#probably plain one is the best

[mariggu]

[journey-to-the-attic]

💃💃💃

lord help me i don't know how to arrange these pictures in post

[gratuiciel]

bad toman timeline + text posts

[sailforvalinor]

Idk if this is controversial, but studying for a English/writing degree at university shouldn’t make you NOT want to engage with writing or literature. Just a thought.

[qprstobin]

I know people love baking Steve but I think while he would be good at cooking he's not as good at baking. Cooking he can just say fuck it and throw whatever he has on hand in a pot sometimes for a stew or gets gifted fun spices by neighbors that he can experiment with. He can play around with things in the kitchen esp if he's lazy or tired or having a bad head day but baking? Too precise too much math this is a strange science that is too tetchy for him he will stick to store bought mixes thank you

[orcelito]

Being asked to choose between akeshu and vashwood in that tumblr post is really quite mean of them

I chose vashwood by basis of tragedy bc. Oof ouch ow. I haven't even seen it all yet and yet it hurts. Stampede only fans wouldn't understand.

At least akechi has the potential of being alive lol. Can't say that with vashwood

[nessvn]

i regret not buying more rings from that little shop in zürii

[daddyricsdoll]

Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".

Warnings: not vanilla sex! fingering, oral (male receiving), bondage (hands tied together), spreader bar (if that even what it’s called), unprotected sex, rough because how else would you have it? Gagging and deep-throating Oscar’s huge dick 😩

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Oscar is the man who makes me wanna wake up in the morning and I love it!! I'm so obsessed with him it's making me go insane, but if I'm going insane it's fine because I'm going insane over him. Everything about him is beautiful and I wanna call him pretty and gorgeous and watch as he blushes. Then ride him and take control of him until he wants to teach me lesson and makes me pass out. (I’m just a girl) Based off of this request.

“Oscar, how would you say relationships outside of F1 have helped you grow in this sport as a driver and as a person. If they had an impact, and if not then why?” Oscar’s PR manager testing questions on him, posing as one of the many journalists trying to break Oscar’s wall that he’s been perfect at keeping up so far. He finds it amusing that they have so much interest in his life, only encouraging him to keep his words to a minimum. Well as long as you don’t come up– his cheeks immediately flush and he starts every sentence with “my girlfriend” before he looks at others and silently begs them to say something to shut him up.

“Well, everyone’s been supportive of my career. Which only makes me want to do my best, and better than that.” Keeping a straight face as he answers until he looks at you beside him then Lando with a proud grin on his face.

“Who’s everyone…? Your girlfriend?” Lando’s voice teases, like every schoolgirl talking about their friend's crush.

“I- yeah. She does a lot for me, helps me let off steam before and after races, she also-”

“Let off steam, huh? Is my Oscar making his girlfriend cum to let off steam?” Lando’s mouth wide open, making an ‘o’ shape. Both you and Oscar have mixed emotions– heat coursing through you remembering just this morning, but also shock from Lando’s unhinged question.

“You’d be surprised?” Oscar’s answer broad, but you knew. Letting Lando believe that Oscar lets you cum, when his favourite thing is edging you until tears roll down your face.

“Oscar, you probably just learnt what a clit is.” Lando having nothing better to do than tease him as his pale cheeks turn pink. 

“Believe whatever makes you happy.” Oscar shutting down the conversation before he reveals too much, a little smile on his lips as he chuckles and moves his hand further up your thigh.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

It wasn’t just Lando who would have a say about you and Oscar’s sexual life, but any driver who happened to walk into the conversation at the perfect time.

“Oh yeah, Oscar you’re vanilla.” His fellow Australian, Daniel Ricciardo, says. Joining them on their walk to wherever they all had to be next. 

“Well actually I think Oscar is a little more than vanilla. He’s vanilla but not vanilla.” Logan pops in too.

“No. Oscar is sooo vanilla. Like he’s too scared to choke his girlfriend because she’ll die and he’s never marked her so she knows she’s his.” Lando expresses his words with so much passion it makes Oscar roll his eyes but know exactly what Lando’s doing when their hotel rooms are beside each other and he’s invited a girl over. 

“Wow. Calm down Lando, I think we learnt a little bit more from you than Oscar. You definitely need a girlfriend.” Daniel spoke the words everyone was thinking. Letting Oscar finally breathe and have all the attention over to Lando and his desires.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

“Fuck, I needed you.” Oscar groans out, thrusting himself ever deeper into your mouth. “Talking ‘bout how vanilla we are. But look at us.” The position you were in was unimaginable. You lay on your back, head on the edge of the sofa as Oscar rammed into your mouth with his fingers opening you wide and making you cum. But still, that wasn’t enough, your hands tied together and a spreading bar made sure your legs couldn’t be shut, always ready for Oscar, but with a blindfold over your eyes how would you know? Each of your moans were muffled by his cock and as one of his hands played with your clit the other toyed with your nipple.

Blood rushed to your head from this position and it filled in for the loss of his hand around your neck. Oscar pounded into you, his dick making you gag as you deepthroated him. An explosion of fireworks inside of you as he continued making you cum, a loud scream trying it’s best to flee your puffy lips, but Oscar couldn’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle to make out any coherent sounds because of his cock. 

By now it was impossible to remember the amount of times he had made you release. From his mouth, fingers and dick, all you did know was that that number was only going to increase. 

Each of his moves were so intense, Oscar had you spellbound. Unable to notice anything other than him. Well that was until he pounded himself as deep as he could into your mouth and then stopped. Everything went silent.

“Oh fuck! Oscar?!” Those words certainly didn’t come out of your mouth, and when you realised who did say that, oh you couldn’t have been more embarrassed, but somehow aroused. Seconds later the door finally shut, and you could only think about the uncensored view Lando had of the both of you. 

“Fuck, I’ll deal with him later. But for now…you need to cum.” Pulling out of your swollen mouth and grabbing you off the couch to lay your shamelessly sinful body on the floor. Oscar doesn’t take his time, manhandling your legs so your feet are nearly inline with your head and then making your arms keep them back by going in front of the spreader bar.

Leaving your pussy so exposed and vulnerable that Oscar could do whatever he liked between those drenched folds. It was always a gamble with Oscar, sometimes he’d take his time to tease you, others he wouldn’t even give you time to catch breath. This was just as unpredictable as others, by now you would either be covered in your own tears from his edging or on the verge of passing out because you could feel him in your throat after coming in you repeatedly. 

You felt less of an advantage, not even being able to lay eyes on him, so you listened to your own heavy breathing until he touched you again. Fingers going between your folds and spreading them apart with his index and ring finger. Lightly teasing you with his middle one. “Looks like you’ve had enough today huh? Or can you take one more?” 

You nod your head as an answer, but it’s never enough as he asks you for words.

“Y-yes. I can take more.” You force out between breaths, in shock of how you even managed to say those words. 

“Oh really? Well that’s great.” Oscar holds your pliant body up even further and then makes a swift move of ramming himself deep inside of you. Once again it pulled all of the oxygen from your lungs and the stretch from the position couldn’t be compared to the stretch from his cock. You couldn’t complain as he thrusted in again and hit your g-spot. Bringing more tears to your red eyes.

Grunts and groans slipping past his lips and making his actions such a godly sensation. 

Oscar pounds himself into you with no mercy, finding pleasure in your moans and cries. You wish to hold him, dig your fingers into his shoulders and mark his back. Adorn his pale skin in love bites and make his lips swollen. Thinking about the way his body flexes with every thrust and how divine he would look from this position that you’ve been in many times but each new one has a different effect.

“What’d you think Lando’s telling them?” Oscar grips your thighs tighter–fingers certainly making bruises– keeping you in place as he vigorously rams inside of your overstimulated pussy. Never losing pattern or momentum.

“You think he’s telling them about how you took me so well? Your hands tied up? And how fucking good you looked between my legs.” Each of Oscar’s words having such an effect on you it could've been a trick of hypnotism. Your legs shaking and lips parted as you came. Oscar savoured the beautiful sounds leaving your mouth and he worked harder to fuck your high out and bring his in.

You clenched around him, forcing a moan to finally leave his lips and bless your ears. Oscar spasms and releases inside of you. Pushing himself so deep and his cum even deeper. He thrusts a few more times, easing both of you out and spreading his cum inside your walls. Oscar sits in you for a while before pulling out. “Fuck, that was so. Fucking. Good.” He starts untying you and helping you come undone from all of the restraints. Letting you lay flat on the floor as he did all the work.

“I would’ve been in you for hours if he didn’t come in. Can’t imagine what he said to them”

Oscar crawls up your body and plants a kiss on your lips. 

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Finally leaving Oscar’s room you both didn’t know what to expect. Well definitely not drivers surrounding a small table as Lando spoke to them all with hand actions and his face even worse. 

“Y’know vanilla isn’t even that bad. But wow Piastri, I didn’t think that.” Daniel brings all the attention to you two. Every driver turned their head with a series of reactions on their faces.

“You are freaky Oscar.” Logan couldn’t hold back and somehow Fernando was there to agree with him.

“I have to tell Charles! Now I know what you two do.” Pierre smirks, making you blush and look at the ground.

“Well I guess I was wrong, but Oscar why didn’t you tell me you sneaky boy. Because then I had to see it.” 

“It seemed like you wanted to join.” 

“No I-”

“The way you’re speaking about Lando, it seemed like you wanted to join.” Daniel once again kind of saving Oscar from these unfortunate topics.

“What? Guys this is about Oscar and how freaky he is with his girlfriend!”

“If you want to join, just ask.” You finally speak, teasing Lando and watching the way his face changes. 

“Oh you guys are so not vanilla!”

[the-hype-dragon]

I watched a very bad movie called Sharks of the Corn, and it got me really thinking about like, how do you know if something is just plain bad vs done in a particular style? because while I was watching it I was like, well this sort of reminds me of a Lynch or a Shyamalan movie, awkward "realistic" dialogue and lingering shots of mundane actions and all, but you know, you get the sense that it's deliberate on Lynch's or Shyamalan's parts because a movie they've directed will be consistently like that; and Sharks of the Corn switches from mundane dialogue presented realistically to action movie quips to zany buddy comedy skits with no regard for consistency, which I think it really needed to be able to consider it an intentional horror-comedy instead of a very clumsy parody of Jaws and John Carpenter movies

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 x reader (gender not mentioned/implied/specified); SYNOPSIS: Your first meeting with him was anthing but charming. Especially when he cornered you to the point, where you know you'll have no choice but to submit. TW. implied age gap, manipulation, threatening (?), red flag, power imbalance;

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"How can I help you, sir?"

"Be my sugar baby."

You blinked owlishly, trying to process what this customer said and if it was on the menu. When in fact it turned out that it isn't and you connected the words and their meaning, you were ready to burst out laughing.

He can't be serious.

Just by looking at him, you can tell he occupies a high position in some fancy corporation. You were even ready to bet that he was a CEO! It was a mystery itself why he was here, in a food chain restaurant in the first place. An enigma why he even said something like that to you, a plain worker who is pretty much opposite in every aspect one could think of.

