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Dancing With the Devil
A Vampire!Rhys x Reader Fic (because I am a SLUT for him) based on this post.
Content Warnings: Smut and blood, you know, typical vampire things.
___________________________
How you ended up on the dance floor in the middle of the Velaris Estate, being spun in dizzying circles by masked males as stringed instruments swell on a phantom wind, is anybody's guess. You think it might have been Nesta’s idea, but whatever schemes landed you in this dark, shadowy world is lost under the swell of music and rustling of skirts. You’re sure your friend is here somewhere, dancing her heart out, but the bodies clustered around you in a sea of dark lace and velvet make distinguishing anybody hard. She’ll find you by the end of the night, once she’s ditched her shoes and had a little too much to drink, for now, you’ll have to keep yourself entertained in one of the many options the party of the recently returned lord of the estate has to offer.
You don’t know much about Rhysand, other than the rumors that he came from very, very old money and had been away on the Continent while the Vampire Queen Amarantha’s reign of terror had ravaged the courts. He’s something of a local legend, always throwing these extravagant masquerade balls, the doors of this sprawling, gothic estate open until the sun begins to rise in the morning, without ever showing his face. He has to be here somewhere, directing the staff and making sure there’s no mischief happening in the locked rooms on the upper floors, but no one can tell you what he looks like, how old he is, any defining details. Honestly, realizing this was where you’d be spending the evening had been nothing short of a thrill. The war against the vampires had taken your father and left your older brother as heir of the Spring estate, he hadn’t let you out much to explore since.
Gloved hands twirl you around the dance floor again, the candlelight from the iron chandeliers overhead glittering like a thousand stars as you throw your head back and embrace the sheer weightlessness of the dance. It’s exhilarating and freeing, and you find yourself wishing that every night was like this. You’d thrive in this kind of freedom, no locked doors in empty mansions, no guards just to walk you through the gardens, only your wits and your whims dictating where you’ll go next.
The dance requires you to change partners often, so it is no surprise that a different, stronger set of hands settles on your hips as you come out of a spin and move into a more complicated three step. However, the tall stranger, with eyes so blue they’re almost violet beneath a mask shaped like a bat, is far better sight than the last male.
“Enjoying yourself?” He asks, and his voice is a lover’s purr, made for the darkness of a bedroom.
“Immensely,” you say as you chase him through the steps, one hand on his firm shoulder, other atop his own against your waist. It is unlike you to keep your hands firmly planted on a male’s body, even while dancing, even with your brother’s watchful eye far away. Better to be cautious than be accused of having wandering hands, but you can make an exception. Forget you have ever done anything else, because the male wears a corset to accentuate every muscle in his lean body, dark shirt beneath left half open to show off a swirl of dark ink on his bronze chest. Every piece of clothing looks like an open invitation to touch. He knows it too, grinning when your hand slides a little lower on his chest.
“You dance beautifully,” he praises, perfect teeth biting at his lower lip as he drinks in the plunging neckline of your gown.
You’re thankful that your own mask hides the blush dusting your cheeks. “So do you.” He moves with inhumane grace, so fluidly you wouldn’t be able to track every step if he wasn’t pulling you along with him.
Three more steps, then a fourth before the music begins to slow and he’s dragging your body closer to his own, large hand sliding over your hip to your lower back.
“Will you dance another with me?” He asks, warm breath fanning your face as he leans in to be heard over the swell of a harp.
You nod eagerly, anything for a chance to have those hands on you a bit longer.
Two dances turn to four, then six, until you’ve lost count entirely, the night slipping away from you. At some point, he asks if you want to stop and get a drink, and you might have said no because this was just too good an opportunity to pass up, but the mischief in his violet eyes make you think better of it. You soon find yourself pulled through the swirling of bodies that hasn’t let up all night, and into a darker corner of the room, where couches and chairs and tables line the walls for people to observe the dancefloor with a little privacy. Quite a few of the couches are occupied with couples embracing in the shelter of the dark, where there are few candles to be observed under.
