#Cheeky Parade

[dailyjpop]

Cheeky Parade - C.P.U !?

[688199]

I love being in non existent fandoms because I have no one to show my SPECIAL LIMITED EDITION JAPANESE DEATH PARADE DVD BOX SET and BOTH DEATH PARADE AND DEATH BILLIARDS STAFF BOOKS WITH OFFICIAL ILLUSTRATIONS + STORYBOARDS and 40 PAGES OF DEATH PARADE STAFF ANIMATION NOTES

Oh and I cannot forget the other even more non existent fandom that consists of only me because I have a HIROYUKI NISHIMORI MANGAKA BOOK and 17 VOLUMES OF OUT OF PRINT TENSHI NA KONAMAIKI OFFICIAL ENGLISH MANGAS IN HONESTLY PRETTY GOOD CONDITION

[allfearstofallto]

Breaking up with Mafia! Childe is a nightmare. You've never met a man so insistent, so stubborn, so damn near depraved in the way he refuses to acknowledge that you no longer want to date him. It's almost psychotic, his actions and how he still treats you as if your his, even though you've long since cut things off with him. Or at least tried to.

He always shows up at your place, at your new job, or calls with a number that you don't know. Always finds a way to sneak his way back into your life, even when you so desperately try to push him out. That blue sports car will be parked out front and you'll feel all the blood drain from your body, a chill running up your spine.

Knuckles usually split and bleeding, bruises on his face, he wore a charming smile that spoke of an inherent sadism, parading his wounds like a trophy. He always smelled of the particular brand cigarettes he smoked, the ones that would hang from his lips while he waited for you. He'd put it out whenever he met your gaze though, against the wall or on the concrete pavement of the ground, claiming that you were much too pretty to smell like tobacco.

He always paid in cash and never told you what his job was, just danced around the topic with a dark chuckle that spoke a thousand words.

"I can afford you, can't I?" He'd ask, his tone playful, but there was a dark look in those hollow blue eyes that told you to pry no further.

When he opened his wallet, you'd see nothing but large, crisp bills. No cards or identification. Maybe a picture of you tucked into one of the pockets, one that you don't remember taking though.

He wasn't typically the type of guy you'd date. Physically he was. All playboy smiles and fluffy orange hair. Lean build and sultry voice. You felt pressured to give in to him, mostly because of his persistence. And even more pressured to stay.

"I'd never hurt you," he'd say as you tended to his bleeding lip, watching the way he barely winced as you dabbed the alcohol wipe to his wound. He just fell, he assured you.

A fall?

Right.

That's why he was holding your wrist with his hand. Clenching his long fingers so tightly around you, like you'd run away the second you let go. Insisting that you were safe with him and that nothing would ever harm you. When asked what he was keeping you safe from, he'd just give you a cheeky grin.

"My clumsiness," he hummed. His words had a scary amount of whimsical joy behind them as he placed his elbows on his knees, holding his head up with his hands, blue eyes looking at you in pure adoration as you continue to clean his wounds in a deafening silence. The only other sound being your rapidly beating heart.

AN: Had to get the idea out of my head!!!!

[no-squ4sh-4-b4by]

Kanye West and Bianca Censori's appearance on the red carpet was something out of a nightmare. If you haven't seen the clip, go look it up.

It starts with them posing, then they face each other and start to talk. Their conversation is not audible, but you can see Bianca shaking her head no and readjusting her large fur coat to cover herself. After three or four words are exchanged, she turns away from the camera and starts taking off her coat slowly. Revealing her naked shoulders, then her back, then her buttocks. She turns around to finally show off the dress she's wearing, a tight, see-through piece of nylon (designed by Kanye himself, according to a post he made on his Instagram) that leaves her breasts, genitals and ass exposed. She's essentially naked. During this whole scene, Kanye is just facing the cameras with sunglasses on, neutral expression on his face.

Now, I'm not shocked by nudity. Censori is definitely not the first celebrity to walk the red carpet wearing a very revealing outfit (and she won't be the last). What disgusts me is the scene they built around the outfit.

First, the little conversation they have. You can clearly see Bianca shaking her head no and tightening her coat around her before being made to undress. There's two possibilities here:

A) Either this wasn't rehearsed, so we essentially witnessed Bianca being pressured into undressing herself in front of dozens of cameras or;

B) It was rehearsed (the most likely option, in my opinion). But then why? Why act out this discomfort before the reveal?

Some could argue they were talking about something totally unrelated, but I very much doubt it. It's their big moment on the red carpet, in front of cameras, it's not the time to talk about the groceries.

What I think is happening is that they (but most likely Kanye) voluntarily chose to paint a scene of a woman being forced to undress herself in front of thousands for the amusement of her husband. It's essentially a brag, a show of force for Kanye. He's saying: "Look at my wife and what she'll do for me. Look what I can make her do. "

The last thing I haven't mentioned, and the scariest, is Censori's facial expression through it all. Neutral expression, no smile. Her eyebrows are trimmed downwards in a way where she looks slightly worried. And her stare is totally vacant. I've seen people say she looks drugged, dissociated, downright "stupid."

I think this is the main difference between Bianca's look and others who have worn skimpy outfits in front of the cameras. Whether it be Lady Gaga, Kendall Jenner, or Madonna, they all share something: confidence. A sultry look, a cheeky smirk, hell, at least a smile! Something to show that they feel desirable, that they're in control. That they choose to show us their bodies.

Whereas Bianca looks dead inside as she's posing.

After standing in front of the cameras for a little while, Kanye takes her hand and leads her away.

The whole sequence (no matter how much Bianca has consented to it) feels like a humiliation ritual. Kayne, standing there fully dressed, pressing his wife to expose her body to the entire world before parading her around. A gross display of chauvinist male domination on the body of a woman. Like, I don't know how else to say it, but it looks like he's walking around with his sex doll, still partially in her plastic wrapping.

Why are we seeing this? What is the point? I can't help but relate this to Elon's n*zi salute. It feels like we're witnessing more and more rich and powerful men pushing the boundaries of what is socially acceptable, trying to see how far they can go. How much of their toxic, repressive views they can share before we come for them.

My heart goes out to Bianca, I hope she's safe and happy in her marriage.

[f1fantasys]

Lando, you and some other friends are spending the weekend with hiking and camping. But being the clumsy one you kinda slipped and hurt yourself. Lando offer to help you to go back to the tent and you just innocently ask him to massage your feet. At first it’s just an innocent act and Lando purely wants to help as a friend. Until you accidentally moan and it turns him on and the massage is not so innocent anymore. He then promise you it’s just a tip but well… all men do is a lie 😜

TIP-SY

Warnings - explicit smut 😇

Note - this pic has made me FERAL.

F1 summer break meant a parade of different experiences and getaways. As a presenter for Sky, you were quite close to some of the drivers. Lando, in particular, was one of your favorites, though he doesn't know that. You wouldn't say you were close to him, but you'd now been on a fair share of getaways with him and other mutual friends, and it was safe to say that there was an ever-growing sexual tension between he two of you.

The tension met new heights when you went on a ski-trip in Finland last winter break. You'd often catch each other staring at one-another for far too long, share lingering touches, and dance closely with wandering hands while partying, flirting shamelessly through the days and nights. Your mutual friends always teased you both about when you would finally jump each other - anyone could see the pull that gravitated you towards each other, so it was just a matter of time until the line was crossed.

Right now, you both together with Max and P and Arthur and Jade were out at a secluded resort, camping and hiking for 5 days.

Of course since the other two pairs were couples, it meant you and Lando had to share a tent. Probably the push you needed to be honest, so you weren't complaining one bit because god, you wanted him in ways that would be sinful to say out loud.

You'd arrived this morning and had set out for a hike straight away. Thanks to the gods above, you were clumsy. You were walking in front of Lando when you missed a stone and tripped over it, hurting your ankle while doing so.

''Fuck y/n'' he said, rushing to help you up. ''You okay?'' he asked, but his worry faded away when he saw you chuckling to yourself.

''Yeah good, just little miss clumsy, tripped over a fucking tiny stone'' you said, taking his hand to help you stand up.

You thought you were ok, and even managed to walk another 5 minutes until you decided that you were actually not okay, and wanted to head back to the camp.

Lando, being ever the gentleman, literally hoisted you up and threw you over his shoulder to take you back.

''Lan!'' you shrieked, but you gave you no room for argument. Instead, being a cheeky bugger, he playfully smacked your ass before resuming homage on your thighs for the walk back. You were thankful you were facing the opposite direction, so he couldn't see the blush forming on your face.

Once you got back to the tent he gently placed you on your bed.

''Relax. Gonna get us some water and find you an ice pack. Need anything else?'' he asked.

'''I'm good. Thank you Lan, really for bringing me back'' you sincerely told him, your hand lingering with his for longer than it should have before you pulled away and he walked out of the tent.

''Fuck'' you thought to yourself. You were definitely in too deep.

Lando returned not 10 minutes later with a handful of snacks and drinks.

''Lando did you buy the whole supermarket?'' you asked teasingly.

''Oi, I wont share if you tease me like that!'' he said, dropping everything on your bed and smiling at you.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a desperate kiss but you held yourself back.

''So there were no ice packs but I did find this ointment, says to massage it in gently'' he said, sitting down and lifting your feet onto his lap, taking you by surprise.

''Oh you don't have to, I'll do it'' you said, already sitting up and moving your legs out of his hold but his strong hands stopped you from breaking free.

''You're not saying no to a free foot massage, are you?'' he asked. ''One time offer, by the way'' he finished, winking at you.