He is handsome, you give him that. Probably older than you, since his face was more defined and mature. His suit, which you imagned to be tailor-made, colonge that was so strong you could smell it from behind the counter and all the expensive accesories (I mean look at his watch! Worth univesity tuition installment or two!) he had on were probably worth more than what you owned now.

But no, you aren't stupid. Sleep deprived, yes. Hungry, yes. Broke, also unfortunately, yes. But not stupid.

This man must be high then. No other sane and sober and filthy rich man would propose something like that to the (broke) food chain worker during the first meeting.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. He is still your client and you are fighting to be this employee of the month. You can already envision your photo hanging by the cashier and feel the additional money in your bank account. You won't lose your cool now.

Instead, you plastered your best fake smile.

"I'm afraid that's not on our menu sir. Do you fancy something else?"

The man chuckled, as if you told the best and poshest joke known to mankind. Your eyebrow twitched, yet your smile didn't budget.

Calm down...he is high...let him laugh...employee of the month...additional money...!

"You're more amusing than I thought." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Trust me sweetie, I love how you call me 'sir' but that doesn't change the fact that my request still stays. I want you to be my sugar baby."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, sir."

"Ho ho, everything is possible." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 hid his hands in the pocket of his pants. He was staring down at you, like you were the most interesting thing he saw in a long while. You began to feel uneasy and slightly curled into yourself. You didn't like how mischievous his smirk looked.

A beat of tense silence passed, before he spoke again.

"I won't back down, sweetie. You know, I've learned that when you really want something, you should fight for it till you'll achieve it. This situation is no different than a business. I provide you safety and money, while you agree to be mine and fulfill my (every) requests." He finished his speech with a smile worth a million dollars, showing off his pearly white and straight teeth.

"Sir -- "

"After all, you wouldn't want your current life to crumble, hm?" You froze when his expression became sinister and his voice lowered to the point of mocking. In your gut you began to feel dread. You knew this feeling bery well. It appears whenever you sense danger. Currently, this man in front of you was a person who you should be afraid of. One thing for sure, he wasn't lying when he said he can destroy you in a matter of one call.

Money rules the world.

"Your measly, little thing, who believes something will change. That it is just a stepping stone. But what if I make it your prison? Force you to be stuck here until you break under pressure? In the end, you'll still agree to be mine, sweetie. It depends on you if you want to suffer or not."

And destroy those who are too weak and gets crushed under its ruthless rule.

"This choice is yours." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 straightened his back and only now you realized he was holding a sheet of paper. "All you have to do is to sign this..."

You knew you have no choice.

"So pick carefully, sweetie."

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[stephobrien]

Is your pro-Palestine activism hurting innocent people? Here's how to avoid that.

Note: If you prefer plain text, you can read the plain text version here.

Over the last few days, I’ve had conversations with several Jewish people who told me how hurt and scared they are right now.

To my great regret, some of that pain came from a poorly-thought-out post of mine, which – while not ill-intentioned – WAS hurtful.

And a lot of it came from cruelty they’d experienced at the hands of people who claim to be advocating for Palestine, but are using the very real plight of innocent Palestinians to harm equally innocent Jewish people.

Y’all, we need to do better. (Yes, “we” definitely includes me; this is in no small part a “learn from my fail” post, and also a “making amends” post. Some of these are mistakes I’ve made in the past.)

So if you’re an advocate for Palestine who wants to make sure that your defense of one group of vulnerable people doesn’t harm another, here are some important things to do or keep in mind:

Ask yourself if you’re applying a standard to one group that you aren’t applying to another.

Would you want all white Americans or Canadians to be expelled from America or Canada?

Do you want all Jewish people to be expelled from Israel, as opposed to finding a way to live alongside Palestinian Arabs in peace?

If the answer to those two questions is different, ask yourself WHY.

Do you want to be held responsible for the actions of your nation’s army or government? No? Then don’t hold innocent Jewish people, or Israelis in general (whether Jewish or otherwise), responsible for the actions of the Israeli army and government.

On that subject, be wary of condemning all Israeli people for the actions of the IDF. Large-scale tactical decisions are made by the top brass. Service is compulsory, and very few can reasonably get out of service.

Blaming all Israelis for the military’s actions is like blaming all Vietnam vets for the horrors in Vietnam. They’re not calling the shots. They aren’t Nazis running concentration camps. They are carrying out military operations that SHOULD be criticized.

And do not compare them or ANY JEWISH PERSON to Nazis in general. It is Jewish cultural trauma and not outsiders’ to use against them.

Don’t infuse legitimate criticism with antisemitism.

By all means, spread the word about the crimes committed by the Israeli army and government, and the complicity of their allies. Criticize the people responsible for committing and enabling atrocities.

But if you imply that they’re committing those crimes because they’re Jewish, or because Jewish people have special privileges, then you’re straying into antisemitic territory.

Criticize the crime, not the group. If you believe that collective punishment is wrong, don’t do it yourself.

And do your best to use words that apply directly to the situation, rather than the historical terms for situations with similar features. For example, use “segregation,” “oppression,” or “subjugation,” not “Holocaust” or “Jim Crow.” These other historical events are not the cultural property of Jews OR Palestinians, but also have their own nuances and struggles and historical contexts.

Also, blaming other world events on Jewish people or making Jewish people associated with them (for instance, some people falsely blame Jewish people for the African slave trade) is a key feature of how antisemitism functions.

Please, by all means, be specific and detailed in your critiques. But keep them focused on the current political actors – not other peoples’ or nations’ political or cultural histories and traumas.

Be prepared to accept criticism.

You probably already know that society is infused with a wide array of bigotries, and that people growing up in that environment tend to absorb those beliefs without even realizing it. Antisemitism is no exception.

What that means is, there’s a very real chance that you will screw up, and get called out on it, as I so recently did.

If that happens, please be willing to learn and adapt. If you can educate yourself about the suffering and needs of Palestinians, you can do the same for Jewish people.

Understand that the people you hurt aren’t obligated to baby you. Give them room to be angry.

After I made a post that inadvertently hurt people, some were nice about it, and others weren’t. Some outright insulted my morals and intelligence.

And I had to accept that I’d earned that from them.

I’d hurt them, and they weren’t obligated to be more careful with my feelings than I had been with theirs.

They weren’t obligated to forgive me, trust me, or stop being mad at me right away.

I’ll admit, there were moments when I got defensive. I shouldn’t have. And I encourage you to try not to, if you screw up and hurt people.

I know that’s hard, but it’s important. Getting defensive only tells people you care more about doubling down on your mistake than you do about healing the hurt it caused.

Instead, acknowledge that they have a right to be angry, apologize for the way you hurt them, and try to make amends, while understanding that they don’t owe you trust or forgiveness.

Be aware that some antisemites are using legitimate complaints to “Trojan horse” antisemitism into leftist spaces.

This is a really easy stumbling block to trip over, because most people probably don’t look at every post a creator makes before sharing the one they’re looking at right now.

I recently shared a video that called out some of the Likud and IDF’s atrocities and hypocrisy, and that also noted that many Jewish people are wonderful members of their communities.

I was later informed that, while that video in particular seemed reasonable, the creator behind it is frequently antisemitic.

I deleted the post, and blocked the creator. I encourage you to do the same if it’s brought to your attention that you’ve been ‘Trojan horse’d.

EDIT: Important note about antisemitism in leftist spaces:

While it's true that some blatant antisemites are using seemingly reasonable posts to get their foot in the door of leftist spaces, it's also true that a lot of antisemitism already exists inside those spaces.

This antisemitism is often dressed up in progressive-sounding language, but nonetheless singles Jewish people and places out in ways that aren't applied equally to other groups, or that label Jewish people in ways that portray them as acceptable targets.

If you want to see some specific examples, so you can have a better idea of what to keep an eye out for, I suggest reading this excellent reblog of this post.

Fact-check your doubts about antisemitism.

Depending on which parts of the internet you look at, you’ve probably seen people accused of antisemitism because they complained about the Likud and/or IDF’s actions. So you might be primed to be wary, or feel unsure of how to tell what counts as real antisemitism.

But that doesn’t mean antisemitism isn’t a very real, widespread, and harmful problem. And it doesn’t mean many or even most Jewish people are lying to you or being overly sensitive.

So if someone says something is antisemitic, and you aren’t sure, I encourage you to:

A. Look up the action or thing in question, including its history. Is there an antisemitic history or connotation you aren’t aware of? For best results, include “antisemitic” in your search query, in quotes.

B. Understand that some things, while not inherently antisemitic, have been used by antisemites often enough that Jewish people are understandably wary of them. Schrodinger’s antisemitism, if you will.

C. Ask Jewish people WHO HAVE OFFERED TO HELP EDUCATE YOU. Emphasis on WHO HAVE OFFERED. Random Jewish people aren��t obligated to give you their time and emotional energy, or to educate you – especially on subjects that are scary or painful for them.

@edenfenixblogs has kindly offered her inbox to those who are genuinely trying to learn and do better, and I’ve found her to be very kind, patient, reasonable, and fair-minded.

Understand that this is URGENTLY NEEDED.

In one of my conversations with a Jewish person who’d called me out, they said this was the most productive conversation they’d had with a person with a Palestinian flag in their profile.

THIS IS NOT OKAY.

I didn’t do anything special. All I did was listen, apologize for my mistakes, and learn.

Yes, it feels good to be acknowledged. But I feel like I’ve been praised for peeing IN the toilet, instead of beside it.

Apologizing, learning, and making amends after you hurt people shouldn’t be “the most reasonable thing I’ve heard from a person with a Palestinian flag pfp.”

It should be BASIC DECENCY.

And the fact that it’s apparently so uncommon should tell you how much unnecessary stress and fear Jewish people have been living with because of people who consider themselves defenders of human rights.

By all means, be angry at the Likud, the IDF, and the politicians, reporters, and specific media outlets who choose to enable and cover up for them.

But direct that anger toward the people who deserve it and are in a position to do something about it, not random people who simply happen to be Jewish, or who don’t want millions of people to be turned into refugees when less violent methods of achieving freedom and rights for Palestinians are available.

Stop peeing beside the toilet, people.

[lyneira]

♡ may I have your attention, please? ♡

-> how the genshin men would try to impress you

They would try to impress you through..

Strength

Itto, Childe, Wriothesley

Would try to impress you with physical displays of strength and show his battle prowess. He'd do this because 1) he's a show-off (more so Itto and Childe), and 2) he would want to show how capable he is of defending you, and let you know that you won't have to worry about anything while he's around.

Maybe if you're also into fighting, he'll challenge you to a duel. It'd be his sneaky way of getting close and up front with you, hehe. You might even end up impressing him with your own skills 😌

(I see Itto and Childe being the type to try to flex at any given opportunity for you, intending that you'll drool over his muscles LMAO)

Being smooth with his words

Kaeya, Heizou, Lyney

Will try to fluster you and will do so using smooth lines. He'll take special note of what gets a smile out of you, a little laugh from you, and especially a blush from you. Thus, he'll attempt to initiate a conversation and form his words in ways that will have you doing all three the entire time. He hopes he can make you feel some type of way and let you know that YOU make HIM feel some type of way too ;)

Knowledge

Alhaitham, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Dainsleif, Ayato

Similar to the previous category, they'll try to capture your heart in conversation, but they wouldn't even intend to be impressive. They simply have pure interest in you and would love to stimulate both of your minds with a good conversation.