There’s a couch in the corner, beneath a large window, moonlight streaming over the dark cushions that’s empty and your companion leads you right to it. In your defense, you are expecting to be plied with a little wine before anything happens between the two of you, so you are unprepared for him to slide into the seat and pull you right into his lap!
Heat flares in your cheeks, body awkwardly tangled in your skirts as he pulls your hips forward to get you situated atop his powerful thighs.
“What happened to drinks?” You ask, a little breathless from dancing and trying not to stammer under the brazenness of the display. You’re no blushing virgin, but you’ve certainly never been in this compromising a position in front of an audience before.
He brushes his nose over the column of your throat and places his plush lips against your skin, making all thought eddie from your mind.
“I intend to,” he says into your skin before he nips gently at your sensitive flesh.
Your whole body shivers, eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Rhys,” he says as he kisses his way up your jaw.
Rhys as in…
As if he can read your mind he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin, “Only my enemies call me Rhysand.”
“How did you know that’s what I was going to ask?”
He hums as he scrapes his teeth playfully over your throat. The edges of his mask tickling your skin as it brushes against you, the contrast between his warm breath and the rough fabric sending a thrill down your spine. You should be absolutely mortified that you’re perched in the lord of the estate’s lap, but you can’t find it in you to care, can’t find it in yourself to do anything but settle a little more firmly against his body and let him explore.
“Mind reading is one of my many talents,” he purrs as his gloved hands slide over your hips, skirts bunching up around your thighs as slender fingers need the soft flesh of your ass.
You instinctively rock your hips forward, clothed core scraping over the budding tent in his slacks. The contact makes your head spin, makes you tip your head back a little as he sucks a mark into your throat. You’ll have to wear a scarf tomorrow to hide it from Tamlin.
“And what other talents do you have, M’lord?” You tease, because you’ve never believed in such magic.
“I think I’d rather show you, Darling,” he says, but his mouth doesn’t form the words, they’re an echo inside your head, as if they’re your own thoughts in his voice.
You still your movements in his lap; this is not the magic of witches or mages, not some clever party trick of the traveling magicians that often pass through Prythian. They say only Vampires can possess talents like this.
Rhys grins at you as the realization clicks into place, and whatever glamor had been used to hide his fangs slides out of place, canine’s glinting in the moonlight. You put your hands on his chest, firm, but there’s no heartbeat beneath your palms, intending to push yourself off him before he can sink those fangs into your throat, but his grip on you tightens to the brink of pain. Your bones feel fragile, brittle under his supernatural grip.
“Relax, Darling,” he instructs and a shadow of sheer, undiluted power brushes over your mind, freezing you in place. “I promise this will be pleasant for the both of us.”
“Let go of me!” You squeak, still trying to push yourself free. “Or I’ll start screaming!”
He chuckles, the sound of it skittering over your bones, and the dim candles nearby flicker out, leaving you only visible in the moonlight. A few of the couples nearby cheer excitedly, as if that’s some sort of signal.
“Here’s the thing,” he explains as he brushes his nose against the column of your throat again. When you try to squirm away, he only pulls you closer, lips hungrily tracing the pulse pounding in your neck. “I could go out into the woods, feed on some vagrants nobody cares about, spend my nights hunting for a warm body to take my fill of. But after a thousand years, the chase gets a little boring.”
A thousand years. Rhysand is a thousand year old Vampire?
“Why waste my time and energy, when I can bring a meal right to my doorstep?”
“Please,” you whimper, body trembling. “Please let me go. I won’t tell anybody.”
“I know you won’t,” he says, kissing your throat far more gently than somebody holding this tightly to you should. “That’s why I picked you. I know you want an escape from your life of locked doors.”
You still as he drags his lips along the edge of your jaw until he meets your ear. “Let me show you a way out.”
