

But Kokushibo stood still. His six eyes bore into yours, unreadable, but in them, for just a moment, you saw something she didn’t understand.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke.

“Leave.”

Your breath hitched.

What?

You should be dead. A demon like him would never let a slayer go. So why-?

“Why are you sparing me?” you rasped, clutching your side.

Kokushibo didn’t answer. He simply turned away.

He couldn’t say it.

Couldn’t say that seeing you fight, seeing the way your body instinctively moved like hers once did, made something deep inside him ache.

He couldn’t say that even now, after all these centuries, after all the bloodshed, after all the choices that led him to become this-he still couldn’t bring himself to strike you down.

Instead, he left you with nothing but silence.

A silence filled with unspoken truths, with echoes of a past you didn’t remember, and a pain he would never escape.

clutching your wound, watched him disappear into the night.

You should have chased him. should have finished the fight even if it meant death.

But you didn’t.

Because for some reason-you felt like you had already lost something.