#professor mist

[professor-mist]

Fidough or Lechonk?

Fidough, I am easily swayed

#pokémon #pokemon ask blog #professor mist #lechonk #fidough #pokemon scarlet and violet #i screamed DOG when I saw it #I am weak

[dragonflyinnovates]

My plate is finished! By far one of my favorite pieces I’ve done recently.

Alolan Ninetales are such majestic creatures, I would love to see one turn up at the center at some point.

#pokemon #pokemon pottery #pottery #ceramics #professor mist #pokémon ask blog #ninetales #alolan ninetales #hopefully my lilligant one will turn out just as well! #who else should I put on my pottery?

[longwuzhere]

Here are some cool Easter eggs that I found the newest My Adventures with Superman episode, "My Interview with Superman" Links to my first two easter egg posts for episode 1 and 2 are here and here.

Link to my episode 4 easter egg post is here

Link to my episode 5 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 6 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 7 easter eggs post is here and here

Link to my episode 8 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 9 easter eggs post is here

Link to my episode 10 easter eggs post is here SPOILERS if you have not seen the episode of course:

We start off the episode with an Amazo Tech blimp crashing into a building in Metropolis

You don't see a lot of blimps in Metropolis. Gotham is usually the one with a lot of blimps flying around. If you saw the episode on Adult Swim when it premiered on air you'll know that the next episode involved Professor Anthony Ivo and Amazo Tech. Throughout the previous episodes and this one, the Amazo Tech brand is shown to set up next week's episode. After the scene we go to a break in at Stryker's Island (more on that location later) as we see one of the villains for the episode Mist...

and one of his partners...

Rough House who are trying to break out...

Shiobhan McDougal. If you know your Superman comics, you'll also know here as Silver Banshee.

Kyle/Mist is a VERY old DC supervillain from the 1940s who first appeared in Adventure Comics #47 (1941) as the arch villain to Starman. Mist's design in the comics is RADICALLY different from the show.

MAwS modernized Mist's design compared to here in these comics panels (W: Alfred Bester, P&I: Jack Burnley, C: Raymond Perry, L: Betty Bentley). In the comic Mist's power allows him to turn his body into a gaseous form thus the name. MAwS uses Mist as someone who can turn himself and objects invisible (lowkey when Mist showed up I was like "is that Luminus from Superman the Animated Series?") Fun fact in the comic, we don't know what Mist's last name is. All we know is that his name is Kyle and in the show that is what Rough House calls him on accident but at least he has a last name, McDougal in MAwS.

Rough House makes his first appearance in Adventures of Superman #544 (1997) (W: Karl Kesel, P: Stuart Immonen, I: José Marzán Jr., C: Glenn Whitmore & Digital Chameleon, L: Albert DeGuzman) where we see him rip open a door with his bear hands as a member of Intergang (more on them later).

Siobhan McDougal aka Silver Banshee makes her first appearance here in Action Comics 595 (cover by John Byrne). In the comics Silver Banshee's powers are a lot different than how MAwS does it. Comics Silver Banshee has the Banshee Curse giving her powers like flight, super strength, a death stare, and of course her signature thing, the Death Wail, a sonic scream that can knock someone into a coma or it outright kills them. The version in the show gives Silver Banshee her signature sound manipulation powers through a mask...

which kind of invokes her comic counterpart's skull face design.

Mist and Rough House break into Stryker's Island to free Mist's sister Silver Banshee (in the comics Mist and Silver Banshee have no familial connection). Stryker's Island makes its first appearance in Superman #9 (1987) (W&P: John Byrne, I: Karl Kesel, C: Tom Ziuko, L: John Costanza) where Joker arrives in Metropolis to challenge Superman. Stryker's Island is supposed to be a stand in for Riker's Island in New York even though there is a Riker's Island in the DC Universe because Metropolis is often a reflection of New York City.

The next Easter egg is the scene after where Lois name drops Waid's Cafe as a reference to...

Mark Waid, one the best writers in the comic book industry. In terms of DC work, you might recognize his writing credit on Flash with artist, Brian Augustyn (we miss you Brian), Kingdom Come with painter, Alex Ross, and Superman Birthright with artist, Leinil Yu (highly recommend checking out all three titles). He's also currently writing for Batman/Superman: Worlds Finest with artist Dan Mora, which I also HIGHLY recommend reading. Fantastic writer, super nice person if you ever meet him at a convention.

Later, Jimmy is heard screaming "back you monsters" and we see some more of the Daily Planet staff...

From left to right its Cat Grant (doing the anime high society lady laugh), who runs the celebrity and gossip side of the paper, Steve Lombard, who reports on sports, and Ronnie Troupe, the investigative journalist on the team. Their names were mentioned in the previous episode after taking Lois, Jimmy, and Clark's credit for the Superman piece.

Cat Grant make her first appearance here in the Adventures of Superman #424 (1987) (W: Marv Wolfman, P: Jerry Ordway, I: Mike Machlan, C: Tom Ziuko, L: John Costanza) as a potential love interest to Clark to shake up the Clark-Lois-Superman dynamic. You might've seen her in the live action CW Supergirl show. Like in MAwS, in the comics Cat does the gossip columns writing for the Daily Planet.

Steve Lombard makes his first appearance in Superman #264 (1973) (W: Cary Bates, P: Curt Swan, I: Murphy Anderson) as a foil to Clark Kent. Steve acts very brash and rude to contrast Clark's mild manner and friendly demeanor. Later iterations of Steve give him the mustache that becomes part of his signature design.

In MAwS, Ronnie Troupe is a gender swap of Ron Troupe in the comics who makes his first appearance in the Adventures of Superman #480 (1991) (this page specifically, W: Jerry Ordway, P: Tom Grummett, I: Denis Rodier, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: Albert DeGuzman). Like his MAwS counterpart, Ron is an investigative journalist and very level headed. He was the first to break the story about Cyborg Superman meeting the then PoTUS, Bill Clinton.

A news report on TV in the Daily Planet shows Bethany Snow of Channel 52 News reporting about the break out in Stryker's Island. The logo for Channel 52 News reminds me very much DC's 2005 logo.

As for Bethany Snow and Channel 52 News, Bethany made her first appearance in the New Teen Titans #22 (1982) (W: Marv Wolfman, P: George Perez, I: Romeo Tanghal, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda) as a news reporter and follower of the Brother Blood cult.

Later iterations and retcons had Bethany Snow as just a reporter where she does the Channel 52 news in the back end of DC comic titles in 2013.

Freddie E. Williams II is the artist for these as Channel 52 was way to let readers know what is happening in other DC titles that they might want to check out with other DC characters reporters accompanying Bethany as seen in the promotional art with Vartox, Ambush Bug, and Calendar Man. Obviously MAwS redesigned Bethany Snow but they at least kept her occupation.

A quick one but we see Lois call Clark "Smallville" a nickname that has been used in various media involving Clark and Lois.

After news report on TV, we cut to Siobhan, Kyle, and Rough House in their hide out where they name drop their group name, Intergang.

In the comics and other media, Intergang is a world wide crime syndicate who is supplied with powerful high tech weaponry from the evil New Gods of Apocalypse, if you know your DC universe, that is everyone is Darkseid's circle. Intergang first appeared in Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen #133 (1970) created by LEGENDARY artist Jack Kirby.

Here in Forever People #1 (1971) (W&P: Jack Kirby, I: Vince Coletta, L: John Costanza), you can see they have direct contact with Darkseid. Originally led by Morgan Edge, later versions of Intergang had leadership change from Joe Danton to Max Danner. Post-crisis, Intergang is led by Bruno Mannheim (the Intergang boss that I am familiar with), his father Moxie Mannheim would later lead Intergang. Current continuity in DC has Bruno still be the leader of Intergang.

In the episode we learn that MAwS version of Intergang is very small time. Siobhan, Kyle, and Rough House rob convenience stores and make smash and grab runs. But maybe MAwS will move Intergang in the criminal syndicate direction in the future who knows.

After the Intergang scene we cut to Lois, Jimmy and Clark walking up to the front of Stryker's and Jimmy mentions something interesting about convincing the warden to spill on the government's... (read Jimmys quote in the screenshot to complete the sentence)

The term meta-human has its roots in the DC Universe if you did not know! The term was first used here in Invasion #1 (1988) (W: Keith Giffen and Bill Mantlo, P: Todd McFarlane, I: P. Craig Russell, C: Carl Gafford, L: Gaspar Saladino)

In the comic, the Dominators discover that certain humans have what is known as the meta-gene which grants them powers when under a lot of duress and so to test this they rounded up a group of humans and experimented on them with only 6 surviving who gained powers. The Dominators conclude that the human population must be eliminated or there will be a rise in meta-humans on Earth.

How does the government, according to Jimmy, connect to all this. is a possible nod to one of the plot points in Doomsday Clock where the idea that 90% of DC's meta-humans are from the US and they have been engineered by the government. This conspiracy, in the comic is known as the Superman Theory.

This here is one part of the back matter you can read at the end of Doomsday Clock # 5 (2018) (W: Geoff Johns, P&I: Gary Frank, C: Brad Anderson, Back Matter Design: Amie Brockway-Metcalf). Later the trio, specifically Lois, steals the warden's ID badge and were able to access where Siobhan was kept. On the ID the warden's name is Agatha Zorbatos, who's first appearance in the comics was in Batman #23.4 (2013), as the warden of Blackgate Penitentiary in Gotham

Obviously her design in the comic is drastically different from how she looks in the show. The one on your right is from Batman Eternal #4 (2014) (Story: Scott Snyder & James Tynion IV, Script: John Layman, Consulting Writers: Tim Seeley & Ray Fawkes, P: Dustin Nguyen (my favorite comic book artist of all time), I: Derek Fridolfs, C: John Kalisz, L: Rob Leigh).

At the climax of the episode we see more of the alien crystal that Superman encountered last episode from the tech that MAwS Intergang used and it strangely looked familiar. I wouldn't be surprised if the animation team were fans of Neon Genesis Evangelion especially with the way the robots were designed in the first part of episode one and here how the crystal reshapes itself like the angel Ramiel. Also since I'm at my 30 image limit here and I can't post anymore, I also want to point out that the poster that Siobhan has in her cell was a cat with the words "Believe it" over its head I like to believe that is a Naruto reference because the dub has Naruto say "believe it" all the time. I guess I'm gonna be doing the Easter Eggs and references for each episode so expect this to be a weekly thing. I hope you all enjoy my doing this If you made it down here and want to see my first two easter eggs and reference posts for episodes one and two are here and here.