More importantly, he'd be able to gain more knowledge about you and, therefore, feel closer to you. He'd keep track of nearly every single thing you've said, so don't be surprised when he brings up that incredibly tiny detail you briefly mentioned in conversations before. It'll be proof of his attentiveness and deep focus on you because he's so down bad for you

After all, while he may be an expert on many subjects, the subject that he strives to become the greatest expert on is you.

Little gifts

Xiao, Scaramouche, Diluc, Gorou, Albedo

They'd prefer to show that you've caught their interest through little, thoughtful gifts. I see these guys as being a bit on the reserved and quiet side. So instead of using their words to display their affection for you, they'd much rather give you gifts, in hopes that you'll understand how much you mean to them.

Specifcally, for example, I see Albedo giving you pictures he drew of beautiful landscapes that you've both seen on walks together or maybe draw cute little creatures for you to play with

I see Xiao or Gorou giving you flowers that you've mentioned you loved. He just so happened to find them as he was out, scouting the area (he actually looked everywhere for them).

Scaramouche and Diluc would probably give you practical things that he also 'happened to find around'. "I heard you needed this", he'd mutter as he handed you a rare artifact or material that you had been looking for that could have only been found in the most dangerous areas.

And every one of them would absolutely melt inside each time they see your face light up with pure joy when you receive their gift. That expression would be the gift you gave them in return, which is why they ensured to keep giving you these tiny gifts

Jokes

CYNO

A special category for him because I JUST KNOW that he'd try to capture your heart through jokes. You know what they say: "Laughter is the best medicine" (and you're the medicine to his heart). Therefore, he'd spend all day just to come up with the best jokes he can. Although they might not always land, he'd be the happiest guy if he could still receive a small laugh or a smile from you for his efforts or for just how plain silly his joke was. (Please laugh at at least one of them, he's trying his best)

Song

Venti, Kazuha

Another special category for these two!

Venti would probably sing ballads for you to get your attention. He might even compose a ballad about you, and within it, he'd describe your traits with affection, and will subtly confess his own feelings within the lyrics.

Kazuha would play his little leaf flute for you. He'd play the most beautiful melodies he knew. He would try to play anything you liked and would basically be your own personal jukebox. If he didn't know a certain tune you wanted to hear, he'd be glad to learn it from you. Maybe you would hum the tune a bit, and he would try to match the pitches. I personally think he'd love doing making music with you, and the same would go for poems, too. He would adore creating haikus and poems with you, as well as creating them FOR you

Sharing passions

Thoma, Baizhu, Tighnari, Kaveh

If there was anything in common you two loved, he would invest in it for sure, knowing that it captivated both of you. It would be a fun and delightful way of getting to know one another better.

On the other hand, if you two didn't share a common interest, then there was no problem either. He would be delighted to learn more about yours. After all, he'd want to know what makes you happy, and hopefully become another source of happiness for you. And he would be over the moon for you if you asked him the same, asking him to teach you about what he loves. (Which means you have to teach him more about YOU)

He'd want to create a strong bond with you through this and hopes that it'll become something even more eventually.

a/n: apologies for the silly commentary throughout this. I was in a goofy mood while writing, teehee

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Love and Care.

Pairing: Yandere!Clark Kent x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 4.0k.

Commissioned by the very lovely @distortedhumor.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Prolonged Captivity + Kidnapping, Spanking, Psychological/Physical Abuse, Slight Infantilization, and Delusional Behavior.

You were going to freeze to death.

That was – if you didn’t die of dehydration, first. You really weren’t sure which was supposed to work faster; thirst or exposure, the acidic dryness crawling up the back of your throat or the slow, numbing chill spreading up from your toes, your fingertips. You didn’t have to worry about hunger – even if you could feel something sharp and hollow gnawing at the pit of your stomach. You remembered reading somewhere that it took longer than a month for someone to starve to death, even if it was hard to believe that when it felt like you were on the verge of collapsing into yourself.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t been prepared. Admittedly, it’d been an impulsive thing to do, the half-baked result of a door left unlocked and the daunting awareness that you had at least twelve hours before you so much as heard from Clark again, if not the full twenty-four. You didn’t have shoes more durable than house-slippers and the delicate, lovingly polished, Mary Jane heels he liked to see you in, but you’d put on your thickest dress, stuffed a bottle of water and a few slices of homemade bread into knapsack, and started walking into the lifeless, rolling plains that surrounded the rustic farmhouse he kept you in. You didn’t run – he always seemed to know if your heart rate spiked– but you had all day to walk until you found a road, or a phone booth, or anything else that could at least remind you that other people existed. You figured you’d come across something eventually, even if you couldn’t find the help you were looking for.

Except, you’d underestimated just how cold the countryside could get in autumn, and you hadn’t thought to ration your meager supplies until after they’d already run out, and as far as you could tell, he’d found the most vacant, lifeless, desolate corner of the world to trap you within. The hem of your skirt was caked with mud and dust, your knapsack had been left behind entirely after you realized there was no point in carrying and empty bag, and one of your heels had broken off about two miles back – leaving you reduced to a slow, hobbling limp. Your body was exhausted beyond exhaustion, but you couldn’t imagine a world where you stopped walking. The only thing worse than knowing you were going to freeze to death in the middle of nowhere would be knowing that you’d just laid down and accepted it, and if you’d been willing to do that, you wouldn’t have run away at—

Your foot caught on a dense patch of undergrowth, and too tired to catch yourself, you crumpled – your knees hitting the earth with enough force to make you whimper. The last of your perseverance crashed and shattered as soon as you hit the ground, and before you could so much as try to stand up, you fell apart completely. You felt the tears before you realized you were crying – just one, at first, then another, then more than you could ever hope to count. You threw your head forward, sniffling miserably as you collapsed onto your side. You were going to die out here, but…

But, that was probably for the best, wasn’t it? It was either die out here, or die in that lonely farmhouse when Clark finally lost his temper or the roof collapsed or the ‘villains’ he was also so worried about finally did their job and put you out of your fucking misery. With a full-fledged sob, you curled into yourself and clenched your eyes shut, and—

And of course, less than a full second later, you felt a pair of muscle-bound arms your crumpled form, sweeping you off the ground and dragging you into a broad chest. You were too weak to meaningfully resist, but still, you tried to writhe and nudge yourself out of his iron-clad hold to little success. He was already talking, too. Great. On the ranked list of things you might’ve wanted to hear immediately after accepting your own mortality, your kidnapper’s nervous babbling didn’t crack the top hundred.

As if that had ever stopped him before.

“—and I thought you’d gotten hurt, and your pulse sounded so far away, and— and I don’t know what I would’ve done if it’d taken me any longer to find you.” You tuned in mid-rambling, trying to swallow your agitation. He was bent over you, his face buried in your hair, giving his voice an unsteady, muffled quality. For the world’s strongest man, he was quick to fall apart whenever he thought you so much as might be in danger. You couldn’t really judge him for that, though. You fell apart whenever he wasn’t around, too, and you didn’t care about him at all. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? There’s a hospital about fifty miles away, I can—”

“I’m fine,” you cut in, your hands shoving at his forearm where it was barred over your waist. With an airy sigh, he repositioned you – letting you fall into a proper bridal-carry rather a fully-body tackle. You noticed, for the first time, that his feet weren’t touching the ground. He was levitating, a nervous habit that that back into too often to keep track of. He must’ve genuinely thought you were in danger. More importantly, he must’ve known there was no one around to see him doing something so obviously superhuman. “Just a little cold. I‘m sorry for worrying you.”

Another sigh, this one more genuine than the last. For the first time, he drew back, and you were able to see him properly. He must’ve come straight from Metropolis; he was still wearing the suit you’d seen him in that morning, his hair slightly disheveled and his glasses shoved haphazardly into his shirt pocket. You tried to breathe, not to be thankful for how quickly his inhuman warmth was ebbing away the harsher edges of your hypothermia, and for the most part, you succeeded. You felt his lips brush against your cheek, then the corner of your jaw – Clark as affectionate as he was paranoid. “Poor thing,” he muttered, haphazardly shrugging off the jacket of his suit and draping it over your shoulders. “We’ll have to get you warmed up once we get home.”

Despite yourself, you stiffened. It was over - you knew that. He caught you, and even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to go on much longer. You knew that.

And yet, you held yourself that much tighter as you asked, “…do we have to go home right away?”

Clark’s smile softened; his expression slackening is a patronizingly sympathetic sort of way. He didn’t need to answer, not really, but you still cringed when he inevitably did. “Of course, dear.” And then, with another kiss to your forehead. “How else can I keep you safe?”

You might’ve been nicer than him, after all. Rather than respond, you bowed your head and tucked yourself against his chest, shutting your eyes and blocking him out entirely. Clark only hummed in acknowledgement, flying that much higher and taking you home.

~

It took an embarrassingly short time to reach the farmhouse – less than a full minute, if that. It wasn’t what you deserved, but it was what you needed: a reminder that you were trying to run away from someone who didn’t have to run at all to keep up with you. Trying to escape on your own was pointless. You’d either have to find another way to get away from him or give up entirely.

Despite your constant squirming, Clark only put you down once you were inside (meaning, once the front door was locked and deadbolted with you securely trapped behind it), and you stumbled to your feet, still on the verge of collapsing. He let you struggle through all of two steps before taking you by the hand and, with that award-winning smile, guiding you through the farmhouse. “A warm bath should do the trick. Some tea, too – or coffee, to keep your blood flowing.” His eyes flickered down to the mud-caked hem of your dress, your ruined shoes. “It’s a pity. I know that’s one of your favorites.” He paused, squeezed your hand. “We’ll have to pick out another together. Maybe tomorrow, before I leave for work.”

You bit the side of your tongue, nodding along absently and letting him ramble. When you passed the staircase leading to the second floor, to your bedroom, you started to move towards it, but Clark only continued further into the house.

“Uh, Clark?” You dragged your feet as he pulled you into the kitchen. “I— Um, tea sounds nice, but I’d really like to change, first, and—”

“In a few minutes.” Another infuriating smile, another squeeze to your hand. “Do you remember what happens when you break one of our rules?”

You felt something in your throat tighten. You’d managed to forget, but it came back quickly enough. “I do, but— I was out there for a few hours, and I can’t really feel my—”

“We’ll take care of that in a few minutes, love.” He was already moving towards the kitchen table, your hand still trapped in his. “We should get this over with now.”

Trying to argue would��ve been useless. You did your best to grit your teeth, to brace yourself, but your vision still blurred as he finally released you, settling into one of the simple wooden chairs. You crossed your arms over your chest, but it did little to put a barrier between you and his prying gaze. “Do you want to undress yourself? Or, do you need my help?”