Your skin is sensitive there, his breath makes you shiver in delight, goosebumps prickling your skin. He can’t possibly know all this just by looking at you, he had to have been rummaging around in your head, probably while you were dancing. It’s an invasion of your privacy, and you should keep fighting for any chance to escape him, but there’s a piece of you that wants this. Tamlin will never give you a way out, the more you beg for your freedom the more doors he locks in your face, and if you go home in the morning, if you let him pick a husband for you, it will never be any different. There will only be more locked doors, only keeping a stranger’s bed warm, his house run, tending boys that will have more freedom than you’ll ever get just because they’re boys. You will be lucky if you’ll get to keep to your books and your sketches, lucky if you get to keep any hobbies at all that don’t include tending a house. You’re trapped in a cage no one can save you from if you don’t take this one key.
His fangs scrape over your earlobe as he nips playfully at it. “It’s an even bargain,” he prompts. “You let me feed, and I’ll show you a world of nothing but open doors, hmm?”
You’re a fool, and you’re pretty sure an agreement will damn your soul forever.
“Will it hurt?”
“Only for a moment.”
A moment’s pain for an opportunity of unbridled freedom. “It’s a bargain,” you say, tipping your head back to fully expose your throat. You shut your eyes though, unable to watch it happen.
“Good girl,” Rhys purrs and there’s a little tingle, like electricity in your fingertips and palm that makes you crack an eye open for a second to look at the black whorls that now cover your fingertips, up your hand and over your wrist. Some sort of permanent bargain mark.
There’s no time to ask about it before Rhys sinks his fangs into your throat. The coppery scent of blood fills your senses, mind spinning to comprehend all that’s happening as pain flairs in the muscles in your neck.
“So sweet,” he purrs into your mind. “Just as I’d hoped.”
He’s not letting up, but the longer it takes, the less pain you feel. The longer his fangs are in your neck, the warmer your body becomes. Your muscles slowly relax, pliant in his iron grip. When he rocks his hips, slowly, testing, you can’t help the groan that escapes you. Even as the last little rational bit of your mind screams in protest, your hips once again work over the bulge in his pants, chasing the heat budding in your core.
When he removes his fangs from your throat, he laves over the wound with his tongue, not letting a single drop of your blood escape. “I’ve fed on a lot of humans,” he whispers, “but none as sweet as you.”
You can’t seem to stop moving, chasing after the pleasure building quicker and quicker as you rut your hips against his. “What’s happening to me?”
When he kisses you, it’s the coppery tang of your own blood on his lips. “Vampire venom is an aphrodisiac. Makes feeding a pleasurable experience for everybody, wouldn’t you agree?”
The scrape of his slacks is delicious, makes you squeeze your eyes shut and move without thinking about how brazen you look, but it’s not enough. You need more. Need him deeper. Need him moving inside you with the same fervor he had when feeding on you.
“Need you,” you whimper and he kisses you again, one hand tangling in your hair, absolutely ruining the updo you’d carefully constructed hours earlier. The other slides under your skirts to find the hem of your underthings and he gives the elastic band a testing pull before he rips it off entirely.
You gasp in surprise into his mouth at the sheer strength of him.
The leather of his gloves is a cool texture against your bare skin as he drags a thumb over you and you rock your hips into his touch, desperately seeking more. He’d been right, this was definitely a more pleasurable experience than you anticipated it being.
Rhys breaks the kiss as he slides a finger inside you, and you throw your head back and moan unabashedly. You don’t truly have the presence of mind to look at the other couples nearby, but judging by the sounds coming from around you, you’re not the only one partaking of this kind of pleasure tonight. The cover of darkness and music shields your activities well enough, but perhaps there are more than a few vampires in Rhys’s court, and they won’t risk their own hunts letting anybody look too close in your direction.
Plush lips move down your jaw again, like he just can’t stay away from your throat. You’re inclined to let him bite you again and again and again just to feel like this for a little while longer. Heat and pleasure builds at the base of your spine, burning white hot through you as he slides a second finger in your wetness, stretching you out.
“All this for me, Darling?” He scrapes his teeth over your skin, not biting but marking you as he searches for the collar of your gown. When he finds it, he starts dragging it away from your body with his teeth, deft fingers untying the laces at your back to let the excess fabric fall.