It wasn't worth arguing further, so you stuck your tongue out at him and said ''fine,'' relaxing back again.

His touch was gently but it felt oh so heavenly, and without realizing it you let out an involuntary moan as you felt the pleasure rip through your body.

He chuckled, though he didn't find it funny one bit. His mind was racing as to what other noises you would make and if they'd sound as good as you just did.

''Feel good?'' he asked.

''Hmm yeah, never better'' you said, eyes closed and smiling.

Lando couldn't get your noise out of his head, and he felt his dick growing harder with each second that past.

A few minutes later you moaned again, and that was his breaking point.

''Y/n'' he said, in warning.

Your breath hitched as he said you name. You cleared your throat and mumbled an apology.

You looked down at him and took a deep breath in. His eyes were shades darker than they were before and he was looking at you with such an intensity.

''Lan'' you cooed, not sure what you wanted him to say or do.

He gently placed your feet back down on the bed and hovered above you, putting all his weight on his hands instead of your body.

Your eyes stayed glued to one another's until he finally stooped low and captured your lips in a swift movement.

You instantly bought your hands to his face, cupping it as he lowered his body so you could finally feel him.

The kiss was messy and desperate, spit already running down both of your chins'.

You moaned again and he pulled back only to whisper ''you don't know what that fucking does to me y/n,'' before he leaned down again and quickly slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring it.

You pulled at his curls which had his moaning in return, smiling through the kiss.

His lips left yours and moved down to your neck, very quickly finding your sweet spot where his bit and sucked at it then soothed it with his tongue.

''Lan'' you said, begging him for more.

''I know babygirl'' he said, his hand snaking down and slipping past your leggings to your core - which was dripping wet by now.

He pulled his head up to look at you again. ''So fucking wet. For me, yeah?'' he asked.

''For you'' you whimpered as your felt him slide his fingers through your folds.

He found your clit and immediately assaulted it bu pinching at pulling at it. By now your moans were obscene, the feeling of his hand down there stimulating to your core.

''More, Lan'' you begged again, biting down on your lower lip before pulling his face back to yours so you could kiss him again.

With ease, he slid two fingers through your entrance at once. Your back arched off the bed and your nails dug into his biceps.

You whimpered again as he set a quick pace, thrusting in and out of you and curling his digits at just the right time to tap the spongy spot inside of you.

''So tight, fuck you're gonna feel amazing around me'' he whispered, adding a third finger to the mix.

You couldn't help but moan at the thought of finally fucking him, but you needed to calm yourself down before getting ahead.

His lips were back on your neck now and you leaned to the side to give him better access, lightly biting at his biceps.

He sped up his pace and you soon felt the all too familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

''I'm close'' you coxed out, breathing increasing.

''Do it'' he mumbled. ''Let it out.''

Lando made his thumb brush against your clit with each thrust and in no time you were releasing all over his fingers, moaning his name through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut.

You panted through your breaths, expecting him to slow down and ride you through your orgasm but if anything, he sped up even more.

''I know you have more in you, come in, y/n'' he said, hiding his head in the crook of your neck and nibbling on your ear.

Your breath hitched again. ''Lan'' was all you were able to get out, and not two minutes later you were gushing all over his fingers again, your throbbing pussy clenching around them which had him moaning with you.

''Fuck'' you let out a breath as he slowed his fingers and pulled them out of you.

He pulled back, looking at you again and took his digits into his own mouth, sucking him clean and moaning at the taste of you.

''My new favorite flavor'' he said, smirking, before kissing you again.

He pulled back for a second to remove you t-shirt, ridding is as well before returning his lips to yours.

Your hands explored his muscle-clad body, internally moaning at how hot he was - physically and mentally.

His hands also roamed your body, stopping at your boobs and giving them a few squeezes before sliding them under your bra and pinching at your nipples.

The action had your back arching, digging your nails into his skin.

Your mind was racing at 1000 miles per hour, trying to catch up to what was happening. A feel of joy and euphoria overwhelming you.

Lando took your bra off completely and you didn't miss the way he licked his lips when he looked at them.

He roughly took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked and bit at it, earning breathless moans from you as you pulled on his hair, edging him on.

''Fuck, yes, please'' you moaned.

''So fucking perfect angel'' he whispered, rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

He continued his onslaught for a while until you started ti grow impatient. You pussy was desperate, clenching around nothing.

''Lando please'' you begged him. He quickly notes that he loved it when you begged him.

He finally sat back on his knees and looked at you, though the expression you had on your face was not one he was expecting to see.

You weren't looking back at him with lust and desperation, instead you looked confused and constricted.

Rewind - just as you had begged him for more, your mind caught up to what was happening and something clicked. You liked Lando, too much, and you didn't want just a quick fuck.

''Baby?'' he asked.

''Lan, ugh, fuck. I like you too much for just a one time fuck'' you said, slightly shy at your confession and use of words.

His eyes grew wide and he couldn't help but chuckle a sarcastic one.

''You seriously think I want just a fuck from you? Really y/n?'' he questioned.

''I-I'' you started but he cut you off.

''You're fucking blind if you think I don't like you and want to be with you for something real. Fuck y/n you're the most amazing person, and yes i want to fuck you senseless right now, but i want to fuck you senseless everyday, and after that I want to clean you up and cuddle with you and fall asleep with you, and wake up with you!''

Words had left your brain by now so instead you just pulled him down for a feverish, passionate kiss. ''I want all that too'' you said between pecks at his lips the both of you smiling.

Just as Lando was about to pull your leggings down again you stopped him, again.

He pulled back and gave you a questioning look.

''Lan fuck we can't do it now like this, in a tent in the middle of nowhere!'' you blurted out.

''You're joking, right?'' he asked, unable to keep a smile a bay.

You tried to keep a stern face but failed miserably as he ignored you and took your leggings off.

''I'm serious! We can't have our first fuck like this''

Lando groaned. ''Ugh, ok, how about this - just the tip''

''Huh?'' you asked.

''I just let my tip enter you, for now, until your 'content' with the perfect date'' he reasoned.

You took a few seconds to think. You were so desperate for him, but at the same time you were so desperate for everything to be perfect, so maybe him inserting just his tip was a win-win.

''Okay fine'' you said, palming him through his shorts.

His own breath hitched as you pulled down his shorts and freed his aching dick.

You'd always suspected he'd be big. But not this big. You were speechless, thinking how the hell he was gonna fit in you. It stood tall and angry, begging for attention, with precum already dripping out the slit at the top.

''Easy,'' he said, seeing you thinking at a million miles per hour. ''I'll take care of you'' he whispered.

You nodded you head and he settled above you again. He slid his cock through your wet folds numerous times, often stopping at the clit to push against it, as he kissed you for the hundredth time today.

''Please, need you'' you mumbled.

And finally, he entered you. Just feeling his tip was a sore enough stretch, but it felt fucking amazing.

He slid out and pushed in again, hands on your hips to hold you still while your nails were digging into his neck muscles.

''Fuck baby, so tight'' he said, breath faltering each each movement.

''Lan you're so fucking big, feels so good'' you managed to mumble, pulling his lips down to yours for a feverish kiss.

A few thrust later, Lando's eyes turned shades darker. ''Y/n, i need you you. All of you, please'' he begged.

You knew what he meant because you wanted him just as much, and just as you started saying ''Ye-'' yes to him, he bottomed out, thrusting his whole dick into you.

You had no time to react, your breath getting caught into your throat as he was fucking into to at a relentless pace.

''Shit, how are you so fucking tight y/n, feels so good'' you said through gritted teeth.

''Hmm Lando. Fuck. Please. Harder. Give me more'' you begged him again, the pleasure fully taking over the pain and every time you shut your eyes you swear you could see stars.

His face was close to yours, breath mingling with yours and as he tightened his grip on your waist, surely leaving bruises for tomorrow, while you wrapped your legs around him as tight as you could, nails now stretching at his back.

You weren't surprised to already feel the warmth in your stomach building up. ''Lan I'm close'' you warned as he bought his fingers to toy with your clit.

The noises in the tent were obscene, and if anyone were to walk past they'd surely hear both of your pornographic moans and slick bodies slamming each other.

''Let it out'' he said breathlessly, lips violently sucking on your nipples as you pulled on his hair as hard as you could.

In no time you body was shaking underneath him, your juices gushing all over his dick and dripping out of you.

'Fuck me, Lando'' you moaned his name over and over again, praising him.

He didn't slow his movements, instead he quickened his pace further, chasing his own orgasm now as you felt his dick start to twitch and his movements become careless.

''So proud of you, taking me so well. Fucking waited for this day for too long. Not gonna get you go now y/n, you're too fucking amazing'' he said through grunts and moans.

hearing him say that tipped you over the edge again, violently releasing around him again. You let out a series of moans and closed your eyes, rolling them to the back of your head.

''Gonna cum, where do you want it?'' he asked, though you were too fucked out to say anything back.

''Y/n, tell me. Fuck I can't hold on anymore'' he all but shouted through gritted teeth.

''Ug, fuck, in me. Cum in me, please'' you finally said.

He bit down on your shoulder as you felt him shoot sheets of warm cum to paint your walls, his body shuddering above yours, now praising your name.

Finally he slowed his movements and settled still, still inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his back and held him as tight as you could as he settled his weight on you.

You both tried to catch your breaths, unable to move or say anything but just content to be in each others' arms.

Lando's head was nestled in your hair while yours was just in the perfect position to leave kisses on his shoulder.