Shaking your head, you fumbled with the buttons lining the back of your dress. Usually, you could manage on your own, but your hands were still numb, and you were fighting back tears, and Clark only watched you struggle for a few seconds before motioning for you to come closer. Soon enough, cotton and lace pooled uselessly at your feet, leaving you all-but entirely exposed in front of him. You didn’t need to be told to take off your shoes, kicking them into the depressing pile of fabric that used to be your favorite dress, but when it came to your panties, you hesitated, glancing toward Clark with a pleading look. “All of it,” he confirmed, with a tone bordering on apologetic. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As if that would make you feel any better.

You sucked in a deep breath, then eased your panties down to your ankles. You’d been wearing one of your nicer pairs – white and silken, with a lace trim around the edges and a ribbon bow that was just slightly too big to be entirely inconspicuous. They were one of Clark’s favorites, even if you doubted you’d ever hear him admit something crude out loud. You could only hope you’d never see them again.

You kept your eyes on the floor as he took you by the waist and with as much effort as it might’ve taken to move a doll from one shelf to another, lifted you up and laid you over his lap. His thighs bit into your stomach as a hand found its way to the small of your back, rubbing slow circles into the base of your spine. “We’re only going to do fifteen, alright?” It wasn’t really a question, so you didn’t bother pretending you were going to answer. Clark didn’t seem to need you to. “And you know I’m doing this because I love you, right?”

That, you couldn’t get out of so easily.

“I know,” you mumbled, because that was what would upset him the least. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.”

He didn’t make a sound. You wondered if he’d heard you at all, at least until the flat of his palm came down on the plush of your ass and immediately, it was impossible to think about anything at all.

It was a small mercy that he didn’t make you count. It was something he’d tried early on, the first couple of times you‘d thrown a chair through a window or stolen his phone or hoarded weapons underneath the mattress of your shared bed, but you’d never really been able to hold yourself together long enough for anything like that. You broke down too quickly, too easily – fuck, you were breaking down right now and he’d only hit you once. You could already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, a knot welling up in the back of your throat that only seemed to let little, pitiful whimpers and miserable sobs slip by. You tried to steel yourself, to bite back any signs of weakness, but that only meant you’d forgotten to brace yourself for the second strike – just as bad as the first, centered more towards the back of your thigh than your ass. He was trying to spread the pain, to make sure any marks he left wouldn’t be permanent. He was trying to be gentle.

It was scarier than it should’ve been – knowing that he really did care about you. You couldn’t call it ‘love’, not really, not if you still wanted to be able to live with yourself, but he had to care about you, at least enough to pay some amount of mind to your well-being, at least enough for you to be sure he didn’t hate you (although, some days, you could still be convinced otherwise). He didn’t love you, but he thought he did, and the fact that he could earnestly believe he loved you and still treat you like this made you very, very afraid of what could happen if he ever changed his mind.

By the third strike, you were crying unabashedly, and by the sixth, your hands were clamped around his thigh, your nails biting into his skin in less of an attempt to hurt him and more of a desperate scramble for any kind of stability he had to offer. It was all force, no friction – a bruising, throbbing type of pain quickly spreading outward from every part of your body unfortunate enough to be under his palm. You couldn’t seem to talk, but Clark didn’t have an issue, pausing after every blow to rub circles into your bruised skin and mutter to himself. You couldn’t imagine he still thought he was talking to you. “I just worry about how you’d manage things, out there, all on your own,” he explained, his tone cloyingly sweet. Like he was talking to a child, too naïve to know any better. Like he could still expect you to believe there was anything in the world more dangerous than him. “You know I’ll always keep you safe, but I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s easier for both of us if you just—” A pause, an airy chuckle. “—if you just stay out of trouble.”

You’d lived in the city for years and never gotten into trouble, not before meeting him. Saying that felt pointless, though, especially when he was already moving onto the seventh.

Fifteen was a terrible number. If there’d been twenty or more, you might’ve been able to go numb by the time he finished, and ten or less would’ve given you a chance to preserve at least some of your dignity. At fifteen, though, the pain was still intense enough to be blistering, and you couldn’t seem to choke down your own keening sobs as Clark brought down his hand for the final blow – using just a little more force than he really had to, making sure the lesson would stick for the next couple of days, if not the next couple of weeks. He was strict, like that, despite how tender-hearted he pretended to be. If he wasn’t, you would’ve acted out more often.

You had to believe you’d act out more often.

You were still limp and crying when his arm wrapped around your waist and with a raspy, adoring sound, he sat you up – letting you straddle one of his thighs. Whatever relief you might’ve felt at the end of your punishment was immediately overshadowed by the pale, reddish tint spread visibly across his face, the feeling of something too large and too stiff pressing into your leg where it fell between his. Clark didn’t acknowledge it, though, and you were happy to follow his lead, melting into his hands as he cupped your face, basking in his happily provided comfort. There was a shallow exhale as he tilted your head back, pressing another lingering kiss into your forehead, before dipping lower – falling immediately to your neck. You let his lips make contact with your throat before sniffling and shifting in his lap. “Hurts, Clark,” you murmured, doing your best to make your voice that of something small and in need. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but… can we go upstairs, first?”

That was enough to snap him out of it. “Right. Of course.” There was one last peck to your collarbone before he pulled you into his arms, any thought of letting you walk on your own prematurely dismissed. You tried to go blank as he trailed through the farmhouse, not to focus on anything but the pain and your exhaustion, but your gaze seemed to catch on everything you didn’t want to see – the bowl of dough still rising on the kitchen counter, the torn dress-shirt you’d planned on mending today, a dozen tiny things that all drove their own little needles into the pit of your stomach. In Clark’s defense, the housewife shtick hadn’t been his idea, but you couldn’t say he was entirely blameless, either. When you were left trapped and alone, given nothing to do and no way to occupy your time, there was only so long you could last before resorting to household chores. It was just a happy coincidence that the byproducts of your captivity were practically identical to the kind of sugar-sweet, domestic behavior that’d always seemed to melt his heart, back when your relationship wasn’t so insidious.

At least the bathroom was warm. Still too unsteady to be trusted to walk on your own, you sat on the vanity while Clark ran a bath, staring at your hands absentmindedly as the steam started to ebb at the chill. When the tub was nearly full, he helped you into it, more than happy to make it seem like you couldn’t so much as move without his help – which, in his defense, you really couldn’t. As you sunk into the scorching water, you made a mental note not to let him touch you at all tomorrow. You doubted it would be enough to fix the damage tonight had done, but it’d be better than letting him coddle you half-to-death.

Surprisingly, Clark didn’t hover over you for very long. “I think I promised you something to drink,” he explained as he moved to the doorway, his smile suddenly sheepish. Like he had any right to be shy about what he’d done to you. “I’ll be back in a second – unless you think you’ll need a hand?”

You hesitated, but shook your head. “’m fine. I just need some time to think.”

“Not too long.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes prying into you for a second, then another before he turned away. “I think we should be careful about what gets into your pretty little head, for the next few days.”

And just like that, you were left alone. For the first time since he’d brought you home, you let yourself relax. The hot water momentarily dulled the pain, but without the agony to distract you, humiliation quickly took its place. You shouldn’t have let Clark take you back so easily – that only gave him more leeway to treat you like some naïve, fragile object he’d been tasked with looking after. You shouldn’t have taken your punishment so quietly, even if you doubted clawing at his legs and thrashing would’ve actually accomplished anything beyond salvaging your pride. You shouldn’t have run away at all, not if it meant triggering Clark’s paranoia, not if it reminded Clark that you’d still take any chance you saw to get away from him. You’d have to be smarter about it, if you ever to escape tried again.

(You did your best to ignore that, a few months about, the same sentiment would’ve been followed by ‘when you inevitably tried again’. You weren’t superhuman. You didn’t always have the strength to be so delusionaly optimistic.)

When Clark did return, he was blissfully quiet and careful to keep his distance, sitting on the edge of the tub while you haphazardly washed the dust out of your hair and scrubbed the mud from your skin. Even after the water had gone cold and you’d managed to struggle to your feet, his touch remained fleeting, ginger as he bundled you in a towel and lifted you into his arms – his sudden distance no excuse to treat you like a living, breathing, capable person, apparently.

You didn’t have the energy to be frustrated. Exhausted and beaten down, you closed your eyes and rested your head against his chest, only stirring slightly when you felt Clark lower you onto a quilt-padded bed. You started to sit up, but the feeling of a hand laying over your hip was enough to stop you. When you opened your eyes, you found Clark, still standing, still staring down at you with that dazed, lovesick smile. “It’s really amazing, how someone like me could ever end up with someone like you.” He dipped lower, his lips finding the side of your throat. There was no pretense of innocent affection, this time, just his mouth on the side of your neck, his teeth ghosting over your skin. His voice was stifled by proximity, but mournfully audible. “I love you. I’m always going to love you. You know that, right?”

“I... I do.” You sounded hoarse, weak – more so than you would’ve liked. Clark nipped playfully at your collarbone, nearly breaking the skin. “I know you’ve been waiting, but—”

“Guess I’m just that impatient, when it comes to you.” There was an airy chuckle, a glint to his smile, but neither were very comforting. Again, you made an attempt to flee, and again, he found a way to keep you where you were – his hands curling around your thighs as he eased your legs apart. There was a hollow thud of body against floorboardas he fell to his knees, as he pressed yet another open-mouthed kiss into the inside of your thigh. “I just can’t help it. You make it hard for me to think straight.”

Not that he was trying to. You opened your mouth, trying to think of something that could distract him, that could convince him you just couldn’t do this, but he’d latch onto your cunt before you could spit anything out – the flat of his tongue running over your entrance while his nose ground into your clit. With your ass still blistered from your punishment and your nerves still on-edge from the cold, that was all it took for you to bolt upward – your hands automatically finding their way to his hair in a desperate attempt to pry him off of you. Of course, he didn’t budge, and of course, when he did glance up, he did it with that lovestruck expression that you’d never been able to stand. That you never wanted to see again.

That you just couldn’t seem to wipe off of his fucking face.

“Clark,” you whined, his name fractured and mangled on your tongue. “Please, I— It hurts, and I’m so tired, and I just—” You cut yourself off, swallowing harshly and trying to catch your breath. “Please, don’t.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your heart skipped a beat, hope swelling in your chest. He melted into your palm, grinning like an idiot. “You can relax. I promise, I’ll be gentle.”

And just like that, you felt something deep in your chest crack open and shatter.

The next time he bowed his head, burying himself between your thighs, you didn’t bother trying to stop him.

You didn’t do anything at all.

[theostrophywife]

devil eyes.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: devil eyes by hippie sabotage.

author's note: this spicy fic is in collaboration with my darling @writingsbychlo. make sure you check out hide and seek. we've been scheming for weeks and i'm so happy to finally share this fun little story with all of you. keep an eye out for some cheeky cameos 👀

The cardinal rule of Gryffindor House was plain and simple—never ever make a bet with the Weasley twins. 

Anyone stupid enough to do so either found themselves out a pocketful of galleons or worse, owing Fred and George a no questions asked favour that the pesky redheads could cash in at any time. 