The cool air against your flushed skin has you whimpering, eyes screwed shut as you draw closer and closer to the edge.
His fingers curl, hitting a spot inside you that makes stars swim across your vision and you bite down so hard on your lower lip to keep from screaming you draw blood. Like a moth to flame, his lips leave where he’d been sucking a mark into your shoulder to lap the slight trickle of blood off your lower lip.
Maybe you’re wrong for it, but the sight is hot, makes you core tighten around his fingers, addicted to the way he craves you, as if you’re some sort of drug. You drag your hands down his chest, unclasping the last button you can reach before the corset gets in the way. You want to tear it off him and run your tongue over the firm planes of his chest, taste him just as he is you, but that will have to be another time. Your hands move lower, trying to find the laces of his pants around the bunched up frill of your skirts, needing more, unable to convey it around the white noise building in your head. It’s too much and not enough; the best you’ve ever had and you haven’t even cum yet. You’ve never felt so desperate for anything in your life.
He chuckles into your mouth at your neediness, hips rising off the couch to both tease you and give you the leverage you need to find the laces of his pants. You’re really not sure how you manage it around your skirts, how you can think about anything but the movement of his fingers inside you or all the filthy things he keeps whispering in your ear. It’s nothing short of a frenzy as you finally manage to get him free of his laces and guide him directly where you need him most.
He’s not your first by any means, but he’s definitely the biggest, and it takes a moment for you to adjust to his size. By then, the world around you could have been on fire and you wouldn’t have noticed anything but him. There is no orchestra playing, no music besides the sounds of his moans of pleasure as they mingle with yours, no thought but the two of you and how your bodies merge and join.
That white hot pleasure keeps building tighter and tighter with every thrust of his cock inside you, and you steady yourself against the back of the couch, chests brushing as you fight to remain steady. His fingertips will certainly leave bruises on your hips with the way he holds you.
You’re so close to the edge, dangling over the precipice, his name a prayer on your lips as he once again sinks his fangs into your neck for a taste. Release barrels through you as he moans into your bruised flesh, his own release not far behind as you slump exhausted against his chest.
“Holy shit,” you whimper, body trembling as you come down from your high.
Rhys strokes a gloved hand over your ruined hair as you catch your breath. “I was going to turn you tonight,” he hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I think I want a few more rounds of that first.”
You huff a laugh into his chest. You don’t hate the idea. No part of your bargain said he had to turn you immediately. “Is that all vampires do? Feed and fuck?”
Violet eyes gleam playfully in the dark as he says, “Darling, you’ll have all eternity to find out.”
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Rafe Cameron
P Links
+18
Minor DNI
I’ve never done one of these before. Hopefully it’s not awful 🩷✨
🖤 Big Dick Rafe
🤍 Couldn’t Make it to the Bed
🖤 Keep Those Panties On
🤍 Frat!Rafe on Spring Break
🖤 Rough
🤍 Tutor Girl
🖤 Cream Pie
🤍 Filling His Princess
🖤 Teasing Sub!Rafe Part 1
🤍 Teasing Sub!Rafe Part 2
🖤 Frat!Rafe Loves Your Little Skirt
🤍 Mirror Sex
🖤 Back Shots
🤍 Tit Job
🖤 Taking Control from the Bottom
🤍 Study Break with BF Rafe
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🤰🏻
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Based on this ask & this ask
Soft!Dark!Coriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, StepDaddy!Coriolanus, Stepcest, Stepdaughter!Reader, Daddy Kink, Smut, DDLG, drug use reference, cougar/cub relationship, older man/younger woman
Your mother, recently widowed for the second time, sat you and your younger brother down on the living room sofa because she had an important announcement to make. She even had your older brother, who was serving as an officer for the Peacekeepers in 12, on video call for the special announcement.
An announcement that would change the rest of your life.
“Children, I'm getting married to the Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.”
“What the hell?...” Your younger brother, Darius, trailed off in disgust.
“Mother, I went to the Academy with that guy! He's too fucking young for you!” Your older brother, Rein, shouted.