My post of episode three's easter eggs is here

My post of episode five's easter eggs is here

My post of episode six's easter eggs is here

My post of episode seven's easter eggs is here and here

My post of episode eight's easter eggs is here

My post of episode nine's easter eggs is here

My post of episode ten's easter eggs is here

#My Adventures with Superman #Superman #Clark Kent #Lois Lane #Jimmy Olsen #Amazo #Amazo Tech #Professor Ivo #Anthony Ivo #Professor Anthony Ivo #Mist #DC Mist #DC Comics Mist #Kyle McDougal #Starman #Adventure Comics #Rough House #Silver Banshee #Siobhan McDougal #Stryker's Island #Strykers Island Penitentiary #Striker's Island Penitentiary #Cat Grant #Steve Lombard #Ronnie Troupe #Ron Troupe #Ronald Troupe #Bethany Snow #Channel 52 News #New Teen Titans

[jorgeburgos8]

Finishing my research in Kitakami, I was exploring the mountains… when I came across something that made my blood run cold.

#digitalart #digital #digital drawing #digital art #poke lab #pokemon #professor #pokemon professor #bloodmoon ursaluna #bloodmoon #red moon #moonlight #night #forest #mountain} #mist #fan art #kitakami #teal mask

[revengeghoulette]

Thank you for reading the first part of Matcha Latte w/Rose. I suck at titles, so that's what were going with!

I can't express how truly happy and giddy the notes on reblogs make me! I'm over here blushing and giggling like an idiot. All your comments and stuff really do keep me going.

If you liked it, please let me know what you think!! Share it with your friends and family hehehe

Thank you,

Rev

#revenge rambles #Coffee shop AU #If you want to be tagged in the second part let me know #i promise i dont bite #im really proud of this one #Swissalps #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #mist ghoulette #sunshine shoulette #college au #uni au #professor mountain #barista swiss

[blacksails2017]

yosemite was incredible it was such a nice break from Everything the views the vibes all exceded expectations can’t wait to go back with a more concrete plan. having no service for 10 hours of the day??? incredible 

#the air was so fresh the foliage so green SO many waterfalls and chances to get misted it was so healing #didn't do as much hiking as we'd hoped bc most things were closed but we made the most of it and ended on a harder hike and it felt 10/10 #my friends ran into their uni band professor which was Wild like What are the Odds

[rivascn-blog]

,#EternizandoMomento #Miste #Professor #Rodrigo Barreto @rbsports_oficial com o #Guidão #GuidoJosé (em Cachoeira Paulista- Canção Nova) https://www.instagram.com/p/CniNReXp6Hk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#eternizandomomento #miste #professor #rodrigo #guidão #guidojosé

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: FUSHIGURO

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. Anon. I love you and hate you for this request. This was…hard. I told myself I wouldn’t publish it unless it was fucking perfect (you should see the scalpels I took to each goddamn sentence before this version).

SECOND: I will square up with Gege for writing the most enigmatic, LAYERED, complex, muddled character to exist. I wanted this to be Megumi. Through and through. His darkness, his light, his reservation, his crazy, all in one. And IDK. I think I did it? This one is purely to prove to myself that I can write for characters that are hard to write for (*cough* yuta im glaring at you *cough*)

THIRD: if you do read this (I get people feel things about aged up characters etc), I implore you to listen to this. Guys. I heard this at 0200 IN THE OR during a 6 hour case and the entire concept for this came to me. Meg is sophisticated and unruly, selfless and selfish, etc. So this has some NSFW but definitely probably more on the poetic, long ends of my works.

CW: Aged up characters (20+), college AU, fluffy/raunchy/dark romance-y because LOOK at him. He takes after Gojo AND Toji. Mature, 18+

“You like it when I’m rough.”

Megumi’s melody rings crystal clear.

Low.

Precise.

An F-14 Tomcat fighter jet, flying dark. Below enemy radar.

The piano keys float beneath his tone. His long, slender, deft fingers effortlessly execute the sheet music before him. It’s his GPS system, a personal flight map.

Little Beethoven, his advanced music theory professor calls him.

Truth is, Megumi is a prolific pianist and vocalist. He can tame any note, any melody, any harmony faster than any of his Shikigami.

Speaking of…

Megumi pulls off the piano and tortured love song in an instant. Just as the grade 3 curse creeps through the open door.

The part between his right long and ring fingers is automatic. His left hand grips the web space between his right thumb and index finger.

“Demon dog.” Megumi summons.

Low. Precise. Decisive.

“Eat it, boy.”

A small, approving smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Low level curses are the nothing more than chew toys to his divine dogs. With a tiny wave of his fingers, his technique buzzes inward.

Megumi’s eyes float to the ancient analog clock on the wall.

13:50

10 more minutes until you’ll meet him for your date.

No. Not date.

Study. 10 more minutes until you’re meeting him to study.

Your thought blooms within him like wildfire. It sets his normally cool, porcelain skin ablaze.

Megumi whips his body around to face the piano. To exorcise the feeling. The keyboard has always been his outlet. His life blood. Playing, singing, musing in and out of written songs is his catharsis.

Words don’t come easy. They never have. But lyrics do.

And when he gets to ride lyrics with his voice, his runs..?

The words he can never find on his own are suddenly out there. In the atmosphere. Coating empty rooms in a mist of his thoughts, his feelings.

No certain promise that the person the words are destined for will ever catch them. Or ever walk through the room and be kissed by the remnants of his musical trail. But Megumi has said (sung, played) them. And that’s enough.

“Sorry if I come across a type of way.”

“I’ve been trying to get out of my way…”

His fingers dive into the keys. Angrily. Earnestly.

“I know it doesn’t seem like I care, but you know I care—“

“Wow Meg, you sound incredible.”

You bring him to an abrupt stop. Your voice is maple syrup trailing down Megumi’s neck, leaving goosebumps in its candied wake.

Pitch fucking perfect.

A soft, ethereal C, gliding down Heaven’s staircase. You infuse sunlight into his name, whichever way you choose to say it.

And it’s hell. It’s cruel. To have as keen hearing as he does. To listen to you sing his name and have nothing else follow.

“Fushiguro.” Megumi shoots up from his seat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“What?”

“Fushiguro.” He repeats, eyes briefly meeting yours before settling above your head. He’s at least a head and shoulders taller.

“Nobody calls me Meg.”

You throw your head back. Feather light crescendo in your laughter. It’s pretty. Tantalizing in the way chandeliers twinkle when they capture a beam of light.

His eyes dart down to catch the feminine column of your neck. Curving into your delicate collar bones. How are your lines so seamless?

So cinematic. Like he’s watching a figure skater land a triple axel. Or a prima ballerina en pointe. It’s not fathomable.

Gorgeous.

You are gorgeous.

“I call you Meg.” You retort with a smile that liquifies all of his joints.

You double your walking speed to keep pace with Megumi’s long strides. Both of you exit the sound engineering building. Heading straight for the campus library a couple blocks away.

“Who were you—oh,” Megumi’s glacial hand along the small of your back steals your voice away.

Your eyes and feet follow his gentle push, shifting you to the other side of him.

“Walking on the wrong side.” He mutters, monotone. Matter-of-fact. Obviously.

He’s a gentleman. Of course he is going to walk on the traffic facing edge of the sidewalk.

Of course he didn’t feel the electric currents wire through his fingers to clench — suffocate — his heart.

No, he didn’t hear that punched out, falsetto gasp when his hand cradled your perfectly tapered waist.

Or notice how well you fit into his hand. How light you are under his touch that had none of his real strength behind it.

You’re made of alluring lines. Intoxicating sounds.

What would it take to coax a pretty melody out of your pouty lips?

His fingers?

They’re long. And smart. Cold. Remarkably patient. You’d like them.

He could make you love them.

Crave them. Need, whimper, whine, and cry out for them.

“So who was it?” You tether him to reality.

“Who was what?” Megumi counters, leading you to a private study room.

“The way you were singing earlier.”

Hairs along the back of his neck stand at attention. Blood runs Siberian cold. Megumi’s gaze on you is subzero.

“It had to be for someone.” You lower down into a seat in slow motion.

The sweetheart neckline of your sundress is mean. Your supple mounds tilt and ripple with every micro movement. Megumi has forgotten why he’s glaring at you.

“You sound too…pretty. It can’t be wasted on thin air.” You continue.

“She must be—“

“Let’s just get started, okay?” He sharply redirects the conversation.

And promptly shifts gear to low autopilot. He’ll speak when spoken to, answer questions intermittently. But his mind’s true coordinates are a galaxy away.

Megumi retreats to his shadow garden.

Watching you.

Drinking you in.

Savoring each detail on his tastebuds like dessert.

The pencil eraser leaves an indent on your bottom lip where you’ve been pressing too hard.

Megumi wants to roll your bottom lip under his teeth. Until it flushes rose and swells beneath his relentless pull.

His eyes fall to your bracelet, far too big for your dainty wrist.

He could hold both of your wrists in one hand above your head or behind your back for hours. Without breaking a sweat.

His other hand would take its time.

To stroke you. Pet you. Learn your sheet music. Then play your body like a harp until you’re a chorus of beautiful, soprano whimpers and moans. Begging and pleading so prettily, enticing him to give in.

But he won’t.

Not until you’re soft enough. A babbling, warm, ruined brook beneath his fingers.

Then he’ll take you, gorgeous.

Searing pain from his sharp swallow and nails digging into his thighs rip him down to the present.

Vision a little fuzzy. Head a revolving door of vulgar scenarios. A dull, demanding ache between his legs draws his eyes to his lap.

Fucking hell.

His jeans are uncomfortable. He’s stiff and needy. Not nearly enough strength in his pants to hold back his drunken arousal.

Not to the mention, the—

swarm of shadows growing at his feet?

Is his…innate domain materializing around him right now?

Megumi aggressively slices through the air at his hip level. Below the table, but you don’t miss his sudden stirring.

“Meg? You okay over—“

“Going to the bathroom.” He gruffs through a clenched jaw. Megumi places his forearm over his crotch before hurrying out of the room.

He can barely recognize the man in the mirror. Flushed to his ears. Volcanoes threatening eruption in his eyes. Api Biru. Pure, triple distilled, blue lava coursing through his veins.

Snap out of it, Fushiguro.

The splash of cold water does nothing for his internal heat. But his milky complexion returns to its effervescent state.

But then he turns a little too quickly to leave. And his painfully hard length drags along his fabric. It’s blinding.

A feeble moan tumbles out of his tight lips.

“Fuck.”

Megumi slams his eyes shut. He needs to readjust. But if he touches himself now, he might not be able to stop.

A slow, steadying breath fills his lungs.

“Just adjust, don’t…” His voice trails off. Icey fingers around his hot, angry base is enough to rip the carpet from beneath his feet.

“Oh, fuck.” Megumi mumbles through one quick pump up his shaft.

He shakes his head as if to tell himself enough. He rests his erection along his thigh before zipping up. Still painful, but tolerable.

A tornado obliterates any remaining resolve in Megumi’s mind on his walk back to you.

You are a dream.

Or a nightmare? A curse?