He finally pulled his head up after some time and gave you a sheepish smile. He looked handsome as ever, and his curls were stuck to his forehead with a thin sheet of sweat that was dripped down his neck.

You couldn't help but lean up and lick the sweat that was dripping off.

Lando moaned again/ ''Úgh y/n, you're incredible. That was amazing'' he cooed, pecking your nose and looking back at you.

You decided you had to tease him a bit. ''You said 'just the tip!' what happened to that?'' you asked, chuckling so he'd know you were only playing him.

He raised a brow. ''How can i not give you a good fuck when you're here looking all pretty and making the best sounds from your mouth?'' he questioned back causing you to blush.

''Ugh, okay but you still owe me a romantic dinner'' you replied.

''Deal. You're mine now'' he said, kissing you again.

A/N - this was sooo much fun to write! Please send more requests!!

These pics though 😮‍💨

[ozzgin]

Prompt: Handing them your underwear in public

You're having a romantic dinner, when you suddenly extend your hand towards your monstrous date and drop something in their claws. It's your underwear, neatly folded. You stare with a cheeky smile. How do they react? Content: various monsters x gender neutral reader [mildly NSFW]

Centaur Manager is beyond flustered. Are you hinting at something? His head whips towards the other tables as he bites his lip nervously. To be honest, it's quite entertaining to watch him squirm in his seat, probably doing his best to hide a rapidly growing erection. "What's the matter, Mr. Manager," you say with decorum, "is it not part of the scheduled outing?" He takes a sip of his drink, catching his breath. "Actually, bending you over was already included in our itinerary. I just didn't expect you to tease me like this beforehand."

Minotaur Maid is initially confused. "Do you need me to scrub these in the sink," he'll ask, inspecting the fabric. Wait, does this mean your precious, bare bottom is touching the restaurant chair? Good Lord, do you know how many creatures sat there before you? It's diseased! Unhygienic! He'll urge you to finish your meal quickly, so he can disinfect you back at his place. If you're going to parade around without coverage, he's got a better place for you to lay on: his face.

Puppy!Hybrid, Plant Daddy, Slug Hybrid and Alien Priest continuation on Patreon!

[cozage]

congrats on 2k!! for the event, I was wondering for option one, with Sanji, zoro Luffy and laws reaction to their s/o covering their face with kisses, leaving lipstick marks?

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law Total word count: 730

Lipstick Stains

Sanji

Oh you already know this man is inches within his life. Nothing gets him so weak in the knees like physical touch and affection. 

He relishes in your kisses during the moment, letting you go on as long as you want. You can never give him too many kisses, really. 

After the fact, any time he passes by a mirror, he stops to admire your love and your handiwork. He just stares at all the marks you left on him for a few minutes, his hands lightly passing over each one. 

Some of the crewmates (Zoro and Usopp) make fun of him, but he just smirks and says “What, boys? Jealous?”

He struggles to wash it off. He’s a very clean person, but he hates to wash his face after you’ve marked it all up. You can very often find light traces of your lipstick still across his face the next day because he scrubbed so gently while bathing. 

Zoro

Whenever you cover his face with kisses, Zoro…tolerates it. He doesn’t love it, but he doesn’t hate it either. 

Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t look at himself in the mirror much, so he doesn’t notice the red-stained marks you had left all over his face in the process. 

A few things tipped him off when he went down to dinner, though. Sanji is stifling a laugh at him, which isn’t uncommon. But Robin is also giving him a cheeky grin. Usopp and Luffy are both looking anywhere but at him, trying not to burst into laughter. 

And you…your cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment. He rushes to the bathroom and looks at himself in horror. It took him a minute to realize exactly what was all over his face, and he let out a small string of curses as he grabbed a towel and desperately scrubbed at them. 

He comes back to dinner, his face beet red (from embarrassment and excessive scrubbing), and sits down next to you, pretending like nothing happened. 

After that, he always ALWAYS checks himself in the mirror after you come visit him. 

Luffy

Luffy loves to battle with you on who can give the other person more kisses. Everything is always a game with him. 

He wears your kisses around without even knowing it for a while, until Nami says something about it. 

At her words, he rushes to the mirror and looks, admiring his face and all the proof of your love. He’s kind of jealous that you can mark your kisses so easily. 

That’s when he gets an idea. The next time you two have a kissing war, he offers to put on lipstick as well, that way you can tell for sure who won. 

And that way, you get to see proof of his love too. 

The two of you parade around the ship with your faces covered in shades of red and pink, showing off your new designs and laughing the entire time. 

Law

Law is not a man who enjoys physical touch. But if you’re alone…he’ll allow it. Sometimes, he might even enjoy it. 

Especially if he’s in his study and you come in and curl up in his lap, softly kissing his face to try and get him to come to bed. You can be very persuasive. 

“Go on to bed,” he finally says, shutting his book. “I’m going to get some water and I’ll be in a minute.”

He doesn’t pass by a mirror, or else he would’ve noticed the new addition. Instead, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo see it as he grabs water from the kitchen. 

“Love the new look, Captain!” Shachi teases, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. “You should keep it like that!”

Law reaches up to inspect his cheeks, but he can’t feel anything. He looks at Bepo, confused. 

“It’s kind of…everywhere,” Bepo says, trying his best not to crack a smile. 

Law quickly rushes to a mirror and finds his face covered in lip marks. He races out of the room without another word and back to you. 

“Y/N,” he says, trying not to get angry. “Next time, please inform me when you’ve…redecorated.”

You giggle and pull him into bed, adding another kiss mark to his forehead. Scrubbing it all off can be a problem for tomorrow.

[katz-chow]

any thoughts for pervy könig? i know he'd be so gross amd clingy, constantly stealing panties and huffing at them :( or watching you across from the showers, fisting his leaky cock and making eye contact with you :(

i bet he'd be stalk you 'nd everything !!! being so creepy and openly desperate :(

ignore this if you're uncomfortable !!

warnings: nsfw, gn! reader, pervy, toxic, power play, corruption kink, stalking, somnophillia, not proofread :D

all the things that lead up to that though, waiting and stalking you to see your reaction to everything hes doing.

him purposely putting a hand on your lower back to walk past you, his large hand traveling a bit too far down until you feel a squeeze on your ass

the next time he does it, you quickly arch into his grasp and look at him with those doe eyes of yours, all innocently. from then on, he knows how cheeky and desperate you are

always teasing you by making you go shower last, saying he needs some…help with paperwork. you always agree because he’s your superior!! why wouldn’t you??

ends up with the both of you in the empty showers late at night, you rubbing the soap down your body with the open curtains, allowing him to lean back on the benches by the lockers to feel his pants tighten, your freshly worn underwear in his hand.

by the time he finally pulls his stiff, leaky cock out, he can’t help but use your underwear to jerk him off :( it’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to you, you’re just so young and precious!!

will keep your cum stained underwear to “wash for you”. you ended up never seeing them again…along with a few other pairs

pervy konig who sneaks into your room while you’re asleep using his rank to get the master key. he sits there kneeling on the floor next to your bed as he sniffs your hair and your musk, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat from your sleep

he inhales your scent and just like that, he leaves his own potent one, cumming on your sheets…or if he’s feeling rather possessive, he’ll grind against your arm or hand until he cums all over you

pervy konig who grinds up against your ass when you’re both supposed to be focusing on a debrief, but he doesn’t care, it could’ve been an email. not his fault you’re standing next to him, your smell just turns on something feral in him

making you go into parade rest, your hands behind your back to grope and touch his growing bulge while no one dares peep a word about him grinding and grunting in the back of the room, he’s their superior too!! why would they risk getting in terrible trouble? especially harsh when someone that’s not him making you embarrassed

pervy konig who thigh fucks you, rarely ever allowing his dick to your oh so needy parts, slick dripping down your thighs and mixing with his own precum. when he thinks you’re doing particularly good, hell intentionally slide higher and rub against you, making you tremble and moan, edging you and denying. it leaves you all needy, allowing him to do all the pervy stuff just for the chance that he might authorize you to cum

“you’re too good for me, schätzelein…can’t stand ruining you yet…”

[chimielie]

cw: and they were roommates

oikawa has another date tonight.

you’re well used to it, the parade of people who he’s gone out with blurring together after years of friendship. especially now that you’ve moved in together and he bothers you every time someone says yes, like an excited puppy with a bone. and who wouldn’t say yes?

you’re lying on your bed, idly scrolling past cat pictures and outfit inspiration, while he blows in and out of your room, begging your opinion on every item in his closet. you don’t know why; you’ve gone through the whole thing a million times at this point and he always chooses just-slightly-too-tight jeans and a button-up open one button too far.

you’ve had nightmares about his collection of silky shirts. nightmares. only occasionally featuring the triangle of exposed chest.

“what about this one?” you roll to your side, blinking.

“i haven’t seen this one before,” you say thoughtfully. “do you still have enough money for rent? i swear you cycle through more clothes than i do in a year in a week.”

“shut up, do you like it?” his ears are burning red, and you smile. you like making him blush.

that’s a dangerous thought, so you turn your attention to his outfit, and—oh.

the new shirt is a cool, pale blue, complimenting the pink hues of his skin perfectly, looking like ice caps on winter waves. it’s tucked loosely into black pants, followed by black boots, laced up and tied with a perfect knot.

he looks like a million bucks.

“it’s perfect,” you say, after a beat too long of drymouthed silence. “um—when do you leave?”

he shoves the sleeve of the shirt up and checks his watch in one smooth motion, and you’ve seen his forearms a billion times, but encased in blue silk you kind of want to bite them? what a bizarre impulse.