“Oh my God, you're a cougar!” You exclaimed, trying but failing not to laugh. You found it a bit funny that your mother has managed to snag a man your older brother's age. Who would've thought. Maybe all those facelifts paid off after all…
“Will you children stop it?” Your mother scolded all three of you. “Coriolanus is a nice man who's about to declare a Senate run. He's very successful and mature for his age.”
“Sounds like he's freaky to me.” Darius, who was 13, remarked.
Oh, if only you all knew how ‘freaky’ Coriolanus Snow was. And he wasn't truly into cougars freaky either.
Snapping his fingers, causing the screen on his end in the Peacekeepers base to crackle, Rein said, “Lil bro’s right, man has to be freaky to wanna marry somebody old enough to be his mother.”
“Maybe he really likes her.” You shrugged, trying to put out any fanning fires before they flare up.
Oh boy…if only you knew who Coriolanus really liked. And it wasn't your mother, that's for sure.
“Or maybe he's marrying her for father's money?” Darius popped up with another theory.
“He was named Strabo Plinth's heir for being best friends with the man's only son. I don't see why mother's money would mean anything to him.” You told everyone, since you didn't think that a rich man would be a gold digger.
“Coriolanus Snow was always a shifty bastard.” Rein spat out in disgust. “Walked around with a stick up his ass in the Academy.” Your brother mocked the blonde your mother's now engaged too. Leaning in closer, so that his face was almost pressed up against the camera screen, he revealed, “Heard that he was given an extremely early discharge instead of being shipped to 2 for officer's training- which I'm glad for cause I would've strangled that pompous motherfucker if I had to do my training with him- cause Plinth desperately needed an heir.”
Your mother shook her head, only to order in a fed up tone, “Will all of you calm down? Whether you like it or not, I'm marrying him and he's going to be your stepfather.”
A week before the wedding you moved into Coriolanus' penthouse. It wasn't the 12th floor Corso penthouse he was raised in either. No, it was a new top floor penthouse in downtown Capitol City; in one of the Luxe Buildings. Actually, it was in the same building your friend from the Academy, Odysseus Odair, lived in.
When the Avox answered the door, your mother strolled on in like she was a queen. “Coriolanus, we're here!” She called out to your soon to be new stepfather as you and Darius walked inside of your new home.
“Rein’s right, dude looks shady as fuck, sis.” Darius whispered to you as Coriolanus came strutting down the hall in a deep red 3-piece suit, hair short on the sides and slicked back in a tight coif. “I don't trust him as far as we can throw him.”
“Be nice. He makes mom happy and he looks-” You began to tell your baby brother, only for him to cut you off with, “If you dare try to tell me that he looks happy too, then don't.” Looking between Coriolanus giving your mother a peck on the cheek, which looked more like the kiss of Judas then affectionate, and you, Darius said, “He looks like what I imagine Lucifer did before he fell from grace.”
“Don't call him Lucifer.” You chastised your brother.
“What? If the name fits…” He sing-songed with a shrug.
Coriolanus said something to your mother, only to shoo her down the hall before making his way over to you and your little brother.
“Here comes Satan.” Darius quietly whispered, never moving his mouth- much like a ventriloquist.
Coming to a stop right in front of you and your brother, Coriolanus flashed you a smile. One that was too sweet, too wide, showing off too many pearly white teeth. “Y/N.” He greeted you, your name dripping off his tongue thickly, causing your heart to race. If he was handsome looking at a distance, hell…he's hotter up close. And the way he just said your name? Holy shit…
Turning to your brother, Coriolanus’ face turned to stone. His voice was cold and clipped as he greeted him with a backhanded, "Oh, Darian isn't it?”
“Darius.” Your brother quickly corrected the tall platinum blonde looming over the two of you.
“Ah, yes, that's right.” Coriolanus nodded his head in a dismissive way. “Darius, the Avox will show you to your room.” He told your brother before snapping his hands and ordering the nearby Avox to, “Show Darius here to his room. Also, make sure his things are unpacked.”