It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t care less.

Megumi would follow you. Deeper than the crypts of his 10 shadows. Into hell if it meant he could have you the way he wants you.

The way he craves you.

Because fuck the cost.

He’d pay anything.

You’re working on an elaborate concept diagram on the white board. On the tip of your toes. Lip curled under your teeth. And you are just irresistible.

So, he won’t resist.

“Meg! Took you a bit, you okay?”

Megumi is silent. Unblinking. Sauntering toward you.

“Megumi?”

You lower to the soles of your shoes. Neck craning to look at his face. Your eyes widen at his persistent silence. Rosy heat dusting your cheeks.

Pretty little doe, rooted in place by his wolfish glare.

Megumi takes the marker out of your hand and tosses it behind him in one swift motion.

“Hmm,” a tiny acknowledgment of his name. Just because it sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue.

Megumi corners you against the wall. Both of his hands casually in his pockets.

He watches you shift. Flicker your eyes in every direction. Fiddle with your thumbs.

His quiet.

His presence.

It flusters you. Well before he’s gotten the chance to run his hands along the lazy curve of your waist and hips.

“So…so blue.” You stammer. Your warm eyes metronome between his.

“They are.”

Megumi steps impossibly closer. His eyes drop to your chest. Dainty, nervous heaves. Up and down. Up and down.

“You are so,” you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze. “hard to read.”

Megumi snakes his large, graceful fingers into your nape. The temperature difference between your warmth and his cold startles you deeper into his grasp. Your head evanesces into his pull.

A beautiful, shocked gasp escapes you. Just as Megumi’s lips trace the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

His breaths collide with yours, now. Heat welling deep in his groin. His cock thunders against his thigh.

“Can you read that?” Megumi rasps. Ensuring his voice vibrates down your spine.

A new sound tumbles from your lips. Like you choked on your last swallow. How pretty. You gurgling and gagging like that.

“W-want me? Megumi wh—“

“I.” Megumi nudges his thigh between your legs. His steel pipe erection digs into your dewy, hot core. He angles his leg slightly upward, inching you on the tip of your toes.

His prima ballerina, en pointe.

“Want you.” His lips ghost against yours. Free hand cups the flesh beneath your thigh. Pads of his fingers twitching to dig in.

The two of you drink in this lock-in-key fit. Megumi revels in you. Like this. At his complete mercy.

The prodigal son, born with more power than he knows what to do with.

Ten shadows. Ten Shikigami. It’s been centuries since the last head of his bloodline had power buzzing beneath his fingertips like him.

And somehow he’s never felt more powerful than this.

With you, heaven’s most precious angel, cradled in his arms. Drowning in sinful ecstasy. He brands this freeze frame into the most permanent part of his memory.

Then, he free falls off your cliff edge.

Megumi takes your lips with unfettered greed. Hunger woven into the way his tongue traces every corner of your delectable, soft mouth. His fingers push your head deeper into him. Sucking and nibbling on your warm muscle.

You shower him with airy, choppy little pants. Moans and whines so light they crescendo to fairy dust. You can’t keep up with his bruising kiss. His other hand palms your thigh, kneading little bruises into your silky smooth skin.

Marking what’s his.

“Oh my god.”

You breathe into his mouth when he lets you up for air. Megumi’s eyes dart down to the meeting point of your sex and his muscular thigh.

Did you really think he wouldn’t notice how you’re rutting your pretty little cunt against his leg like that?

Crimson high on your cheeks. You look away when he tries to catch your fucked out gaze.

“Don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” His hand traces up to your hips. You preen into his firm grip.

“Megumi.”

“Don’t stop, pretty girl.” He forcefully moves your hips in more dramatic, languid, deep rolls against his thigh. He’s not paying any mind to the pool of his precum soaking through his pants.

You bury your head in his neck. Fingernails digging pretty crescent moons into his back. You take over the pace. Undulating against him. Shameless. In complete heat.

“You feel s-so…so good.” Your lips smear against his dampened neck. Megumi responds by circling your puffy, slick bud with his fingers.

And fuck. The slurred, broken whimper that rings in his ears.

The way you hump him even more sloppily.

He could finish from that alone.

Your hand flies to your mouth. Empty huffs spilling. Whines ascending in pitch. You are close.

“Such pretty sounds, baby.”

“Megumi…meg..I-“

“Let it out.” He grips the back of your neck. Feeling dangerously close to his own nirvana. Drunk off your precious melody.

“Sing for me.”

“F-fuck, GOD.”

You bite down on his neck. Waves of pleasure crashing into you like hurricane winds. He grips your waist steady. Feeling every involuntary twitch and jerk of your doll-like frame.

Blessing or curse?

He doesn’t know.

But he will follow you to the end of his lifetime and the next.

“God, Fushiguro. That was…” The lusty haze from your peak settles around you. The once shattered world, slowly pieces itself back together.

“No.” Megumi pulls you out of his neck. Dropping his lips to yours, so he can breathe the air directly from your lungs.

“Meg. You call me Meg.”

#jjk fanfic #jjk fanart #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fushiguro #megumi x you #megumi smut #megumi x y/n #jjk fluff #gojo smut #geto smut #jjk season 2 #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #yuta smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jjk x y/n #jjk geto #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x y/n #megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader

[angelisverba]

praise

in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny

word count: 5.5k

pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)

warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.

author's note: happy late halloween!

When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.

She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.

Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.

Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.

Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.

He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles. 

So y/n had a little crush.

A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it. 

She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her. 

In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.

Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.

But she couldn't.

Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.

She could imagine it.

He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.

And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.

So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.

With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.

A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.

She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.

But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.

She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.

***

Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.

He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.

Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.

A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.

He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.

It reminded him of one his students, y/n.

She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.

But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.

She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.

Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.

But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.

Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by. 

Not that he noticed.

Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.

Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again. 

This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.

He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.

Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.

Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.

It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.

Her hearbeat.

Calm. Steady. Alive.

It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.

He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.

He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.

She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.

Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.

Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.

He had to get her to speak.

The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.

Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”

At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.

Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.

Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.

"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.

But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.

In fact, he looked almost... mad.

Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.

Everything, including her breathing.

He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.

Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."

She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.

Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.

And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.

One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.

This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.

"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"

***

Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.

She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.

He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.

“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.

“Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.

"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.

"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.

"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.

She was wrong.

Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.

Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.

And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.

Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"

She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"

"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.

In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."

She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.

“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.

He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.

"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."

When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.

"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.

"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.

Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.

The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.

"You were a bad girl, y/n."

Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.

She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.

His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"

"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.

He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"

Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”

“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.

“I need to cum, sir. I need-” 

“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”

"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-

"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.

"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.

"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.

"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.

"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.

Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.

Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.

He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"

"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.

"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.

"I understand, Professor"

He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."

*****

happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!

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[cl-01-kestis]

Blood and Honey - Tom Riddle x Female Reader | nsfw

Summary: Your rivalry with Tom Riddle was widely known around Hogwarts, there’s no one you hate more than him. But through the mist of rage and competition, Tom finds himself tempted by a very odd scenario.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, public sex, blood kink, injury description, fingering, cunnilingus, Tom has a borderline fetish for blood consumption, (both of you are 18)

(Part 2 taglist)

If there was one single person, only one, who you could hate the rest of your brief existence, it would be Tom Riddle.

Your reasoning was endless, every interaction was poison. He made no attempt of hiding the fact he hated you either, yet neither of you tried to resolve it.

For 6 years, Tom had been the one person who always got under your skin. He had a habit of teasing your skill, even though it was near the best in each class you sat. You scored 80% and above in each exam you sat, yet he still managed to pluck out the detailed faulty of your knowledge. He was always better than you, he always had to be better than you. He made sure of it.

Sometimes you thought he was better just to grind your gears, all that studying he put in was possibly to aggravate you. You knew it gave him the mightiest pleasure to see you suffer at his hands, he would have it no other way.

Potions class today was no different. You brewed one of the most advanced potions and handed in your thesis to your professor, minding your own business and going your own way. But your chest tightened and your hands turned into fists when you heard his voice nearby, laughing wickedly with his friends who stood by the corridors. You held your books close to your chest, avoiding any eye contact with the group of brash boys.

Tom spotted you but he didn’t say anything, instead he glared at you with a sharp smirk on his pale face. Your eyes found him, but you wish they didn’t. Your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed, your pace unconsciously speeding up.

He watched you with a malicious glint in his eyes, chuckling quietly to himself as you looked away and rushed off, your cloak floating softly behind you. His friends words became a hazy murmur, his mind drifting from their conversation to thoughts of you and your pitiful demeanour. He found himself pondering your flushed face and pretty frown, knowing he caused it the majority of the time.

Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to the library, hopeful to squeeze in some studying before dinner time. He wondered if you would be there, but his soft expression moulded into a scowl when he realised how intrusive his thoughts became about you. He licked his lips and entered the library, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

-

You sat silently in the medical ward, eyes full of tears and your hands shaking from pain. You were outside the school grounds for a while with the creatures of the school greenhouses, needing to clear your head, the next minute you were tripping over a flowerpot and cutting your thigh deeply with large gravel. The head healer spent an hour plucking bits of rock from your wound, giving you supplements of pain relief to get you through the process.

Now you sat in bed with your wound open, she claimed it needed to be aired so it healed quicker with the medicine she gave you. But you were still in pain and still somewhat bleeding.

You missed dinner, to your sadness, but the healers made sure to give you some snacks and chocolate frogs to appease the hunger you felt. But you missed the roast dinner and sweet pudding you received every night, your stomach craved it.

You laid back against the soft bed, keeping your injured leg bent so it didn’t rub against the sheets or your other leg. You held a charms book in your hands, shakily flipping the page as you continued reading in the quiet of the ward. You heard the distant footsteps of the head healer, her voice whispering to other students since other patients were sleeping. You tried to block out the noise and continued reading.

Until the door to the ward opened, and in walked none other than Tom Riddle. Immediately, you hid your face in your book and sneakily grabbed the cover a few feet away, tugging it towards you to hide yourself more. You weren’t in a mood to bang heads with him, or even interact with him. The fact he was even in the same room as you made you want to chuck your charms book at him.

He was visiting Avery, you heard him ask one of the healers where he was and she hastily lead him to his bed, which was right beside yours. You cursed Merlin, grateful for the cover blocking his vision from you. Especially because your skirt was hiked up and your tights were off, your bare skin showing. You sat up in your bed, careful not to make any noise possible as you pulled up the covers and laid them over your legs. You weren’t about to be humiliated by your bully, you might as well fling yourself off the astronomy tower.

You heard the both of them bicker, but none of their words registered in your head. Tom was irritated at something, you didn’t really care. Hearing him annoyed made you smirk behind your book, knowing you never heard it often. Tom was a secluded man, he never showed an ounce of anger or irritation towards you when you insulted and constantly one upped each other. He was stone cold, but sometimes he cracked.

