#he could have whatever whenever wherever

[hiddlelecki]

We got a high quality version, people!

[sexbot300]

18+, minors dni! (being a slut for nanami bc honestly who isn’t)

authors note: hello! this is my first-ever post, i hope you guys enjoy it! (I literally have no idea how layouts work yet, bear with me)

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sugardaddy!nanami who scolds you whenever you feel as if you’re “doing too much,” with all the lavish gifts he gives you. nothing is too much for his angel.

sugardaddy!nanami that asks which jewelry set you like best. emerald or ruby? ah. how about both?

sugardaddy!nanami who you thought would be a joyless, serious man as people portray him. they’re not lying, he really is serious, to people that aren’t you. you’ll witness a soft side of him that only shows the most gentle of smiles.

sugardaddy!nanami who gladly scoops you up bridal style in his arms, walking while you burry your head into his chest.

sugardaddy!nanami who unpacks the gifts he gets you on the countertop after a business trip. “kento, baby, you shouldn’t have.” you play with the polyester ribbon while he simply leans back on the fridge opening up a beverage. “I couldn’t help but have the prettiest woman in the world waiting for me at home. it would be embarrassing of me to show up empty-handed.”

sugardaddy!nanami who for the first few times that you went out with him, meticulously kept track of the things you called “cute” and noted wherever your eyes wandered for a minute too long. the next morning you woke up with everything you ogled your eyes at decorating your room. attached is a note that read, “please forgive me, sweetheart, I didn’t know which you liked best. p.s. my sincerest apologies again, I let my own thoughts get carried away. be good for me and wear this tonight.” your fingers gingerly held onto the note, until your eyes fell on two things you don’t remember looking at when you went out shopping. a beautiful silk gown and an expensive lingerie set.

sugardaddy!nanami who will gladly kneel to strap your heel, placing a kiss on your ankle, after trailing his hand up and down your shin.

sugardaddy!nanami who sends you a monthly allowance for your hair, nails, skincare, and whatever you desire.

sugardaddy!nanami who thinks indulging in materialistic things is futile, but he wants to see you decorated in every fine piece of fabric, clothing, and accessories.

sugardaddy!nanami who acts as if he’s unbothered by you curling up on his lap while he types away on his work computer. you couldn’t even tell how much he adores every second of this as he idly types away. he loves to have you pushed up on him all the time, the minute you slightly move? a strong hand is placed on your thigh or waist to prevent you from leaving.

sugardaddy!nanami who’s only condition is to continue this dynamic until you’re unhappy or want nothing to do with it. (you literally want to marry this man but okay).

sugardaddy!nanami who has a saturday night ritual with you where you buy the most extravagant of desserts and feed it to each other. oh yeah, you have to be sitting on his lap the entire time while you both feed each other from the same fork.

sugardaddy!nanami who places his nose on the nape of your neck while you’re seated on him as he sharply breathes in your scent. “as much as I enjoy eating sweets with you,” he said in a whisper, “they could never mimic your taste.”

sugardaddy!nanami who started off paying your rent, bills, and utilities which he felt mentally, secretly disgruntled by. not because he’s paying (duh) or he has to take care of you, it’s just the fact you haven’t moved in with him yet.

sugardaddy!nanami who considers you under his care and deems your wellbeing as his responsibility. you’re hurt? point to where. your body is sore? lay back down while he massages you. you’re hungry? food is being sent over and here’s money for grocery shopping. you’re upset? he kneels down in front of you as he attentively listens to your sobs.

sugardaddy!nanami who supports your hobbies. he’ll drop off little things that he knows have to do with your interests and only says, “you like this don’t you?” you name drop pilates, cooking, art, knitting, whatever it is, he signs you up for the nearest classes.

sugardaddy!nanami who actually notices if you did something different with your hair, if you wore a new shade of lip gloss. little things.

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sugardaddy!nanami who places the most tender of kisses onto your forehead like he didn’t wreck your shit a second prior. “such a good girl… i’m so so proud. taking my cock in so well.”

sugardaddy!nanami that plays with your body in subtle ways. hands? his big, veiny fingers are stroking yours gently. thighs? constantly getting gripped. your waist? a strong arm wrapped around it. your cheek? a thumb stroking it. shoulders? relieving tension from it. collarbone? rearranging your necklace so it lays properly. guts? fucked out of place. makeup? smeared all across his luxurious bedsheets. lips? blown out from sucking his monster cock and making out.

sugardaddy!nanami who rents out an entire summer beach house with a glorious view of the ocean. partially because he likes the privacy of you two alone, surrounded by nature, and romantic sunset dinners. also because he wants to watch you ride him while he leans back on a beach chair without disturbing the public. (nobody is allowed to see what’s his).

sugardaddy!nanami who actually pounded you into another dimension, your mind still in a haze while he carries you to the running bath. “stay with me princess, i need to clean you up.”

sugardaddy!nanami who makes sure you finish several times before he does. oh poor baby, you’re out of breath? would you like some water? we’re not finished yet. poor nanami didn’t get to cum once, and you so badly want him to use your body to do so.

sugardaddy!nanami who buys you a personal collection of sex toys to play with when he’s not there. he personally studies the way your body twitches and convulses with certain toys, he needs to know how to please his princess. sometimes he chuckles to himself because he knows deep down, nothing– no one, can please you the way he does.

sugardaddy!nanami who sees you stressed or crying over school and work and quickly replaces those tears with ones of joy.

sugardaddy!nanami who will have you folded like a damn lawn chair and only whisper sweet nothings while drilling into you.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a high sex drive but hides it in the beginning like the gentleman he is, making sure you feel comfortable and safe.

sugardaddy!nanami who gives you the car you’ve been wanting forever. you ride the car for a bit with him ecstatic, kissing him over and over, giggling. you both quickly found a new way to celebrate. you’re pinned down over the glove compartment, one large hand gripping both of yours as they’re pinned to your back, and the sounds of skin slapping with your loud moans mix in the air. “ke-n-toooo~ I-I don’t want to ge- uh! It m-messy in h-ere…” “don’t worry darling, I-” a low grunt comes out, “i always cum inside dont I?” he quickens up the pace only to have you screaming like a whore. “t-that’s it. just take it. It feels good, I know,” he mercilessly pounds into you, kissing your temple, “just come undone on me, that’s it. make me proud.”

sugardaddy!nanami who texts you to quickly come to the office and sends you a cab for an urgent “visit.” why? he’s stressed and his favorite method to cool down is your throat expanding around his girthy dick. he'll grip the strands of your hair while cooing at you, "i know angel, i know. but you look so beautiful right now, don't stop."

sugardaddy!nanami who groans from the stressors of his job, turning his attention to you while he pushes himself back on his chair. he looks down on his bulge before sighing and tugging his tie down left and right. “go ahead. come suck me off, i need it and I know you want it too.”

sugardaddy!nanami who does the whole pillow underneath, hand pressed on lower abdomen, with a vibrator wand abusing your clit.

sugardaddy!nanami who has a diet that consists of devouring your pussy on a regular basis. “b-babe… i- ah! s-slow down,” as you elicit a loud dirty moan that fills the room, “pleaaaase.” if only you knew he takes more pleasure out of this than you and you’re the one gripping his hair to the point of leaving his scalp red. he further pushes his nose into you, mumbling, “beg all you want, I’m not done.”

sugardaddy!nanami who is a gentleman, really. who will kill anything within 5 meters if it remotely threatens you. but he can’t help but admire the way your little cunt can’t fully take it the first few times together.

sugardaddy!nanami who never thought much of daddy kinks, but when he hears “daddy” slip out of your precious mouth, his heels dig deeper into the mattress, his massive body weight shifts crushing you, angling his dick in an almost sinful way while pressing you deeper into a mating press. “say it again.”

sugardaddy!nanami who watches you squirm with a vibrator jammed to your clit and his tongue lapping up and down your cunt like any separation from his tongue and your pussy will cause his death. “k-kento s-stop this feeli- ah! I th- oh god! I think I need to pee!” he can’t help but chuckle in his head. his baby never squirted before until now.

sugardaddy!nanami who secretly wants to get you knocked up. man loves fucking his cum into you. he has such a big breeding kink that you catch on.

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[gilverrwrites]

Random Jason Todd headcanons that I think about too much. Heavy on bookworm!Jason cause I love bookworm!Jason.

Calls you his backpack, when he gives you a ride on the back of his bike.

Lets you personalise his spare helmet, and does not care when his siblings/other passangers complain about having to wear whatever you've created with stickers and gemstones, or whatever you're into.

If there are two seats available, he’ll sit in one then put his feet up in the other, or otherwise occupy the second seat so you’re forced to sit in his lap. He doesn’t care how much you weigh; he just wants you as close as possible, wants to feel you against him, put his hands on you.

Even if they’re not his kind of book, he’ll still read and annotate your favourites.

He doesn’t really have guilty pleasures. He’ll happily binge watch 90s chick-flics, or barbie films without shame, if that’s what you’re into.

Buys you pill dispensers for your meds/vitamins/whatevers, and leaves you little reminders to take them along with other things like – ‘don’t forget to eat some protein today x’ or ‘if you’re gonna rot in front of the TV all day, OPEN A WINDOW ♡’

Will respond to your texts with the most out of pocket stuff that knocks you off your feet, some fun, some romantic, often book quotes.

23:58: Jay, when are you coming home. I miss kisses xx 00:04: Soon, you should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how. Xx

02:03: You should be asleep, but in case you’re not, sleep well babe x 06:15: Good morning my heart, my life, my one and only thought x

17:45: What do you want to eat tonight? Xx 17:58: You xx 18:00: You can’t eat me, I’m not a substantial meal! x 18:06: Don’t talk bad about yourself like that xx 18:06: I ate you last night, I would eat you every night if I could xx 18:09: Your choices are pasta or take out x 18:16: 😔 18:18: Fine, you can eat me, but you have to have real food first x 18:18: I’ll pick up thai food on the way xx

Buys you gas station flowers, or candies, or books by your favourite authors, whenever he sees them, wherever he is, just cause they make him think of you.

Likes it when you massage his muscles, when you gently ghost your fingertips over his scars.

Loves it when you run your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails against his scalp and behind his ears.

When you pull his hair, oh boy. Pull his hair.

You’re hot when you’re angry. Not that he would ever intentionally try to wind you up.

You’re hot when you’re bossy too.

Complains when you steal his t-shirts and hoodies, but if he sees you deciding between one of his jackets and one of your own, and you don’t pick his, he’ll get mad about it.

You're one of very few people he lets wear the brown jacket, because he couldn't say no to you if he tried.

[lnfours]

* ✰. — birds of a feather | l.n

summary: i’ll love you til the day that i die.

warnings: the result of the new billie eilish album being on repeat and me having this song stuck in my head, so this was born. fluff, fluff and more fluff bc i said so. slowly getting my creative juices back, so bear with me.

masterlist | soundtrack

you hadn’t been looking for anything when you had met lando. a freshly graduated student who finally had time to find interest in their personal life, rather then spend their time consumed with textbooks in front of them, trying to navigate your way through the chaotic mess of life.

but the moment the curly haired brit bumped into you in the paddock, sending your notes and fresh cup of coffee all over you and the ground, you were doomed. falling head first into the comforting chaos that was lando norris.

and you thanked your stars every morning when you woke up that you had been running late that day, or else you would’ve never met the sleeping boy next to you. wouldn’t have ever gotten the chance to get to know the sought after driver with a big heart and who loves with his whole soul.

you smiled to yourself, sitting in the bed and taking in the way he slept peacefully, not aware how pretty he looked in the morning sun as it peaked in through your blinds. his cheek pressed against the pillow, his lips slightly parted as he slept.

you couldn’t help but reach out and brush the stray curl away from his face, smiling softly as he stirred in his sleep at your touch. your silent way to keep going, your nails scratching at his scalp gently. a soft hum came from him, followed by the gorgeous sight of his green eyes shining up at you. his eyes fully adjusting to the brightness as he squinted, his hand reaching out to yours.

“c’mere,”

his voice was hoarse and sleep coated, but it never failed to send shivers down your spine. you scooted closer, letting him pull you into his side. your face nuzzled in his bare shoulder, his head laying on top of yours.

“we need to be up soon,” you said, poking his ribs gently, “your family’s coming to see the new house and have dinner, remember?”

he didn’t, actually. and if it wasn’t for you, he’d be certain he’d miss all of his meetings, call times, and hell, even sometimes the start of his races. thankfully, you were never far from him on the pitlane. the perks of working with sky, who he should really thank. he’d make a mental note to do it next race. right now, he was going to enjoy the peaceful month he got to spend with you. uninterrupted peace, free time. where you got to whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted.

he groaned, nuzzling his face into your hair. you laughed softly, “lando,”

“i like when you say my name,” he mumbled, “say it again.”

you chuckled, and in your best flirty tone you could muster up in the moment, you did, “lando,”

he pressed a soft kiss to the skin of your neck, right where your neck and collarbone met. his favorite spot to kiss whenever he teased you because he knew you were ticklish.

and as if on queue, you giggled, shoving his head from your neck, “stop it,”

“just five more minutes,” he pleaded, “with my girl, in our bed, that’s all i ask.”

you sighed, “fine, but not one second longer.”

he smiled, knowing he could always get you to fold. you hated to admit it, but you’d always cave for him. do whatever he wanted. he had you wrapped around his finger and you had him wrapped around yours. smitten for each other, young in love, whatever you wanted to call it, you were it.

“how’d you sleep?” you asked, finger tips tracing the lines in your mind that you drew with your fingers every morning. connecting the moles on his skin, from his shoulders to his chest and down to his sides. your own little routine you had incorporated, a habit you picked up after the first night you spent together a year and a half ago.

“good until you woke me up.”

“you love when i wake you up.”

“you’re right,” he mumbled, “getting to see that pretty face every morning is the highlight of my day.”

you chuckled, leaning up on your elbow, reaching around and grabbing his cheek into your hand. he smiled softly as you leaned down, pressing your lips to his.

he pulled away, a smile on his lips as they brushed against yours, “and your morning kisses, i love waking up to your lips on mine, or on my-“

you shook your head, laughing and covering his face with your pillow before pulling yourself out from the covers, “alright, time to get up!”

“that wasn’t five minutes!” he gasped, tossing your pillow your way softly, teasingly. you laughed, walking into the connected bathroom, calling back to him.

“long enough! you killed the romantic mood,”

“i’m only speaking my truth, baby,” he said, footsteps joining you in the bathroom, watching him lean against the doorway out of the corner of your eye, “is a man not allowed to speak his truth?”

you popped the toothbrush in your mouth, sending him a glare. he laughed, pressing a kiss to your head before grabbing his own toothbrush from his side of the sink. he joined you in brushing your teeth, wrapping an arm around your waist. you smiled softly, trying to ignore how good he looked. sweatpants loosely hanging around his waist, bare chest on full display, curls wild and in serious need of taming.

you two looked good together, and even though he wasn’t necessarily considered ‘tall’ he still stood a few inches above you. his green eyes met yours in the mirror, and he knew you were subtly checking him out. he sent you a wink and you rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finished brushing your teeth.

he finished shortly after you, watching you as you rummaged around in your drawer. you pulled out the skincare he had seen you put on every morning and night, and even has put on for you after nights where you’ve had one too many vodka redbulls.

he leaned against the counter, watching you in the mirror as you rubbed the product into your skin, “can i have some?”

you giggled, moving to stand between his legs. you squeezed a little bit of the moisturizer onto your fingers, rubbing into his face. he grinned softly at your gentle touch, “that smells good.”

you nodded, “and it has sunscreen in it, it’s good for you.”

he motioned towards your drawer, “do you have any lip balm?”

you hummed, putting the tube back before grabbing the lip balm. you went to hand it to him but he raised an eyebrow at you. you sighed with a laugh, shaking your head.