“now,” he says, tone rising in panic. “shoot, i was gonna brush my teeth—how’s my breath?”

“how am i supposed to—” you start, but then he’s crossing the room, and you’re sitting up, spine straightening in confusion, and then he kisses you.

one long, hot press of the mouth over yours, his lips soft and open but claiming in a way that sucks every thought out of your head.

the silk of his shirt is cool in contrast to the heat of his skin, too.

“it’s—still fine,” you stammer when he pulls away. “minty. um.”

“perfect,” he says, adjusting his collar like he hasn’t just thrown your world off its axis. “see you later!”

you wave vaguely at his back, still scrambled as he exits your room, though not without turning to shoot you a cheeky wink and a peace sign. once you hear the front door slam shut behind him, you jolt out of your frozen state to fall back onto your bed, staring at the ceiling, just one thought running through your mind.

“what the fuck?”

part 2 here.

[iniquitousyearning]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Five-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, Threats of Violence, Jealousy, Toxic Behaviours, Possessive Behaviours, Mentions of GunPoint (enchanted gun but still), Italian, Flirty!Theodore!Nott, Angst, Sexual Tension.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"I don't know about this, Em..."

Giggles danced through the air, originating from your blonde companion, currently immersed in a thorough investigation of your shared closet. Her voice, laced with amusement, murmured something indecipherable, the words muffled by the solidity of the wooden door. A long sigh escaped your lips, a potent release of pure exasperation.

"This is crazy," you muttered to yourself. "Nott is going to need an entire bloody medical team when he catches sight of me..."

The enchanting red dress, a gem sourced from a privy boutique in Hogsmeade under Mattheo's explicit direction, molded itself to every contour as you confronted your reflection in the mirror. As your eyes traversed the fabric's journey, or rather, the lack thereof--there was no escaping the undeniable truth; the dress was exquisitely tight, sparing no nuance of your silhouette to the imagination.

"Doubt he'll even get the chance..." Emily replied, finally reemerging from the closet, "lover boy will likely claim his head the moment he fixes his gaze on you for too long."

Emily's cheeky response added a layer of playful anticipation to the charged atmosphere, earning an exaggerated eye roll from you in response as you fought hard to suppress your smirk.

When you'd embarked on the hunt for the ideal dress, you had brought Emily along for her valuable opinion. As your gaze fell upon this specific piece, uncertainty gripped you, convinced it might be a touch excessive. Yet, Emily staunchly opposed that notion. Her unwavering belief in its perfection became a contagion, subjecting you to prolonged minutes of relentless persuasion. Gradually, her infectious enthusiasm chipped away at your resistance until, inevitably, you succumbed--reluctantly handing over Mattheo's gifted galleons.

"And do I truly wish to burden my conscience with the death of the schools most popular Italian playboy? And not to mention Riddle's certain Azkaban sentence...all but a couple months from graduation?" you deadpanned, fingers instinctively rising to massage your temples in an attempt to alleviate the burgeoning headache. "Maybe I should just borrow something from your-"

"Absolutely not," Emily interjected, her voice cutting through your proposal with firm decisiveness. She approached you, a sparkle in her eyes, and added, "you look perfect. Trust me on this."

Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Emily's irises shimmered with a warm reassurance. She adjusted her flowy emerald green dress, a garment she had acquired at Tom's request--they were going to the masquerade together, though the status of their relationship still remained uncertain.

Emily, ever the advocate of going with the flow, a concept apparently foreign to Tom, said she wasn't in any rush to make things official, understanding that perhaps it would look a tad bit odd for him to start dating her after he'd just paraded you around to all of his friends, merely less than a few weeks go.

And as a result of this, you and Emily had a long, in depth heart-to-heart conversation where you made sure to unravel any lingering issues--the liberating honesty and the comfort of having someone in your corner again felt tangible. Although initially perturbed by the extended secrecy, Emily eventually grasped the rationale behind your discretion, acknowledging the protective measures taken for yourself and your desired career.

The depth of your longstanding friendship played a pivotal role in fostering this understanding, and you'd never been more thankful to have such a wonderful, supportive friend in your life.

"What do you think Michael will do when he spots you wearing traitor colours?" you teased, an impish grin playing on your lips as you watched Emily fix her long blonde hair, adjusting herself in the reflection.

"I reckon he'll be rather unamused," she snorted, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "But he'll be in for a real surprise when he sees you cozying up with Theodore Nott, the traitor extraordinaire."

"Cozying up with Theodore?" you retorted with a smirk, feigning innocence. "Absolutely not, I just recently cleared my conscience, I intend on keeping it that way."

"I wouldn't underestimate the Italian playboy; word on the street is he can be quite insistent..." Emily spun back around to face you, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. "My suggestion is that you tell him about Mattheo before he unwittingly finds himself sharing a bed with Berkshire."

Your expression sank, and a twist formed in your stomach. "Oh, gods, Emily, I need to change," you exclaimed, spinning around and making a beeline for the closet. "Surely there's a garbage bag or your grandmas old moo-moo hidden in here that I could wear instead, right?"

Emily's sudden snort echoed through the room, reverberating far louder than you'd expected. With swift precision, she wielded her wand, slamming the closet door shut before you could reach it.

"Come on, it's going to be fun," she teased, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Give those cocky Slytherin boys an experience they've never had before. Making them squirm is a rare opportunity--after all, they're not used to being denied anything."

You hesitated, a reluctant smile crawling across your face at her words as you silently considered the prospect. Mattheo had always made it abundantly clear that girls were typically within arm's reach for him, and he could have anyone he desired. The idea of driving him to the brink tonight, knowing he couldn't do a thing about it after explicitly instructing Theodore to ask you, ignited a rebellious spark within you.

"Alright, but this better not turn into a disaster," you responded, your internal thoughts dancing between uncertainty and a subtle thrill. "If the mafia comes after me because I smacked their most prized possession, I'm blaming you."

"You look fucking hot. Own it," she encouraged, a playful smile dancing on her lips. Turning her attention to the door, a sudden realization struck her. "I've got to run. Promised Michael I'd help him with his bloody tie--but don't forget to check the mail. Something arrived for you earlier."

With a swift goodbye, she whisked away, grabbing her matching emerald green eye mask, leaving you to contemplate the mysterious package. Not one to dawdle, you approached the table by the door, spotting a small brown box with your name inscribed on it.

With eager anticipation, you unwrapped the package, unveiling a stunningly bejeweled red mask. A note accompanied the alluring accessory, bearing the cryptic message:

"Something about me, I fucking hate the colour yellow."

A smirk played on your lips as you extracted the exquisite gift from its velvet cradle. The crimson mask lay in your hands, a stunning creation adorned with gemstones that caught and reflected the light with each subtle movement. Blush flooded your cheeks as you approached the mirror, slipping the mask on. Turning your head in every direction, you marveled at the way it enhanced your features, making you feel like a mysterious enchantress.

The beauty of the mask was beyond words, and even though the logical part of you knew it had to be from Mattheo, the sheer magnificence of the gift made it feel almost surreal.

After what felt like an eternity lost in the mirror, admiring the stunning mask, the realization hit that you needed to meet Theodore. He'd mentioned waiting for you at the entrance to your common room, so as swiftly as possible, you adjusted your dress, attempting to cover up your chest, and gracefully slipped out of your room, navigating the familiar halls with a sense of purpose.

The chilled corridor welcomed you as you emerged, and after a brief moment of searching, there, like an awakening spell, you spotted Theo--and your stomach nearly leapt into your chest at the sight of him.

"Holy shit, Nott...are you...are you actually wearing enemy colors?" Your jaw dropped as you beheld Theodore in a Ravenclaw blue suit, a sight you'd never expected in a million years. "Hold still, I need to take a bloody picture of this."

Theo's arrogant response came with a sly smirk, his dark eyes tracing hungrily over your figure. He stood before you in a pristine suit, accompanied by matching vest, and a crisp white dress shirt underneath. The ensemble was adorned with exquisite gold links and buttons, showcasing his impeccable taste. His confident demeanour suggested that he indeed cleaned up more than nicely, and this was only a slight indication of his professionalism.

"Sure, have your laughs," he quipped, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. His eyes moved deliberately, scanning the curves of your figure. "Enjoy the view while it lasts, little bird. This suit's debut is a one-time thing—I might just set it ablaze once the night is over."

"Well you certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?..." you teased, grin stretching past your ears as you took another step closer. "How honoured I am to accompany you in this suits first and only outing."

"Your wit is far too sharp for a Ravenclaw," Theo huffed in amusement, his stormy eyes glistening behind his dark blue mask. "You look properly fucking flaming by the way...do pardon my French."

You snorted, gracefully taking his arm as he offered it, intertwining yours around his. "French? I was under the impression you were Italian, Signor Nott."

"You speak it?" Theo raised an intrigued eyebrow, briefly glancing down at you as the two of you strolled towards the ballroom.

"Partially," you replied, a playful glint in your eye, your attention split between the conversation and the challenge of navigating gracefully in your black heels. Each step resonated with a confident clack on the school floors. "I dabble in a multitude of tongues...a side effect of an inquisitive mind."

"Is that so?" he said, pure intrigue in his tone. "Talk to me in Italian then,"

"Are you serious?" You snorted, far louder than you'd intended, waiting for him to say he was joking. He simply looked down at you, eyes locked on yours behind the mysterious mask.

"Absolutely serious," Theo chuckled, the breathy tones dancing in the air, a subtle spark of challenge in his eyes. "A little ball of knowledge, huh? Prove it."