You heard Tom scoff at something Avery had said, but you quickly zoned out and found yourself slipping into unconsciousness, too tired to care. One of the healers came over to your bedside and buffed the pillows for you, wishing you a goodnight and making sure you were comfortable before returning to her nightly duties. This caught Tom’s attention, soon he found himself peeking around the cover shielding you. His eyes widened and he missed what Avery had said, completely focused on your sleeping state and the charms book in your hands.

“Hey, did you even listen to what I just said?” Avery frowned, fussing over his broken finger which was healed without hassle over an hour ago. He was taking up the bed when he didn’t need to, and Tom was here to drag him out. But now Tom was dwindling on the thought of why you were here, if you were hurt or recovering from an injury. He found himself lingering on you with concern, but his attention begrudgingly turned back to Avery after he continued to whine.

“Abraxus is waiting for you in the common room, don’t make him wait any longer than necessary” Tom instructed with narrow eyes, similar to a snakes.

“Aren’t you coming?” Avery raised a brow, cradling his bandaged finger.

“No, I have other matters to attend to” Tom dismissed Avery, who nodded his head and made his way to the infirmary exit.

Tom waited for Avery to leave until turning his attention back to you. You were still sleeping, the covers hiked up to your waist as you slept. Tom pulled up a chair and sat down at the corner of your bed, taking the charms book from your hands to inspect it curiously. This caused you to shuffle and peek one eye open, dread filling your heart as you realised who sat at the end of your bed.

“Hey, give that back!” You sat up, trying to snatch the book back from toms hands, but the Slytherin smirked and leaned back in his seat.

“Not until you tell me why you’re here. Let me guess, you were clumsy as always and had an accident?” He cackled, a shit eating grin on his charming face as he put his arm up while still holding your book. You were unable to reach it now.

You sat back in your bed, crossing your arms and scowling at him as he placed the book back down into his lap and opened the pages.

“I don’t have time for your shit, Tom, and for the record I am not clumsy” You frowned deeply, moving your foot to kick him square in the knee, causing another laugh to escape his pale lips.

“You obviously are, you always have been” He shot back. “I bet you broke your leg, or maybe you sprained your ankle?” He continued to toy with you until your face was red with embarrassment.

“I cut my leg okay? Just leave me alone” You looked away, suddenly finding the bedside table very interesting. Toms grin didn’t disappear, but he was curious about how your leg looked.

“That’s it? Just a small cut?”

“It’s not small, the nurse spent an hour taking out rocks and little bits of gravel from my leg” You sit up, peeking under the covers and noticing you bled on the sheets. Cursing, you lifted up the covers a tiny bit, revealing the top of your thighs to Tom who quickly fell silent and looked down at your charms book. He didn’t like you, but he wasn’t a pervert. He wanted to at least respect your privacy.

You brought your legs out from the bed, grabbing bandages from the side of your bed and unravelling them to wrap around your leg. Tom watched quietly, noticing the trickle of blood trailing down your shin after you placed your feet on the ground.

“You’re bleeding” He stated.

“Yeah I can see that, idiot” You sneered, wiping the blood with your hands instinctively and cursing as you smeared the blood further. Tom rolled his eyes and stood up, dragging his seat with him as he quickly summoned a pack of towels with his wand. You fell silent as he sat in front of you, sighing loudly as he placed the towels down on the dresser and looked down at your bleeding leg.

His eyes widened almost immediately, a pang of shock flooding his system as he watched the crimson liquid seep from your deep wound. He didn’t expect it to be this bad, the blood was all over your hands and smeared over your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess” He grumbled, grabbing the towels and grabbing your ankle so he could set it on his leg. You shoved him off and glared at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice was wary, not matching the angry glare seeping into his skin. You sounded confused, not hostile.

“I’m trying to help you” He snapped back.

“But why? I didn’t ask for your help-“

“Just shut up and give me your leg” Tom raised his voice, his eyes flickering up to yours as a warning. Your jaw snapped shut, bottom lip poking out just a bit further as you gave in and raised your leg. Tom muttered a ‘stupid girl’ and pressed the towel to your leg. You looked away and screwed your eyes shut, hissing at the stinging pain as he delicately dabbed the towel onto your wound.

“Stay still, you’re moving too much” He muttered in frustration, his grip on your ankle intensifying as he turned the towel around to catch more blood. You looked down at your hands, just as you were about to wipe them on your skirt he stopped you.

“Are you stupid? Here, let me” He grabbed your hands, his touch oddly soft yet commanding. Toms hand pressed against yours, the blood transferring onto his skin and causing his fingers to get sticky. His motions slowed, his eyes stuck on your clasped hands as the blood seeped through the cracks of his fingerprint. His eyes darkened, his throat suddenly dry and his stomach tense.

Your blood was on his hands, he realised. You started to get anxious at his silence and stillness, ready to ask what was wrong. But the boy simply stared and turned your hand over, his thumb caressing your palm. Tom gulped, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he let go of your hand and inspected his own bloodied one. Your blood started to dry on his skin, the smell of iron filling his senses. His mouth watered.

“Is everything okay?” You asked worriedly, leaning forward to your knees were touching. Tom nodded his head, his hands starting to tremble as he looked away from the blood and into your eyes. He swallowed again, his hand creeping back to hold your one as his eyes trailed to your lips. The feeling of blood between your palms was a strange sensation, you felt like you needed to wash your hands, but Toms skin felt like a dream against your own.

“Are you about to kiss me?” You whisper with a heavy breath, your heart beating erratically fast.

“If that’s what you want?” His voice sounded so soft, so vulnerable all of a sudden as his bloody hand cupped your cheek, his thumb skimming the skin of your cheek.

Without hesitation, you nodded, and Tom gently pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. They were softer than you imagined, because admittedly, you thought of kissing him before. All that pent up frustration made you think of him differently overtime, no matter how much you hated him. You can’t deny you’ve pictured yourself in this situation many times.

Tom was so delicate with you as his other hand pressed against your unharmed leg, pulling you onto his lap as he leaned back into his chair. You straddled his waist, your lips departing momentarily as your breaths mingled together, right before he pulled you back in and kissed you fiercely. He cradled your body against his, bringing one of your hands up to his face before pulling away.

Tom took one of your bloody fingers into his mouth, licking the crimson substance off your skin which shot a shrill of excitement up your spine. Toms mouth was so hot and inviting, his tongue eager. You couldn’t help but whimper quietly as he bit one of your fingers, jutting his hips up into yours as you cupped his face with your free hand, getting blood on his jaw.

You kissed once again, his tongue entering your mouth, carrying the strong taste of iron. You tasted your blood before realising you were being pushed back onto the bed. Tom looked down at your thigh which was still wet with fresh blood and his eyes glistened with excitement, he crouched down so he was face to face with your uplifted skirt and revealed panties, but he didn’t look to them at the moment.

Toms tongue caught the stains of blood from your wound and lapped it up like a man deprived from water. Your hand flew to his hair, gripping it as you gasped at his surprising ministrations. Tom didn’t go near your wound in fear of infecting it, but he didn’t shy off the blood surrounding it.

“Oh Merlin… Tom, please” You cry silently, arching your back. Tom glanced up to your panties, noticing the obvious wet patch which grew bigger as time went on. He smirked against your skin, raising his arms and hooking his fingers underneath each hem of your panties.

The both of you were aware you were in a public area, so Tom quickly grabbed another cover from the ward beside you and shielded the both of you from anyone who might’ve come in at the wrong time. You sighed out in relief before Tom was back on you, his attention now on your skirt and underwear. He resumed removing your small garments that, really, left nothing to the imagination.

“Do you want me to continue?” He looked up at you with a soft gaze, noticing the nervous hints of your expression. You nodded your head eagerly, raising your hips so he could pull off your panties easier. Tom smiled and kissed you passionately as he put your underwear in his pocket, his hands slipping under your skirt and gripping your bare hips. You tried your best to keep quiet underneath him, but he was making it near impossible.

“How much do you need me?” Tom asked, trailing his lips down your neck and whispering against your pulse. You closed your eyes, using his shoulders as support as he grazed your tummy with his slender fingers.

“More than I can admit” You flush, leaning your head back to give him further access to your neck. Tom smirked against your skin and unzipped your skirt, pulling it off in one quick motion.

“You’re too full of pride to admit how much you crave me, I know you’ve thought about it, you’ve been anticipating this moment” He laid between your legs, his elbows stopping his body from fully leaning on you.

“I’ve been wanting this too, in class I’ve found myself picturing you bent over a desk, screaming my name” His hand found your exposed pussy, causing you to let out a choked moan. You felt like your skin was on fire, feeling too hot underneath your shirt and tie.

“Touch me, please” You gasp, Tom quickly covered your mouth with his free hand and leaned back so he sat back on his knees, positioning you so your head was against the pillow.

“We can’t be too loud now, darling, you need to stay quiet for me, okay?” He soothed your whines, kissing your forehead before focusing his attention below. His eyes shadowed over with desire, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

His thumb pressed against your clit, massaging small circles against it which caused your legs to tense up. You closed your eyes and struggled against his hand, holding onto his wrist as he brought his other hand up and lathered it with spit. He inserted his finger inside you slowly, careful not to hurt you or make you uncomfortable as he leaned down and kissed your neck. You used your free hands to undo your tie and unbutton your shirt, exposing your bra to Tom’s greedy eyes. He made a pathway of bites and kisses down to your breasts, all whilst thrusting his finger inside of you. You watched as a loose curl dropped in front of his eyes, making a fairly disheveled appearance. He watched as he inserted a second finger, enamoured with the way you stretched.

You tilted your hips up and hummed against his palm, throwing your head back slightly when he started to curl those two fingers. You grabbed the wrist once more, your grip tight but not enough to distract Tom from his goal. He directed his fingers towards that special spongy place inside you, causing you to nearly curl up into a ball if it weren’t for him keeping your legs apart.

“You’re soaking for me, fuck” He cursed lowly, picking up his speed which made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You trembled against the mattress, cunt squeezing around his skilled fingers as he kept punching your g-spot.

You tapped his hand, signalling to take it off your mouth. Tom quickly removed his hand, pushing a few strands stuck to your sweaty skin away from your face. He noticed your puffy lips and glazed eyes, smiling fondly as he watched your expression contort with pleasure.

“Oh god” You whisper, reaching up to grab his shoulder.

“Say my name” He pleaded as quietly as he could, his thumb returning to your clit and circling it softly which caused another adoring reaction from you. Your grip tightened against the material of his prefect blazer, but Tom didn’t care about the crinkles you caused. He leaned down and pressed his body against yours, your mouth was just beside his ear.