“gimme,” you said, grabbing his chin and swiping the lip balm against his pursed lips. you couldn’t help but giggle again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips when you were done, “there.”

he rubbed his lips together and hummed, “hmm, is that coconut?”

you nodded, “like it?”

he nodded, pulling you in closer by your waist, “love it.”

you grabbed his wrist, checking the time on his watch, “they’ll be here in an hour.”

“so what i’m hearing is-“

“no,” you shoved his shoulder with another laugh, “what im saying is that i need to run to the store and get flowers for the vase on the table.”

“who needs flowers,” he said, pressing a kiss to your chest, “when i could have you back in my bed, all to myself for a little while longer until i have to share you for the rest of the day.”

you ran a hand through his hair, his eyes looking up to meet yours, “as tempting as it sounds, i really do have to run to the store. plus, i have to get some stuff for dinner.”

he sighed dramatically, “okay,”

you walked into the closet, rummaging through his side and stealing one of his hoodies and fishing out a pair of sweatpants. a quick outfit to run a few last minute errands.

he had found his way to the kitchen, standing at the coffee pot. you pinched his side, kissing his shoulder. he turned his head and smiled, leaning down and kissing your head, “need anything while i’m out?”

“mm,” he hummed, “breakfast? i don’t feel like cooking.”

you laughed, “me either. i’ll pick up something.”

he nodded, smiling playfully, “i guess you can take my car.”

“oh i was going to,” you said, grabbing his key off the hook, “even without your permission.”

“rude!”

you laughed, blowing him a kiss, “i’ll be back. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

your trip to the store was quick, making it back within a half an hour, arms full of things as you carried everything inside, closing the door with your foot. you set everything on the counter, hanging the keys back on the hook.

“i’m back!”

“i’m in the bedroom!” his voice called back to you. you made your way down the hallway and into the bedroom, smiling as he held up two shirts in the mirror.

“which looks better?” he asked, holding both up against the pair of plaid pants he had picked out. you hummed, standing behind him and watching his reflection. his hair being perfectly styled and his cologne filling the room telling you he had been getting ready while you were gone.

you pointed to the white shirt, “that one.”

“you think?”

you nodded, watching him take it off the hanger and slipping it over his shoulders. you stepped in front of him, buttoning the buttons. purposefully leaving the top few open.

he rolled up the sleeves, sending you a look, “might as well have my whole shirt unbuttoned.”

“i wouldn’t complain.” you joked and he smiled, before quickly realizing your attire. you smile as he started pulling at the hem of his hoodie that sat on your frame.

“hey! this is mine.”

the baby blue hoodie looked better on you anyway, but he still liked to joke around with you, “i know.”

“thief.”

“come and get it then.” you shrugged, crossing your arms.

“oh, so now you’re in the mood?” he asked, “what was it? the buttons?”

you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “maybe.”

“you’re going to be the death of me.”

“you love me.” you smiled, his hands finding your warm, soft skin under his hoodie.

“damn right i do, baby. til the day i die.”

[hobies-princealbert]

pornstar! hobie brown x pornstar! reader | (obviously nsfw)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

☆ pornstar! hobie brown whose name you've heard floating around your feed since your first appearance. The one who you've been dying to get in touch with, but feared that your small following wouldn't interest him, like some of the others you've asked.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown, a veteran in the game, and by what you've heard is one of the best fucks some of the most seasoned creators have ever had.

☆ yeah, that same pornstar! hobie brown that just messaged you asking if you were down to collaborate with him one day.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who had you screaming into your sheets and kicking your feet cause not only does he knows you exist, he wants to collab!

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who you immediately said yes to.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown and you then stayed up all night discussing the location, time, equipment, condoms, toys etc. you know the good stuff. he was surprisingly thorough, most people you've collaborate with just wanted to make sure you were clean and had a good camera.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who when he showed up in the lobby of the hotel he booked, took your breath away. the man was ridiculously gorgeous. not to mention thay voice. god, fuck me sideways he's hot asf.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown took the initiative to started up some small talk as you made your way to the room. he could tell you were nervous, since you were much more talkative on the phone. and he could hear the excitement in your voice. but now you couldn't even look him in the eye. guess he's gonna have to do his best to ease your nerves.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown offered to do most of the heavy lifting like the setting up the cameras, lights, sanitizing the sheets, just whatever prep was needed. all he wanted from you was to get relaxed and ready.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who started you off with a slow heated makeout session. he was a damn good kisser, and his lip piercing made the experience even better. he told you to guide his hands to wherever you wanted them. his hands were much bigger than yours, but still his palms were soft and warm to the touch.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who's breath hitched once you directed one of his hands to cup your clothed cunt. you both stared at each other, both afraid to make any sudden moves.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown did his best to ensured you times that ""jus' say the word love, and all this stops. i won' be disappointed ok?" even though he said it with a half hearted tone, his gaze in his eyes was serious. the last thing he wanted was for you to force yourself.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who was doing his best to ignore the mind numbing throb in his pants, as he waited on your response. you then moved his hand pass the waistband of your panties, so he could put his finger in between your folds. once he did, his eyes grew slightly wide. you were soaked.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who you had to now ensure you were ready. "trust me I want this as much as you do, i promise i do". and with the simplest nod, he went to work.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown, that you found out was a real pussy drunk, had used his tongue to push pass your folds and was now tongue deep in your cunt. his hands pressed your hips further into his face anytime you even squirmed in the slightest. its not like you could help it. he sent the first few minutes searching your inner walls for the spot that made you cry out the loudest. and once he did it was hell to get him off it.

☆ the man, pornstar! hobie brown, was a messy ass eater. you could hear as he suckled hard on your clit. how whenever needed a break would just run his pressed tongue along your slit. and how he would groan whenever your walls tried to push out his tongue whenever you reached your peak.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who reminded you to breathe as you struggled to ease in his length. he knew it would probably be a tight fit, that's why he made sure to coat your cunt with slick and spit before he tried. "don' worry jus' breathe love. shhh i know, but imma need you to relax for me. no it will fit, jus' stay with me now".

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who loved to give you face a light tap whenever your eyes would roll back or you mumbled to him when he asked you a question. he would most definitely grab your chin if he caught you staring at the camera instead of him. he knows it's for the optics, but hell he's the one fucking you dumb, so eyes on him. "don' focus on them. 'm right 'ere love. set thos' pretty eyes on me. trust me please baby. just you and me"

☆ pornstar! hobie brown that loves to run his fucking mouth. you almost told him to shut up, especially since he realized how your walls would pulse around him whenever he so much as let out a groan. what can he say, if he sees an opportunity to make you cum, he'll do whatever it takes.

☆ speaking of cum, pornstar! hobie brown who tell you to open your legs wider so the camera can get a good shot of the mess your cunt made of your inner thighs and his dick. "let 'em see baby, aw look at that. oh i kno' they gonna be so proud of you, but probably not as proud as me. good girl, lemme clean you off." yes he gave you a tongue bath.

☆ pornstar! hobie brown who just by fucking you to the edge in some random hotel room, helped you blow up practically overnight. don't be surprised if he hits you up for a part 2. (he would even if there was no camera)

[amourane]

hate the way you smile

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, comedy, e2l + childhood enemies??

w/c: 4.7k

summary: from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn't so bad with theodore nott.

warnings: none just a lot of bickering

a/n: omg this one is a bit long but i finished it!

From the moment that you met Theodore Nott at the bright age of five you knew you would hate him forever. Maybe it was the way he would sneer at you with distaste or the way he would mock you for being a big crybaby whenever he took your toys. All you knew was that you simply loathed his presence.

Your families had been friends and they had initially thought that you and Theo would get along since you were both the same age. What they didn’t expect was the young boy to rip the heads of your dolls and proceed to mock you for crying your heart out. Yet even with all of your constant bickering your families still met up every holiday, bringing the demon child with them to torment your life.

Since that day your childhood was filled with cruel laughter and the mischievous eyes that would watch wherever you went.  At age seven, Theodore Nott found it appropriate to fill your bathtub with toads causing you to shriek out in terror when you opened the bathroom door, and him, to run away with glee at your horrified face. At age nine, he thought it would’ve been funny to surprise you by dumping a bucket load of pumpkin juice all over you and he cackled at your expected screams of anger. What he didn’t expect was for you to retaliate by smashing a tray of cauldron cakes into his face. 

Needless to say the war between you two started way back then and it had continued, the only difference being that now you both were more mature and civilised and there was no room for childish pranks.

“Suck my cock you mangled prat, I hope you trip and fall to your death you insignificant shit goblin!” 

At least so you thought.

You made a move and lunged for Theodore Nott’s throat as anger flared in your eyes. No one paid mind to the scene that was unfolding before them afterall it was a common occurrence for the last six years. 

“You enchanted my hair green!” You shrieked as you shook the brunette violently. “Are you out of your mind Nott? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mess with each other’s appearances, what happened to that?” 

Theodore simply smirked and you felt your fury bubble inside you. He tilted his head to the right and acted as if he was actually pondering your question. If you could you would have been breathing flames as you felt yourself grow more livid as every second went by. 

“Hmm…I like your hair L/n, really suits the whole vibe you’re going for, don't you think bella?” Theo flashed you a wicked grin as he reached out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. You slapped his hand away.

“And what vibe am I going for Nott? Please enlighten me since you apparently are the one making decisions for me.”

You should’ve just walked away. You really should’ve just cursed him out and gone to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of remedy instead of staying and entertaining whatever shit-faced idea he had come up with. The moment you saw the smug smirk that spread across his face and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes you knew he was going to spew some absolute bullshit. And you were right.

“Well obviously it’s a statement declaring that you’re mine, why else would you dye your hair to match my house?” The Slythering feigned disbelief, clutching his hands to his chest innocently. “But Salazar, I didn’t know you would be so bold about your feelings towards me bella.”

You felt heat rise and settle on your cheeks as you tried to come up with a colourful comeback to wipe the stupid smirk off his face but the words die in your throat. It was against your will but you could feel your face growing hotter as he continued to stare at you with that flirty glint in his eyes. Your brain spluttered to a stop and you scrambled desperately for something to say.

“Fuck you Nott.” You seethed before storming away with your hands balled into fists. You could hear the whispers of students and you could feel their stares as you stomped to the infirmary, determined to find some way to get your hair back to normal. 

Theodore Nott was the biggest pain in the arse you knew and he had never stopped being one. You still remembered when you had received your letter to Hogwarts and he had scoffed at the sight asking why Hogwarts would want a half-wit like you. Needless to say your parents weren’t surprised at the cries that erupted a second later from both you and him.

Throughout your years the two of you had become known for the obvious tension and pure hatred you harboured for each other though it did seem to lean on your side a bit more than it did to his. It had been the same for the first three years, bickering, pranks and whatnot. Then fourth year came and the scrawny boy you once knew had magically grown much taller and his face had lost a lot of the baby fat it once had. All at once Theodore Nott became one of the most sought after boys in Hogwarts and it only made you loathe him more. It made his ego triple in size and it made him much more flirty towards everyone but you seemed to be his number one target. All you wanted to do was to take your wand and puncture that bloated head of his.

Though his appearance changed he still was the boy you knew since you were a child and whenever he smiled you could see the same boyish grin he had way back when he was five. He had always been the same but now he just had a much more pretty face to disguise the fact he was a blithering idiot.

Theo watched as you stormed off, his smile never once leaving his face. He loved to mess with you purely to see the visceral anger that radiated off you every single time. The way you would try to stare him down but the action proved useless as he was much taller allowing him to simply look down smugly. It amused him to see how your reactions never changed. 

Ever since you were five you held the same expressions: whenever you were mildly irritated by him you would chew on your bottom lip, whenever you were pissed your eyes would double in size and you’d look like a fire-breathing dragon, and whenever he made you upset you would stare blankly without a word. He’d only ever made you truly upset once and when seeing your face he knew he would never do it again because even if the two of you bickered and fought he would never hurt you.

“Sometimes I think you’re secretly dating because you should see the way you’re daydreaming hopelessly while staring at L/n’s retreating figure Nott, you look like a bloody imbecile.” Draco slapped Theo’s back startling him out of his own thoughts. He scoffed after realising what his friend was implying.

“Oh Salazar’s balls I think I’m going to regurgitate my breakfast. You’ve gone insane if you even think for a second there’s a chance I fancy that creature.”

Laughter erupted from his friends and they continued to mock and tease him obviously not being mature enough to handle the situation with grace.

“I would rather shag the giant squid than date L/n and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”

Mattheo hummed to himself and smirked. He placed his arm on Theo’s shoulder. “Well then can I ask her out? She’s real hot and I think she’d be interested.”

“L/n might be stupid Riddle but she wouldn’t ever go out with you or even give you the time of day. So don’t even think about doing it.” And with that he left and his friends exchanged knowing glances before bursting into another fit of laughter at their friend’s own obliviousness.

//

This was so not your day. 

Never in your life had you forgotten to hand in homework yet one silly slip up had cost you to spend your free afternoon in detention. It wasn’t your fault you had mixed up the dates on when the transfiguration homework was due. 

You begrudgingly opened the classroom doors, finding a seat to sit down for the next hour. At least you were able to catch up on some other classes while you were in detention otherwise you thought you would’ve gone mad. You looked around the classroom save for Professor McGonagall who had already greeted you when you walked in there was no one else there. 

It hadn’t even been a minute when the doors burst open to reveal a very tall and very smug Slytherin.

“Mr Nott, glad for you to join us, find a seat please.”

Theo's grin faltered as his eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of confusion dancing across his features before it was swiftly replaced by his trademark smirk. He made his way toward you, closing the distance until there were mere centimetres separating you from him.

“Now L/n, Nott, I have important business to tend to so I assume the both of you are mature enough to sit through this detention. I hope that I don’t hear about any incidents when I am gone.”

It was as if your nightmare had all of a sudden come to life as you watched McGonagall leave the classroom. You tried to protest but it fell upon deaf ears as the professor had already left the room, leaving you stuck with your nemesis.

You whipped your head to face the brunette, irritation flashing in your eyes. Why had he chosen to sit next to you when there were plenty of other seats available? The classroom was far from crowded, yet here he was, invading your personal space with his mere presence

“Why are you sitting next to me Nott?”

“Why can’t I? Do you happen to own every seat in this classroom?” He teased. “I didn’t think you did, so I’m going to sit where I want.”

You grumbled under your breath at his stubbornness, getting up to pack your things. “Fine, but then I’m moving.”

Before you could make your move, Theo reached out and grabbed your arm. “Hey slow down, I have a perfect seat right here.” Your irritation flared at his audacity, and you shot him a scathing glare as he gestured to his lap with a smug smirk. “Why don’t you-”

“Nott, if you seriously propose that I sit in your lap I will hex you to oblivion.”