Unfortunately, you were a little more than tipsy off of a bottle of firewhisky and bet one of the twins, Fred? George?—you couldn’t remember which ginger you’d sold your soul to—that you could easily outfly him on the pitch during a quidditch after party. After a violent hangover, the annoying git actually showed up outside of your dorm with a Firebolt in each hand. 

“Let’s see those skills in action then, Y/N.” 

On a normal day, you might’ve managed it. You were smaller and lighter than Fred, which gave you an advantage in flight, but as your head pounded and your stomach churned, you knew there was no way you were getting on that bloody broom. Though your house motto was all about being bold and brave, you weren’t reckless enough to risk it. 

Instead, you settled for a favour. 

In hindsight, you probably should’ve just stuck to death by eating shit on the quidditch pitch. It would’ve been a hell of a lot better than trying to squeeze yourself into a stupid tiny little costume that bordered on exotic dancer more than scary witch, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. You had a debt to settle. Fred made sure to remind you of that.

While the rest of your housemates headed to the Forbidden Forest, you were busy preparing for the vital role that your ginger overlords had assigned to you for the night. Since it was Fred and George’s last year, the twins were determined to solidify their status as Hogwarts legends. What better way to leave their mark than throwing a huge rager in the forest? Thus, the All Hallow’s Eve Fest was born. 

As far as your professors knew, it would be a small festival to celebrate the season complete with carnival games, enchanted rides, and cornfield mazes. All harmless fun. But the student body knew that the Weasley twins had something far more devious up their sleeves. 

From what Fred told you, the night would be full of secret passages, elaborate tricks, and actors and actresses who would add to the whole allure. You were to be one of them. Tonight, you were playing the part of a seductive sorceress who ripped out the hearts of unsuspecting men. 

You were practically made for the role, Fred joked. 

You threatened to resort to method acting and grabbed at the front of his shirt with every intent to rip his heart out of his chest. Luckily for him, George came to his rescue and tore his twin from your grasp before you could inflict damage. 

“See you at the Forbidden Forest at seven sharp,” Fred called as he tossed the costume at you. “Don’t be late, Y/N!” 

At half past six, you almost considered skipping the event altogether, but that would mean owing the twins yet another favour. It was best to get this over with as quickly as possible. Sighing, you tugged on some fishnet tights and slipped into a pair of high-heeled boots that laced all the way up to your thighs. You placed a hand on your hip, frowning at your reflection in the mirror of the prefect’s bathroom. 

“Are you trying to scare the masses or seduce them?” 

You turned around to find your friend Chloe perched up against the sink, smirking as she raised a brow at you. 

“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” you said as you snatched her tube of lipstick and painted your lips with a fiery red shade. “Know any men who wouldn’t mind having their hearts ripped out?” 

She chuckled, swinging her legs in the air. “A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first. Save the curly one for me, though.” 

“You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase of yours, then?” 

Chloe smirked and blew on her freshly painted nails. “He’s got until midnight to find me.” 

“What happens when the clock strikes twelve?” 

“Let’s just say that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house’s name and let him slither in.” 

“At least one of us is having fun tonight.” 

“Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.” 

You smirked in the mirror as you put on the final piece of the costume. The gold mask fit perfectly over your eyes and truly completed the sinister seductive sorceress part that Fred cast you as tonight. 

“I like the way you think.” 

The promise of mischief and chaos helped to put a little pep in your step as you and Chloe parted ways. You didn’t even recognize the Forbidden Forest as you stepped foot into the haunted woods. There were colourful tents set up all around the clearing, some containing mirrored mazes and others promised fortunes readings. The combination of red lights and creepy fog gave the demented looking carnival an eerie feel. As much as you hated to admit it, the twins have really outdone themselves tonight. 

After running through the spell that conjured a hyper realistic heart that you’d be ripping out of unsuspecting victims all night, Fred directed you towards the east side of the forest. 

“Remember, it’s not a good night unless someone’s pissed themselves out of fear,” Fred reminded you for the thousandth time. 

“You’re a sadist, Forge.” 

Fred placed a hand over his heart. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Y/N.” 

“Piss off, yeah?” 

He chuckled. “I’d tell you to act scary, but you’ve got that down pat.” Fred cocked his head, examining your costume. “Although, would it kill you to show a little more leg?” 

“It won’t kill me, but I might kill you.” 

Fortunately for Fred, George plucked his twin away from your murderous clutches to start greeting their guests. By the time it was half past seven, the clearing was full of your fellow students. Despite your initial reluctance, scaring the absolute piss out of people was actually a lot of fun. As Fred predicted, you had a natural talent for it. 

The first group that wandered into your neck of the woods consisted of your fellow housemates. Dean and Seamus led the pack while Ron and Harry followed close behind. The Chosen One was as pale as Peeves. Weasley, on the other hand, looked as though he might vomit at any moment. Leading the rear, Hermione shook her head and marched forward. Neville matched her pace as he nervously darted through the twisted roots choking up the forest floor. 

You waited until their group passed through the twisted willow tree before jumping out. Dean screamed in surprise while Seamus scrambled away from you. Thanks to Fred’s little trick, your hand went right through Finnigan’s shirt which caused him to shriek in terror. With a twisted smile, you yanked the hyper realistic heart out of his chest and cackled in delight. 

At the sight of the beating organ in your hands, Neville nearly passed out. Dean hauled Seamus to his feet while Ron and Harry hightailed it out of there. Hermione chuckled, shaking her head at the boys. 

“Well, they lasted longer than I thought they would,” she said. “Stuck out here for the night, Y/N?” 

“Unfortunately,” you replied as you vanished the dry blood with a quick spell. “Anyone you want me to scare the absolute wits out of tonight, Mione?” 

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I don’t have any scores to settle.” You nodded, wishing her a good rest of the night. 

Hermione bid you the same and started to follow the direction that the boys fled to. Before she disappeared through the thicket, a familiar, drawling voice called her back. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the golden girl.” 

Draco Malfoy appeared in the clearing. There was skull makeup on his face, but the shock of platinum blonde hair gave away his identity almost instantly. He stalked towards Hermione with that arrogant aristocratic smirk, completely oblivious that you were lurking in the dark. 

“All alone in the woods, little lion?”

Hermione’s gaze flickered towards you. A smile curved against her lips as her honey eyes glimmered with mischief. “On second thought…” 

The golden girl hadn’t even finished the rest of her sentence before you yanked Draco by the wrist and pushed him up against the weeping willow. The blonde blinked, his silver eyes full of surprise and terror as you raked your nails along the column of his throat. The red varnish looked like blood against his pale skin.

“All alone in the woods, little serpent?” 

Draco steeled himself. “And who are you supposed to be?” 

You smirked. “I’ll be whoever you want, darling.” Malfoy shivered as you pressed a palm against his chest. He leaned into your touch, his heart beating erratically underneath your fingertips. For Godric’s sake, he was truly making this way too easy. “As long as you give me your heart.” 

Never in his life had Draco Malfoy looked so terrified. The colour drained from his face as you reached through his perfectly tailored button down shirt, fingers slipping through the expensive silk material. You laughed maniacally and caressed his cheek. 

“Brace yourself, sweetheart. This might hurt a bit.” 

Without warning, you yanked his heart out of his chest. Draco stared in utter horror as blood dripped from your fingertips. The tell-tale heart pounded in your palm,  the mess of flesh and tissue covering your arm with carnage. To Malfoy’s credit, he didn’t scream or flee like your housemates. Instead, the Slytherin appeared rather impressed. 

“The spell work’s not bad.” Draco said with a smirk. He lifted your palm and examined the heart. “A word of advice, though. I would’ve turned the heart black. It would’ve been more realistic.” 

Just as you rolled your eyes, a deep, husky voice pulled your attention away from the blonde. 

“Who even knew Draco Malfoy had a heart?” 

You turned to find a gathering of serpents in the clearing. They were all wearing matching skull makeup, but you could clearly tell who each male was. The gang of Slytherins were pretty infamous and easily recognizable. The curly headed one had to be Mattheo Riddle. His gaze darted through the trees as though he expected someone to appear out of the thick fog. You had to hand it to her, Chloe had the Slytherin eating right out of her hand. 

The one beside him stood a little bit taller and though his face was smeared in the same white and black paint, there was no mistaking Enzo Berkshire’s lopsided grin and soft hazel eyes. Flanking either side of him was Blaize Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, the it-couple of your year, which only left one other serpent to account for. The male that had spoken earlier had to be none other than Theodore Nott. 

You turned your attention back to him, squinting in the faint light as he prowled towards you. Theodore was considerably taller than the rest of his friends, but not in the awkward scrawny way that most boys his age were. He was slim yet strong, sculpted by years of playing quidditch. The makeup only accentuated his high cheekbones and his ridiculously sharp jawline, but it was his eyes—those dead, cold eyes that had half the school swooning over him that gave you pause. 

Theodore grinned as you released your hold on Draco. He cocked his head, arrogance and swagger radiating off of him in waves as his eyes roamed your body. There was something unsettling about his gaze—Theodore’s eyes were neither green nor blue, but rather some undiscovered shade that reminded you of watercolours bleeding into each other. 

The manner in which he ogled you was shameless. He drank in your tight corset, the fishnet tights, and the thigh high boots like you were a painting on the walls of a gallery, pinned up for his viewing pleasure. You held your head high, completely undeterred by his stare. Besides, two could play that game. 

You schooled your features into indifference. “Who are you supposed to be? The Pumpkin King?” 

Theodore flashed you a charming smile that you had no doubt made the rest of the student population swoon. “I’ll be your Jack if you agree to be my Sally, sweetheart.” 

As slowly as possible, you dragged your gaze from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Theodore smirked as you surveyed him just as he had done to you a few moments ago. Staying true to his Slytherin roots, Theodore wore a black suit and matching freshly pressed trousers, but the silk shirt underneath was maroon—Gryffindor colours. Your house colours. 

“Brave of you to wear rival colours.” 

“I thought you’d be happy,” Theodore drawled. “Better to hide the blood when you rip my heart out, darling.” 

“You think I care about making a mess?” you said with a smirk. “That’s half of the fun.” 

Theodore flashed you a smile that spelled nothing but trouble. “Oh, I think you’re just my kind of witch.” 

“Oi, Notty boy! If you’re done flirting, we’re heading to the mirror maze.”

Blaise was regarded with a wave of dismissal. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” 

Hermione lingered by the edge of the clearing. She raised a brow in a silent question. You merely shrugged. Theodore Nott wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. 

“Give Longbottom my apologies, Mione. And a calming draught,” you added as an afterthought. “The poor bloke will need it.”

Your friend smiled. “Sure thing. Shall I tell the twins that you’re…indisposed?” 

“No, let my wardens sweat it out a bit.”

Hermione chuckled and waved you off. The rest of the Slytherins followed shortly after, leaving you alone with Theodore. You locked eyes for a moment before you spun on your heel and walked off in the opposite direction. The brunette stared after you in stunned silence before you looked over your shoulder and smirked at him. 

“Well, are you coming or not, Theodore?” 