“Tom- please… I need you so bad” You sobbed, voice muffled by his shoulder. Tom cradled your head as his fingers worked harder on your pussy, leading up to an almost life changing orgasm. You felt your body tense, goosebumps scattering quickly as you started to climb your high. Tom peppered kisses over your flushed cheeks and forehead, down to your jaw where he sucked a dark love bite, marking you as his.

“You gonna cum, darling? Do it, do it for me” Tom mumbled, his voice verging on a whine as he watched you unravel. You squeezed your eyes shut, body freezing completely as the feeling of sharp, hot white pleasure ripped through you. It was more than difficult trying to keep quiet, tears trailed down your temples as you suppressed a scream. Tom kept curling his fingers into you to help you ride out your orgasm, feeling a sense of pride as he watched you twist and turn with unbearable pleasure.

Your breaths were ragged, you sounded like you’d been through 10 rounds of Quidditch with no breaks. Your legs shook at either side of Riddle as he gently removed his fingers from you, coated with your slick honey. He placed his fingers in his mouth and hummed, his tongue licking up the goodness of your climax. You felt yourself become aroused once more just by watching him taste your cum, you needed him all over again.

But to both of your devastation, the infirmary doors opened and a couple of healers walked in with new patients, thankfully going to the opposite side of the ward and away from you and Tom. The Slytherin pressed a wet finger to his lips, smirking as he lifted up your skirt and bent down.

You held back the combination of a giggle and a moan as he went down for a full taste, his lips kissing your inner thighs and right above your clit.

The two of you heard the nurses converse about treatments and diagnostics, all whilst Tom slipped his tongue inside you and held both of your legs over his shoulders. You had to keep your eyes open, alert in case either of the nurses came and checked on you at the wrong time. But Tom was distracting you terribly, to the point you quivered and kept looking down at his mop of dark curly hair between your legs.

He was just as skilled with his tongue as he was with his fingers, which caused difficulty when it came to keeping silent. You threw your head back against the pillow, your fingers lacing with his hand and giving it a gentle tug as he devoured you. Tom groaned against you, hands on your hips and guiding you easier to his eager mouth.

You wanted to cry, everything felt so good. Too good. You couldn’t remember how you got here, but by Merlin you never wanted it to stop.

You already felt your second orgasm approaching, the muscles in your body tensing once more as another tear left your eye. Tom was relentless, cruel with the flicks of his tongue as he glanced up at you struggling to keep your composure.

The peak of your climax creeped up on you suddenly, making you grab the pillow underneath your head and use it as a muffler as you let out a pained groan, thankfully not loud enough for the nurses to hear. Tom suckled your clit as you fell off that beautiful drop in your stomach, hips stuttering against his jaw as he held them down and continued lapping at your arousal. You cried, eyes shut and teeth clamping on the pillow as you used every cell in your body not to scream.

Tom pulled back when he felt he was satisfied enough with your orgasm, using his fingers to catch the sticky substance near his mouth that he couldn’t quite reach with his tongue. You kept your face hidden under the pillow for a while, still too fucked from the wonderful feeling between your legs. Tom carefully slid himself away from your legs, planting soft kisses on each one before clambering off the bed and back into his own seat, right beside your head.

“Darling?” His voice was quiet, eyes glancing down at you with slight concern. He wondered if he went too far, if you couldn’t handle the torment he gave. But he saw your sly smile immediately after you removed the pillow from your red face, eyes glazed over with pure satisfaction as you looked up at him.

“You should’ve done this far before now” You chuckled softly, your hands still grasping the pillow tightly. Tom leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair off your face once more and finding himself enamoured by the sight in front of him.

For the first time, a moment of peace dispersed between you two. There was no bickering, no insults, no battling it out until the other proved them self to be better. There was blissful, adoring peace. Tom placed his hand over your one, noticing it was still shaking from earlier.

“How are you feeling? Do you need any water? Any sugar?” He asked, his eyes tracing the shape of your face whilst his thumb brushed the skin of your knuckles. Your smile grew wider, nodding your head as you gestured to the glass of water on your bedside table. Tom helped you sit up, buffing your pillows and handing the glass of water over to you. He pulled the covers over your bare legs, protecting whatever modesty you had left as he contained doting over your hair. You didn’t want to know how bad you looked right now, but you felt very spoiled with Tom’s attentive nature.

“I feel bad” You whispered.

“How come?” The Slytherin prefect asked curiously.

“You didn’t get to finish” You frown, looking at the obvious tent in his pants as he let out a brief scoff.

“Don’t think about it too much, you can repay me when you feel better” He winked, causing you to roll your eyes.

Tom made sure you looked presentable for the nurses before leaving, and it just so happened he timed it perfectly.

The head healer peeked through one of the covers shielding your privacy, asking if it was okay to come in after noticing Tom’s presence. The both of you nodded and Tom seemed to get the hint when she showed you a thick pack of bandages and more medicine.

“I think it’s best that you go back to your dorm, Mr Riddle, don’t want to be out past curfew now” The healer smiled fondly at the two of you, sensing something was going on but minding her business nonetheless.

“Of course, my apologies if I’ve outstayed my welcome” Tom stood up, but not before giving your knuckles a sweet kiss before making his way out. He bowed to the healer, then you. He wished the both of you a goodnight before vanishing into the shadows outside the covers. You immediately felt lonely without him, but the nurse seemed to dissipate your sudden separation anxiety. She sat down in the seat Tom did and asked for your leg.

“He’s a good boy that one, dear” The nurse grinned, sterilising your abrasion before wrapping it in bandages.

“Yeah… he certainly is” You chuckled.

#x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #harry potter smut #tom riddle smut #Harry potter x reader

[mncxbe]

ANNE DONT MIND ME PLS you write so good and reading these drabbles made me want to request one of my own !!

imagine professor!dazai giving u an extra lesson after class 🤭 it's 12 from the list btw <3

CHIYO MY DEAR♡ i'm so happy you requested this one. hope you like it. I made Dazai a literature professor👀♡

12 — Professor!char giving you an extra lesson after class

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: lowkey unethical, sex toys, semi-public space, creampie

"Keep reading, bella, you're halfway there."

Your professor's voice carried a hint of mockery as he soothed your thigh with a hand, pushing the silicone toy deeper inside you. You winced at the sensation, shooting Dazai a desperate glance over your shoulder.

Osamu Dazai was the new literature professor at your college– some prodigy kid who finished his PHD by the age of 25 and whose novels sold like hot cakes and now everyone was singing him praise. Frankly, you weren't too impressed by his accomplishments, but he was the only professor in the whole faculty who actually encouraged you to write something different, out of the norm; so you did anything to stay on his good side.

Even if it meant helping him around the office and fucking him from time to time. Not that you'd complain, Dazai was incredibly good looking and knew how to please a woman.

So naturally, when your professor asked you to come to his office after class you expected a quick fuck, as usual.

But the smug bastard had you bent over his desk with your panties lowered mid-thigh and a vibrator shoved up your pussy, making you read the assignments your colleagues turned in while he made snide comments on the side.

"Was that supposed to be a metaphor? 'The mist of the summer evening' what's that supposed to mean? God, I swear these texts are getting worse and worse..."

"Ngh– 'samu please" you whined, shifting your hips "Can't we just do this later?" The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, you needed him inside you, not that stupid toy.

"Sorry, bella, I have to grade this paper by 6. The kid's coming to discuss it" he mused, watching your walls clench around the toy with keen eyes. God, your pussy was divine– his pants were tightening just by looking at you.

Reaching a hand towards you, Dazai touched your folds, gathering your slick and smearing it all over the inner part of your thighs. "My, my, you're dripping, dear. Better hurry up and finish reading if you want me to fuck you properly" His deft digits found your bundle of nerves and gave it teasing flicks.

Your mind was starting to get foggy, the sentences melting into a jumble of letters as you struggled to read the last paragraph out loud. It was painfully embarrassing, the way your body jolted up as he drew slow circles on your clit with his thumb, how desperate you were to have him inside you. All the while, Dazai was toying with you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite toy.

The second you were done with your paper you let it fall on the desk next to you. "Done, I'm done." you huffed out, looking over your shoulder to see Dazai's teasing smile.

"Good job, bella. I think it's worth at least 60 points. I mean, it's a progress from the last assignment he turned in. What do you think?"

I think you should stop messing around and fuck me already– you wanted to say back but all that came out of your mouth was a breathy yes, sir. i'd say so too.

The man got up from his chair and slowly ran a hand through your hair. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his suit pants, your hips swaying in anticipation. "You're such a pretty girl" he hummed, removing the toy from your pussy with a wet pop and alligning himself at your entrance "And obedient too. I think you deserve a reward ah shiit—"

A broken whine slipped from his lips as he slammed himself inside you, the grip he had on your hips growing fiercer. Fuck, your cunt was basically sucking him in. You were so damn perfect he swore he could spend all day fucking you and it wouldn't be enough.

Your moans filled the tiny office, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air, fueling the man's need. His hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "Y-you're so tight bella think 'm gonna– fuck i'm gonna cum soon"

"Me too me too 'samu" you mewled as the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped and you came around his cock, soaking it in your juices.

It wasn't a surprise you came so fast, he'd been edging you for hours and you were so sensitive. Even now as your walls pulsed around him, Dazai's fingers found your puffy clit and your body jolted up. "W-wait 'samu you can't I just–"

"Want you to cum again with me, donna. Can you do that for me?" he huffed out and your pussy fluttered at the sound of his breathy, whiny moans, pressure building up in your core again.

When the two of you reached your high again, his hips halted flush against yours, his milky cum shooting deep inside you. The man's breath was ragged and he hissed when he slightly pulled out, watching the sticky substance form a ring at the base of his cock as it dribbled out of your hole.

Something sparked inside him at that moment and he quickly flipped you over, caging you between his arms as he leaned over your frame. Droplets of sweat clung to the tips of his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours "Can we do it again?"

"But Dazai we just–" you wanted to protest but he cut you off with a deep thrust, making you choke out a moan.

"Don't care bella you don't understand what you do to me I can't get enough of you" he sighed, slowly, almost lovingly, rocking his hips against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheeks, jaw and down the expanse of your neck, making you shudder. You'd lie if you said that his confession didn't stir something inside you too.

Before you could answer, a knock on the door snapped both of you out of the intimate moment you were sharing. "Um... professor? You said I could come by at 6 so we can discuss my paper"

𐙚prompts closed

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai smut #bungou stray dogs dazai

[professor-mist]

The lake on our property is home to the majority of our water type/water dwelling pokemon. Its a very peaceful area and many different pokemon can be found relaxing here after a long day.

The guardian of this area is none other than our lovely Milotic, Duke. As the strongest and largest Pokemon housed at the lake, he fell into the guardian position with little resistance. He tends to quite standoffish, and isn’t very fond of human contact outside of the context of feeding. However, any visitor found fishing will not be in for a warm welcome.