“Okay!” Theo held his hands up in mock surrender, his expression feigning innocence as he cocked his head to the side, the smirk never once leaving his face. “Stay here, I won’t bother you, I swear.”

You eyed him cautiously, your scepticism evident. You weighed the options before you reluctantly sat back down. “Fine.”

A quiet hush befell the classroom and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment. That is until you were interrupted by a persistent poking sensation that disrupted your concentration, each jab of the quill more annoying than the last. You clenched your jaw as you tried to ignore Theo but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him attention and there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of reacting. So he continued to poke and poke and poke. 

His incessant poking finally pushed you over the edge, prompting a sharp hiss of irritation from your lips. "What?" You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer.

“What are you doing here?” 

If there was a competition for incompetence Theodore Nott would sure have won first place.

“Detention obviously.”

“Oh you know what I meant, why are you in detention? Did you do something stupid? Wait, you do that all the time I forgot.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them right out of your skull. "Tell me, bella," He continued, his voice laced with faux innocence. "I don't bite."

“Forgot my homework.” You reluctantly mumbled under your breath, feeling all too claustrophobic at how close he was to you. “Not that big of a deal.”

“Oh but it is.”

“What does that even mean, Nott?” Your eyes narrowed. Theo’s face twisted into a playful smirk and he was so close that you could practically hear his heart beating.

He chuckled, undeterred by your hostility. "But it's not like you to forget your homework," He teased, leaning in closer. "There must be something distracting you. Perhaps... thoughts of me?"

As if on instinct your hands reached out to push the unbearable boy away from you and you immediately got up at his incredulous words. You saw the way laughter bubbled and slipped from his lips, mocking you which only added more fuel to the evergrowing fire.

"In your dreams, Nott," You retorted, your voice laced with venom as you rose from your seat, your movements quick and determined. "I would sooner volunteer for a Dementor's kiss than waste a single thought on you."

Theo’s smirk only widened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual," He quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he rested his chin on his palms, his gaze never wavering from yours.

You huffed out an angry breath before picking your stuff up and stalking to the opposite end of the classroom. Luckily, he didn’t follow and you were left in peace for the rest of the detention.

//

It had been a week and a half since your detention yet Theodore Nott hadn’t approached you once since. In fact, you hadn’t seen him around school a lot, not that you were paying attention of course. It was just weird. Usually his face would pop up in front of you multiple times a day yet he was nowhere to be found. You had even lingered around the Slytherin table at lunch to see if he would show up but he never did. 

There was this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even though you did despise Theo you had known him since he was a kid and he never was one to skip lessons much less disappear for over a week. Even his Slytherin friends didn’t know where he went.

That is until today. The moment you had walked into the dungeons ready for your Potions lesson you spotted him. There was a part of you that hoped you would see him today, after all he was your Potions partner. But there was something wrong. His face looked gaunt, pale, sapped of life and his eyes were merely blank as he sat unmoving. His usual demeanour was replaced with one of hollow emptiness.

“Where have you been Nott?” No response. You frowned as you looked at him, he seemed to not even hear you. “Nott? Have you suddenly become deaf?”

“It’s none of your business.” He snapped voice obviously laced with malice as the words cut through the air. The sharpness of his tone caught you off guard, a twinge of hurt gnawing at the edges of your consciousness despite the fact you both had said worse to each other.

You chose to ignore the fact that Theo was obviously in a sour mood and sat down beside him, unpacking your things. There was nothing special about the lesson, nothing that you needed to particularly pay attention to. Not that you did since you were too focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with your partner. Theo didn’t look okay, not in the slightest. He seemed exhausted and his sluggish movements proved you correct as he diced the various ingredients. 

You were in the middle of stirring the cauldron when Theo dropped a dandelion root in the mixture causing it to bubble and spit. The concoction spilled onto your hand and you shrieked at the sudden burning sensation that seemed to consume your hand in flames. The sensation is unbearable, a sharp, burning agony that seems to penetrate deep into your very bones. By now the whole class had stopped to look at you not fully registering what had happened. You turned to Theo, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the pain but he stood there frozen, an expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.

“Theo-”

"Fucking hell, L/n." He spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Would it kill you to not be such a clumsy moron? You could've hurt me as well. How can you even call yourself a witch?"

His words were sharp and spiteful. Through the many years of knowing Theodore Nott he had never blamed you for something he did. He might have been an incorrigible prick but he would still apologise if he had ever hurt you genuinely. But as you looked at him you couldn’t recognise the cold harsh look he gave you and you bit back your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him. 

Despite the fact your hand was in pain you felt something tighten around your chest and it made the air around you feel thick as if you couldn’t breathe. You stood up angrily, opening your mouth to snap back but your vision starts to fade, black spots invade your senses and that was the last thing you remember before you tumbled to the floor.

You woke up a few hours later as you felt the sun shine on your face. You blinked, disorientated, as you tried to get used to your surroundings. The familiar walls of the infirmary materialised and you felt some ease at knowing where you were. Confusion still gnawed at your mind as you struggled to piece together what had happened. How had you ended up in the infirmary? And why did everything feel so hazy, as if viewed through a foggy lens? 

Your gaze drifted to your hand, the source of the searing pain. And there, wrapped in a pristine white bandage, lay the answer to at least one of your questions. The memory flooded back in fragments, disjointed and incomplete.

Theo's careless mistake, the scalding mixture splattering across your skin, the sharp cry of pain that had torn through the air, all of it came rushing back with startling clarity.

“Miss L/n you’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through your thoughts and you saw the woman make her way towards you hurriedly. “That was a terrible burn you had, lucky I had some burn-healing paste on me otherwise you would have had an ugly scar.”

You were still a bit dazed, trying to piece together how you even managed to make your way here. You distinctively remembered collapsing to the floor but that was where your memory stopped and it refused to give you any more.

“Sorry Madam Pomfrey but do you know how I got here? I really can’t seem to remember.”

“Oh dear.” The nurse frowned at your condition. “Mr Nott brought you here. He’s been here the whole afternoon. He's only just popped to dinner. I'm sure he’ll be back. Merlin, the boy did look worried.”

You resisted the urge to scoff at her words. Theodore Nott, worried. Not a chance. He probably only brought you here because Slughorn insisted, and he couldn't risk getting on the professor's bad side. No, you highly doubted he cared about what had happened to you.

The memory of his harsh words repeated in your head like an echo that refused to go away, a reminder of his indifference to your situation. And yet, despite your efforts to brush it off, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. Why were you even upset? After all, the two of you were experts at hurling mean insults at each other. It was practically a pastime. 

Rather you should have been mad at the fact he was the one who caused you to get this injury anyway. If it wasn’t for his stupid mistake you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, you remembered his movements, how his usual nimble fingers were fumbling the ingredients, how he stared at the pages of his book as though they were in a foreign language. Something wasn’t right.

“You’re awake.”

The words startled you and you spotted the Slytherin boy approaching your bed as his face held the same blank expression as before. He sat down beside you and your eyes narrowed. You shuffled away, not wanting to be near him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly and the words caught you off guard. “These past few days just haven’t been the best and-”

“That’s your excuse?” You bristled at his pathetic apology, hoping that you had misheard what he had said. “You mess up our potion resulting in me getting hurt and then hurl insults my way trying to blame me for what happened. And you think simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? Using the excuse of having a few bad days as your way out?”

He stayed silent allowing you to continue.

“Theodore Nott, you always were an idiot.” You spat, the words tinged with disappointment. “But I never expected you to be such a heartless prick.”

As the final syllable fell from your lips, a heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You held Theo’s gaze and as you studied him you noticed something you had failed to notice before. The dark circles that marred the skin beneath his eyes, the redness that rimmed their edges. The weariness that had been etched into his features. 

“I went home.” He finally said, breaking the silence with his words. “Father sent a letter saying it was urgent, that I needed to return home at once.”

You felt yourself deflate and your gaze softened. Theo and his father had never been on the best terms and ever since his mother died they drifted apart even more. Suddenly his attitude made sense and you felt the guilt seep into your senses.

“Turns out his urgent matter was that he found himself another potential wife. Some poor woman to endure his torture and he wanted to happily announce it to his son. He burnt all of my mother’s belongings and if I hadn’t stopped him he would’ve gotten rid of her grave as well.” Theo scoffed bitterly and you saw the way he was trying to stop the tears from falling. “That bastard calls himself my father but not once in his life has he ever cared about me.”

A heavy silence enveloped the both of you as you sat not uttering a word. You knew that he had always struggled with the strained relationship with his family. The death of his mother had resulted in Theo being distraught for weeks as he relived the nightmare whenever he closed his eyes. 

“I’m not going back there. I’m never setting foot in that house ever again.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as you tried to offer some sort of comfort. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his tears glistened as they fell silently. You felt ropes tighten around your heart and you squeezed his shoulder gently. It had been a long time since you saw Theodore Nott cry. It was a rare sight but that was what made it that much more painful.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I honestly…I’m so sorry Theo. He really doesn’t deserve a son like you. You’re incredible, you know that? You might be irritating and loud and downright infuriating at times but he doesn’t deserve you because you’re amazing Theodore Nott. And, Merlin, if I’m saying that then it must mean a lot because we both know my word is golden.”

You offered him a small smile and your heart warms when you see one tug at his lips too. He looked away for a second and you saw his eyes land on your bandaged hand and he winced.

“I really am sorry for messing up our potion. I didn’t mean what I said, you’re a brilliant witch Y/n, you always have been. I was just being a prat, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s honestly nothing bad. My hand will probably already be back to normal, I heal quickly you know.” You paused as your smile faltered and you chose your next words carefully. “If…if you don’t want to return to your house, you can always go to someone else's.”

Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “No one is going to accept me into their house without turning me into my father.”

“I will.” 

Silence. Theo looked at you, confusion clear on his face but your gaze was strong and he could tell you had meant what you had said. You felt yourself flush at his stare and you realised your hand was still on his shoulder and you quickly removed it.

“Accept you into my house I mean. My parents love you and you know they haven’t been on good terms with your father ever since what happened. We would be more than willing to take you in.” You watched as his face contorted into expressions that you couldn’t formulate. “That is if you promise not to fill my bathtub with toads again.”

Laughter fell from his lips, cascading like a melody. He lifted his hands to wipe away his tears that had been streaking down his face. His eyes no longer held the blank emotionless look but rather a certain warmth that you had missed seeing. Your grin widened upon hearing the sound and you found yourself joining in.

“At least you look pretty-”

Your words were cut off abruptly as Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden and unexpected kiss. You froze, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening as disbelief rippled through your body. His hands found their way at the back of your neck and you feel his thumb caress your cheek tenderly. You were still in shock when he pulled away and the last few words of the sentence you were about to say tumbled out of your mouth.

“-when you cry…”

You blinked as your mind tried to grapple at what had just happened. Theodore Nott had just kissed you. Theodore Nott, the boy you had despised since you were five, had just kissed you. He kissed you. Kissed…you. Immediately, your body erupted into flames and you felt your face flush hot at how close the both of you were.

“Your body temperature has risen extremely quickly.” Theo teased and you felt yourself grow even hotter.

“Shut it.”

“Like you’re actually a human radiator.” He continued undeterred by your glare.

“Nott if you don’t want to lose your head I would advise you to shut up.”

Theo grinned and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. “Oh so now I’m back to being Nott? What happened to Theo?” He said his name in a high pitched croon in an attempt to mock your voice and you smacked the backside of his head which only encouraged his laughter.

“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” You groaned as you slumped back down the bed, pulling the covers over your face as a feeble attempt to hide yourself from the pretty Slytherin.

Theo poked your arm and you peeked out to find him staring at you with a bright grin on his face. 

"Don't worry." He reassured you, his voice light and teasing. "I'll make sure to stay by your side forever and ever, like a blood-sucking parasite."

“How romantic.” You drawled as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance as you retreated under the covers once more.

“Aren’t I just?” 

You ignored Theo’s playful whines for you to let him see your face. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But even so, you were unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, forever wouldn't be so bad with Theodore Nott by your side.

[starlostseungmin]

husband!seungmin

✰ notes: my brain is not working properly and idk if i could write any lengthy fics as of the moment but here’s husband seungmin because i’m bored and i love our puppy so much. not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

（ seungmin ）chan , lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Seungmin who cried when he saw you walking down the aisle with a big smile on his face thinking that he’s the luckiest man on earth to marry you. He couldn’t wait for the priest to finally announce you as husband and wife then kisses you in front of your friends and family. 

Husband Seungmin whose love language is act of service and words of affirmation with a little bit of gift-giving. 

Husband Seungmin who is still shy about engaging in physical touch. But when he does, he gets really clingy and refuses to let you go. You never complain. He also loves looking at you dreamingly while you sleepーwhispering how much he loves you and kisses your forehead before going to sleep, hugging you tightly. 

Husband Seungmin who cooks every morning before going to workーsometimes at nightーand holds your hand while brewing coffee as he steals kisses whenever you aren’t looking. 

Husband Seungmin who would take the day off from work just to stay home and take care of you when you’re sick. He won’t allow you to move and insist that he’ll do everything you ask for. 

Husband Seungmin who gets a bit possessive when someone who seems interested in you makes a conversation so he’d kiss your lips out of the blue and say, “We’re married.” then show off your wedding rings. 

Husband Seungmin who doesn’t pressure you to have kids with him since he respects whatever decision you make. It doesn’t matter anyway, as long as the two of you are together, that’s enough for him. 

Husband Seungmin who is still feeling nervous when he asks you out on a date. It would always feel like the first timeーhis heart racing, cheeks red as a tomato, the giddiness and sparks, everything goes in slow-motion. He would take you to your favorite places and have the best time. 

Husband Seungmin who loves tea time and is literally serving you hot gossip from workーlaughing at how everyone was so dumb and problematic in the industry. 

Husband Seungmin who used to prefer texts over calls but now he tends to call you often because he misses you. He would also wait for you to hang up first.

Husband Seungmin who would hug you tightly while kissing the crown of your head and whisper words that might comfort you when you’re breaking down and vulnerable in front of him. He would refuse to leave until you feel better. 

Husband Seungmin who makes weird noises and funny faces just to make you laugh. 

Husband Seungmin who acts like a puppy when he wants to be babied and asks for a kiss. 

Husband Seungmin who treats you like royalty. 

Husband Seungmin who gets over the moon when you surprise him with lots of (useful) Sanrio-related gifts. Mostly Pochacco and Pompompurin with a little bit of Cinnamon Roll. 

Husband Seungmin who loves to take A LOT of pictures of you with his phone or camera. You’d complain (playfully) about his storage getting full but he doesn’t mind because you are his muse. 

Husband Seungmin who brings you flowers on random days because they remind him of you. 

Husband Seungmin who kisses your lips intimately because he wants to. It could happen multiple times a day which could lead to something moreーmost of the time. 

Husband Seungmin who would walk away after an argument and come back hours later to apologize. 

Husband Seungmin who doesn’t want you to see him cry but gives in when you hug him. 

Husband Seungmin who gets brutally honest, cries over silly things, and does his little twerk when drunk but still cute as hell. 

Husband Seungmin who always scores 98-100 on coin karaoke and gets cocky. He knows you love listening to him when he sings and gladly does the favor when you ask him to—wherever, whenever. 

Husband Seungmin who is always good at everything. 