A warm flush crept up your cheeks as you stifled your laughter. Theo had a charm of his own, a natural way of drawing people in much like Mattheo, although the troublemaking wizard had a slightly more breathtaking allure with those dark, intoxicating eyes and that unruly mop of chocolate curls. It wasn't a shortcoming on Theo's part--it was simply the irreplaceable magnetism that Mattheo possessed, but you couldn't deny the way Nott was making you feel.

"Alright, you want me to put my money where my mouth is, I respect that." You teased, clearing your throat as you pondered an Italian phrase that might leave an impression. After a brief moment of contemplation, it dawned on you. "Non c'è rosa senza spine."

(There is no rose without thorns.)

"Buona scelta," he replied with a smirk, his tone holding an air of both appreciation and subtle challenge. "Sei più astuta di quanto pensassi."

(Good choice; you’re more clever than I thought.)

"You underestimate me, Nott," you chuckled, a surge of pride coursing through you. "Consider that your first mistake."

"You know, the more I get to know you, the larger my desire to figure you out becomes,” he said, dropping his tone into a husky whisper as the two of you turned a corner. "You are...intriguing."

It was at this moment, as the two of you entered into the bustling main hall, that you were extremely thankful this event was a masquerade. The mask provided a welcome veil of anonymity, shielding you from the prying gazes that threatened to make you uneasy. It seemed you were blending seamlessly into Theo's arm, a part of the enigmatic allure rather than a subject of scrutiny.

"You couldn't figure me out in a million years," you retorted, a sharp edge to your tone, the corners of your lips subtly playing with a hint of a smirk. "Better men have tried."

Theo, as expected, didn't like that response. "Don't tempt me, little bird...I will make it my life's mission."

You rolled your eyes, chewing on your cheek. "You're far too sure of yourself, Theodore."

"Look at that, Bella...you're already using my first name," he quipped, smirking. "I'm making progress without even trying."

You fought the urge to smack him, your eyes narrowing in a playful challenge. "To know me, Signor Nott, I'll put you through hell...just ask Riddle, he can certainly attest."

"Mm, thats precisely the thing, little bird..." he said, his smirk holding a touch of intrigue. "Riddle's a closed book when it comes to you. Doesn't spill a damn thing, makes me wonder what secrets the two of you are hiding.”

"Quite a conspiracy, I'd say," you chuckled, relishing the light banter between you two as the distant sounds of music and laughter from the ballroom grew louder. With a nod and a playful smile, you gestured toward the entrance. "Shall we?"

Theo nodded, a playful glint in his eyes, as he released your arm and extended a hand to the small of your back, ushering you forward. "After you, milady"

Upon crossing the threshold into the ballroom, a breathtaking scene unfolded before your eyes. The room was adorned with vibrant spring decorations, an enchanting celebration marking the approaching end of the term. The fragrance of fresh flowers wafted through the air, and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns bathed the room in a warm, golden radiance. Hogwarts students from all years, dressed in their finest attire, wore a dazzling array of masks, each one a unique work of art.

As your eyes darted around the room, the search for familiar faces led you to a moment of anticipation. The diversity of masks, ranging from intricate designs to whimsical shapes, made it challenging to discern familiar faces.

Finally, your gaze landed on the only man you'd ever go out of your way to search for, his distinctive chocolate curls drawing your attention like a magnet amidst the sea of masked enchantment. The mere fucking sight of him, cloaked in newfound sophistication, sent a thrilling pulse through your veins, awakening sensations in your body that you were unprepared to face.

He stood there, like a fucking silhouette of elegance, adorned entirely in black--black mask, black suit pants, a sleek black dress shirt, and a finely tailored black suit vest. The only splash of colour adorned him in the form of a satin red tie, perfectly mirroring the shade of your dress. The entirety of your being froze in place, your throat resembling a parched desert, the sole reminder to keep moving coming from the steady pressure of Theo's hand on your back, coaxing you forward through the enchanting crowd.

As the two of you veered closer to them, the tension in your body was almost painful. Truth be told, it wasn't the singular presence of Mattheo that set your heart racing like a high-performance sports car on race day--oh, no, the true accelerant was his fucking date. The very girl from the washroom, the one you had directed him to accompany, and the vibrant colour of her long, flowing dress:

Yellow.

"Riddle, Malfoy," Theo uttered, initiating a firm handshake with each of his Slytherin comrades as they exchanged greetings. "Parkinson, Lanalock."

"Nott," Parkinson remarked, a smile gracing her features. "Never expected to see you in blue. You could easily pass for a Ravenclaw, you know."

Theo's response carried a touch of cunning arrogance, sneaking you a glance. "A choice made with utmost consideration, you might say."

In the midst of the social dance, your gaze and Mattheo's remained locked, an unbroken connection that felt more like a silent conversation than a mere exchange of glances. The unspoken tension between you two hung thick, and in that charged moment, it was uncertain if either of you had even blinked. Your heart pounded not only in your throat but also seemingly echoed in another, more intimate part of you as well.

Mattheo had never looked more fucking captivating, and the longing for him intensified by the millions--that merciless irresistible force effortlessly working to pull you closer.

Just as the tension threatened to become all-encompassing, Professor Dumbledore's voice reverberated over the lively chatter, his warm tone weaving through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the enchanting Spring Masquerade. I hope the magic of the night unfolds to your desires. Now, if you would kindly make your way to the dance floor, we are about to commence the first slow dance of the evening. So, let the celebration begin."

The resonance of Dumbledore's voice snapped you from Mattheo's visual captivity, prompting a few deliberate blinks and an expelled breath laden with tension. Theo, with a gentle glance, took your hand, guiding the group to choose spots on the dance floor directly adjacent to one another. It required every fiber of your being not to steal a glance at Mattheo, aware that the mere sight of him holding another girl would induce a wave of nausea within you.

Your attention became an exclusive affair with Theo. As he placed his hands on your hips, his grip was tender, a sensation entirely distinct from anything you'd experienced with Mattheo. A sharp intake of breath accompanied the elevation of your arms, led your palms to find a gentle perch on Theo's shoulders. In the depths of his stormy blue eyes, you unintentionally delved, oblivious to the intensity of the eye contact you established--you were so lost in your own thoughts that a bomb could go off in this very room, and you were certain you wouldn't even flinch.

Then, Theo's voice broke the silence. "Little bird, are you alright?"

"Oh, yes," you blinked, your voice escaping your throat in a cracked whisper, as though each word were a struggle for breath. "And you?"

"More than," he quipped, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Your watchful eyes tracked the journey of his gaze, starting from your eyes, sliding leisurely to your lips, lingering provocatively before venturing lower, dipping over your chest with a seductive grace before sinuously slithering back up. The subtle intimacy of the visual exploration ignited a warmth within you, and you glimpsed his lips, recalling Emily's advice from your dorm. Make these men squirm.

"Glad to hear it," you mused, a playful edge to your tone, your fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders as he delicately drew you closer. "Wouldn't want the Italian playboy to be anything other than alright."

His grip tightened perceptibly, the sensation almost tangible as if his nails could breach the delicate fabric of your dress. The room plunged into a soft dimness, signaling the beginning of the slow dance. The shift in atmosphere was unexpected, enough to make you jump slightly. For a fleeting moment, you locked eyes with Mattheo, finding his gaze fixed on you, his hands scarcely making contact with his date.

Hastily looking away, Theo's voice reached your ear, dangerously close, "Italian playboy, hmm? Is that what they're calling me these days?"

"Don't act like you weren't already aware," you chuckled softly, the resonance carrying a hint of mischief. "Though, I must say, the rumors might be onto something."

Theo smirked, his voice a low murmur tinged with arrogance. "Well, uccellino, despite the rumors, I assure you I am a proper gentleman..."

A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as his nails dug deeper into the fabric of your dress, compelling you closer as the two of you gracefully swayed to the music.

"How gentle you are, indeed," you mumbled, chewing your lip as you met his gaze, the two of you dangerously close together.

Theo's gaze deepened, his lean frame bending down as his lips brushed against your ear. "I may be a gentleman, Bella," he murmured, the words a seductive whisper. "...but if you keep looking at me like that--with those big eyes, biting on your goddamn lip...we might just be fucking on the nearest surface I find."

Oh, no. This was bad. Your response stammered out before you could even think to stop it, panic flickering in your eyes.

"I-I, excuse me," you stuttered, hastily breaking away from the dance just as the song was nearing its end. The abrupt departure carried a mix of flustered embarrassment and a desperate need to collect yourself.

Seeking refuge, you maneuvered toward the drink table nestled in the far corner of the room. The dim light and distant chatter provided a momentary escape as you began to slam back drinks, attempting to drown the intensity of the encounter with Theo.

As the remnants of a calm facade settled within, a subtle shift in the atmosphere stirred your senses. A tingling awareness compelled you to glance over your shoulder, only to find yourself ensnared in the dark, intoxicating depths of Mattheo's eyes. A strange yet undeniable wave of relief washed over you, despite the fact that he stood looming directly behind, adopting the guise of casualness while pretending to grab a drink.

"Mattheo," you breathed his name, the syllables escaping your lips like a breathless sin, a recognition of the forbidden allure that surrounded him. "What are you doing?"

Mattheo's breath, a tantalizing whisper, brushed against the nape of your neck, setting your nerves ablaze. "I can't stand the way he's touching you, Raven...I can't even stand the way he's fucking looking at you..."

Your lungs seemed to stall. "This was your idea, Matty..."

"I'm well aware," he hissed, the energy radiating from him palpable in the charged air. "Fuck, you look so fucking sexy...you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?"