The Avox took your brother upstairs to show him to his room while Coriolanus gave you a lingering look. A look that made your stomach do somersaults.
“I'll show you around your new home.” He told you, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you across the room.
“Thank you, but you don't have to do that. I know you're busy with your upcoming Senate campaign.”
“I'm your daddy now, my sweet baby girl, and daddy’ll always have plenty of time for his baby.” Coriolanus told you with a glint in his icy eyes and a husky tone in his voice. Perhaps too husky…
You didn't say a word, just let him show you the living room before bringing you into the kitchen. “We have a cook, so if there's anything special you want don't be shy to request it.”
“Is our housekeeper, Marisol, here?” You innocently asked, since you didn't see the tanned skin woman (originally from 2) in the penthouse. You had assumed she'd be moving with you, since she lived with your family in your old townhouse.
“Yes-” Coriolanus heavily sighed while directing you out of the kitchen. “About that. Well, she missed her family back in the districts so she decided to go back.”
That was a lie. Marisol didn't decide to go back to 2. Coriolanus sent her back. In a pine box. Because she was too dangerous to be kept alive and around you. She cares about you too much, was warm and motherly to you. He knows that the former housekeeper would warn you away from him. Hell, would probably fight him- all to protect you from his plans.
Yes, his dark plans to finally have you.
And by have you, well, Coriolanus wants to take your innocence. He wants to be the first and only man to fuck you. He wants to be your lover, your confidant, your other half, your man.
He can't have some District 2 immigrant housekeeper ruining his plans either. Not when everything's perfectly set in place.
Yea…
Coriolanus isn't marrying your mother because he likes her, he's marrying her to get close to you. All because he's obsessed with you. And the thought of having you call him Daddy while he pounds your pussy drives him wild.
You could say that Coriolanus has a bit of a daddy kink. One that he plans on enacting with you real soon. You're 18 and you'll be graduating from the Academy soon. Now's the perfect time to get everything he wants.
After seeing the first floor of the penthouse (yea, the grand thing has 2 floors!), which included your mother sitting out on the patio deck with a cocktail in one hand and cigarette holder in the other, Coriolanus led you up the sleek, modern staircase- that had a glass wall bannister. Instead of leading you to your room, he took you over to the balcony- which had a glass wall as a railing.
“All of this is yours, my darling.” Coriolanus whispered, breath hotly fanning your ear, as his hard muscled chest pressed against your back. His large, calloused hands were on top of yours, which were holding onto the railing, as you looked down at the first floor of the penthouse. He nuzzled your hair with his prominent nose while letting out a husky promise off, “Anything you want, you desire, Daddy’ll get it for you, sweet baby girl.” His thumbs run over your knuckles as he lightly grinds his hard bulge into your ass. “Daddy’ll take such good care of his precious baby girl, now that you're all mine.”
Your brain began to explode. What the hell?! What's going on?! Is your stepdad (well soon to be stepdad in a couple of weeks) coming onto you? Yes, he's your older brother's age (they went to the Academy together), but he's marrying your mother. This can't be happening!
Oh, but yes, yes it is.
It's happening!
Coriolanus, knowing that he has to show you to your room, pulled away from you. You let you a breath you didn't even know you were holding, but you also felt a slight tingling feeling between your legs. A dampness. You know it's wrong it let Coriolanus words affect you so strongly, but they did.
“Come on, Y/N.” The platinum blonde god of a man told you, grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the balcony. “I need to show you to your room.”
“Okay.” You simply said, voice trembling a bit from the slight ache in your core.
Damn him for turning you on just a moment ago.
Coriolanus smirked at hearing the slight tension in your voice. He liked that he was making you all hot and bothered. Having such power over you thrilled him, gave his already too big ego a boost.
He pointed to a bathroom, only to tell you that it was yours before coming to a stop at your room. Across from your room were intricate French doors, trimmed in gold vining roses. With a wolfish grin, Coriolanus gestured to the doors across from your room and told you, “That's my room, my darling.” Pinning you to your door by holding your hands above your head in one of his large hands; leaning his head to ghost his lush lips over the shell of your ear, he huskily coos, “It's my room, all mine, so you're allowed to come in and spend time with me anytime you want.”