Husband Seungmin who doesn’t say “I love you,” most of the time but expresses it in different ways or says it with the things he feels about you. 

Husband Seungmin whose smile is the most precious in the world. You promised not to take it away and never make him cry. 

Husband Seungmin who loves you so much, makes you happy, never fails to make your heart beat, makes you feel loved and accepts you no matter what your flaws are. 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[fuckmymunson]

Confidential. — Eddie Munson.

☆ 18+, smut, lowkey hate sex, fingering. | word count: 1.2k

☆ my montly post ;) or maybe I'll find more inspo soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Can you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?”

“For what? So you can keep talking shit behind my back?” He asks back, crossing his arms. Leaning against the dirty bathroom wall, Eddie stares at you with a cocky smirk. He isn’t usually this confident, not around you at least. 

“I don’t want the whole school to think I’m your fucking groupie, dude. Just leave me alone,” You bite back. You wish you could erase that smirk on his face. The anger is bubbling up your throat, burning your insides. “Just because I’m the only one who lets you get your dick wet, it doesn’t mean you can go around bragging about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be bragging about it?” Eddie laughs, he has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t you think it would be a juicy conversation topic? You, little miss perfect, fucking the freak?”

“Shut the fuck up. Seriously— or I promise you I will beat the shit out of you.”

“Jesus, you kiss your mother with that mouth, sweetheart?” He mocks you again, again. Eddie is really testing your patience. Lowering his arms, he steps closer, his heavy boots tapping on the greasy linoleum. “I think we both know you look better with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock rather than talking shit.”

“Fuck you. Literally. I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Done with this conversation that will surely lead to nothing, you grab the doorknob. “You talk a lot of shit when we are alone, but you are such a pussy when people bully you. Just say you don’t have the balls to man up.”

“Man up?” Eddie takes another step. He is willing to chase you if you dare to open that door. “Oh, sweetheart. You know what kind of man I am. The man who can actually make you come, not like those preppy fuckers that share you.”

Your head whips at his words. He couldn’t have possibly said that. Perhaps you are having a stroke. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, cutie. The same whores you talk shit with, talk shit about you too— behind your back, I might add,” His hand takes yours, gently removing it from the doorknob. Eddie bites back a laugh when he sees your expression, how could you be so oblivious? “Haven’t you noticed? Or are you that stupid?”

Shaking your head, you push him— or try to, at least— the action surprises him, but he doesn’t move an inch. Eddie quickly wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you against the wall. He knows what you need, wherever and whenever, he knows what you want. Your hatred has no fundament, you are just a dumb sheep that follows the horde, but he can’t blame you; there’s the need to fit… and there’s the need you can’t escape from no matter what.

“Come on, you know you don’t want to break our little deal,” He whispers.

“Let go of me,” You choke. “You are lying. They are my friends—”

“You know what they say, sometimes your enemies live in your own home,” Nobody says that, Eddie is just making it up to play with your newfound insecurity. “Perhaps you are a freak, just like me.”

Smashing his lips against yours, your hands grope his shoulders. The logical thing would be to push him, to yell and run, but you can’t. Whatever he has, is drowning you. Eddie can make you see stars, and the problem is that he is the only one. A thing that happened by a stupid mistake occasioned by the stupid join you agreed is now escalating and threatening to ruin your reputation— he knows that. You know that. Outside he is no one, but when you two are alone, he makes you feel like you are no one. 

“You talk so damn much,” Your words are weak when his lips reach your neck, when his hands slide underneath your skirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too, pretty girl.”

Lifting one leg to wrap it around his hip, you bite your lower lip when his thumb traces the outline of your folds, rubbing the fabric of your panties against you. Keeping you steady with his free hand on your waist, Eddie bites down on your neck, relishing on the sweet cry that escapes your lips. He is so close he can smell your perfume, of course is the one he has been seeing advertised on TV. You fight so much to be perfect that it breaks you how pathetic your yearning is. He quickly finds your clit— now this is true, you know what they say… practice makes perfect— circling it slowly.

“You want to keep it so low, yet the only thing you keep low is your voice when I fuck you in your bedroom,” He taunts you. He hits you in your weakest spots. “Just accept it, I’m your escape— I don’t mind. As long as you are honest.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, buckling your hips when he pushes your underwear to the side. It is an endless battle, not only with him, but with yourself.

With a sigh, Eddie shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing softly. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Sliding a finger, his cold rings make you gasp. He never takes them off, not even when he fucks you. Eddie says it makes him look cool, you say it makes him look idiotic— and you maintain that thought, even when he is adding a second finger and curling it, rubbing your tight walls slowly. Moaning louder, you clasp a hand over your mouth, if someone finds you, God, you’d be ruined; he, on the other hand, has other plans. Thrusting his digits slowly, Eddie groans lowly every time he feels you tightening. The moans you fight so hard to swallow are a confidence boost, and right now? He wants to hear them all.

“Take that hand off your mouth or I swear I will leave you here,” His threat makes you shudder. What games is he playing? “I’m being serious.”

Reluctantly, you agree. The smile that appears on his cheeky face shouldn’t be as pretty as it is. Now you are sure he is toying with you— yet you can’t be mad about it. Not when he is speeding up, not when he is nibbling on your neck, not when you can feel his erection grinding against your thigh. Being finger–fucked by the town’s freak is already embarrassing enough, so naturally, orgasming so quickly would be even more embarrassing.

“Why do you fight it?” Removing his fingers, Eddie clicks his tongue when you protest. “I could fuck you every day if you weren’t such a bitch,” Yanking your underwear down, he pushes you harder against the wall, spitting on his fingers and returning them to his favorite place. Your pussy greets them back greedily, squeezing his digits and wetting them until you are not sure if it’s dripping down his wrist. “At least I know one part of you actually likes me.”

“Shut up— Shut up,” you repeat over and over, keeping your eyes shut. Your moans flow freely now, urging him to continue. Eddie loves how pliant he can get you, how just a little pleasure gets you this dumb. “Fuck— don’t stop, please.” There it is, what he has been dying to hear.

“I wouldn't dream of, princess.”

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”

Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.

Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.

“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.

Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.

Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.

“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.

“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.

His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[charliemwrites]

хозяин

Nobody. You wish it weren’t so apt. But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth.

Content: Dub-Con, Biting, Scratching, Exhibitionism, Possessive Behavior, Toxic Behavior

You must have pissed something off in a past life. Or they’re planning on giving you something really good in the next one. Because this… this is too much. He’s too much.

We are exactly right for you, khozyain.

It’s not just the taste of leather and oil on the back of your tongue each morning. Or the crimson smears on your sheets before bed. You could live with the shit sleep, the centuries of foreign memories, and the occasional hankering for raw meat that thins your appetite to nothing.

“You’re KorTac’s best operative?”

It’s a question you’ve heard a dozen times before – and will likely hear a dozen times more. The criticism is valid. You’re not an imposing figure; nothing impressive about you. Look more like a child in a Halloween costume than anything resembling a soldier. The question never bothers you because the unofficial title is as ill-fitting as the gun strapped to your thigh.

It’s not you they need to worry about bothering.

“We are. Problem, soldat?”

“There’s no problem, Nikto,” you answer in Sebastian Krueger’s place.

No, Krueger is too busy wondering where the big, dark figure behind your shoulder just came from. He could have sworn you stepped out of the transport alone. In broad daylight, no less. (That doesn’t mean there aren’t shadows.)

Nikto grunts, nearly tripping you with how closely he walks, toes of his boots nipping at the heels of yours. A stride twice the length of your own but doggedly following, not leading.

“Thought there was only one ‘a ya,” Declan O’Conor muses.

“Paperwork issue,” you lie, smiling.

Nikto grunts, pressing into your back as you stop in front of your temporary captain. You have to brace against his oppressive weight, feel yourself flush a bit when you don’t quite manage.

“Who’re you, then?” Declan asks, eyes on your shadow.

“Nikto,” comes the gruff reply.

Nobody.

You wish it weren’t so apt.

But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth. You don’t know if he ever was; he never gives you a straight answer when you pluck up the courage (or frustration) to ask. Last time, he told you that if he ever wanted to feel human, he’d just be inside you. (You’d flushed, didn’t know if he meant in your mind, where he often takes up unwanted residence, or… elsewhere. Couldn’t make yourself ask him to clarify, afraid of the answer. Jumped whenever he touched you for a week.)

You don’t know the exact bounds of this pact either. He listens to you only sometimes. When it suits him – or when it least suits you. And you’re not immune to his cruelty either, as the bruises and bitemarks and scratches can attest. Nothing like the romanticized crossroads deals you see in tv shows and movies.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if he’s a punishment for you or if you’re a reward for him. What’s that line you read online once? Dog heaven is squirrel hell. Did he make a deal with you, or did he make a deal with something else, and you’re just collateral?

You never bother to ask. He’ll just click his forked tongue and tell you that it won’t get rid of him either way. The worst part is that he’ll be right. You’re pretty sure the Christian God as you know Him has nothing to do with any of this.

The mission doesn’t matter, not really. You only listen for objectives. Whoever needs killing, whatever information needs gathering, wherever the hostages are. The rest is all useless extra, so much noise to Nikto, not even listening. He’s too busy bullying his way between your thighs, sinking his teeth into the meat through your cargos.

You’re never sure if he’s visible or the other operatives just avoid looking at him in these moments. Regardless, you flush and kick at him when his jaw locks too hard. It’ll bruise livid and ugly, and he’ll fuck the head of his cock into the aching ring of teeth prints left behind.

He’s insistent when the briefing is over, riled up by the promise of bloodshed. Pushy and growling, nearly snapping through his “mask” as he herds you like a rabid shepherd to your temporary quarters.

He fucks you in the doorway though, using one thick arm to bounce you like a personal fleshlight. The other keeps your jaw forced open so he can spit and lick into your mouth, obscene and filthy.

You push and squirm, but he just laughs that awful, maniacal rattle and grinds your clit into his pelvis. Until you start to mean it when you whimper “no” and “stop.” It always makes him cum so hard that you taste ichor in the back of your throat.

It’s too much to hope that you’ll eat in the mess hall uninterrupted. Nikto’s presence attracts the worst, and Krueger is compelled to pick at the weakness you exude. It’s no question that he’s a bigger, stronger, meaner beast than you. But like a dying soldier left to scream in the field, there’s a muzzle hidden out of sight, awaiting whatever is lured in – for mercy or to feast.

Krueger takes the seat across from you, one of his boots landing heavy and threatening on top of yours. You eat quietly, picking at your mashed potatoes and rubbery chicken. Listen to him jab and jeer.

Nikto is there but he’s not. He’s laughing in your ear at all the true but derisive things Krueger is taunting you with. All the sins he boasts of and the reactions he takes as proof of your inadequacy for the assignment you’ve been brought for. It would hurt more of you didn’t know it was true – and if your nerves weren’t rattling.

There’s a line, always a line. Some fault hidden beneath the surface that you don’t see until the ground splits and swallows up the unfortunate soul above.

This time, it’s a comment about how much more useful you’d be as a cockwarmer.

The plastic fork is an inch from his eye by the time you finish blinking.

“Nikto, stop!”

It snaps in his tight fist – but stops. Krueger hasn’t even processed how close he was to losing half his sight before you’re yanking Nikto back by the straps. He’s growling, snarling, half-crazed over a comment he’s made himself. You abandon your mostly full tray and the table altogether, putting all your weight and strength into dragging him from the cafeteria.

“Calm down, that’s enough!” you shout over the animalistic sounds ripping from his throat.

He turns on you instead. Pins you to the wall just outside, in full view of anyone passing on their way to dinner.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s chanting. Ripping through your pants (that’s the second pair this week) and thrusting against the seam of your ass. Already leaking precum from an obsidian tip at the small of your back, the corpse-pale base nestled between your cheeks. If he had the coordination through the frenzy, he’d stuff it into you dry and tight. As it is, it’s all he can do to buck against you, fingers digging divots into the cement wall, dust raining down on your face.

Mine, mine, mine, he chants inside your skull in languages known and unknown. You’re leaking through your underwear, too overwhelmed and bewildered to be anything but turned on. Fear is synonymous with attraction, those two wires soldered together and circuited to your pussy.

Copper fills your nose, warmth drips down your lips. Nikto scents it like a hound, yanks your head back to lap at the blood, groaning into your mouth.

Yours, yours, yours as his cock splutters against your spine, too hot. Tingly, almost caustic. You can barely breathe and he’s hauling you over one big shoulder, scooping your slick to prod at the hole he was just grinding against.

Us as you’re pinned with nowhere to go and no voice to praise or protest. In a room darker than a void. Suspended on an endless continuum of pleasure and pain, phantom claws raking your skin and phantom mouths filling whatever holes his cock isn’t occupying.

Sometimes you wonder if the plural “we” and “us” he tends to use is in reference to you and him, or…

The mission is going to be a success, it always is. You separate from the rest of the KorTac squad, shooing Nikto’s hands out from under your shirt. The claw marks still sting; the sooner you can get out of tac gear, the better.

He cracks his neck as the two of you approach the infil point. It sounds like snapping bone. A crescent moon carves into the night sky, sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“Is it time, khozyain?”

Those cajoling whispers caress your ears again. To let him run rampant, to let him fill your bath with blood. He’d be a scourge on the earth if you let him, a one-man apocalypse. The death of the world for a slip of the tongue.

Your hold on his leash is so tight that it’s imprinted past the skin, down into muscle. But on nights like tonight, for things like this… you let out the lead.

“Stay clear of Point B,” you remind into your com.

“Roger,” all others agree.

If they know what’s good for them, they’ll abide by the plan like holy writ. Not even you can promise their lives if they stray.

Shadow looms behind you, grows with each beat of your heart, spills over your shoulders, threads down your arms. You don’t dare glance at the inhuman head hovering right by yours, the maw parting for vicious, pearlescent teeth and pooling saliva. Hungry. Starving.

“Nikto.”

A rolling, ravenous churr vibrates through your skull. The lowest windows of your target begin to crack.

“Hunt.”

[stairain]

Conditioned response

You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, Mean reader, conditioning, forced orgasm, cumming in pants, dry orgasm, crying, begging, manipulation, ropes. 

WC: 1.2K

Training Spencer to cum on command was a labor of love. Having spent hours studying Pavlov and Skinner just to be able to make a  mess of your poor boyfriend on whim.

Spencer was almost unrecognizable, his face a deep shade of red and pink, slathered in a dripping layer of sweat, and a puddle of his own spend at his feet. 

Throwing his head back and swallowing breathlessly, he looks to you and pleads.

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please?”

His rug burned wrists desperately trembling in their binds as he tries so hard to be good for you. It’s wearing him down, you’ve made him cum at least three times now simply by the snap of your fingers. 

It wasn’t this easy at first, and it didn’t even register what you were doing when you finally gave him permission to cum and just so happened to snap at the same time. 

No, it took a while. After the next few times, it confused him, he ignored it, but then it became an expectation to him. 

Whenever your hand was tightly wound against the sensitive tip of his dripping cock, he’d look to you with those desperate pleading eyes before mustering up the courage to beg for release. 

After he’d ask, he wouldn’t wait for your call, no, instead he’d look down at wherever your free hand was. 

As a man of extensive knowledge, especially to things pertaining something as simple as conditioning, Spencer knew these things worked. 