"I'm not sure I do..." your heart melted, a subtle heat pulsating through your thighs. "I think I need you to tell me again."

"You are so, so fucking beautiful..." he muttered, his voice a deep husk, strained with lust as it left his throat. "You are the most captivating girl in this entire fucking room...I can't stop staring at you...I can't stop needing you..." you gasped as his hand grazed over your ass, subtly, but a feeling you'd never miss. "What do you think you're fucking doing to me, hm?"

You nibbled on your bottom lip, the flush of blood coloring your face. "At this moment...nowhere bloody close to enough."

Mattheo's voice, saturated with desire, responded, "You're absolutely right, princess...and I can't wait to have you all to myself, as soon as this dumb fucking dance is over."

A soft hum escaped you as your lids fluttered, reveling in the warmth of Mattheo's body behind you. "Unless Nott gets to me first..."

As though a switch had been flipped, Mattheo's hand seized your wrist with a subtle yet undeniable warning, a silent caution against uttering anything remotely similar again.

"Don't even joke about that, Raven," he growled, the intensity in his voice cutting through the air. "I swear to Salazar himself, what I did to Berkshire will pale in comparison to what I'll do to Nott."

"So jealous, Matty..." you purred, smirking as he slowly released your wrist. You couldn't deny that his possessive tendencies did something to you, however fucking insane they were. "So angry..."

"You like that, don't you?...dirty little slut..." you could practically hear the smirk on his perfect fucking lips, your entire body vibrating with need. "Keep tempting me, princess...I'll bend you over this table, fuck you in front of the whole fucking school...I'll point my gun at Notts fucking head and make him watch, on his knees in front of you as I fuck you stupid...how does that sound for jealous, hm?"

Breath eluded you, the sheer intensity threatening your consciousness. "Godric, help you..."

"Sorry, Raven, but the only help from above that I believe in is a sniper on a rooftop..." Mattheo's voice, a deep, honeyed drawl, slipped from his lips. "And just so you're aware, I know eighty different ways to kill a man--and I can make an easy seventy nine of them look like a bloody accident...understand?"

"Fuck..." your mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. It had been days since his last touch, and the way he spoke now made you crave him more than the very air you breathed. "I don't think I do...I think I need you to tell me again..."

"I've never been a jealous man, Raven..." Mattheo's gaze swept the surroundings, ensuring no lingering gazes were watching. Satisfied, he shifted slightly, his lips now at your other ear. "I've never envied someone for what they have or who they're with, and yet, I'm damn jealous of every asshole you smile at, everyone you openly converse with...I've never fucking wanted something that I couldn't have, a girl I couldn't get...so this, all of this...is fucking maddening."

Your lungs seemed to stall, a momentary freeze as if he'd submerged you into the heart of a raging inferno. A surge of warmth flooded through every fiber of your being, an intoxicating heat.

"I need you," your voice murmured, the words dripping with a desperate longing. "I need you in every fucking way imaginable..."

"Mm," Mattheo hummed, the warmth of his touch tracing the curve of your hip. "Such a delightfully dirty mouth for a princess..."

Feigning innocence, you lifted your gaze to meet his, a coy smile gracing your lips. "Perhaps...but even princesses have their secret pleasures, don't they, Matty?"

For a moment--a fleeting, beautiful fucking moment--your eyes locked, and it was in that secret realm, where slight smirks played on each of your lips, and the tension was fucking so thick that you could hardly breathe--where you both knew you've found what the whole fucking world was still carelessly searching for.

And it was there, that you knew--no man, no job, no fucking career could ever make you feel as happy and needed and treasured as Mattheo Riddle did. In his own, crazy, fucked up way.

Mattheo blinked. "Meet me in the washroom in forty minutes.”

—————————

Chapter 26->

[xoxo-sincerely-me]

𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆…

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who loves that you control every part of her

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who despite this fights to relinquish control

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who brats the most when she’s angry or feeling trapped

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who actively defies you with a cheeky smirk

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who calls you when your busy just to leave voicemails of her begging you to come home through her moans

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who changes your wallpaper to indecent photos her

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who sends you voice notes filled with her pussy noises

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who hates non-sexual punishments with a passion even though they settle her better

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who’d even take withholding sex over making her sitting with her thoughts or writhing/talking them out

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 you not responding to her touch frustrates her so much: being denied is hot but she needs your attention survive

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who has two wolves inside of her: one wants to be praised and the other wants to be punished, they are kissing

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who will rub up on you in public just so you punish her for it- stuffing her pussy full of a remote controlled vibrator and parading her around on a long shopping trip

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 making her wear a thong just to snap it against her skin in public

꩜𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕!𝒗𝒊 who could probably overpower when you pin her down but loves the feeling of your hand around her throat more

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒄𝒐𝒛 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒚, 𝒎𝒆

[nats--sw]

Leah with a goalkeeper kid is awesome! Any chance we can get Mary & Hannah’s reaction?

this wasn’t in the plans,, but I went for it anyway, it’s under 1000 words, so it’s a quick one, sorry for taking so long this is a short from this

It was a special day at the England national team training camp. Amidst preparations for the next round of friendlies, the team had set aside a couple of hours to film media content. The atmosphere was relaxed, the usual high energy focus shifted to something lighter.

Mary had just stepped out of the dressing room, busy adjusting her gloves, when Leah approached her with a grin that made her look far too pleased with herself. The kind of grin that always made Mary suspicious.

“What’s going on, Leah?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow, curious about the mischievous glint in Leah’s eyes.

“I’ve got a challenge for you” Leah announced, looping her arm through Mary’s and gently steering her in the opposite direction from where Mary was supposed to be.

“Hang on, I’m supposed to shoot some videos with Hannah” Mary protested, though she didn't resist that much.

“Change of plans, Mary” Leah said, her grin widening.

Mary was about to argue when she spotted Hannah nearby, standing next to a little girl carrying an armful of balls. 

“Wait... is that your daughter?” Mary asked, a touch of surprise her voice as she recognised Olivia.

“Yup” Leah said proudly.

Mary raised both eyebrows now, half-wondering how Leah had managed to sneak her daughter into a national team media day. But given the relaxed vibe of the day, she figured it was one of those rare occasions where bending the rules was allowed.

“Hi Mary!” Olivia came running up to them, beaming as she high fived Mary enthusiastically.

“Hey Livy!” Mary grinned, leaning down to her level. Then in a mock whisper, she added, “Does your mum know you’re here?”

Olivia gave her a cheeky smile and pressed her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Mary chuckled, shaking her head.

Hannah sidled up to Mary “Did you hear the news, Mary?”

Mary glanced at her teammate “What news?”

Leah came back with Olivia by her side, hands resting on her daughter’s shoulders, grinning even wider. “Looks like we’ve got your replacement lined up for when you retire.”

Olivia blushed a little under her mother’s proud gaze but stood tall, already wearing her gloves. Mary blinked, caught between amusement and admiration.

“Is that right?” Mary said, smiling down at Olivia “Well then, show me.”

“You're throwing them wrong on purpose, mom!” Olivia huffed, her cheeks flushed from the effort as she stood in the goal, catching her breath. It was the third shot in a row she had saved, her face glowing with pride. She stood under the goalposts they used for training, fully suited up in her keeper gear, proudly breaking in the new gloves Leah had bought her a few days earlier.

“I doubt it, kiddo. Your mom’s not exactly famous for her penalties” Mary teased from the sidelines, her voice laced with amusement.

Leah shot her a playful glare “I’ll take that as a compliment to my daughter and not a dig at me, thanks” she quipped, positioning another ball at her feet “Ready Livy?”

Olivia nodded enthusiastically, clapping her gloved hands together before crouching into position, her eyes locked on her mom.

“It’s going to the right!” Leah called out, sending the ball flying toward the left instead, hoping to throw her daughter off.

But Olivia was quick. With a determined leap, she deflected the ball with a firm swipe of her gloved hand, sending it out of bounds.

“Brilliant!” Mary cheered, bursting into laughter “The future of England’s got some serious hands!” Without hesitation, she jogged over, scooping Olivia up onto her shoulders.

All Olivia could do was giggle as Mary paraded her around the field, circling Leah, who had dramatically collapsed onto the grass, feigning defeat.

Leah, her face a mix of pride and amusement, sat up and dusted the dirt off her knees “Alright, alright, you win this round” she called out with a smirk, watching the two of them.

Mary, still carrying Olivia, shot Leah a mischievous grin “Great. Now, Livy, I’m going to teach you how to shout at your defenders so they don’t mess up”

“Ugh” Leah groaned, tilting her head back in mock dread. She couldn’t help but remember all the times Mary had scolded her for messing up on the pitch.

Olivia beamed from atop Mary’s shoulders, her eyes sparkling “Does this mean I get to play with Mary more often?”

Leah chuckled, shaking her head with a fond smile “We’ll see, Livy”

Mary finally set Olivia back down, ruffling the little girl’s hair “Anytime kiddo. Just give me a call and we’ll sort out a session”

Leah stood and walked over, wrapping her arm around Olivia “Alright, how about we head back inside before anyone realizes we’ve completely hijacked media day?”

Olivia nodded eagerly, still glowing with pride as they made their way towards the dressing room.

[npookie0]

Killer Pride

Happy Pride Month everyone!