We were originally concerned that the introduction of Aurora the Dragonair might cause conflict (considering how territorial dragon types can be), but they have been getting along just fine.

Next up a view of the cliffs!

#pokémon #pokemon ask blog #professor mist #pokemon headcanons #milotic #dragonair #jolteon #umbreon #lotad #whiscash #poliwag #art #pokemon #duke is sadly not very fond of me #he takes to nova much better #water types really aren’t my speciality #not a fan of swimming

[gallifreyanhotfive]

What Stories Are About the Academy Era? A Guide

@zombies-sold-cheap

Context:

Stories set in the Academy Era/Otherwise Early Days are sparse to say the least (even Divided Loyalties only shows you the Academy through a dream), but you can actually piece together a pretty decent chunk of the Doctor’s early life (while it still remaining very mysterious) using the Expanded Universe. I've done a lot of infodumping in my time, so I'll do my best here by typing up my personal reference guide to this era. Anyway:

Theta Sigma and his friends would attempt to climb Mount Cadon. At the peak, you could apparently see all of time, but they never got to the top because of hallucinogenic snow. While attempting such a climb, Vansell broke his leg, and Theta Sigma fixed it with a time bubble he made from a sonic wrench and some twine. (Audio: Devil in the Mist)

Theta Sigma and Koschei traveled into the past of Gallifrey in search of Valdemar. Theta was horrified by the power that Valdemar represented, but Koschei was intrigued. (Novel: Tomb of Valdemar)

Theta Sigma time-locked his dorm room so thoroughly that even centuries after he graduated they hadn't managed to undo it. (Audio: Time in Office)

Theta Sigma also once used the food machine to get mercury for his own science projects and in doing so almost caused his professor to regenerate. (Audio: Time in Office)

At some point, Theta Sigma and Koschei traveled to the planet Machasma and used sonic agitation to get them out of trouble. (Audio: Darkness and Light)

Theta Sigma, Koschei, and three others were part of a band called the Gallifrey Academy Hot Five (see: my username). Theta Sigma played the perigosto sticks, and Koschei played the drums. (Novel: Deadly Reunion)

Millennia came from a wealthy family and was gifted in temporal engineering. She and Rallon had a "thing" for each other (wink wink) (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

Theta Sigma once made High Tutor Albrecht regenerate in an incident involving a perigosto stick and a temporal feedback loop. He was reprimanded by Borusa for this. (Novel: The Time Lord Letters)

Koschei was obsessed with the Necronomicon. (Short story: The Nameless City)

Runcible was the hall monitor at the Academy and regularly got into conflicts with the Deca because it was his job to make sure students were in bed after dark. They have mutual hatred of each other. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

Indeed, the Master would one day stab him in the back and kill him. (Television: The Deadly Assassin)

Drax built a skimmer and would sometimes use it to take Jelpax home because they lived close to each other. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

Theta Sigma attended Ushas's 94th birthday party. (Novel: The Death of Art)

Theta Sigma engineered a dangerous bacteria that rendered all multicellular life that came in contact with it comatose. This was a huge scandal on Gallifrey, and the Academy thoroughly hushed it up and had all samples destroyed. However, Ushas kept a sample and would one day use it in a scheme as the Rani. (Audio: Planet of the Rani)

Koschei taught Theta Sigma hypnosis. He'd also hypnotize others a lot because he thought it was amusing. (Novel: The Dark Path)

Mortimus once asked Ushas out but was so thoroughly rejected that he thought she wasn't interested in dating at all. Unbeknownst to him, Ushas later had a relationship with Magnus. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

Theta Sigma and Koschei were bullied by Torvic. Theta was eventually forced to kill Torvic to save Koschei's life, but when Death came to offer Theta to be their disciple, he had Koschei take his place. He forgot about this deal and lived for centuries under the impression that their places had been swapped and that it had been Koschei to kill Torvic. (Audio: Master)

Despite this, he apparently drew pictures of Torvic in his diary. (Short story: The Three Paths)

Theta Sigma was also bullied by Anzor at the Academy. Anzor would use a galvanizer to make Theta do his navigational homework. He also turned another student named Cheevah into a crystal and threw him off a bell tower. (Audio/Novel: Mission to Magnus)

Koschei was in charge of organizing the end of term parties, but the Eighth Doctor recalled that they weren’t good. (Comic: The Glorious Dead)

Theta Sigma and Koschei would sneak out of the Capitol and go drinking with the Shobogans. (Novel: The Eight Doctors)

Theta Sigma was given an avatroid named Badger as a young child to act as his friend, protector, and tutor. He apparently gives bone crushing hugs. (Novel: Lungbarrow)

Theta Sigma did not have a good relationship with most of the House of Lungbarrow. Indeed, his first memory is of Satthralope smacking him so hard he could not walk afterwards. (Audio/Novel: Cold Fusion)

Satthralope would also let the drudges attack Theta if he refused to come to dinner. Drudges are basically servants of the Houses, about two and a half meters tall, and strong enough to hold a fully grown Time Lord in one arm. (Novel: Lungbarrow)

One time, those at the House of Lungbarrow wanted Theta Sigma to return home for Otherstide and even sent Badger to collect him. Theta refused, so they contacted his professor Delox, who proceeded to expel him from her classroom after chastising him on his family in front of the entire class. After this, Theta appeared to exhibit many of the signs I associate with a nervous breakdown. Distressed, Theta came up with an idea that would prove he wasn't what they all said he was - he would go after the Toymaker. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

Millennia and Rallon were the only two to join him on this trip, the rest of the Deca thinking them mad. They stole a Type 18 TARDIS, and after making it to the Toyroom, Rallon's body was basically immediately taken over by the Toymaker. The Toymaker had Theta play a game of Capture the Flag. He turned Millennia into one of his dolls, and Theta returned to Gallifrey, the only survivor. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

Because of these events, Theta was put on trial. The only two to attend this trial to support Theta were Jelpax and Magnus. Vansell showed up but only to reveal that he had been working with the CIA, having been tasked with watching Theta. Koschei and Ushas had been off working on a research project at the time. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

While Theta, Rallon, and Millennia were gone, Mortimus ran away from Gallifrey, which made many think he had gone with them, and eventually also ended up in the Toyroom. (Novel: Divided Loyalties) Other accounts suggest Mortimus left Gallifrey later, so perhaps he returned after this trip.

Theta Sigma was on the same zero-grav hyperball team as Padrac, who he called "Paddy." (Audio: The Eleven)

Theta and Koschei's "kindergarten spat" apparently almost destroyed the planet. During this time, Theta used to call Koschei "Scabby Knees." (Audio: Blood of the Time Lords)

Theta Sigma had no friends in his very early life. Instead of creating imaginary friends, he had an imaginary enemy called Mandrake. Mandrake was actually a dead lizard he pinned to an engine part that Theta would defeat using a stick. (Audio: The Widow's Assassin)

There was a Hermit who lived behind the House of Lungbarrow on the mountain. Theta Sigma once went to him, depressed and full of despair, and the Hermit showed him hope in yellow flowers. (Television: The Time Monster)

Shimmerlings live in the time vortex, but after a storm, they were stranded on Gallifrey and dying. A very young Theta Sigma saw the Hermit throwing them into the Untempered Schism to save them. Theta asked him what was the point because he wouldn't be able to save them all before they died, and the Hermit taught him the value in saving who he could, despite not being able to save everyone. (Audio: Crossed Lines)

Theta Sigma was the Time Tot Hide And Seek Champion for 42 years in a row, which apparently drove Ushas nuts. (Comic: Weapons of Past Destruction)

When Maris - a retired CIA agent - was hired to find out where Theta Sigma, now probably the Doctor, had run off to in the TARDIS, Ushas and Koschei kidnapped her, interrogated her in an attempt to find where the Doctor had gone, and eventually almost killed her when she knew nothing (she was extracted from the situation before she could be murdered). (Short story: Celestial Intervention - A Gallifreyan Noir)

After graduating, Magnus rose quickly in Time Lord society, which Borusa felt threatened by. Borusa had the CIA manufacture evidence implicating Magnus in treason, leading to him fleeing Gallifrey and becoming a renegade. (Novel: Timewyrm: Exodus)

Koschei befriended a professor at the Academy named Salyavin because he wanted access to the restricted libraries. He wanted to find The Worshipful and Ancient Law of Gallifrey, an act which was illegal. Salyavin took the blame for this, was sent to Shada, and stole the book (since he was condemned anyway, he might as well). (Short story: The Legacy of Gallifrey)

Theta Sigma and Ruath, another student at the Academy who was obsessed with vampires, once electrified Borusa's perigosto stick. (Novel: Goth Opera)

After the Academy, Koschei attended a ritual with Theta Sigma and Susan, then likely called Arkytior, in Arcadia. Here, he gave her a toy, which was actually a communication node that he planned to use to find Theta and her if they ever left Gallifrey. (Audio: The Toy)

According to one account, Koschei led students at the Academy in a coup against Lord President Pundat the Third and tried to convince Theta Sigma to join. Pundat died of stress soon after the revolt and was replaced with Chancellor Slann. There was a second coup, but they were overheard by the authorities trying to yet again convince Theta to help. After each coup, there were bloody reprisals against the students, but Theta, who was not involved, had his memory wiped. Koschei assassinated Slann, but the students weren't ready for another go. He ended up fleeing Gallifrey. (Short story: Birth of a Renegade) There are, however, many other accounts of him fleeing Gallifrey.