He just hadn’t even expected himself to be the lab rat in your little experiment. 

But now, you’d find him adjusting just fine. At least to your standards. 

As soon as he arrived home, you had dragged him to the garage. He’d made no attempt to stop you, even as you sat him down on a cold metal chair. 

He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when you began to tie him to aforementioned chair. 

Spencer knew better than to question you, and he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. So when he dared open his mouth to talk, you’d quickly snapped your fingers, the sound reverberating through the empty, cold garage. 

Whatever word he tried to say had been quickly replaced with a weak whimper. You let out a small huff of amusement, you’d expected this. 

The dull brown cotton of his slacks were out to get him, he was convinced. You’d had enough of an ego boost knowing he just came untouched, but as the light fabric began to darken as it soaked with semen, you just couldn’t help yourself. 

“Look at you, making a mess so easily.”

You almost scoff, your words taunting and mean.  This was your own doing, how could you possibly blame him for this? But you did anyways, and he hung his head in shame as he tried to ignore the sticky spend seeping into his briefs. 

“I-I’m sorry, couldn’t help it.” 

It’s recommended to ask for permission before you beg for forgiveness, but you made sure he’d never be able to attempt the former. 

“Tell me what you know about counterconditioning, Spence.”

You say as you crouch down in front of him, granting the littlest bit of kindness as you start to undress him and rid him of his soiled clothes. 

The brunet stumbles over his words at first, but answers nonetheless. 

“I-It’s a way to reverse the effects of classical conditioning, associating a set conditioned response—“

You snap. He cums.

Spencer almost doubles over in shock as he shoots another load of sticky seed into his pants. 

“With another un—fuck—unconditioned stimulus.” 

You nod as you pull his cum drenched briefs and pants down his legs, and look up to him with eyes that render him absolutely useless. 

“And how would I do that, to stop this?”

You emphasize your question with the swipe of your fingers across his slick covered tip. His thighs twitch around your head and he licks his lips, trying to take back what little composure he’s ever had.

“Y-You could do that–“ His eyes flicker down to where you’re touching his cock “A-And stop snapping. E-Eventually there won’t be an association between the stimuli.” 

Spencer speaks with an urgency that’s only found in those who know they’re done for. 

“But you don’t want that, do you?”

Your voice drips in a malicious seduction, tilting your head to the side as if to feign an innocence only he should have. 

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head. Even with his cock aching and his thighs sticky, his need to obey you was stronger than the pain of his self. 

So when you smile up at him, looking genuinely proud, it makes the ache worth it. He smiles back, albeit crooked and broken. 

The moment doesn’t last long, of course it doesn’t. As soon as he saw you raise your hand and press your fingers together, his eyebrows wrung together and his thighs quickly shut. 

It was fascinating, it was as if his body just couldn’t stop itself. Even as only a few spurts shot out of his throbbing cock. Thick white drops of cum dripped down the veiny shaft, falling all the day down his balls and onto the chair beneath him. 

Spencer throws his head back and lets out a strained moan, one that was full of pain and little pleasure. 

It hurt so badly, and he could barely keep up. You were simply torturing him because you could.

“I-I can’t, please.”

He begs, shaking his head when you stand up from your knelt position and look down on him like he was a filthy animal. 

“I’ve only touched you once, and here you are cumming without my permission three times. How selfish.”

You degrade him, reducing him to the villain in the scenario. Tears begin to stream down his face and he can feel his heart twisting in his chest. 

You’re right, he’s failed you more times than acceptable. He should feel ashamed.

“I-I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Spencer practically sobs, his entire body trembles as it aches with the aftershocks of three forced orgasms. 

A small huff expels from your nose and you shake your head. It was unfair, really, how easily manipulated he was. 

It was your fault after all, but what was it worth if not the satisfaction of reducing this know-it-all of a man down to desperate pleads and animal-esque behavior? 

You’ve got your hand held up behind your back, he knows it. He knows you too well to ever even entertain the idea you’d ever listen to him, but he’s hopeless enough to try anyways. 

A sob wrecks through his throat and he feels as though he can barely breathe. 

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please? I-I can’t do this anymore.” 

It’s cruel, the way you laugh in his face as he drowns in his tears. How foolish of him to even ask.

Maybe you were being a touch too cruel, but it was all worth it the moment you saw genuine fear fill his eyes and the slight shake of his head as he begged you one last time to end it. 

But he knew better, and he couldn’t help himself as the hand behind your back echoed a snap right through his ears and out his length. 

You see the way his mouth drops open in a shrill cry, and relish in the sight of nothing coming out of his poor cock in a torturous dry orgasm.

His body’s given you everything it possibly can, and yet, you just can’t help yourself. 

[yuukiiqwq]

Our Blue Spring: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Time stopped for you that day. That day where all four of you are laughing together, the sun brightly shining, the wind gently blowing, the sky a beautiful blue, where all of you believed everything was going to be alright.

Tags/Warning: Fem!reader, Teen!Gojo, Reader is a jujutsu sorcerer, Fluff, Gojo in love, Gojo in denial, One-Shot

˚✧˚. Wc: 2.5k ˚✧˚.

"Shoko! I need help!" Satoru burst through Shoko's door. "I think I'm dying!"

Shoko turned around to face Satoru. She did not want to deal with his childish antics right now. It was 8am in the morning, and she was surviving on less than 2 hours of sleep.

"Gojo Satoru. I haven't had my morning coffee yet. Do not talk to me until I have my coffee. I am not ready for whatever thing you have to say."

Satoru put his hand on his chest and whined dramatically– "You wound me Shoko! I could be dying right now, and all you care about is coffee!"

"Please do. It would save everyone from your annoyance," Shoko sighs.

"I am not annoyi–"

"Just tell me why you think your dying when you're perfectly fine."

"Well–" Satoru quickly plopped down on Shoko's chair and leaned his head back. "Lately, my heart had been beating super fast and–"

"Out of nowhere?" Shoko interrupted.

"Well, no but–"

"So around someone?"

"Technically, yes, but will you–"

"Around who?"

Satoru huffed angrily and crossed his arm. "Will you let me finish first! It's like I'm being ignored here!"

Shoko ignored his comment and continued– "Around wh–"

"Nuh, uh! Let me finish talking first!" Satoru immediately interrupted. "So, as I was saying before, I was rudely interrupted."

Shoko rolled her eyes at his comment because Satoru always rudely interrupted people when they're talking.

"Lately, my heart always beat super fast around her, and my eyes always follow her around. I always want to see her smile and see her happy. Whenever I see her sad or hurt–" Satoru grasped his shirt tightly where his heart was and looked down– "My chest hurts. It feels like someone ripped my heart out, which is impossible since I'm the strongest!"

Shoko had an expression of shock before it turned into amusement.

"And who is this girl?"

"Y/N! She must have cursed me, right? She must be envious of how strong I am despite her always denying it! Shoko! Diagnose me! I'm sure I'm dying!"

Shoko couldn't help but laugh at this predicament.

"Why are you laughing?" Satoru pouted. "I'm dying, and you're laughing at me."

Shoko eyes sparkled in amusement and mischief.

"You're diagnosed with love."

"What?"

"Suguruuuuu!"

"No, Satoru. I don't want to listen to you complain about your crush for the 50th time today."

"I don't like her! I just–you know!" Satoru whined and made some weird hand gestures.

"Satoru. I swear to God, I will summon a curse right now to eat you. Ever since that day where Shoko diagnose you with love, you only talked about her, complained about how much you like her, how she doesn't pay enough attention to you and then denies it the very next second." Suguru sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can already feel an upcoming headache from this conversation.

"I don't like her!" Satoru whines again. "I don't like her just because my eyes follow wherever she goes. I just want to be close to her at all time! It's not my fault my heart and soul desires hers. It's not like I want her to be mine or anything! I don't like her like that."

"Satoru. You're contradicting yourself in every sentence."

"Excuse me? I am not!" He crosses his arms and starts to sulk.

"Are you guys fighting again?"

They both turned around to see you and Shoko carrying drinks.

"They're probably were being the idiot they are. Always fighting about the stupidest things." Shoko sighs and puts down the drinks on the table. "And they're the ones who made us go out and buy them drinks. I should be the one beating them up."

"Satoru was complaining about his crush again. This is like the 50th time today." Suguru grabs the newly brought coffee from the table. "Even coffee won't save me from this catastrophe."

"Geez Satoru, poor Suguru having to go through all that," you laughed. "When are you going to tell us who got you all whipped up?"

All three of them stared at you. Like stared at you.

"Why are you guys staring at me? I'm sure all three of us want to know who he likes since all he talks about is her."

"It's nothing to worry your pretty head about," Satoru says as he grabs his coma-inducing drink.

"You wouldn't understand since you're so oblivious to such obvious hints," Shoko said as she sat down and grabbed her coffee. "He's absolutely smitten by her, and the girl is completely oblivious."

This immediately causes Satoru to complain – "Excuse you! I do not give out obvious hints, and I absolutely am not smitten! I do not like her like that!"

What you didn’t notice during this time was how he kept sneaking quick glances at you. It's not like he can help it! You obviously had some dust on you, and it was bothering him!

"Why is she with Nanami!? I'm so much cooler than Nanami!" Satoru glares at you who is busy talking to Nanami. "Why isn't she spending time with me!"

At this moment, all Suguru wanted to do was to dump Satoru into the trash can. Shut the lid and hope that the garbage man takes him far away. Not that it will help since Satoru could teleport.

"For the love of everything nice, Satoru just confesses that you're in love with her. Stop being in denial. I'm going to lose my mind listening to you complain every day about the same thing."

Satoru huffed– "It's not love!"

"Satoru, listen. What if someone comes up to her and takes her away from you? What are you going to do?"

"That's such an easy question!" Satoru laughed. "I can use reversal red on them, duh! Even their ashes won't remain!"

"What if she likes them too? Or what happens when we lose her all together? You know being a sorcerer is dangerous," Suguru sighed.

That immediately stopped Satoru from laughing. The smile immediately wiped away from his face, and the light in his eyes dimmed. The expression on Satoru's face was fear? Uneasiness? For once, Suguru couldn't tell what expression was on Satoru's face. He couldn't figure out what he was feeling.

"Satoru?"

No response.

"Satoru," Suguru shaked his shoulder. "Satoru."

Saroru snapped out of his daze. A smile immediately reappeared on his face, and his eyes light up once more.

"Hm? What did you say, Suguru? You bored me so much with your rambling that I dazed off~"

"Satoru–"

Before Suguru can reply– "Satoru! Suguru!"

Both of them look toward the sound of your voice. You were dragging Nanami toward them.

"Ah, finally bored of just talking to Nanami?" Satoru laughed as he walked up to meet you halfway. He then put his arms around Nanami. "Nanami is quite boring compared to me after all~"

You stared at him and then frowned. "Satoru."

"Hm?" He hummed as he tilt his head to face you.

"What's wrong? You're acting stran–"

"Nothing is wrong," he immediately interrupted you, smiling brightly. "You're imagining things. Everything is fine, right Suguru?"

Your frown deepen. Something wasn't right.

Satoru felt like using reverse red. For all he knows, all he can see is red. Today was the day of the goodwill event, and there was this guy from Kyoto Tech who's putting his hands all over you. He felt like something was clawing his chest open. Sure, there is a rule of no killing, but surely they'll understand that his hand slipped, right? He just wanted to get rid of that weird feeling in his chest.

He then felt someone's hand on his shoulder.

"Jealousy is an ugly look, Satoru. You're going to stare a hole into that guy."

"I'm not jealous, Suguru. That guy just looks so annoying! He's annoying me by existing! I just think my hand is slipping, which might cause me to accidently use reversal red."

Suguru shakes his head in amusement.

"Whatever you say, Satoru. But she doesn't need rescuing Satoru," Suguru said as he pointed toward your direction. "Look."

They watched you as you elbowed the guy in the guts. The guy crumbled onto the floor, and you leaned down and said something to him before you noticed both of them. You immediately smiled and came up to them.

Suguru laughed as he ruffled your hair– "Ouch. That looks like it hurts a lot."

"He deserved it," you huffed. "He was annoying and being a disgusting pervert."

"Surely I can reverse red him, right? I mean, it's not like anyone will notice him gone–"

"Absolutely not, Satoru!" You quickly turned to look at him. "The rule of this event is absolutely no killing even if he's a creep!"

Satoru looked you in the eyes and then whined– "Fineeeee. No killing! Maybe a few broken bones or–"

"Satoru!"

The sun was setting, and when the goodwill event ended, the guy from earlier has seen much better days. He was covered in bruises, broken bones, and a few fractures. But it's ok! He's just an NPC that no one would care about, as Satoru claimed.

"See, I didn't kill him!" Satoru exclaimed as he waited for you to compliment him.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Good job, I guess."

"You guess?? How rude! I defended your honor!" Satoru complained.

"You saw me elbowing his gut this morning, Satoru," you replied, which led to Satoru to look away and sulk.

You laughed at his behavior before saying– "The sunset is beautiful today."

Satoru looked back up but not at the sunset. He looked at you. The way the light kissed your skin made you look beautiful. He felt his breath get taken away by your beauty. You were always beautiful to him. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.

"Yeah. Absolutely beautiful."

After the goodwill event passed, Satoru was acting weird. Yeah, he's normally weird, but this was a whole different weird. Lately, he always seems to be in a daze thinking about something.

Today, you guys decided to go to the park to hang out, but Satoru was even more unusually quiet.

"Satoru! Earth to Satoru!" You called as you wave your hand over his face.

"Huh?" Satoru snapped out of his daze. "What's happening?"

"Shoko and Suguru went to buy some popsicles. You didn't answer them, so they said they'll make sure not to get you anything," you shaked your head and sighed. "We called you multiple times, but you didn't answer. What's on your mind lately? I'm worried about you."

Satoru bit the bottom of his lips and got up from the swing. He pushed you to sit down on the swing and held the chain with his hands.

"Satoru?" You tilted your head to the side in confusion.

He took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes.

"I have something to say. I think I'm in love."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Satoru quickly continued.

"Don't say anything until I finish."

You closed your mouth and nodded. Satoru's cheek was dusted in a shade of light pink. You couldn't help but think about how cute he looked in this moment.

"You remember asking who I was 'whipped' up for? The one I always complain to Suguru about?"

You slowly nodded your head.

"It's you. It's always been you. My heart always beat uncontrollably fast around you. All my thoughts are consumed by you and only you. I want you to be happy. I want you to smile. I never want to see you hurt. I don't ever want to see you sad. Lately, I’ve been thinking about what life would be like without you and... it's hard to imagine. I feel like there's this hole in my chest when I imagine what life would have been like without you. Maybe I have been denying my feelings for a long time despite knowing that I was in love."

You notice how Satoru was trembling. He was scared.

"I'm scared. I'm scared of these new and weird feelings in my chest. I'm scared of love. I'm scared of the changes it will bring. I'm scared of the pain of losing you because I love you. I'm scared to lose you. I'm scared to imagine my life without you. But I want you to be mine. I love you. I love you so much that I feel like dying without you. Will you please date me? Go on a date with me? Let me court you? Be my girlfriend? Let me call you mine? Please?"

You were beyond surprised. You didn’t expect him to confess to you out of everyone. You definitely didn’t expect him to pour out all his feelings either. But it was a pleasant surprise. You couldn’t help but smile gently at Satoru.