The sounds of the leaves crunching below his boots indicated that Theodore had snapped out of his stupor and was catching up to you. He did so rather quickly, thanks to those long legs of his. One of his strides was equal to three of yours. It took little to no effort on his part before the two of you were walking side by side. 

“You know who I am, then?”

You shrugged. “It’s not hard to tell you and your cronies apart.” 

Theodore grinned lazily and cocked his head at you. He squinted against the faint light, no doubt trying to ascertain a hint of your identity from underneath the gold mask. 

“It hardly seems fair. You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are.”

You smirked at him. “I’m Sally, remember?” 

“Does that mean I’m your Jack?” 

“For the night, at least.”

He seemed content with that answer. “Where are we headed now, little witch?”

“The Graveyard.”

Theodore appeared slightly baffled, but brooked no argument as you led him through a thicket of trees. You chuckled at the sight of him following you blindly. “A strange girl just told you she was leading you to a graveyard and you didn’t even bat an eyelash. I thought you Slytherins were all about self-preservation?”

“I have no intention of preserving myself tonight,” Theodore drawled. “Feel free to ruin me, Sally.”

“I suppose you think you’re rather charming, don’t you Jack?”

“I don’t think, darling. I know.” 

You rolled your eyes and walked toward the lone tombstone in between the weeping willows. Theodore watched as you waved your wand and muttered an incantation. The ground rumbled beneath your feet, clearing the leaves until an ominous set of stairs appeared in front of the grave. 

Theodore peered over your shoulder. “I suppose you won’t be telling me what’s down there, will you Sally?” 

“Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll hold your hand in case you get scared.” 

It was meant to be a joke, but Theodore took the jest to heart and slipped his hand into yours. You smirked as you intertwined your fingers. If he thought a little hand holding would bother you, then Theodore had no idea what he was in for tonight. 

“Lead the way, love.”

You led him down the steps, plunging into darkness the lower you went. Theodore took the opportunity to press up behind you and kept a hand on your waist as the two of you descended. He was so close that the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with cigarette smoke assaulted your senses.  

A red hazy light flashed up ahead. The pounding music and excited chatter of your fellow classmates grew louder as you and Theodore were transported into the speakeasy. The bar was stocked with alcohol, shots and cocktails floating mid-air with themed drinks like Merlin’s Mourge-a-rita, Witches’ Brew, and Cauldron Colada. You hailed Parvati down who was apparently serving as the bartender tonight along with her twin sister. 

“We’ll take two El Diablos.” 

Theodore raised a brow, but didn’t protest as Parvati presented the shots in front of you. Your fellow housemate also floated a salt shaker and a bowl of limes on the counter. You sprinkled salt on the back of your hand and grabbed a lime wedge in preparation. Theodore did the same, minus the lime. 

“Bottoms up, Jack.” 

“Cheers, Sally.”

After licking the salt off of your hand, you clinked your glass against Theodore’s and knocked the drink back. The El Diablo certainly lived up to its name. The drink was a combination of tequila mixed with pepperup potion and topped off with a hint of cayenne. Needless to say, it had a bit of a kick. 

With a slight grimace, you bit down on the lime, which helped with the unpleasant aftertaste. Theodore caught your wrist and held your gaze as he directed your hand up to his mouth. He mimicked your move and sucked hard on the lime, his lips brushing your fingers as he licked the juice from where it had dribbled onto your palm. 

A shiver snaked down your spine. You may be a shameless flirt, but Theodore was definitely matching your energy. 

“I can’t believe the twins built a speakeasy down here,” Theodore said. He leaned in close so you could hear him over the music. “I’m almost impressed.” 

“I’ll tell my wardens you said that.” 

“You keep calling them that,” Theodore said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You wouldn’t mean that one of the weasels is your ball and chain in a literal sense, right?”

“Are you jealous, Jack?” 

He smirked. “I just want to know which twin I’m sending to the infirmary tonight.”

You chuckled. “I’m not dating Fred or George. I just owe them a favour. Speaking of which, I’ve got some men to scare. Be a good boy and wait for me here.”

Theodore shook his head. “Oh, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m yours for the night, remember?” He toyed with the laces on your corset and pulled you towards him, your breasts pressing against the hard muscles of his chest. “I have a proposition for you, little witch.”

You quirked a brow, which made Theodore chuckle darkly. “Not that kind of proposition, principessa.” He twirled the lace between his fingers. “I say we terrorise the student body together.” 

“You want to help me do my job?”

Theodore shrugged. “Why not? We can be partners in crime.” 

You cocked your head. It certainly would be more fun to have someone else partake in your chore. Curling your fingers around his maroon tie, you pulled Theodore down to your level. His gaze flickered to your mouth and you couldn’t help the thrill that buzzed in your veins as you watched him swallow thickly. 

“You’ve got a deal, Jack.” 

As it turns out, Theodore was an excellent partner in crime. The two of you concocted a rather effective formula to inflict fear upon your classmates. The Red Room soon became your hunting grounds. In the creepy blood soaked maze, Theodore chased groups through the enchanted room while you lurked in the shadows. As soon as they thought they were safe from skull face, the groups were then led right into your trap. 

You could hardly count the amount of people you scared shitless tonight. 

Eventually the two of you returned to the bar for more drinks. You ordered another round of shots, which Theodore accepted without question. By the time you were six shots deep, the tequila had annihilated any sense of personal space between you. Theodore leaned down to take a sip of your drink. 

“Trying to get me drunk, love?”

“That depends,” you quipped back. “How many drinks do I need to plie you with until you agree to dance?” 

“With you? I’d say yes while stone cold sober.”

You grinned. “Come on, then.”

Theodore allowed you to guide him away from the bar and into the throng of your fellow classmates. It was total debauchery out on the dance floor. The music pulsed seductively as bodies writhed to the hypnotic beat and the red light bathed the crowd in a sinister glow as the alcohol loosened both limbs and lips. 

The warmth of the tequila made you feel flushed, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Theodore’s hands on your waist. With your back pressed against his chest, you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. You rocked side to side and grinded against him, which caused his grip to tighten. Theodore’s fingers dug into your sides as you wrapped an arm around his neck and arched your back against his chest. 

His dark lashes fluttered as your lips brushed against the column of his throat. Theodore shuddered when you nipped at his skin. A low groan escaped his mouth as he tried to chase your lips, but you dropped low to the floor and left him in a daze. 

Theodore caught your wrist and pressed you flush against him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s not polite to tease?’ 

“Do I look like someone who gives a shit about being polite?” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You should know that I have a terrible habit of playing with my food.” 

Theodore smirked and fisted your hair between his fingers. “And you should know that I have no qualms about being toyed with. As long as you promise to devour me later, little witch.”

You brushed up against him and felt his hardness rub against you. “Cross my heart and hope to die. I’ll get my taste of you tonight.” He inhaled sharply as you tugged him down to you. His eyes fluttered, fully expecting a kiss. “But before that, would you be a dear and get me another drink? I’m absolutely parched.”

A pained expression dawned on his handsome features. Theodore was fully aware of the little cat and mouse game you were playing, but he seemed keen to play along. If only to please you. 

“You’re killing me, bella,” Theodore said with a sigh. He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek, a promise of what was to come. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, yeah?” 

“Don’t take too long,” you said with a wink. “I might get impatient.”

With that, Theodore hustled back to the bar. You chuckled at the sight. Your amusement only grew as Chloe approached. As soon as she was within reach, you tugged your friend onto the dancefloor. She happily obliged, the moves flowing naturally. The two of you were known to bring the whole house down at countless parties. 

“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?” 

“No, but he’s close.” Chloe shouted over the music, motioning to the bar where her boyfriend was currently standing. Mattheo, Theo, and Draco were talking in hushed whispers, looking rather serious. 

“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.”

The poor Slytherin was chasing after some unsuspecting blonde girl who looked a lot like Chloe from behind. A mischievous grin curved against her lips as she watched Theodore weave his way back to you, toting a drink in each hand. 

“Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” you replied with a coy smile. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.”

“My lips are sealed.” 

With a wink, Chloe slipped away just as Theodore returned. He handed you a drink and watched as you sipped it slowly. Theodore downed his cocktail in less than a minute and tossed his cup into the nearest trash can. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?” 

“You promised a taste.” 

You smirked, chugging the rest of your drink and wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. Theodore watched intently as you set the empty cup down. “Come and get it, then.”

The words had barely left your lips before Theodore kissed you. There wasn’t a hint of timidness in the way that his lips crashed against yours, a soft moan escaping his mouth as he tilted your chin up to gently bite down on your lower lip. You gasped when he nipped at you, leaving your mouth open for his tongue to slide into. 

The taste of him was intoxicating as he massaged your tongue against his, licking the roof of your mouth before he kissed you sloppily, open-mouthed and positively obscene despite the crowd dancing around you. What started out as a kiss turned into a full blown make out session in the middle of the dance floor. Neither one of you felt a hint of shame as you shared another filthy kiss. With a groan, Theodore’s hands roamed along your back and squeezed when he reached your ass. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

You smirked, already equipped with a salacious response when your gaze caught on the clock behind the bar. It was nearly midnight and the twins had instructed all the actors and actresses to gather in the main entrance for the grand finale. Fred and George would have a fit if they found out you had abandoned your post. The twats would probably demand another favour out of you. There was no way you were going to shackle yourself to the Weasleys a second time. 

“Shit,” you hissed under your breath. “It’s almost midnight. I have to get back.”

“I thought you were my Sally,” Theodore drawled. He looked slightly dazed, his curly hair dishevelled and his lips swollen from your kisses. “Not Cinderella.”

“I’m being serious, Nott. If I’m not back before the clock strikes twelve, I’ll have to owe the twins another favour.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you back in time. Besides, if we’re playing into this whole Cinderella fantasy then let’s skip to the good part and see if it fits and by it I mean me inside of you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. Before you knew it, you were dragging Theodore out of the speakeasy. The two of you climbed the steps three at a time, nearly tumbling over one another as you raced up the stairs. The woods were dark and foreboding, but provided plenty of cover for your illicit activities. 

You tugged Theodore along by his tie and he pressed you against an oak tree, the bark biting at your exposed skin. You were kissing again in no time and the sounds the two of you made were downright lewd. Theodore reached for your mask, but you swatted his hand away. 

“The mask stays on.” 

He smirked. “I didn’t think it was possible to get any harder, but you seem to be an overachiever.”

“I aim to please.” 

Theodore smirked against your neck as he hiked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. His hand wandered underneath your skirt and those deft fingers of his teased along your soaked core. 

“You’re so fucking wet, little witch.” You groaned as he plunged his fingers between your folds. “Such a pretty cunt too. Will you clench this tightly around my cock when I fuck you?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” you whispered huskily. 

A stream of curses fell from Theodore’s lips, but not in a language that you understood. Italian, perhaps. Whatever it was, it sounded sexy as hell. You unbuckled his belt and slipped your hand into his trousers, feeling his hard length twitch in response. A choked groan rumbled through his chest as you pumped him between your fingers. 

You swallowed thickly. Theodore was long and hard, his cock almost too big to fit inside of you. But you always did like a challenge. 