Koschei and a "friend" were locked in a bathroom of a bar in the Tower by the Time Lords after a prank gone wrong. The two fought, and the friend left Koschei behind in the Tower, where he remained locked in for centuries. (Short story: Rebel Rebel)

Theta called Vansell "Nosebung" and continued to do so for centuries. (Audio: Neverland)

Theta Sigma came in fourth place in the Time Lord Academy Sprint Championship. (Comic: Space in Dimension Relative in Time)

Theta Sigma fed a snapping wart fowl to Valyes's summer project, and Valyes still holds a grudge over this. (Audio: The Next Life)

Flubbles are koala-like animals with six legs. Theta Sigma used to keep one under his bed at the Academy as an illegal pet. He almost got caught when she went into heat and started performing her mating call. (Novel: Island of Death)

Theta Sigma used to chase tafelshrews - a species almost like rodents - through the snow of Mount Cadon. (Short story: The Three Paths)

By some accounts, Theta Sigma was loomed, and by some, he had parents. In a version where he had parents, his father and Mr. Saldaamir were once working in the House and were therefore ignoring Theta. Because of this, Theta, at this point a small child, caught a cobblemouse and set it loose in the House, interrupting their plans. (Novel: Unnatural History)

A cousin of Theta's - Glospin - used to bully him quite a lot. He once claimed to find evidence in the Loom pointing to the fact that Theta did not belong in the House of Lungbarrow. If this was believed, Theta Sigma would have been executed. This caused the two to have a physical altercation. (Novel: Lungbarrow)

During this fight, Glospin got a genetic sample from Theta, allowing him to force a regeneration into a Theta lookalike. Then, Glospin murdered Quences, the Kithriarch of the House of Lungbarrow (basically the head of the family), before regenerating again, thus framing Theta for the murder. This was because Glospin wanted to become the next Kithriarch instead of Theta, but because of this, the House of Lungbarrow buried themself (the Houses are sentient, did I mention that?) for centuries. (Novel: Lungbarrow)

Despite doting on Theta (and Theta generally being his favorite), Quences had been convinced by Satthralope to disown him when he announced he didn't want to be a Lord Cardinal. (Novel: Lungbarrow)

Some of Theta's cousins include Quences, Satthralope, Glospin, Innocet, Arkhew, Owis, Salpash, Luton, Rynde, Jobiska, Maljamin, Farg, Celesia, Chovor, DeRoosifa, and Almund. (Novel: Lungbarrow)

Grandfather Paradox was also of the House of Lungbarrow from the same generation as Theta, but of course, he never actually existed. (Novel: Christmas on a Rational Planet)

Pandad VII issued a Burn Edict on Braxiatel, but Braxiatel killed his would be assassin. As punishment, Braxiatel was forced to take up the mantle of Lord Burner for some time, the personal assassin for Lord President Pandad VII. He was ordered to erase an old man and his granddaughter (wink wink) who were fleeing Gallifrey from history but refused to do so and let them go free. That very same day, Pandad died when a power relay that was in his office overloaded, but an inquiry led by Braxiatel found that this was an accident. Just an accident. Nothing shady going on here. (Audio: Disassembled)

Magnus tried to drain the Artron energy from a giant sphere from the time vortex. Theta Sigma opposed him and used the gun of a member of the Chancellery Guard to stop him from draining the energy because he had learned that the energy was alive. This set the energy free. Magnus never forgave him for this, and their friendship ended. (Comic: Flashback)

Theta Sigma had a great aunt lived in a house high in the mountains. She would sing him lullabies. The Eighth Doctor said she was "terrible." (Audio: Together in Eclectic Dreams)

Anyhow, I'm spent, so I'll post this now. Might add on some more later lmaoooo

Don't forget to check out the next part in the reblogs!

#im so sorry to those of you who see this #my love of infodumping took over and here we are #doctor who #dw #dr who #classic who #new who #big finish #big finish doctor who #big finish audios #dw eu #doctor who expanded universe #doctor who eu #the deca #theta sigma #koschei #ushas #borusa #vansell #jelpax #drax #rallon #millennia #mortimus #magnus #first doctor #braxiatel #irving braxiatel #lungbarrow #doctor who academy era

[jorgeburgos8]

The creatures of area zero seem to be very territorial, but in the face of danger, tyrunt evolved! I would like to say that it made me feel more secure but…..

#digitalart #digital drawing #digital art #digital #digital illustration #poke lab #poke #lab #pokemon #pokemon professor #professor pokemon #mist #forest #cliff #area zero #pokemon area zero #tyrantrum #slither wing #paradox pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet #paradox scarlet #paradox past

[wolken-himmel]

In which (Y/n), affected by a love potion, falls head over heels for Kalim.

He should fix the problem, but he doesn't really want to.

Request by anon.

"(Y/n), are you alright? Say 'tuna' if you can hear me!"

"Ace, if you hadn't added that bay leaf, none of this would have happened!"

"Stop blabbering my ear off, Deuce... We need to find (Y/n) right now..."

The trio's concerned gazes were all fixated on the magenta fog that encircled your table. Fortunately, everyone had been able to flee from the explosion of your kettle — everyone but you. Now, most of the students cowered on the other half of the laboratory, and the alchemy professor approached the accident sight with quick strides.

Ace crossed his fingers behind his back, praying that you were alright — for the sake of his alchemy grade, of course.

"I'm right here!" you yelled out between wheezes. Your silhouette became clearer the more the fog escaped through the open windows. To everyone's relief, you emerged without a visible scratch. "Don't worry... nothing happened. My eyes just need some time to recover from the mist..." Your fingers rubbed away at your burning eyes, but it was nothing serious.

Crewel let out a low growl. "You're lucky, Spade and Trappola. If anything had happened to (L/n), you two would be in deep trouble—"

"But nothing happened, right?" Ace said sheepishly.

Before the situation could escalate more, the door was thrown open and hit the wall loudly. All eyes glanced into the direction of the exit — even you, whose eyes now had stopped burning. Perhaps the hasty movement had been a mistake on your part — because when you raised your gaze, your eyes were no longer (E/c) but magenta. And slowly but surely, your strained face softened up into a tender smile at the sight of the visitor: Kalim Al-Asim.

"Professor Crewel, I'm so sorry that I'm late—" the second-year cried out and ran a hand through his dishevelled white hair. "I must have slept in again..."

The professor clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Al-Asim, this isn't your class. You should be in PE with Coach Vargas right now," Crewel said without any hesitancy. Huh, so this must happen regularly if the professor had already managed to memorise Kalim's schedule.

"Oh— really?" Kalim let out a sheepish chuckle and bowed apologetically. "Then I'm terribly sorry—"

Just as he was about about turn around and leave the room, you happily chimed up, "Kalim! Kalim, you're here!" As quickly as your wobbly leg allowed you to, you rushed over to his side and wrapped yourself around his arm. Your eyes shone brightly when you smiled at him. "Did you come to check up on me? Oh, you're always so kind... That's what I appreciate about you the most."

"(Y/n), nice to see you here!" Kalim exclaimed obliviously. "Do you wanna hang out later? We could study together—"

"Yes, yes, yes! Always yes."

"I'm glad you're so eager to study with me! I also love spending time with you! You're always so fun to be around, (Y/n)."

The scene caused a stir of concerned murmurs from your fellow classmates — especially the trio of culprits. As if fascinated by the strange display of public affection, none of them could take their eyes off you as you peppered Kalim's face with innocent kisses. He merely laughed along, letting you do as you pleased.

Ace shook his head in disgust. "Something's strange about the prefect's behaviour."

"Was it your potion?" Crewel asked as soon as he had separated the two lovebirds.

"N-No! You're so funny, professor..." Ace said and laughed the whole situation off. "As if we idiots would have been able to brew a highly complicated love potion or anything like that!"

Deuce merely nodded along. "Y-Yes, that's right!"

Still, your three friends eyed you in concern when, after class had ended, you immediately stormed off into the direction of the Scarabia dorm.

°

°

°

"Alright, something is clearly wrong with (Y/n). Whatever it is, you need to fix it, Kalim."

Jamil hadn't been able to take it anymore — the way you clung to Kalim like a lifeline and always laughed so dumbly whenever he made a bad joke. He had promised himself to not question your strange behaviour because it seemed to make Kalim happy, but enough was enough. If he had to listen to you rambling about his dorm leader's beautiful and stunning ruby eyes again, he was sure he would throw himself to the snakes.

Currently, Kalim and you were lounging on Scarabia's balcony, playing a round of mancala. Well, it was obvious that you were letting Kalim win — whether you wanted to see him smile again or were just too distracted, no one knew.

"Relax, Jamil! The prefect is just in a good mood today!" The dorm leader let out a proud gasp when he won another round against you. So taken by happiness, he jumped to his feet and lifted you up by the waist. "Isn't that right, (Y/n)?" Your laughter was music to his ears when he spun you around in circles.

When he finally set you down, you fell into his arms and let out a tender sigh. "My mood is always sky-high when I'm with you, beloved."

Jamil buried his face in his hands, especially when his dorm leader continued to ignore him. "The prefect just called you 'beloved.' That's enough reason for me to worry," he grumbled under his breath.

An offended gasp escaped your lips at that remark. "Kalim, don't listen to Jamil! He's just a hater, so just ignore him," you huffed and wrapped your arms around your beloved's neck dramatically. Then, you scrunched up your nose at Jamil and shooed him away. "Nobody understands our love!"

Kalim continued laughing softly when you buried your face in his shoulder. "If you say so, (Y/n)— oh, I didn't know you were such a cuddler!"

Upon being ignored, Jamil stomped away in frustration.

A sly smile appeared on your lips when you pulled away to face him properly. Your magenta eyes flashed happily when you extended a hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into the gesture and closed his eyes. Now that the intruder was gone, your face softened into an expression of genuine adoration. "I love you, Kalim," you breathed out mindlessly.

His eyes snapped open in surprise, though that surprise quickly turned into delight. "Really? You do?" he asked in disbelief. When you nodded eagerly, he let out a joyous gasp. "We should get married, then! That would be like... an eternal sleepover!"

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, you were stopped by the appearance of three figures in the entrance of the balcony. You furrowed your eyebrows in dismay when Ace, Deuce, and Grim stormed over to you, each with a suspicious bucket of water in their hands.

"Woah, hold your horses!" Grim yelled and narrowed his eyes. "My henchhuman ain't getting married just yet."

The tension in the air was non-existent to Kalim, who merely laughed their worried expressions off. Instead, he continued to hold you gently, an excited smile on his lips. "Oh! You three came just in time," the dorm leader chimed dreamily. "Ace and Deuce, you can be the bridesmaids. And Grim, you can be the flower girl!"

A collective choke of disgust went through the round of first-years.

Your grip on your beloved was tight, like that of a boa. The furious glare you shot your friends caused them to step back in fear. "First Jamil and now you three!" Your gaze softened up when you grabbed Kalim by his shoulders and shook him back and forth desperately. "Kalim, we're such star-crossed lovers... The universe doesn't want us to be together, but that won't stop us, will it? Promise me we'll always stay together. I could never live without you."

Kalim started laughing lightly, flattered at your intense words. "Oh (Y/n)... You're adorable..."

"You do know that you're under the influence of a love potion, (Y/n)?" Ace asked with a quirked eyebrow. "None of this is real."

"...Really?" Kalim asked in surprise. His innocent expression fell in disappointment when he gazed into your cloudy magenta eyes.

Deuce rolled his eyes. "You could have been nicer about this, Ace."

"Is what they're saying true, (Y/n)?"

"No! Don't listen to those liars!"

So caught up in convincing your beloved of the realness of your feelings for him, you didn't notice when Ace yelled, "Now, Grim!"

"Here goes nothing!" At his signal, the cat lurched forward and threw the contents of his bucket at Kalim and you.

A loud scream escaped your lips, and you jerked back in shock when the frigid water came into contact with your skin. The shock somehow allowed your foggy mind to finally clear up. Your friend's sighed in relief when you opened your (E/c) eyes — no more magenta.

Your face was still contorted in confusion. "What... What happened? Why am I soaking wet?" Then, your gaze snapped over to your friends and the buckets in their hands. A low growl escaped your lips as you threw yourself at them. "Ace, Deuce— and Grim. Of course it was you who threw a bucket of water at me. Wait till I get you... You're dead..."