"Satoru." You said as you cupped his face.

He looks at you, eyes gleaming with anticipation and fear.

"I'll date you."

The second you said those three words, Satoru eyes light up with happiness.

"Really?" He asked as he took your hands off his cheek and into his own.

"Really."

Satoru immediately pulled you up from the swing, lifted you up, and spinned you around. He couldn't help but feel relieved that you agreed to date him. He felt extremely happy. He felt like he had the world in his hands, and in a way, he did. Because you are his world.

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you," he laughed.

You couldn't help but laugh along with him. After all, he had the brightest smile on his face right now. He was radiating pure happiness. He gently put you back down onto the ground and leaned down towards you.

"I want to kiss you. May I? Or am I moving too fast?"

You smiled, leaned in, and wrapped your arms around his neck– "You may."

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. When he leaned down and your lips gently connected, you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. A feeling of warmth spread across your body. It was like everything was perfect. Like it was meant to be. It felt just right.

When your lips parted, both of your cheeks were dusted with a shade of pink. You stared in each other's eyes for a moment before both of you crack a smile.

"About flipping time."

Both of you jumped and turned around to see Shoko and Suguru. Their eyes were sparkling, and they had a smirk on their face.

"You guys–" you started as you carried a massive blush on your face. "How long have you been there?"

"The whole time," Shoko laughed as she shook her head.

You looked down and then noticed that they hadn't brought any popsicles like they said they were going to.

"Man," Satoru whined and nuzzled against you. "You guys totally set this up, didn't you?"

A moment of silence passed before you let out a laugh. Your laugh caused Satoru to start laughing as well. Which ended up with all four of you standing there laughing.

In your mind right now, time stopped. All four of you together, the sun brightly shining, the wind gently blowing, the sky a beautiful blue, where all of you believed everything was going to be alright.

Author's note: I struggled a lot with deciding the ending... I wanted it to be a happy ending, but I also originally planned for a sad ending. After going back and forth for a while, I decided a happy ending with a tiny hint of angst. 🩵

[pileofmush]

luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.

when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 

you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.

you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 

but he does. 

he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 

it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.

and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.

but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.

and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 

and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 

how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.

but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 

everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.

“what’s wrong?”

you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 

luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.

“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 

he shrugs. “wherever you want.”

and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 

you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Rock Me - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer decides to surprise Rockstar!Reader on the road after one of her tour stops, so they fuck each other’s brains out.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I made my first custom fic header! I really wanted to capture the vibe I was picturing for this so I hope y’all like it! Decided to combine my love of music with my love for Spencer Reid, I was def picturing the vibes of The Pretty Reckless and In This Moment for the kind of band reader is the frontwoman of, reader plays the bass guitar because I always wanted to play bass when I was younger lol. Very short outro cuz I felt like it was getting a little too long lol, p.s. yes the title is a one direction song, fight me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: sub!spencer, mommy kink, established relationship, lots of teasing, playfully mean dom!reader, degradation, pet names, unprotected sex, penetration, afab + fem reader, slight alcohol mention, cum eating, oral sex (reader receiving), handjob, typical criminal minds level violence at the beginning.

Rating: R, 18+

——

You were a force of nature. Spencer knew that from the moment the team walked into that concert venue in search of a serial killer targeting high profile rock musicians. Your voice captivated him, strong melodies reverberating inside his mind, snaking around his every thought, he was hypnotized like a sailor drawn to your siren song.

When the unsub ran on stage and held a knife to your throat, Spencer’s heart stopped, until you used the headstock of your bass to uppercut the criminal, forcing him to drop the knife and stumble back into your bandmate’s drum set. You weren’t going to wait for someone to rescue you no matter what you were ordered to do, your fate was in no one’s hands but your own.

That was the moment Spencer knew he had to have you, and he’d do whatever it took to see you as often as possible. He spent the next six months bouncing back and forth across the country, from whatever state the latest case was in to wherever your next tour stop was. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Now, as he waited anxiously on your tour bus with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand ready to surprise you, he found his mind wandering back to every dirty encounter the two of you had leading up to this. He catered to your every whim, falling to his knees to eat you out whenever you asked, in your dressing room before a show, in the bathroom on the moving tour bus, even side stage right after you’d just finished performing, smelling like smoke and sweat, ripping your fishnets so he could devour your cunt on top of an amp.

What the two of you had was utterly filthy, and he loved every second of it. You hadn’t given him the pleasure of properly fucking you yet, but that’s not to say you disregarded his pleasure all together, far from it. You loved to let him put on a show for you, sitting on the bench across from him on the bus as you watched his brow furrow, his large hand fisting his cock impossibly slowly as you talked him through masturbation, reveling in the way he whimpered when you finally gave him permission to cum, shooting a massive load all over his lightly toned stomach.

He felt free with you, like he could lull the constant noise in his head for a short while and just be whatever you wanted in the moment, whether that be a loving boyfriend who’d hold you and let you bitch to your heart's content about your in-ears malfunctioning during the show, or a mere tool for your pleasure, he was content.

But right now, he was really, really hoping you’d use him like your own personal sex toy.

-

You raised your bass in the air, screaming an enthusiastic ‘goodnight!’ into your mic before running off stage, desperate to rip your clothes off and cool down after sweating your ass off under the stage lights for the last hour and a half.

You handed off your gear to the sound techs before saying congratulatory goodbyes to your band mates, making as close to an irish exit as you could, shaking off any fleeting guilt you had about it knowing you’d do the whole thing over again together in a couple days when you arrived in the next city.

You grabbed your bag from your dressing room, taking a couple snacks for the road from the basket the venue provided in accordance with your rider before heading out to the bus, ready to take a cold shower as soon as possible. You yanked open the bus door handle, climbing the short steps into the central seating area, nearly dropping your bag when you finally saw him.

“Spence!” You cheered, a little too giddy to see your boy wonder. You quickly tossed your bag aside and straddled his lap, taking his face in your hands and crashing your lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue danced with his, desperate to taste him after two weeks of no physical content. Spencer had sent you as many tribute videos as you’d asked for while you were apart, but it just wasn’t the same as getting to feel him.

When you pulled away, the deep red of your lipstick was smeared across his plush lips, and you would’ve giggled if the sight hadn’t turned you on so much. He really was so pretty, you absolutely understood why his teammates nicknamed him pretty boy. You kissed him one more time on the cheek, placing a perfect kiss print on his soft skin before reaching for the flowers he’d brought you. You took in the fresh floral scent, admiring the flora for a moment before thanking him and getting up to put the stems in the neck of an empty liquor bottle in lieu of a vase.

“I’ve missed you.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he watched your handiwork over your shoulder.

“Not more than I missed you.” You challenged, setting the makeshift floral arrangement on the small countertop. You turned to face him, your platform boots putting you right at his eyeline. He may have been taller than you but that didn’t stop the hold you had over him.

“It doesn’t have to be a competition.” He laughed, pulling you closer.

“But it does Spence, do you know how many times I got off stage and wished you were there to see the killer show we put on?” You were earnest, something only he seemed to be able to pull out of your usually headstrong facade.

“Ah, every show you put on is extraordinary, watching you is transcendent, you’re otherworldly up there, even on what you consider your bad days.” He praised, showering you with his famously flowery language. You felt a special appreciation for it, because despite the messy rocker chick stereotype, you held a life-long love of literature close to your heart.

“God, you are so whipped!” You teased, lightly pushing at his chest. Despite your deflection, the blush creeping across your cheeks showed him just how much his words meant to you.

“Maybe, but I know you love it.” He called your bluff and the back and forth was starting to stir something in you that needed attention, now.

“You know what I missed the most?” You asked, unable to keep your eyes off of his mouth.

“What?” He knew where you were going with this but needed to hear the words from your perfect lips.

“Seeing you cum all over your stomach live and in person.” Your sultry tone sent blood rushing straight to his cock, eidetic memory pulling clips of your mutual masturbation to the front of his mind.

“W-what if I came somewhere else tonight?” He stumbled over his words, having a hard time maintaining eye contact as he asked the awkwardly worded question.

“Like where?” You played dumb, exaggeratingly tilting your head and twirling your hair around your finger.

“Inside you.” He whispered, gaze locked on the wall behind you.

“Hmm I didn’t quite hear that, can you repeat it for me?”

“Inside you, I want to fuck you.” He blurted out, lipstick-stained cheeks burning bright red in embarrassment. You took his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look at you as you pondered your next move.

“I have a mountain of fan mail full of guys begging for the opportunity to fuck me, what makes you think you deserve it more than any of them?” You prompted, watching the way his features contorted in reaction to your somewhat harsh question.

“You’re being mean.” Tears started to well up in his eyes, brown irises glazing over as a lump formed in his throat. Despite how sad the thought made him, it also had his bulge straining even harder against his pants than it already had been.

“I know baby, but you’ve gotta prove how badly you want this, I’m not just going to give you the privilege without earning it.”

You could see the wheels turning in his head, no doubt debating what he could do to demonstrate his worth to you. His demeanor started to shift, holding eye contact as his shoulders straightened, practically puffing out his chest.

“I think I’ve already proven myself to you, given that you’ve cum on my tongue more times than you could count.” This sudden surge of confidence from Spencer was unexpected, but something about it had you hungrier for him than ever.

“Fair, although I do think that eidetic memory of yours gives you an unjust advantage.” You teased, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. You took a step forward, closing what small gap was left between the two of you before bringing your hand to graze over his bulge. He let out a breathy whimper, pupils dilating as you applied slight pressure to his almost painfully hard member.

“I’ll do whatever you want, I just need you to touch me.” He breathed, bucking into your hand. You began to undo his belt, pushing him back until he fell back onto the leather bench. You loomed over him, low cut top giving him a face full of cleavage as you worked to slide his pants down just enough to free his aching cock. You moved to straddle his lap, sitting back on his thighs to leave ample space to toy with his member.

“Can you be a good boy for me?” You purred, starting to pump your spit-covered hand up and down his shaft.

“God yes.”

“Yes, what?” You stared him down, watching his lips part with a gentle moan.

“Yes Mommy.” The groan ripped from his throat, prominent veins framing his adam's apple.

“That’s right baby, let mommy take care of you.” You kissed his cheekbone, then his jawline, admiring the way your crimson lipstick contrasted against his pale complexion as you worked your hand over his cock, feeling every curve and contour of his thick veins against your palm.

“Take off your shirt.” You ordered, your free hand skirting under his layered vest and button-up to feel his abdominal muscles flex with every shallow breath he took. He did his best to quickly undress, lifting the vest over his head before shaky hands began unbuttoning each adornment, finally shaking off the garment and exposing his bare chest.

You trailed your kisses down his neck, peppering lip prints across his chest, stopping periodically to suck and nip until dark red and purple bruises bloomed over his skin. You could tell he was holding back, front teeth biting into his bottom lip to stifle his sighs.

“Spencer, I need to hear you.” You bring your hand to a stop, waiting for him to release his lip from the bite before starting up your movements again. You brought your other hand down to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you increased your speed, rotating your wrist to maximize the stimulation against his increasingly sensitive shaft.

The moans and whimpers falling from his lips grew louder, his mind abandoning all inhibitions as his approaching orgasm clouded his judgment.

“You’re so loud, the rest of the band is in the bus right next to ours, do you want them to hear how big of a whore you’re being right now?” You teased, snapping him out of his love-drunk stupor.

“I-I thought you wanted me to-“ He stuttered out, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re right sweet boy, I want them to hear exactly how good I make you feel.” You cut him off, a wicked grin spread across your face as you focused your movements on the tip of his cock, your thumb smearing the pre-cum dripping from his slit all over the swollen head. His moan caught in his throat, breathing becoming increasingly labored until one final twist of your hand had him falling over the edge.

“Mommy!” He cried out, his thighs flexing as thick ropes of cum painted his stomach. You slowed your movements just slightly, milking him for all he has. You took your free hand and picked up some of his spend on your fingers before bringing them to his parted lips, prompting him to suck them clean. He does as he’s told, utterly shameless about everything he does for you.

“You’re such an obedient slut Spencer, I love it.” You praised, pulling him into another heated kiss. You pulled away, watching him catch his breath and look at you like you hung the stars in the night sky.

“I think you’re ready for me, if you’re up for it.” His eyes went wide at your proposal, his heart feeling as though it could beat right out of his chest.

“Yes, yes, I just need a minute.” He panted, his cock already semi-hard again.

“Take your time sugar, I’m gonna take a quick shower.” You patted his cheek before rising off of his lap and walking to the small bus bathroom, stripping out of your black latex mini dress and shredded fishnets to wash off the sweat and body shimmer from your time on stage tonight. You didn’t bother removing your makeup, too excited to finally have Spencer’s perfect cock inside of you to waste any time.

He didn’t need to know how badly you wanted him, the cat and mouse game the two of you played was unlike anything you’d ever had before and it beyond satisfied you to know how much power you willingly held over him, and how much pleasure you mutually received from it.

When you finished scrubbing down you made your way to your small bedroom at the back of the bus, finding Spencer ready and waiting for you on your bed. He was laying nude on top of the comforter, messy strands of hair resting against his forehead, pillow sitting in his lap as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch for you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He greeted you, watching as you rubbed body lotion over your skin. When you reached your chest, you spent a little extra time kneading the lotion into your breasts, putting on a bit of a show for him. He loved all of you, that much you were sure of, but he always had a special appreciation for your breasts.

He’d find any opportunity to lay his head on your chest while you laid in bed together on your off days, watching Doctor Who and nerding out over through lines and plot holes alike. It was days like those that had you really falling for him, your souls finding ways to both mesh with and contradict each other in a perfect harmony.

“You’re too sweet to me.” You smiled at him, rubbing the last bit of lotion into your skin before walking to the end of the bed. You reached forward, observing as his eyes went straight to your chest when you bent over to pull the pillow away from his lap. His cock stood straight up, bobbing slightly. A deep blush creeped over his cheeks, his shyness endearing, especially given that you had just had your hand wrapped around him twenty minutes ago.

“Do you want to be on top, sweetheart?” The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, he just figured you’d be the one in control of the whole thing, but the thought of hovering over you, getting to have a perfect view of your hair all splayed out over the pillows, your face contorted in pleasure, had goosebumps rising over his skin.

“If that’s what you want.” He surrendered, always looking to please you. You nodded, climbing onto the bed to lay down, waiting for him to reposition himself between your legs. He knelt there, reaching to grab the pillow from the end of the bed, bringing it behind your thighs. You understood what he was silently requesting, lifting your hips to allow him to slide the pillow underneath.

“Where’d you learn that, wonder boy?” You giggled, propping yourself up by your elbows to watch him.

“I read that it can ease the tension on the lower back created by repeated movement during intercourse, I want you to be comfortable.” He explained, bleeding heart showing once again. You nodded, smiling at him. His fingers slid up your thigh, pausing at the apex before dipping into your folds, his digits welcomed by your warm arousal.

“Y-you’re so wet already.” The look of amazement on his face amused you, as if he was somehow completely unaware that you were, in fact, truly attracted to him.

“Spencer, believe it or not, I actually do enjoy our time together.” You teased, raising your knees to your chest to give him a better view of your cunt. His features softened, your joking easing his nerves as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

“Can I start?” He asked, positioning his hips just above yours.