For this occasion I decided to write a quick spend-pride-with-your-serial-killer drabble <3 Each love interest comes with their own sexuality/gender identity representation so here is the list (only Misaki and Ronin's gender identities are truly canon!) - Ronin -> transgender, bi rep <3 - Misaki -> nonbinary, pan rep! - V -> Asexual rep! - Angel -> Demisexual rep (i hc her as a lesbian or at least bi with fem pref but i wanted this reader to be g.n. so demi was the best choice because to me she's a demisexual lesbian)

Happy Pride and enjoy <3

Ronin

You two were getting ready to go out and take part in a Pride parade that was hosted in Elysium. You were very excited about this occasion, it was supposed to be the first pride you'd be taking part in with Ronin and not for work!

You put on the accessories you found and made with your flag's colours and looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt like your very own Pride star, with the accessories and make up and it felt great, you felt proud of yourself.

"You ready yet, darlin'?" You turned around when you heard Ronin's voice behind you and you gasped, then a giggle left your mouth. "Oh god! Are you trying to become a whole pride flag on your own?" You just looked at him in disbelief.

Ronin, still in his edgy-serial-killer-lord-of-the-night clothes had more colour than you've even seen him wear. Staring from the giant trans and bi flags being attached to his belt, going to all the hand made bracelets he was wearing on his wrists, most of these were probably going to end up as a hand out for all the kids who aren't able to be as open with their queerness as he is. Even his beanie managed to get a rainbow chain hanging from one of the horns. You would never admit it out loud but somehow he looked adorable like this and a tiny bit funny.

"What's so funny?" He raised an eyebrow with a cheeky smirk. "Y'know I'd go all out baby, don't act like you didn't." He ruffled your hair.

Angel

You expected your Pride month with Maria de la Rosa to be rather discrete and hidden, she had some LGBTQ+ friendly companies working with her in previous years, but now you're dating and you were expecting her to be cautious of showing of her queerness in front of her fans, worried of their opinions and comments.

But you couldn't be more positively wrong!

Your girlfriend decided to take you on a walk around the city so she could film a video for her channel about Elysium's ways of celebrating Pride and the traditions that she noticed over the years. The biggest shock for you was the fact that she was holding your hand, talking to you how she always did and even decided to keep the shot of you two kissing on camera.

"So, Maria, could you tell us more about the colours you're wearing today?" You asked, sitting next to her on a bench, Angel asked you to do a little interview with her about her queerness.

"I'm wearing the colours of the demisexual flag!" She answered with her signature sweet giggle.

You asked a few more questions and she even gave you an in-depth introduction to demisexuality. You looked the shine in her eyes, the excitement at the idea of educating her fans, especially the youngest of them, about the community she belongs to.

"I'm so proud of you!" You kissed Angel on the cheek and put the strawberry milkshake in front of her.

"Thank you sweetheart, without you it'd be duller and just way worse." She took your hand in hers. "Happy Pride, I love you."

Misaki :

"Misaki my wrist hurts." You groaned.

Your partner was using your arm as a mannequin for their bracelet, which meant that you had to hold out your arm so Misaki could make the jewellery on you.

"Aw, but think about all the gay kids who will wear these later, our wrist can be sacrificed for this!" They said half jokingly and you just scoffed, a beaming smile on your smile.

"Fine, fine, the baby gays are a fair cause here." You replied and looked over at your forearm that was covered by many colorful bracelets, most of them were rainbow and some other were in specific flag colours. Your wrists weren't the only ones full of queer jewellery, Misaki had some bracelets on their own, mostly ones in nonbinary and pansexual flags colours. You could see the passion in Misaki's eyes, how excited she was about making small trinkets for all the people of the community who maybe couldn't be as open as you two wish they could be.

"Do you think we have enough?" You asked when Misaki started to take some of the bracelets off of you. This was the fifth round of making them and Misaki slowly started to lose the beads with how many she used already.

They looked over at the pile and titled their head, thinking about your question. "It's enough," they paused, "for today at least! We have the whole month to go, babe! We'll make even more."

"I'll get you a real mannequin for this, because my wrists are dying."

"Sorry, sorry! i went a little overboard here." They chuckled.

"Pfft, you're lucky I love you, you silly cat." You kissed their cheek and stood up. "Come on now, we should go now if we want to catch a glimpse of any parades."

V :

"Do you really think you're fine with it?" You asked V who sat in the chair in front of you, you were holding an eyeshadow palette and brush in front of his face.

You and your boyfriend were supposed to go to a queer youth charity event, one that V was very eager to sponsor even before Pride month. Since this event was specifically hosted for Pride every guest was asked to represent their own sexuality or gender identity if they felt comfortable with it.

You suggested that you could give V a asexual themed make up and he agreed, yet you were worried that maybe he felt pressured to do so to make you happy.

V opened his eyes and nodded. "Yes, I told you that I'm happy with this, didn't I?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well yes, but..."

"My love, I'm an adult, I know what I agreed to and I still want to do it." He reassured you with that gentle and slightly sweet smile of his.

"Alright, sorry I guess I'm just worried since I never was on a big event like that before." You smiled mischievously. "I hope you won't mind a bit of glitter then mr. Valentin, 'cause I'll make you shine." With the playful threat you started to apply make up on his eyes, starting with white as the base and going through gray to black and then on the other edge you added purple. You weren't kidding when you told him about adding glitter, you really did add a tiny bit of silver glitter over the eye shadow for a better effect.

"What do you think?" You asked, giving him the mirror.

"You did a great job, thank you." He stood up and kissed you sweetly. "Do you think that I should also have a flag with me? They're small, but I bought one for me and another for you." He said and pointed towards the flags that were displayed on the bed, you couldn't believe that you didn't see them before.

"Yeah, I don't see why not, we could have them tied to our bags or belts, that's how many people were them too."

Yay! Happy Pride everyone! I was supposed to post this yesterday but well!!!!

Stay safe, hydrated and be proud of who you are <3

I hope to write more pride related fic for each one of them later this month cause these are just quick drabbles for funnsiesss

Also if someone has the pride month calendar pls send it my way I saw 3 different ones on tik tok and I'm not sure which one to trust ;w;

Nate <3

[sxcretricciardo]

Jealousy, jealousy…

you and Lando have been messing around for quite a while now when feelings start to rise in you. What happens when he brings a certain blonde along the paddock?

•

The hum of the engine filled your ears as you adjusted your gloves, the roar of the crowd faintly audible over the buzz of the paddock. Formula 1 had always been your dream, and being on the grid was nothing short of extraordinary. But amidst the high-octane rush of racing, something—or rather, someone—had taken up residence in your thoughts.

Lando Norris.

It started harmlessly enough: late-night texts about race strategies, a few too many drinks at celebratory dinners, playful banter that turned into lingering touches. What began as an unspoken friends-with-benefits arrangement had spiraled into something far more complicated for you.

You were falling for him.

But Lando? He seemed as carefree as ever, his cheeky grin never faltering. That was until Magui Corceiro entered the picture. She wasn’t just stunning—she was magnetic, the kind of woman who could walk into a room and have everyone’s attention without trying. And now, it seemed, she had Lando’s.

The tension between you and Lando simmered as the season progressed. He’d parade Magui around the paddock, her laughter echoing in your ears like a mocking melody. Every glance they exchanged felt like a stab to your chest. You hated how jealous it made you. You hated her.

Your frustration bubbled over one day during a team press conference. Magui had been lingering nearby, chatting animatedly with some reporters. You couldn’t help the sharpness in your tone when asked about your rivalry with Lando.

“Rivalry?” you scoffed. “It’s more like a game of who can distract themselves more outside the car.”

The room went silent. Lando shot you a sharp look, his jaw tightening. You regretted the words instantly, but the damage was done.

Race day came, and the air was electric with anticipation. The battle for first place had narrowed down to just two contenders: you and Lando. The grid was alive with tension, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air. You felt it in every fiber of your being—the need to prove yourself, to beat him, to show him what he was missing.

The race was a blur of high-speed turns and daring overtakes. It came down to the final lap, the roar of the crowd deafening as you pushed your car to its limits. You crossed the finish line mere milliseconds ahead of Lando, claiming victory. The elation was overwhelming, a rush unlike any other.

As you stood on the podium, champagne spraying into the air, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Lando. His expression was unreadable, a mix of pride and something else you couldn’t quite place. You brushed it off. Tonight, you were celebrating—and you didn’t need him to do it.

Hours later, the club was alive with music and laughter as you celebrated your victory. Your team had rented out a section, and you basked in the attention, dancing with abandon. The beat of the music and the rush of victory were enough to drown out any lingering bitterness.

Until he showed up.

Lando’s entrance was impossible to miss. His presence seemed to command the room, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. He didn’t hesitate, weaving his way through the throng of people until he was standing right in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“Celebrating your win,” he said, his voice calm but his eyes betraying a storm of emotions. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” you echoed, stepping closer. “You, Lando. You’re my problem.”

“Me?” His eyebrows shot up in mock disbelief. “What the hell did I do now?”

“Oh, don’t act clueless,” you snapped. “You’ve been parading Magui around the paddock like she’s your prize, and now you show up here like nothing’s wrong?”

His jaw tightened, his usual playful demeanor replaced with frustration. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You’re acting like a jealous child.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I’m not jealous.”

“Yes, you are,” he shot back, his voice rising. “Every snarky comment, every glare—it’s written all over you. Just admit it.”

“Why should I admit anything?” you countered, your voice trembling. “You made it clear I’m just some… convenient distraction to you.”

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “Is that what you think? That you don’t mean anything to me?”

You faltered, your anger giving way to uncertainty. “What am I supposed to think, Lando? You’re with her.”

“I’m not with her,” he said firmly. “Magui and I… it’s not like that. It was never like that.”