"Glad you're back to your normal self!" Ace teased while dodging your attack easily.

Eventually, a small water fight broke out between the four of you. With the need for revenge, you wrought the buckets of water out of their hands and let them taste their own medicine.

Somehow, all seemed forgotten when even Kalim joined in, throwing beams of water at you with his unique magic. He seemed to be having the time of his life when he finally exclaimed, "Oh, you four are always so much fun to be around!"

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #kalim al asim #twst kalim #twst kalim al asim #twst kalim x reader #twisted wonderland kalim #kalim al asim x reader #gender neutral reader

[heistalto]

HI! I LOVE UR WORK SO SO MUCH!! can I ask for a Mattheo Riddle x fem! reader and they’re best friends but they’ve been in love forever but haven’t admitted it and it’s a slowburn and whenever the reader picks her hangnails bc she needs to fidget he always holds her hands and she gets really really overwhelmed on the first week back to Hogwarts and is really stressed and helps her calm down and handle her feelings and anxiety?

comfort crowd

auth. note: heyyy lovely, thank you for the request, i really hope i did it justice lmaoooo. sorry for that it took so long i had most of it written on my computer then it crashed and deleted literally everything so i had to recover and reflect on my actions 🌝. also i finished writing this at 5am and i have to wake up for work at 8 lets gooo

pairing: best friend!mattheo x fem!reader

summary: after the chaos of hogwarts at the beginning of your seventh year, the stress gets to you, but there’s always someone to soften the blow.

warnings: nothing really, smoking i guess.

┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

the hogwarts express is chugging on continuously, misting an opaque fog into atmosphere of the england countryside, much like the mellowness of the interior. every seat taken with students yet no dialouge shared and the bustling and laughing about future classes, professors and chocolate frogs a thing of the past. your head is lightly rested on the window, body pressed into the corner comfortingly and hands extended forward onto the table tightly. they’re cold. and mattheo’s hand, whom is sat in front of you, seperates them, putting his body in your presence and sharing his heat with you. simply because he wants to. his pointer finger moves towards the condensed glass, painting a small stick figure with a smiling face, and a flower next to it-which petals are already dripping downwards onto the damp surface. your glance moves from the glass and onto him, a hopeful expression on his face and lips spreading into a small, warm smile. “we’ll be fine.” he reassures quietly, only a quiet mumble so nobody else at the table hears, pansy humming peacefully asleep next to you and theo staring deep in thought somewhere, because it’s only for you. “i hope so.” your words are doubtful and you take in mattheo’s appearance. his dishevelled curling hair softly planting on his forehead, it slightly grew out over the summer, wearing a white long-sleeved top and the leather jacket you bought for him last winter in a small charity shop, thinking of him instantly-light purple hues highlighted under his eyes.

after professor snape was appointed headmaster, and the death of dumbledore a melancholiness has weighed upon the halls of hogwarts. students walking silently up the stairs and mattheo following behind you closely, your suitcase in one hand and his own in the other after insisting to take it-palm patting the top of your head endearingly while you sulk, “i don’t need your help.” he smiles. “i know you don’t.”

he waits patiently as you click open the door to your dorm, glancing at the strand of hair that you have tucked behind your ears, revealing your small star-shaped earrings and noticing the brownish lip gloss you wear every autumn, he’s missed you over summer. the kind of missing that is felt in the back of the stomach all the way down to your spine while doing everyday tasks, because it all reminds him of you. both suitcases thump loudly onto the wood panels when mattheo lets them go, and he slips his jacket off, throwing it limply onto the neatly made bed. he spins on the chair in the middle of your room, gliding his fingers across the random collection of trinkets on your desk, mostly random objects that hold dear memories for you. like an empty bottle of beer from the time all your friends got so drunk in the common room then got busted by mcgonagall in her red night gown with candle in hand, and had to run down the halls in the pitch black to escape. holding on tightly to mattheo’s shirt sleeve to keep up as all of you try to squeeze into a broom closet. or a random rock from a trip to the beach that mattheo had gifted to you after seeing you read a book about crystals, “i swear it has healing properties,” he tried to convince you, pressing it up against your forehead while you hold back a laugh, “do you feel it?” “no.”

“we’re meeting for breakfast right?” you ask quietly as his body darkens with shadow the further he walks down the hall, but his head still turns back to you, “of course. goodnight.” he reassures with a nod and you’re left to fall back onto your bed with a long sigh. with his presence gone the silence is too loud and you kick the black converse off your feet, bringing your legs up to your chest. your hand reaches down to a rough surface underneath your frame, pulling out mattheo’s jacket. he forgot it. with a small exhale in breath your hands burrow into the fabric lining inside it, spreading it out in front of your face and lips turning up into a smile. you could go out right now and chase mattheo to give it back to him, you can feel the box of cigarettes left in the front pocket, yet you still droop it over your torso, tucking it under your own arms and inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. and somehow the warmth of mattheo’s body that not long ago filled it brings more comfort than the cushioned duvet beneath you, lulling you to sleep.

it doesn’t take long for the chattering at the long breakfast tables to return, pansy gossiping absent-mindedly and theodore shovelling granola into his mouth with a disdained look, dishes spread grandly everywhere but your plate remains empty. for no specific reason other than your eyes studying on a point on the back wall, allowing your own yarn of thoughts to unwind and your shoulders to slump further down-how are you supposed to act normal? wake up to the ringing sound of your alarm clock that’s on your nightstand, eat breakfast with your friends, go to lessons, study and then go to sleep to repeat it all when everyone is constantly under threat. snape unfairly ruling the school and the potential of death eaters crashing through the doors always looming and you’re supposed to just act normal? like you’re happy to be here when your survival is not guaranteed…mattheo’s hand pleasantly slips into yours, his glimmering eyes when you turn to him a grasping hand into your brain to relieve the anxiety. your fingers had been picking at a hang nail heedlessly, and his thumb smoothes over the blood that’s pooling at the edge of your finger from underneath the table. he’s usually the one coming to your dorm late in the night, bloodied nose and a bruised face after a fight with a pleading expression and he would be in your bathroom every time without a doubt. you would scold him harshly while tenderly pressing a wipe onto his face, moving the damp hair from his forehead with a soft swipe and he would stay silent-looking up solemnly at your concentrated expression. but ever since you’ve developed the habit of picking at your hangnails he’s taken it upon himself to grab your hand whenever he notices, always privately so others don’t see, as a small act to retaliate the care you endlessly provide for him. “eat.” he drones, picking up a piece of french toast loosely from his plate and placing it into yours. his body shuffles a little closer to yours for whatever reason, his shoulder connecting with yours warmly and you roll your eyes, “i was about to” you huff back to him, nudging your arm into his side and he tilts his head with a laugh, his hair grazing against your ear.

hours pass by hazily when you are staring at a textbook, tuning out the long talking of umbridge’s grating voice and mattheo’s studying eyes trying to get your attention, whispering your name lowly just so you can turn to see his smile from across the room. and after holding your tongue for hours you find yourself walking up the stairs to the astronomy tower for a break away from everything, sneaking out of your dorm in a pair of pyjamas and eyes already glossing with tears. the door creaks open and the sharp wind stings your cheeks. a familiar silhouette is leaned against the edge, smoke leaving a trail around him when he turns around. he says your name immediately, throwing the cigarette over the edge and taking a few steps towards you with brows furrowing upwards. you should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to be alone here, it’s been mattheo’s spot after second year when he claimed it his. but maybe in some way you yearned for him to be there like he always his, smoking, and approach you with a concerned look, placing his hands at your sides and asking you, “what’s wrong?” the words are stuck in your throat and the way his eyes widen at you, lowering himself to level his head with yours sends a tear rolling down your cheek. he whispers your name again. “i’m scared mattheo…” you admit quietly, “i’m always scared that he’s going to come and hurt us” your voice cracks and your breath hitches as mattheo’s grip tightens around your torso. his eyes glance away, chest becoming heavy in guilt. he knows he can’t do anything about it, and with voldemort being his father he can’t help but feel responsible for whatever reason. his helplessness warrants him to pull you into his body, wrapping both of his arms around your body so tightly he struggles to breathe himself, the blood flowing through his body expelling a heat he once again shares with you and only you. your face is pressed up against his chest where you sob into his shirt and his palm places at the back of your head softly, stroking your hair and pushing you closer into him. “i promise i won’t let anything happen to you” he reassures you, “i would die before you get hurt” he whispers into the thick air. he brings his head down to rest it in the crook of your neck, the lanterns hung on the wood pillars dimly illuminating the image of him silently curling around your frame with an endeaarance. he lifts his head hesitantly, bringing his face close to yours and planting a small kiss on your cheek.

you take a step away, straightening your back and furrowing your brows at him while his own expression drops, darting his eyes away from yours wearily. “im sorry.” he mumbles immediately and you continue to search for an answer in his demeanour. puzzled, you aren’t sure where this is coming from and why you fight the urge to ask him to do it again. a small murmur of his name escapes your mouth, moving your face closer to his again and tilting your head upwards to connect your lips for the second time, slowly moving to feel the ridges of them and the softness in the way he moves his jaw forwards to encapsulate your presence. you hum lowly, left hand driving up to cup his cheek while his own takes your right, closing in around it and dulcifying around your cuticles at your fidgeting wounds. the tears that roll down your face slip into the kiss and he tastes the saltiness, pulling away with regret and exhaling a high breath. “i don’t want to kiss you like this”

he runs a hand through his hair in stress, he hopes that you aren’t doing it just to make yourself feel better and that the crumbling of a seven year friendship around you isn’t just because he let a stupid impulse takeover. honestly it feels like he had just taken advantage of you, letting you open up to him at your most vulnerable and turning it into something lewd. “how do you want to kiss me?” your voice is nasally from the lump in your throat, and you swallow harshly. mattheo’s eyebrow twitches up momentarily, turning away from you. “i want to kiss you when you’re happy,” he turns back to you to hold eye contact, “after we win a quidditch game and you run down from the stands, under a mistletoe…anything other than this” he puts out, breath quickening and he steps towards you desperately. all the warmth he has shared with you over the years burns within you, journeying up to your face as your eyes flicker all over his face. “i love you” he expresses, and his eyes widen as if he doesn’t realise what he just said. you exhale a quick breath, “i lo-” you want to leap forward and kiss him again, wrap your hands around his neck and let him know how much you really mean it.

“no. not like that” his fists ball up tightly, “i love you. not in a friend way.” his knuckles are turning white from how hard hes clasping around himself, face softening when meeting with your open mouth, wide eyes and glistening pupils that are dilated so purely he could look at his own face.

“i love you too mattheo, not in a friend way.” it spills out of you, like the smashing of a piggy bank after years of building it up. “you do?”

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