“Yes baby, go slow.” You locked eyes with him, pushing a strand of hair away from his face. He brought his cock to your cunt, rubbing the head through your folds before tapping it against your clit a few times, making absolutely positive that you were relaxed enough. He positioned his head at your entrance, slowly pushing forward until his head popped into your welcoming hole.

“Stop.” You commanded, voice firm. His eyes widened in panic, freezing his movements.

“W-what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He rambled, fear in his tone.

“I’m okay Spencer, I just want you to stay like that until I say otherwise.” He could hear the amusement in your tone and although he was no longer concerned, confusion quickly replaced it.

“Why?” He questioned, apprehensively obeying your request.

“I’m just doing whatever I want, just like you asked me to. I want to see if you can resist your urges.” He was almost annoyed, knowing that this was another one of your power plays, but the shiver that ran up his spine told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

So he stayed there, wincing every time you clenched your pelvic muscles around his tip, trying to break him. You knew it wouldn’t work, he was the definition of obedient, but it was oh so fun to watch him squirm in anticipation. After a good five minutes you decided you’d had enough, ready to let him fill you.

“You are so deliciously pathetic.” You laughed lightly, pulling him down into a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips, his hand snaking up your stomach to grope your breast. Your nipple hardened against his palm, drawing a low moan from your throat.

“Move, Spencer.” You finally gave him permission, your hand tangling in his messy locks. He pushed further into you, his thick girth stretching your walls in a way that had you begging for more.

“So tight.” He moaned, pausing to just feel the way your pussy hugged him before pulling out and thrusting quickly back into you, his eyes shut tight in concentration.

“Look at me.” You moaned, needing to see the pleasure in his beautiful eyes. His eyelids fluttered open, catching your gaze as he found a steady rhythm inside of you. Each thrust of his hips made the filthiest sound, wet slapping skin mixing with both of your moans, his whines and whimpering music to your ears.

The pillow beneath you made for the perfect angle, allowing the veins on this cock to rub deliciously against your sweet spot. He grabbed the side of your face, his mouth practically devouring you as he swallowed your moans. When we pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips fell to your chest, and without hesitation he dipped his head down to lick it up, repeating your earlier actions as me marked your chest, working his way to your breasts.

He increased his speed, pumping in and out of you at an animalistic pace, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking hungrily. You threw your head back into the pillows, your hands finding his back and your acrylics digging into his delicate skin. You scratched up his back, surely drawing blood and for a split second you worried you’d taken it too far, until he moaned loudly against your chest.

“I’m gonna cum.” He panted, shifting so his face was above yours again. He looked to you for permission, but you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

“No, not until you beg for it.” You told him, digging your nails into his back again. He slowed his pace just slightly, his free hand finding your clit and rubbing quickly over it, hoping it would soften your conviction just a little.

“Please let me cum, I need it.” He weakly pleaded, his actions growing increasingly desperate.

“Come on baby, I know you can do better than that.” You encouraged him, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts. He whimpered, hanging his head for a moment to center himself.

“Please Mommy!” He groaned, watching your tits bounce with every thrust.

“Do it, fill up Mommy’s cunt Spencer.” You finally allowed him to let go, getting in a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered, his cock twitching and coating your walls with his warm cum. The feeling of his warmth deep inside coupled with his hand on your clit sent you over the edge, every nerve in your body on fire as the tension in your core dispersed through your body, the pleasure washing over you in waves.

When you both came down from your highs, Spencer collapsed face down on the bed next to you, his head turned to face you.

“I love you.” He whispered, half hoping he’d said it low enough that you hadn’t heard.

“I love you too, Spence.” You returned the favor, any fear he had immediately dissipating with the mutual confession.

——

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[zweigsangel]

gif credits

are we datin'? are we fuckin'? are we best friends? are we somethin'? in between that? i wish we never fucked, and i mean that. but not really, you say the nastiest shit in bed, and it’s fuckin’ awesome. childish gambino.

what were you and rafe? good question. you hated him, or at least, you thought you did. you despised him with every fiber of your being. but all that hatred evaporated the moment his cock was inside you, pushing deep inside your tight cunt as your bodies were pressed together. in those moments, everything else vanished—your thoughts, your anger, even your sense of self. it was as if the very act of being with him consumed you, burning away everything else until there was nothing left but the two of you.

he wasn’t just your best friend. he was more, and yet, somehow, so much less. because best friends don’t do what you and rafe did. they don’t kiss each other like you did, those bruising kisses that left you breathless and aching for more. they don’t touch each other like you did, his hands leaving a trail of heat wherever they went, as if he was branding you, claiming you as his own. and they don’t look at each other the way you and rafe did, eye-fucking each other from the corners or a room.

you’d always been close, too close, maybe, but there was a line you both knew shouldn’t be crossed. yet you crossed it, again and again, until that line blurred, then disappeared entirely. “who cares, a’ight? ‘m good, you’re good, fuck the rest.” he’d say, voice low and rough, whenever you hesitated, whenever that small, sane part of your mind screamed that this was wrong. and for a second, you’d want to pull away, to stop whatever twisted thing you two had become. but then, he’d look at you with his deep blue eyes, he’d pull you closer, his breath hot against your soft skin, his long fingers between your wet folds, and all those doubts, all those second thoughts, would melt away, leaving you with nothing but the need, the raw, aching need that only he could satisfy.

“it’s jus’ a casual thing. no feelings, nothin’ official. we just fuck, tha’s it.” those were his words, laid out so simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. that’s what you two had decided, or at least, that’s what he decided, and you went along with it. deep down, you knew you couldn’t say no to him, not when he looked at you with that calm confidence, the kind that made it clear he always got what he wanted.

you told yourself it didn’t matter, that you could handle it, that keeping your feelings out of it would be easy. but every time he touched you, every time his lips met yours, that resolve wavered. it wasn’t just the physical pull; it was the way he made you feel, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered in those stolen moments.

for you, it was never just casual. not when he’d rest his hand on the small of your back as you walked around together, a gesture so intimate it made your heart stutter. not when he’d let you lean your head on his shoulder, his fingers gently stroking your hair, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. it was never just casual when, at parties, he’d get jealous the moment another guy got too close, despite the fact that there weren’t supposed to be any feelings involved. “i’m jus’ protecting you. that’s what friends do, right?” he’d say, and you’d have to bite your tongue to keep from rolling your eyes right in front of him. and you, well, you never made a scene when you’d catch him in some dark corner with a random girl, their lips locked, because after all, “remember? no feelings.” you’d remind yourself, swallowing the bitterness that crept up your throat.

but the way he talked to you when you were together, when you were wrapped up in each other, told a different story. “your pussy was made f’me,” “so tight, fuck,” “you take my cock s’well,” he’d groan in your ear, and in those moments, it didn’t feel casual at all. it was in those words, in the way he touched you, that you could hear the truth he’d never admit to. but you buried that truth deep, because acknowledging it would mean confronting what you both pretended didn’t exist.

“don’t you think we could, y’know, make this official?” you asked him one day, your body still naked under the covers as you watched him get dressed. you’ll never forget the way he turned, the look in his eyes just before his anger flared up. “what the hell is wrong with you? we already decided what this was... all’f’this!” he shouted, throwing his arms up in frustration as his voice grew louder. you sat there on the bed, one hand clutching the blanket to cover yourself. “well, i just thought that after all this time, maybe we could give it a try!” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

but he didn’t let you finish. he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence that followed. and in that moment, you hated rafe cameron more than you ever had before. the hatred burned through you, sharper and more intense than anything you’d felt in all those months of pretending, of pushing down your feelings just to keep him close. the sting of his rejection was like a knife twisting in your chest, cutting deeper with every passing second.

he didn’t call for a while, and you didn’t either. you thought about blocking him, your finger hovering over the screen, but something held you back. you couldn’t explain why. perhaps you should have done it, cut him off before things got messy. but you didn’t. and then the late-night messages and calls started coming in, his voice slurred, stumbling over words. he was drunk, lost, reaching out to you in his most vulnerable moments. and every time, without fail, you answered.

“need you. s’much. ‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry. please," he mumbled, his breath ragged and you could hear sloppy, muffled sounds on the other end of the call. the phone call felt like a heavy, suffocating fog, the noise on the other end a disjointed symphony of desperation and self-pity. you despised yourself more than you despised him for falling for the same broken promises again, for allowing his slurred and drunken apologies to penetrate the defenses you'd built. after a long, painful pause, you replied, "come over," your voice trembling slightly as you spoke.

and he did, slipping through the bedroom window and collapsing onto you. his damp lips found your skin, your neck, jaw, your plump lips. the mingled stench of smoke and alcohol enveloping the room like a suffocating blanket. “missed you so much. missed your little pussy,” he slurred, his breath hot and uneven as he hovered over you. you gripped his shoulders tightly, the contact eliciting soft, desperate moans from your lips. every touch, every movement sent waves of sensation through you, as if he was the only one capable of making your feel like this, as if his cock was made to push deep into your sensitive spots. the intensity of the moment consumed you, blurring the lines between need and guilt.

and the morning after, as you laid beside him, the early light creeped through the window highlighting the features on his face. you were staring at him, as if you wanted to say something that had been festering in your mind. he caught your gaze and, sensing the weight of your silence, muttered with a touch of annoyance, “don’t even start with that bullshit.” he got up, gathering his clothes in a hasty manner, while you did the same, slipping on your panties and a loose shirt. “fuck you. i’m so stupid for letting you always have the upper hand,” you said, your voice laced with frustration. “maybe it would have been better if none of this had ever happened, if we’d never started fucking.” you couldn’t hide the mix of regret and anger in your words, each statement a reflection of the turbulent emotions that had been building up.

“oh okay. yeah, maybe,” he commented, rolling his eyes and turning his back to you, only to pivot back around and come closer to you. “wait, what? no, no, no,” he began, a strange, almost amused little smile spreading across his face. he lifted his arm, his hand gently brushing against your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “no one is like ya. no one talks to me like you do. fuck, i don’even know how to explain it,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

of course, you thought, the memories flashing vividly in your mind. because no one rode him like you did, his large hands gripping your hips tightly, his fingers digging into the flesh to guide your movements. up and down, up and down. “you’re so big,” you’d stammer, your sweaty forehead pressed against his shoulder, your manicured nails clawing at his back as you moaned. no one else knew the exact spots to touch him, your delicate hand stroking him from tip to base with just the right pressure. “just like that. fuck—” and you knew you were the only one who could make him moan like that, like a total slut in a porn. his head resting against the headboard of his bed as his fingers teased your breasts, circling your hardened nipples.

"you fill me so good," you’d whimper as he slid in and out of you against the door, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, your breath hitching as you clung to him. he was too impatient to make it to the bed, his need for you too overwhelming to wait. every movement was urgent, driven by a raw desire, the wooden door rattling slightly with each thrust.

and all those moments, all your words, your phrases, echoed in his mind as he looked at you, because he didn’t want it to end. the fear of things becoming serious was there, gnawing at him—he didn’t want that. but the fear of losing you, of losing the pleasure you brought him, was just as strong. "then i guess you'll have to find another bitch who makes you feel this way," you said, your voice sharp, cutting through the tension in the room.

"i know you don't want that. i know you too well by now," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as his tongue teased the sensitive skin of your earlobe. and just like that, he fucked the attitude out of you, because no matter how wrong it was, you couldn’t stay away from him. it was maddening—the way he knew exactly how to unravel you, to pull you back in when you were on the verge of walking away. you hated how easily he could do it, how his touch could make you forget all the reasons you should leave, but you were addicted to the feeling, to him.

[carpentvrs]

VICIOUS – Theodore Nott

pairing :: theodore nott x f!reader (implied Gryffindor!reader but never mentioned)

summary :: (enemies to lovers). when you and theo get paired up for the nightly prefect-patrols, the yearlong hatred between the two of you may come to an end. or not.

based on the song vicious by sabrina carpenter

warnings :: angst!! she/her pronouns, use of y/n & y/l/n (only a few times), lots of cursing, british, mentions of killing someone (not serious), smoking, drinking, typos probably, 4.1k words

a/n :: english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes and feel free to correct me! this is my first story published on tumblr so i’m a bit nervous. my requests are open, feel free to share your ideas and I’ll come up with something!!

„As a result of the ongoing danger in and outside of Hogwarts, the prefects will now walk around in pairs during their nightly patrols after curfew. And to show that Hogwarts and the witches and wizards attending this school stick together in such times, we have decided to pair up prefects from different houses.“

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you sat on your usual seats in the great hall as Professor McGonagall made the announcement. The boys and Mione didn’t really care about the announcement, considering none of them are prefects. Hermione at least listened to what the professor was saying, sometimes poking Ron in his arm to make him stop bickering and start listening, too.

You however, you didn’t take the news as easily as your friends.

Once you realized that being friends with Harry had its downsides, you started to appreciate the everyday repetitiveness. The homey things.

Ignoring the strength of the dark side in the wizarding world, you found comfort in the mornings at Hogwarts that were always the same. The fun you had at lunch with the boys and Hermione and the quidditch trainings and matches you could always look forward to.

It gave you a sense of normality in an abnormal world, just like your nightly patrols did.

Whatever may have happened during the day, you could overthink it during those few hours you had for yourself as you walked through the dark corridors of Hogwarts, occasionally greeting and having small talk with the other prefects or scolding the little amount of students you would catch sneaking around from time to time.

Those patrols were your way of coping with stress, wherever it may have come from. Usually school, or the cognition that Voldemort won’t be scared to lift his wand against you and your friends the next chance he gets, whenever that might be. Not very soon, you hoped.

𖤓 𖤓 𖤓

„They’ve got to be kidding! There’s no bloody way I can go on those patrols with this assholes every damn night.“

You were furious. Taking away your alone time was one thing, but pairing you with none other than Theodore Nott, the biggest dickhead to ever walk the corridors of Hogwarts, that just had to be a sick joke.

You hated his guts. You hated his manwhore-behavior and his obnoxious superior complex. He thinks he’s too good to attend any of his classes and simply uses his prefect-advantages to take points from Gryffindor students for fun. You doubted he knew what playing fair even meant.

Every damn house party, he somehow felt the need to judge either you outfit, you hair, your makeup or just anything else he can find to complain about. And as if that wasn’t enough, he loved taking advantage of your resentment towards hookup culture, never failing to somehow end up right next to you while one of the many girls who seem to be kissing the ground he walks on was hanging on his lips as if he’d remember her name tomorrow.

And don’t get started on quidditch. the amount of times you leave the pitch with at least a dozen new bruises just because of him almost makes it seem like having pushed him off his broom that one time wasn’t enough yet.

In comparison to you and Theo, Harry and Draco were just two puppies occasionally fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed animal first.

“Look- maybe it won’t be that bad, maybe you’ll even, I don’t know, start getting along?” Hermione tried to cheer you up, already knowing that “possibility” isn’t that probable.

“Oh come on Mione, Nott just has to look at Y/N and she basically explodes with anger. We have to be careful she doesn’t accidentally kill him one night.”

“Shut it, Weasley, this isn’t helping. I have to go and talk to professor McGonagall. Mione, come with me?” you asked.