“Then why—”

“Because I didn’t know how to deal with this!” he interrupted, his voice raw. “With us. With you.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean, ‘us’?”

“I mean I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every time I see you, I want to be near you. And every time I’m not, it’s… unbearable.”

“Lando…”

He stepped even closer, his hand brushing against yours. “You’re more than just a distraction. You’re… everything. And I was too scared to admit it.”

The words hung in the air between you, the weight of them sinking in.

“Then why push me away?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “And because I knew that if I let myself feel this… there’d be no going back.”

You hesitated for only a moment before closing the distance between you, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that was equal parts anger and desperation. He responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you as the world around you disappeared.

Back at your hotel room, the tension that had been building for months finally exploded. The door barely shut behind you before Lando pressed you against it, his hands framing your face as he kissed you deeply.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky.

“Then stop talking,” you replied, tugging at his shirt.

He chuckled, but there was no hesitation as he pulled it over his head, revealing the lean, toned body you’d tried not to notice during countless race weekends. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your back, slipping under your shirt to touch bare skin.

You fumbled with the buttons of his jeans, your fingers trembling with urgency. He groaned as you finally succeeded, his lips never leaving yours as he guided you toward the bed.

Clothes disappeared in a blur of movement, leaving nothing between you but the heat of your bodies. Lando’s touch was both gentle and possessive, his hands mapping every inch of your skin as if trying to memorize you.

“Tell me you want this,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he hovered over you.

“I want this,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair. “I want you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He moved against you with a rhythm that was both deliberate and intoxicating, his kisses trailing down your neck, your chest, every part of you he could reach.

You lost track of time, the night a haze of pleasure and whispered confessions. He whispered your name like a prayer, his voice trembling with need.

“I’m sorry,” he said at one point, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. “For everything. For not saying it sooner.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. “You’re here now.”

“Always,” he promised, his lips brushing against yours.

The rest of the night was a symphony of desire and tenderness, every touch and kiss a silent declaration of the feelings you’d both been too afraid to voice. By the time the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, you lay tangled together, the weight of your confession lifting like the morning mist.

For the first time in months, everything felt right.

[pinkiemachine]

TAMARANIAN WEDDING HEAD CANNONS!

This one’s for you, @gaddaboutgriffon !

A traditional Tamaranian wedding lasts at least two days, but in the case of royalty, the festivities can last over a week. The wedding I am about to describe is strictly a royal wedding.

DAY ONE: Spent in solemn silence, accompanied by the wearing of veils and hoods and the clanging of bells to ward off “bad luck” and “evil spirits.” The bride and groom also do not see one another on this day. If they do, they must “cleanse” themselves of the bad luck by bathing in the local hot springs (said to have mystic properties) and eating nothing but tutka (a type of root plant) for the next 24 hours.

DAY TWO: Before the day of the actual marriage ceremony, there is still more to do. On this day, everyone in the bride and groom’s inner circle (friends, family, and important people) gather for the pre-celebrations. The bride and groom are allowed to see one another, but are still forbidden to touch. During the celebrations, the groom and his groomsmen (of which there can be as many as thirty) must perform a traditional song and dance to honour the bride, and bring “good luck” to the marriage. This is typically followed by everyone beginning to dance together.

Once all the guests are sufficiently tired from dancing, the Great Feast begins! This meal symbolises the coming together of the two families of the bride and groom. It’s also, well… have you seen the episode of the OG Teen Titans show where Star gets betrothed and there’s a wedding ceremony? The meal they share? Yeah, it’s that. Chaotic, every man for himself, fun times.

DAY THREE: The morning is spent performing the painting ceremony. The bridesmaids and the groomsmen must paint the bride and groom with the traditional iconography of the Tamaranian royal household all over their bodies. This honours the past generations of royalty, as well as representing good luck, family, and blessings on the bride and groom. *cough cough* fertility… This painting ceremony can take several hours, depending on the designs chosen, and the skills of the men and woman involved. Then they are both dressed in white to symbolise purity, and both types of wedding garb are meant to elevate each person to their most feminine and their most masculine. (This is said to bring good luck to uh… well, fertility, again…)

BONUS: Now, here is a tradition that has no strict time/place in the ceremonies, as it involves a little bit of cheekiness. See, from the beginning of day two, all the way to right before the marriage ceremony commences, the bride will be in danger of “being stolen.” The groomsmen, bridesmaids, family members, and/or other friends just might come and whisk the bride away from the groom (all in good fun of course) prompting the groom to find and “rescue” his bride often by paying a bribe of alcohol or something sweet. Lol. This doesn’t usually happen during a royal wedding, as it’s considered awfully silly, but there have been a few exceptions over the centuries.

Still on day three—after the painting ceremony is finished, the bridesmaids and groomsmen switch places in preparation for the next phase: the parade! The bridal party rides through the capital city in a massive parade where thousands of citizens have gathered to celebrate! The groom is escorted by the bridesmaids, to protect him from other women who might try to steal him away, and the groomsmen do likewise for the bride. (You’d be surprised how many times a ruffian has tried to carry off a Tamaranian princess during the parade.)

The procession arrives at the royal “cathedral” (for lack of a better english word) and then they must all wait for exactly one minute past midday to begin. At the altar, the officiator asks the bride, groom, and their parents to follow him into a special private room where an intimate and sacred tea ceremony takes place.

Following the tea ceremony, the couple and their parents return to the altar for the rest of the ceremony. The bride and groom exchange sacred vows, then the “veil of purity” is wrapped around them, to ensure the couple’s love and loyalty toward one another.

After this lengthy ceremony, the wedding party is expected to shout for joy in honour of the newlywed couple, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lift the bride and groom up together on a special palanquin and carry them to the Great Hall where the Second Great Feast takes place. This time, it is the duty of the groom to go and collect food for his new wife by fighting the other men for it! This is his first task as a husband, and his first test of strength. Also at the second feast, there are more traditional dances, for more blessings on the couple and to ward off any remaining evil spirits.

The night concludes with the bride and groom changing into a second pair of wedding clothes and performing another ritual dance: the dance of undying love. 🥰

Finally, they change into their departing garments to leave the celebration, and on their way out they are showered with a spray of alcohol, a barrage of feathers, and a storm of flower petals, all tokens of good will and blessings upon them. Where the bride and groom disappear to, no one is allowed to know, and they might not return for three months or more.

Fittingly, while the couple is away, the party-goers eat, drink, and make merry for days on end—basically until the food runs out.

And that’s it. :) That’s my take on a Tamaranian royal wedding. Hope you enjoyed!

[yrluvjane]

Okay but like Barty where you show up at a party in revealing clothes to make him jealous bc all fought that morning and he just picks you up before you reach the snacks table and takes u to his dorm and u can make up the rest 😏 😏

-🪳

The party pulsed around you like a living thing—bodies pressed together, laughter ringing too loud, the scent of spiked punch and sweat thick in the air. You stood in the doorway, surveying the scene with calculated detachment.

You hadn't come for the music.

Hadn't come for the drinks.

You'd come for him.

Barty Crouch Jr. lounged against the far wall like a panther surveying its domain, all sharp angles and sharper smiles, surrounded by his usual entourage of Slytherin sycophants. His fingers tapped an idle rhythm against his thigh, the silver of his prefect's badge catching the light as he turned his head—

—and froze.

His eyes locked onto you with the force of a hex.

The outfit had been carefully chosen—just enough skin to draw every eye in the room, just enough mystery to make them look twice. The way Barty's knuckles went white around his goblet told you it was working.

You made your way to the snack table with deliberate slowness, acutely aware of the whispers following in your wake. The punch bowl became your temporary sanctuary as you pretended to examine the questionable-looking canapés.

A hand closed around your wrist like a manacle.

"Enjoying yourself?" Barty's voice was velvet over steel at your ear.

You didn't flinch. "The hummus is surprisingly edible."

In one fluid motion, he spun you around—and promptly hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Barty!" You kicked out, earning several scandalized gasps from nearby partygoers. "Put me down!"

"Make me," he growled, and marched straight out of the common room.

The hallway was blessedly cooler, the stone walls muffling the party's din. He didn't stop until he'd kicked open an empty classroom door and deposited you unceremoniously onto a desk.

"You," he jabbed a finger at your chest, "are a menace."

You swung your legs idly. "I have no idea what you're—"

"That dress is a crime." His eyes burned trails down your body. "I should turn you in to the authorities."

You arched a brow. "The fashion police?"

"The me police." He stepped between your knees, caging you in. "What were you thinking, parading around like that?"

"That maybe if I looked irresistible enough," you toyed with his tie, "someone irresistible might finally stop pretending he doesn't care."

Barty's breath hitched. For a heartbeat, the mask slipped—revealing something raw and desperate beneath. Then his lips crashed into yours with the force of a breaking dam.

It wasn't gentle.

Wasn't sweet.

It was teeth and tongue and years of pent-up frustration poured into one searing kiss. His hands found your waist, hauling you flush against him as if he could erase all space between you.

When you finally broke apart, his forehead rested against yours. "You win," he rasped.

You nipped at his lower lip. "I know."

His laugh was dark, delicious. "Cheeky little—"

The door burst open.

"Merlin's balls!" Evan Rosier's voice cracked. "I just came for the extra firewhiskey!"

Barty didn't even turn. "Piss off, Rosier."

"Gladly!" The door slammed shut.

Silence.

Then—

"You owe me a new set of eyeballs!" Rosier's muffled shout came through the wood.

Barty sighed. "I'm going to murder him."

You grinned. "Later."

And pulled him back in.