Those watercolour eyes that had been pinned on you all night turned positively dark. The strange blue and green shade that you had grown familiar with was now swallowed by darkness, leaving Theodore with a gaze that would’ve rivalled Medusa’s. You felt it searing into your skin as you sank down on his length, biting your lip as he stretched your walls. 

“Merda,” Theodore cursed. “So fucking tight. C’mon pretty girl, that’s it. I know you can take all of me.” 

You shuddered a breath as he pushed inside. Theodore watched with hungry eyes as you took him inch by inch. It seemed never ending. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. The stretch was an equal measure of pain and pleasure. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock and your pussy hugged around him as he throbbed inside of you. 

Theodore caressed your cheek. “It’s alright, little witch. I know you can take it. I’m yours, remember? Your partner-in-crime. So use me, dolcezza. You’re in charge tonight. Just set the pace and I’ll follow.”

The reassuring words encouraged you to slowly grind against him. Theodore hissed as you lifted your hips until only his tip was inside of you. His mouth was hot and needy against yours as you grinded down to take all of him again.

“Che cazzo,” Theodore murmured as he bottomed out.

The drag of his cock was delicious. He filled you to the hilt and pressed his hand on your stomach to feel his length buried deep inside of you. The tightness it caused made the both of you groan. You rolled your hips and set a steady pace, lowering onto his cock over and over again while you whimpered.

“Oh, fuck. It feels like you’re splitting me apart.”

Theodore groaned as he sucked and nipped at your neck. The heat of his tongue was everywhere, leaving marks on your skin in his wake. It would be a pain in the ass to cover, but you didn’t care as you continued to ride him.

“Salazar fucking save me, your pussy feels like heaven.”

Theodore chuckled darkly as you clenched around him. He untied the laces of your corset impatiently, freeing your breasts from the constraints. Theodore brushed his thumb over your hard nipples before taking one into his mouth. He watched with eager eyes as you moaned, sucking and swirling his tongue while you picked up the pace. 

“You look so pretty when you fuck me,” Theodore hummed as he flicked his tongue against your stiffened peaks. “Ride me harder, little witch. That’s it. Yeah, roll your hips just like that. Good girl.”

“Gods, I didn’t expect you to have such a filthy mouth,” you said with a low laugh. “You’re always so quiet in class.”

“So we have a class together,” Theodore said as he thrusted upwards to match your pace. “I thought you sounded familiar.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite grasp it. I guess I’ll just have to pay extra attention to all the Gryffindor girls in my classes.”

“I’m a Gryffindor? How do you figure that?”

“Besides your entire personality? You seemed friendly with Granger and though you complain about the twins, I’d wager that you’re mates as well.” 

“Smart and handsome,” you said with a smirk.  “You’re full of surprises aren’t you, Jack?” 

Theodore smirked and thrusted sharply inside of you. “You have no idea, Sally.”

“I thought I was in charge tonight,” you said in a stern voice. 

“You are, but I think you could use a little encouragement. You’re holding back.” 

You circled your hips before lifting them and slamming back down. Theodore’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

“Does it feel like I’m holding back?” 

“I’m a patient man, but if you keep toying with me like this I might just have to fuck that attitude right out of you, little witch.” 

You tilted your chin up and smirked. “So do it.” 

All that bravado left your body as Theodore rutted into you. He drove his cock deep within you, stretching your walls until you were clawing at his back. Theodore grunted as you squelched and squeezed around his length. His pace was relentless and punishing, guiding your hips to bounce on his cock while you moaned in pleasure. 

“Oh gods, right there.” You cried out, burying your face into his neck. 

You inhaled his scent greedily and sank your teeth into his flesh. Theodore slowed his pace and chuckled darkly when you whined. 

“What’s the matter, little witch? Can’t take a dose of your own medicine?” 

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered. “Keep going. I’m so close.” 

“Beg me, darling. Tell me how desperate you are. I want to hear those pretty little words.” 

Theodore halted his movements, his tip barely inside of you as he teased along your folds. He held your hips in place so you couldn’t sink down to take more of him. Usually, you were used to taking charge, but the way he put you in your place had you creaming all over him. Needless to say, you weren’t above begging at this point. 

“Please, I need you. Fuck me harder. Give me everything. I can take it. Every fucking inch.”

“Merda, you’re fucking filthy. Begging for my cock like a good little slut. Brace yourself, bella. Remember that you asked for this.”

A whimper fell from your lips as Theodore bucked into your cunt. His cock impaled you, splitting you apart and knocking the very breath from your lungs as he fucked you roughly against the tree. He squeezed your ass, keeping a firm grip to secure you in place as he jackknifed into you. 

“Oh gods,” you sobbed, raking your nails underneath his shirt and dragging red lines all along his back. Theodore hissed as you clawed at him, thrusting so hard that your teeth rattled every time he drove into you. “Fuck, it’s too much.” 

Theodore grabbed your chin harshly. “No, it’s not. You begged to be fucked, now take my cock like the perfect little whore I know that you are, yeah?”

You nodded. Words escaped you at the moment. The filth coming out of Theodore’s mouth aroused you in more ways than one. Who knew that the silent Slytherin fucked like a god?

A stray tear rolled down your cheek. Theodore licked it away and chuckled as you whimpered. “Are you crying, sweetheart? Such pretty little sobs. Don’t worry, you’ll get your reward. You’ve been such a good girl for me and good girls get to cum.”

At that, Theodore rubbed your clit and pushed you over the edge. His fingers were magic against your sensitive bundle of nerves and it wasn’t long before you were clenching around him, making his hips stutter as the orgasm blindsided you. A scream echoed through the woods and it was only when Theodore covered your mouth when you realised that the sound had come from you. 

“Fuck,” Theodore cursed, dropping his forehead to yours. “Merda, I’m not gonna last much longer. Not when that pretty pussy of yours is milking me dry. Oh gods, I’m gonna cum—“

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist as his body seized underneath you. Theodore bit into your flesh as he came, leaving a bruised purple mark on your collarbone. You had never seen anyone look as beautiful as he did when he lost control, lips parted, cheeks flushed, devil eyes rolling back as the orgasm thoroughly rocked him. 

The stillness that settled over the Forbidden Forest was almost eerie. The two of you looked at one another, dazed and confused as though you weren’t even sure who or where you were at the moment. Through all your romps, no one has ever put your body to the test like Theodore has. You could tell by his intense gaze that he likely felt the same. 

Theodore set you down gently. Compared to how rough he was a few moments ago, the contrast almost made you laugh. You heard the chime of the clock echo a beat later. 

Fuck. That only gave you a minute to sprint through the woods and make it back in time before the twins reached your clearing. You frantically re-tied your corset and straightened the skirts of your dress. Theodore was busy buckling his belt. 

“I have to go,” you said as you shrugged your robe back on. “I’ll see you around, Jack.”

“Wait, you never told me your name!” 

But Theodore was too late. You were already gone by the time he looked up. He sighed and started making his way back to the festivities. The last chime of the clock indicated that it was midnight. He could only hope that you’d gotten back in time. 

Theodore paused as something crunched underneath his feet. He peered down at the forest floor and found something golden peeking out amongst the leaves. With a smile, he picked up the golden mask. 

It looks like his mystery girl left him a clue after all. 

Theodore would find his Sally. 

He’d make sure of it. 

Theodore couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited to attend class. 

After the All Hallow’s Eve party, he’d done everything he could to dig up information on his mystery girl. Theodore had even gone as far as to interrogate the Weasley twins, but as usual, the redheaded menaces were unnecessarily difficult about it. 

“Sorry, mate, but we don’t reveal the identity of our actors and actresses,” George said with a shit-eating grin. 

Fred nodded in agreement. “Confidentiality and all that. We wouldn’t want to go around spilling trade secrets. It’s bad for business.”

The weasels stayed mum even after Theodore offered them a ridiculous amount of money to reveal his mystery girl’s identity. Unfortunately, his desperation only served to intrigue the twins and the sadistic little gits seemed to derive pleasure in seeing Theodore grow more and more frustrated. 

“Best of luck to you, Nott,” Fred said with a little smile. “If you do end up finding her, you’ll need all the fortune you can get. She’s a feisty thing, that one.” 

“I know,” Theodore said with a glare. “That’s exactly why I want to find her.”

George chuckled. “Godric bless your heart.”

If the twats weren’t his main weed suppliers, Theodore would’ve punched their teeth in. Despite Fred and George’s general uselessness, he was in a good mood when Monday rolled around. Equipped with the knowledge that his mystery girl was in one of his classes, he made sure to pay extra attention to every Gryffindor girl. It was only a matter of time before he found her. 

“You’re smiling,” Enzo commented as he caught up to Theodore in the courtyard. “What’s happened? Did my cousin fall down the moving stairs again?”

Theodore snorted. “Even better, Berkshire. I’m going to find my mystery girl today and you’re going to help me.”

“How?” 

“You’re friends with literally everyone. Someone has to know who she is.”

“Hmm, come to think of it Mattheo’s girlfriend is good friends with a lot of the Gryffindor girls. I bet she’d know who it is.” 

“Good, let’s start there. Where is Chloe anyways?” 

“Probably in the Great Hall with Mattheo.”

The two of them headed over to where the rest of the castle was currently having breakfast. Enzo made a beeline for their usual table where Mattheo, Blaise, and Draco were seated, but Thedore didn’t follow. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Chloe seated with a girl who looked vaguely familiar to him. Theodore was sure that you had Charms together. More than that, you were wearing a red and gold tie. A Gryffindor. 

Theodore inched closer, skirting around the edges to listen in on the conversation. 

“How was your weekend?” 

Theodore froze. He knew that voice. It was husky and seductive and sounded exactly like how his mystery girl had when she’d whispered in his ear. 

It was you. 

It had to be. 

“It was good,” Chloe responded with a grin. “Really good.” 

“Mattheo found you after all, then?” 

“He did and suffice to say he liked the second part of my costume more than the first.” 

You laughed in response. Chloe leaned in and lowered her voice. “What about you? You disappeared from the speakeasy, so I’m assuming I’m not the only one who had an eventful night.”

“It was fine.” 

“Just fine?” 

You flushed, biting your bottom lip. “It was the best lay of my life.” 

Theodore smirked. So it wasn’t just him, then. The sex had truly been something else entirely. He had been confident that you must’ve felt the same way in the moment, but doubt crept in since you’d run off so abruptly. Now he had confirmation and it was satisfying as hell to hear you say it. 

“There you are,” Enzo said from behind him. “I brought Mattheo, so we can ask Chloe about your mystery girl.”

“That little witch of yours really put a spell on you, huh, Nott?” Mattheo teased. “Let’s go, then. Maybe my girl can help.”

Chloe looked up and smiled as Mattheo leaned down to kiss her. You glanced up at the exact moment that Theodore came into view. He clocked the way your cheeks flushed as your gaze landed on him.

“You know my boyfriend,” Chloe said. You nodded at Mattheo who shot you a polite smile back. “That’s Enzo and Theo. Boys, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet the boys.” 

Theodore took your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles. “Hello, Sally.” 

You smiled back in return. “Hello, Jack.”