“I’d love to, but curfew is about to start. I don’t wa-“

curfew only meant one thing: the nightly patrol

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

He was different than you thought. He wasn’t that bad. Not when you two were alone. A few months had gone by and, even though the first nights were a bit rough, you both managed to get along well. Really well, actually.

It became a wordless understanding that in the depths of the night, in the comfort of the quietness, when the only source of light in the castle were your wands and the lumos spell, you two weren’t hateful classmates. You were friends. Good friends even.

“I’m so tired, and why is this damn school still freezing cold at night? Bloody hell it’s june” you yawned. It was almost midnight and you and Theo had decided to sit down on one of the stairs. It’s been a long day and night, the younger students seemingly wanting to be outside during the warm summer nights. Understandibly so, you thought.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

He handed it over to you after pulling it off of his body, accidentally showing a tiny bit of his toned stomach. You couldn’t help but look, slightly biting your lip to hide your smile.

You happily accepted the offer and slowly pulled the jumper over your head, your stomach suddenly feeling warm and fuzzy when you smelt his cologne. You breathed in and mumbled a small “thanks” to be boy next to you.

It wasn’t the first time he had given you his jumper. And it also wasn’t the first time you’ve felt this fuzziness in your stomach because of him, and you knew what it meant.

And he felt it too.

Theo never liked you either. He hated your goody two-shoes behavior in front of the professors and the way you would scrunch your nose in disgust whenever you saw him smoking. Sometimes he lit his cigarettes near you just to annoy you.

It all started when in fourth year, you accidentally kicked him off his broom during a friendly quidditch match. He didn’t get seriously hurt, he just felt humiliated. Even worse, by you, a girl he had been convinced to dislike ever since you befriended Theo’s best friend’s sworn enemy, Harry.

You wanted to say sorry the next morning during breakfast, but he strutted away right after seeing you on your way over to him. He was mad at you for embarrassing him, and you found his behavior childish. You both would’ve sworn that this hatred was going to be endless. Until now.

And that scared him.

He couldn’t possibly fall for the girl he had despised all these years. It wouldn’t work anyway. Their houses, their families and their friends just wouldn’t allow it. And their egos wouldn’t either.

Who was Y/N to fall for someone who treated other girls so poorly? Someone who dared to call her best friend worthless and walk around in school he as if he was just better than her and her friends.

But in intimate moments like these, with your head gently placed on his shoulder and his warm jumper wrapped around your body, you both forgot. You forgot about you’re prejudices, about your friends and your families. It was just you two.

Sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. You doubted it.

As soon as the sun rises, the birds start singing and the castle starts awaking from its tranquil sleep, the peace between you two stopped. His smoking annoyed you. At parties he’d still sneak around with girls. After quidditch matches you’d be still fuming with anger.

Therefore you wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe in moments like these. Perfectly at peace.

Even though the feeling in your stomach when he looked at you or when you smelt his cologne was the same as always, tonight felt different. The usual comforting silence felt awkward and tense, like something that was yet to be said already made things harder.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Theo sighed.

“My friends would kill both of us if they saw us like this.”

“So what? I don’t care about you friends.” You scoffed. “I mean, they can’t know.” he said, almost in a whisper.

“Know what?” you asked as you slowly lifted your head from his shoulder and your eyes locked together. His gaze drifted from your eyes to your delicate lips and the air surrounding you was suddenly filled with a heavy tension and desire.

Your breath hitched and your whole body felt like it was on fire as he carefully started to caress your cheek. He leaned in and finally, his lips touched yours. The feeling of your soft lips on his slightly chapped ones was intoxicatin. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and in that exact moment, nothing else mattered.

All doubts you had suddenly left your mind, the only things you could think about being the feeling of his lips on yours, and the fact that you never want this to stop.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the kiss deepened and it went on like this until you both pulled away to catch your breaths.

And ater that kiss, everything changed.

For the worse

His gaze landed on your eyes once again. And as your expression softened, his became harder. And darker. And the eyes you found yourself lost in just seconds ago suddenly turned cold.

“Did I do so-“

“Give me my jumper. I want to go to bed.”

“What?” You huffed. He can’t be serious right now, right?

“Give it to me, Y/L/N. Our job here is done and I’m tired.”

You scoffed and quickly pulled the emerald green piece of clothing over your head, breathing in his scent for the last time that night. He snatched it out of your hands and left without another word, leaving you alone on the huge staircase, confused and upset.

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

The next morning was even weirder. Your friends had to basically drag you out of bed and once you were seated in your usual seat in the great hall, you just couldn’t stop trying to catch his eyes.

But he seemed rather…. busy. Either you were imagining things or Pansy Parkinson was currently seated on his lap. At breakfast. You frowned and slowly picked at your food with your fork, never taking a single bite.

“Y/N, I think that’s your owl!” Hermione said, the daily prophet in one hand, a teaspoon in the other to stirr her tea. Once the letter dropped onto your lap, you swiftly opened it before quickly patting the owl on its head as a goodbye.

“It’s from professor McGonagall”

“What does it say?” Harry asked, seemingly interested.

You squinted your eyes and Hermione immediately went to look over your shoulder, reading it too as you turned the letter to show her.

“It says that she took notice of my complaints about the pairing and that changes will follow quickly. But I never went to complain about it. And we also never talked about it in class.” You scoffed. The letter was clearly directed at you, and professor McGonagall wasn’t exactly known for making mistakes like sending letters to the wrong person.

Meaning, someone else must’ve told her.

“At least you don’t have to spend any more time with that snob.” Ron chimed in, chewing on his breakfast. You just nodded.

You stopped listening to the conversation as Hermione started to complain about Ron’s table manners and you let your mind wander back to Theo. It must’ve been him who somehow told McGonagall about your complaints. It wasn’t that hard to believe him, considering the professors already knew about the hateful relationship you and Theo had going on.

“I’m gonna go tell Alex, maybe I’ll get paired with her.” You said, getting up from your seat. The trio hummend and waved at you, already being used this.

It wasn’t the whole truth. Yes, if Theo wanted to be a bitch then you definitely wanted to be paired with Alex instead of anyone else. But she also was the only one who knew about you and Theo, and you definitely needed to update her on what’s going on currently. You didn’t dare to tell the Gryffindors, afraid of how they might react. Maybe cutting off contact with you wasn’t so stupid of him. But it was so vicious.

Alex and you have already been friends before you even received your Hogwarts letters. You confided in her with everything, hence she also knew what had been going on between you and Theo these past few months.

She waved you over when she saw you walking towards the Hufflepuff table, letter still in hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to sit down. You exchanged quick hellos, and then you began talking, sharing every so tiny detail about last night. And the letter. And the still ongoing situation he had with Pansy Parkinson on his lap, giggling about something he said. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. And he didn’t spare you a single look.

“That fucking twat! He can’t just kiss you and then pull shit like this! You should beet him up, honestly. Even better, kick him off his broom again.” Alex suggested, maybe a bit too loudly, as you were on you way towards potions. Breakfast had already ended and because you didn’t want to keep sitting where everybody could hear you, you decided to leave a bit earlier and take the longer way to the classroom.

“Yeah- I don’t know Lex, this is so weird. I used to hate him all this time and now- now I’m crying after him? This is so stupid”, you murmured, “maybe it’s better this way. Everything will go back to the way it was before and I’ll just- forget.”

But it didn’t go back to how it was before. He didn’t go back to calling you names. And whenever he saw you in hogsmead, he didn’t wait for you to cross paths to light his cigarette anymore like he usually did to annoy you. He just ignored you. And that frustrated you even more. Why couldn’t he just act normal? Why did he have to suddenly act as if you died? As if you just didn’t exist anymore? Why did he have to constantly remind you that something between you did change? How were you supposed to forget it about it like this?

Even in classes, when you dropped something, when you gave the wrong answer or when your potions turned into nothing more than a weird bubbling brown liquid and Snape scolded you for it, even when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone, he wouldn’t comment it. Draco would mock you. And Mattheo would laugh. Occasionally, if he saw you on your way out, Blaize would annoyingly remind you of whatever had happened in class. But Theo? He wouldn’t look. He wouldn’t react. He wouldn’t care.

But, to your luck, every last Saturday of the month, the students threw a party with all students from every house invited. Only if they were of age. The houses always took turns on whose common room the party will be held in, and July was Slytherin’s turn. Meaning Theo would definitely be there.

Originally, you didn’t want to act so petty. But you felt used after all these months of him pretending. So, there was only one thing you had to keep in mind for a few more weeks;

revenge is a dish best served cold.

And you managed. By now, you had already told Hermione about Theo and even though she didn’t like the thought of you and him at first, considering you spent lots of time together, it made sense. After all, she said it herself when you first got the message of having to go patrolling with him. Maybe you’d start getting along.

So, for the next party, Alex, Mione, and you came up with a tiny, harmless plan. You didn’t know if it would work because his ignorance towards you was still going strong, but it was worth a shot. And a little jealousy never hurt anyone anyway, right?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

You dressed up. You needed to break his façade one way or another. A tight-fitting, almost-too-short red dress and your favorite jewellery delicately hanging around your neck and wrists with a few rings around your fingers.

You weren’t overdressed, but you didn’t usually go to parties like this. You just went there to have fun with your friends, get drunk and take your mind off of things, never to catch anybody’s attention. You were beautiful dressed up or not, boys always tried to ask you out at those parties no matter what you were wearing, but you always nicely rejected.

Today, you wouldn’t.

After you finished off you makeup with mascara and lipgloss, you put on your heels and finally made your way over to the dungeons, Hermione and Alex right next to you. The boys went first, you assumed they’ve already had some drinks, so hopefully the vibe wouldn’t be too bad.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not.”

“He probably won’t even look at me, just like he did the whole past month” you sighed, suddenly not feeling as confident anymore.

“If you won’t catch his attention, then surely someone else’s.” Hermione tried to cheer you up once again. “And it’ll at least help you take your mind off of him.” Alex added.

They are right, you told yourself. Just go inside, drink something to calm your nerves, and don’t focus on him.

Easier said than done. The moment you stepped a foot inside the common room, decorated with green lamps and lights, dark leather sofas and with loud music beaming through your ears, your eyes immediately searched for him. He was sitting there, hidden in a dark corner with a ravenclaw girl all over him, but his eyes focused on you.

You locked eyes.

Your breath hitched.

Goosebumps formed all over your body.

You looked away.

Your eyes settled on Harry who was calling you over, a drink for you in his hand. You took it from him, ready to just enjoy yourself and have a good time. For now.

You were more than just tipsy, stumbling over your words and your own feet. Your feet started to hurt in your heels and the guy you’ve been flirting with started to annoy you. His hand was steady on your hip and his lips grazed your neck as he whispered things into your ear you couldn’t comprehend, mind way too hazed.

Meanwhile, Theo felt as though he was going fucking crazy. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried so hard not to think about you. He tried so hard to finally get you off his mind. To finally make these feelings for you disappear.

He was supposed to enjoy himself tonight. Make out with yet another girl and then forget about you completely. Some alcohol would help, wouldn’t it? But no, you just had to show up in that tiny fucking dress, showing off your legs for everyone to see. And as if that wasn’t enough, you let that guy’s hands and lips wander over your body as if you belonged to him. You’ve never done anything like this before. You never dressed up like this, and every bloke who ever came too close to you would be hushed away in a second and now you basically bathed in those boys’ attention.

He knew he wasn’t one to judge. Not when he acted the same exact way every single party he went to. But the way you wouldn’t react to his smoke, the fact your nose didn’t scrunch up like it usually would, the way all of your attention was on that guy and not on him, it made him fucking feral.

“Uhhhm you know, you- you look good and all, and we should reaaaaallyyyy continue this another time, but I need some fresh- fresh air right now, so I’ll go.” You hickupped, actually feeling like his weird perfume would suffocate you if you didn’t leave right fucking now.

“I’ll go with y-“

“Nono, don’t worry, I’ll- I’ll go alone.”

You hurried away, not wanting him to follow you. You needed to get out of this huge castle, go somewhere you could actually relax, because the alcohol, in fact, did not help and finally come to terms with the truth; Theo never once left your mind. And your plan sucked too, having achieved absolutely nothing.

You felt way too hot, the smell of that horrible perfume mixed with smoke and alcohol overstimulating your senses. Plus, your mind was racing. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? Tell you what he was thinking that night, tell you what made him lie to your professors about “your complaints”, tell you what fucking made him run away after such an intimate moment.

“Fuckfuckfuck these shoes are fucking killing me!” you whined once you reached the exit.

“Then take ‘em off”

Your eyes opened wide and the cold rain drops falling onto your skin one after one made you shiver.

And so did his voice.

You knew he was standing behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. You stared ahead into the nothingness until you felt his presence next to you, arms brushing against each other. His cologne and the fresh air cleared your mind, sobering you up slightly.

“What do you want, Nott?”

“We need to talk.”

“Finally grew a pair or what took you so long?”

Theo exhaled. He turned around to stand face-to-face with you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. And finally that night, you held his gaze. The tension was palpable and you couldn’t help but fiddle with your bracelets and necklace, feeling overwhelmed with the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Listen, I- I know what I did was stupid. And absolutely, in no way, was what I did okay. I just- I’ve kissed a lot of girls before, we both know that, but that kiss between us- it felt so different and t-“

“So you left? And ignored me? And lied to McGonagall? And proceeded to let a girl sit on your lap during fucking breakfast the next fucking morning? That’s a low bow even for you, Nott. Stop behaving like a slut and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“Oh and how did you behave tonight? You’re allowed and I’m not?” His voice was low, his head bending teasingly low towards yours, eyebrows raised, awaiting your reaction.

You scoffed and dodged his gaze. Guess your plan did work out. “Complaining, Nott? One bloke I flirt with and suddenly you’re after me again? Well maybe next time you should think before leaving me! Because, believe it or not, to one of us that kiss actually fucking meant somethi-“

“You seriously think it meant nothing to me?” He yelled, frustration growing in his eyes. “I left because I was scared of what our friends would think if they saw us together! I- I know it was stupid and I got unnecessarily rude after but I’ve never felt anything like that before and that,” he huffed, “I guess that scared me.”

“So when it’s me you care about others opinions, but when it’s that Ravenclaw, or Parkinson, or just any other girl, then you don’t?” You asked, acting as confident in front him as you could.

“For fucks sake, it’s because I like you Y/N, don’t you get it? I genuinely like you! I left ‘cause you’re not like those girls. ‘Cause you’re actually important to me!”

You pondered for a second, lowering your eyes to look at your heels instead of his face. Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest.

You looked up again.

Took a step forward.

And smashed your lips against his.

Your eyes closed as he didn’t waste any more to kiss you back and finally, you felt safe again. With that fuzzy and warm feeling in your stomach and his lips against yours.

“This dress looks so perfect on you.” His hands steadied on your waist, pushing you lightly against the wall. He kissed down your neck, your skin feeling hot. You began playing with his hair as your body relaxed under his touch. You didn’t care about the rain wiping off your makeup. Or about you clothes being absolutely drenched. Nothing mattered other than having him close to you.

“I like you too, Theo.”

His lips parted from your neck, instead he gave you a small peck on your lips, before embracing you in a tight hug, smiling into your hair.

And neither of you let go.

“You’re shivering, want my jumper?”

“Red doesn’t go well with green.”

“Nah, I think it does.”

last part makes more sense as gryffindor!reader but whatever, I hope you liked it!