Chloe’s eyes widened, immediately taking stock of the situation. Mattheo and Enzo were slower to catch on, but luckily she ushered the boys away. 

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” 

You tried not to laugh as Chloe winked behind Theodore’s back. 

“I found you.” 

“So it seems.” 

“I guess you won’t be needing this anymore,” he said as he pulled out the golden mask from his backpack. Theodore’s intense gaze swept over you, cataloguing your features. 

“You kept it,” you said with a small smile. 

“I would’ve returned it sooner if you hadn’t left in such a haste after we—“

“Fucked in the woods?” 

You were amused to find Theodore blushing. “I was going to say hooked up, but I suppose that’s another way to put it. Anyways, you left in such a hurry. You didn’t even give me your name.”

“Didn’t really think you wanted me to stay.”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t been about to think about anything else since that night. You’ve taken over my thoughts. It’s fucking maddening.” Theodore caressed your cheek and tilted your chin so he could look at you better. “My mystery girl. You’re more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever imagined.” 

“Well, you have the real thing now. It’s your move, Jack.”

Theodore shook his head. “No, not Jack. Theo. That’s the name you’ll be screaming from now on. After I take you out on a proper date.”

You raised a brow. “What makes you think I’ll say yes?”

The devilish grin on his face sent shivers down your spine. “You’re really going to turn down the best lay of your life?” Your eyes widened, which made him smile even wider. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who can sneak up on people. So, what do you say?” 

“Pick me up at eight. Don’t be late, Theo.” 

Theodore winked. “It’s a date, Y/N.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar

[kleftiko]

❦ CAN’T GIVE IT TO ME

“your best friend has always been the person you turn to when times are tough. so when your shitty husband refuses to give you a baby, what else are you supposed to do?”

cw: infidelity, unprotected sex, cream pie, breeding kink, pussy eating, squirting

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

It was never a surprise when you made a stupid decision.

Sometimes, people thought you were purposely being an airhead, not paying attention, or being reckless in your life because Satoru was always there to fix things for you. It didn't stop him from letting you know his thoughts on your actions, but he was always there when you called.

When you married your husband, Satoru told you he didn't like him. Didn't think you married for a good reason, either.

Did you love your husband? Maybe. Maybe not. But you liked the freedom he gave you—credit cards and a house to yourself most days—while he was constantly away on business trips. You could spend your days spoiling your girlfriends on a shopping spree and your nights in expensive clubs.

You don't know when you began feeling lonely and bored, though. But one day, you started noticing mothers with their kids. playing in the park, shopping at the grocery store, and taking photos on vacation, and you began to think that maybe you wanted something else in life besides waking up hungover to an empty bed.

So when your husband got home that evening, tired and immediately pouring himself a drink, you proposed the idea. The look he gave you said it all, but he still told you no. He was a busy man; he didn't have time for a family, and you should know that.

It's not like he ever fucked you anyway; for most of your marriage, your orgasms and libido were taken care of by vibrators, dildos, and your best friend.

Which is why when your husband left the next day, you called over Satoru.

He never had to try to look good, showing up with a plain shirt, sweatpants, and those signature glasses. You, on the other hand, changed three times before he arrived, not being able to decide which outfit was going to help you get what you wanted. The formal dress was too much for daytime, the skirt was a bit too juvenile, and eventually you just decided on shorts and a tank top, loungewear that to anyone else would look like you were just having a day in, but the way the short fabric loosely covered your ass told a different story.

Satoru accepted the glass of red wine you offered when he walked in the door and took a seat at the kitchen table, spreading his legs casually as he took a sip.

"I want a baby." You told him straight up.

Satoru smiled as he looked at you over his glasses and said, "Nice. Congrats."

"With you," you clarified. He raised an eyebrow.

"Seems like something you should ask your husband," he said, nimble fingers playing with the neck of his wine. "I'm just here for the drinks."

You pouted, taking a seat in the chair beside him.

"Please, 'Toru?" you asked.

His eyes drifted down to your fingers as they trailed lightly over his thigh, knowing exactly what you were trying to do.

"And why would I help you?" He smiled lazily.

You got up and straddled his lap, setting down his glass of wine in favour of moving his arms around your body.

"You've helped me before." You whisper, and he nods casually, as if that was a good point.

You couldn't count the number of times Satoru let you use his fingers or sit on his face when you were needy. Or how many times you repaid him with your lips around his dick or riding his thigh. But no matter how many times he made you cum, he never gave in to your pleas to stretch your pussy on his thick cock. He refused to, as long as you were married. Was it right? Probably not, but Satoru had his rules.

And you've never minded the mind-numbing pleasure he would give you with his hands and mouth until now. Because now, what you wanted required something else of his that was previously off limits.

"I've helped you a lot of times, sweetheart." He sighed in defeat. "And you always ask for more."

You were confused, not understanding the meaning of his words until his fingers slid between your legs. With a soft gasp, you instinctively start grinding yourself onto his palm, forgetting what he was saying.

"I'm at your beck and call when you need my fingers or tongue," he said, letting you continue your ministrations. "And now you're asking me to fill your cunt and expect me to be okay with our kid calling your husband 'dad'?"

With a harsh press to your clit, you freeze, and a small whine escapes from your lips.

"You think that's fair, sweetheart?" He asked, eyeing you with contempt.

But instead of answering, you try to move your hips against his hand again for friction, only to get a harsh pinch to your thigh.

You yelped, but answered him. "No, it's not."

He seemed happy with your response and said, "What's in it for me?"

You furrowed your brows. In all the years you've known Satoru, he had never asked for anything in return; he always gives, gives, gives. There honestly wasn't any answer you could come up with. But when his long fingers started circling your heat again, making you melt, you asked.

"What do you want, 'Toru?"

He grinned at how easy you were and let you rest your head on his shoulder in response to his fingers. "Say you'll leave your husband, and I'll fill you up as much as you want."

You whined in response, but with your body rocking against his, breathing in his cologne, and hearing his husky voice in your ears, it didn't seem like a bad idea. So you nodded, light gasps dusting over his neck as you breathed out, "Okay."

Satoru's strong hands then left your pussy, but you didn't have a chance to complain when he grabbed the back of your thighs and stood up. When your head leaned back to look at him, you saw a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Good girl." His voice was low as he said, "Let's make you a mommy."

With that, he dropped you onto the table, the wine glasses shaking beside you as a result. Satoru dropped to his knees between your spread legs and reached for your shorts. Already wet with your slick, they stuck to your heat slightly as he slid them off, and you hissed at the feeling of the cool kitchen air against your pussy.

His breath grazed your thigh as he licked a harsh strip up your slit. Your body trembled as his tongue traced its way up, sending shivers of anticipation through your entire being. The dangerous look in his eyes intensified, fueling your desire for him. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself fully to his skilled touch. As his tongue continued its tantalizing journey, your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his movements. The intensity of him led you to grasp at his soft silver hair in an attempt to ground yourself, but he smacked your hand away.

"You're gonna feel everything I give you." His sunglasses were discarded, so you saw every emotion in his darkened eyes. "And you're gonna take it."

After you nodded quickly, Satoru wrapped his arms around your thighs, locking your cunt against his tongue as he devoured you. His careful mouth probed every inch of your sensitive folds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The way he smoothly flicked and sucked on your clit had you on the edge of ecstasy, unable to control the moans that escaped your lips. As his tongue delved deeper, you surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensations, losing yourself in the intoxicating bliss he was giving you.

In an attempt to warn him, you could only stutter out an, "g-g'nna."

But Satoru seemed to understand as his lips attached themselves to your bud, and one of his arms freed your legs so he could thrust his fingers inside your sloppy cunt. The combination of his skilled tongue and the added penetration sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust of his fingers matched the rhythm of his tongue, intensifying the pleasure and pushing you closer to the edge. As you reached the peak of ecstasy, your body convulsed uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the mind-blowing sensations he was delivering. You briefly understood your legs spamming as you painted Satoru's mouth with your cum.

It took a moment for you to calm down, your eyes opening to look at the ceiling as you realized your back was on the table. Unable to remember when you had laid down, let alone move your body on your own, Satoru pulled you to stand on your jelly legs.

His eyes held your gaze as he wiped his face and licked his lips clear of your cum. Before you could say anything, he gripped your hips, his wet hands sending shivers up your hot skin as he turned you around and pushed your stomach onto the table.

You looked over your shoulder at your best friend; his head was tilted back, eyes closed as he hissed in pleasure, the hand covered in your slick stroking his hard cock. The reminder of the fact that his dick was finally going to be inside you made you whine and wiggle your hips to gain his attention again.

Satoru looked down at you with a smile.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm right here." He lined himself up with your hole. "I'll fuck a baby into you," he whispered before slowly pushing himself inside you.

The sensation of him filling you up sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you moan and bend your back in response.

"T-'Toru..." You drawled, unable to think of anything else, as he stretched you open.

"That's it, baby, remember who's gonna breed this cunt for you." He hissed.

Your mind became consumed with the overwhelming pleasure as Satoru continued to thrust deeper into you. Every movement he made intensified the sensations, leaving you completely lost in the moment. The sounds of his grunts harmonizing with skin slapping against skin filled the room, adding to the urgency of the experience.

Your eyes locked on one of the wine glasses beside you. The table rocking with Satoru's harsh thrusts caused the silverware to fall over, staining the beautiful tablecloth beneath your face. You don't know why, but the physical reminder of how hard Satoru was going inside you made you moan. The combination of the sensory overload and the unexpected disruption heightened the raw passion between you and Satoru. As your moans echoed in the room, you realized that every element of this encounter was pushing you both towards an adrenaline-filled climax.

"Sa-Satoru—please!" You babbled incoherently as he slapped against you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips.

"Fuck!" He groaned. "You're gonna look so hot pregnant with my baby."

Your pleas only fueled Satoru's desire, intensifying his thrusts as he whispered dirty promises about knocking you up in your ear. The intense connection between you both grew, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each moment, it became clear that this intimate encounter would forever be etched in not only your memory but also your life. And it turned you on so much more.

"You gonna great your husband today with your pussy filled with my cum?" You whined at his dirty talk. "S'it gonna drip down your legs when you tell him it's over?"

You don't know why, but the reminder of the fact that Satoru wasn't your husband was what did it for you. You came to the realization that it wasn't your husband fucking a baby into you, but your best friend. This forbidden affair intensified the pleasure and excitement coursing through your veins, causing you to clench impossibly tighter around Satoru's cock.

He groaned loudly at that, folding his body over yours as he reached his own orgasm.

"You're all mine now, sweetheart." He whispered into your ear as his cum shot into your cunt, filling you up better than you could've hoped for. The intensity of the moment left you breathless as you lay there, sweat clinging to your forehead as the scent of wine and sex filled your senses. You whimpered pathetically when Satoru slipped out of you and crouched down to watch the globs of his cum drip out of your pussy with each clench around nothing. Your trembling legs couldn't stop him when he scooped up the slick and pushed it back into you with a dissatisfied hum.

"Don't think it stuck, sweetheart." He sighed. "Might need to fill you again."