“But-” You began to object to his forward come on, since he was marrying your mother soon, but he cut you off by placing a finger on your lips. Grinding his hard bulge, which was very sizable, into you, he lustfully declared, “My room’s my own, sweet girl, so I assure you that we won't get caught.” Your eyes went wide, causing him to nibble at the sweet spot behind your ear. “I know you want to fuck me as badly as I wanna fuck you, Y/N. I can hear your labored breathing and can feel you clenching your thighs; they're rubbing against my legs.
“Coriolanus, you're marrying my mother and you're-” You began to try and reason with him, only for him to grab your chin in his hand. Squeezing it harshly, he confessed, “I don't care about that old whore. Helenium’s only a means to an end; you're the one that I want. That I crave, that I want to bury my cock deep into; fuck full of children.”
“We can't do that, Cor-” You started to say, only for him to curtly cut you off with, “Call me Coryo or Daddy.” Caressing your cheek, he lustfully smiled, “You'll be calling me Daddy while I fuck you, baby girl.”
Oh boy…you're in for it now.
You felt the heat pooling deep inside of you. Your pussy ached with such want, one that you've never felt before. And even tho you knew it was wrong, you needed relief. God, you needed to find a way to get yourself alone in your room so that you could play with your pussy.
As if he could read your mind, Coriolanus rolled his hips against yours, causing you to stifle a moan, while telling you, “You want to hide in your room, fuck your fingers, but you don't need to do that anymore. Not when you have Daddy to fuck you; make you feel good.”
The offer was tempting, but there was just one catch.
“I'm a virgin, Coryo. I-” You began to explained, only for Coriolanus to press a kiss to your lips, shushing you. All words died on your lips, causing Coryo to rest his forehead against yours and say, “Don't worry, sweet girl, Daddy’ll pop your sweet cherry when you're ready.” Your heart raced in your chest as he told you, “Daddy'll feast on your pussy, finger fuck you, and teach you how to suck cock- like a good baby girl- tonight.”
The sound of a doorknob turning and a door beginning to open caused Coriolanus to back away from you- as if he’d been burned- and scurry off into his room, leaving you leaning against the door of yours, as a nearby door slammed shut followed by footsteps coming up the hall. You just sighed, turned around, and went inside of your room.
You expected to see your things in your room, or at least boxes with your things in it, but instead you're met with a room that was baby pink. Actually, it wasn't just baby pink, but it was covered in girly decor. The furniture was white, the duvet was pink rose print, the satin sheets pink, and the pillow cases pink roses with pink ruffles. A large white mirror sat on top of a white vanity that had a vase with a single white rose perched on it, along with white pearls, and a silver compact. You also have a wooden hair bow organizer on the wall filled with bows and ribbons in various shades of white, cream, red, pink, and rose prints.
And when you inspected your closet, to see if maybe your clothes were unpacked, you noticed that you had an entirely new wardrobe. Instead of your usual clothes, your large walk-in closet was now filled with mini skirts, dresses, blouses, and sweaters in various shades of cream, white, and pink. There were even a few red items amongst the mix too. And all of your shoes were replaced with Mary Jane’s in a few different shades and a pair of designer black kitten heels. You know, the ones with the red bottoms. And don't forget about the shelf filled with designer handbags in every size in the colors of white, cream, pink, and red.
Yes, red! You had about 20 new handbags and at least 5 of them were red!
Oh my God, Coriolanus did all of this for you…
It made your head spin.
A knock sounded at your door, causing you to call out a simple come in. You expected Coriolanus to strut thru the door, but instead your little brother, Darius entered.
“Sis, daddy dearest is a fucking whackbag. He gave me a closet full of new, snobby clothes and a handbook on how to behave properly like a Snow.” Darius told you as you sat down on your vanity chair. Taking in the decor of the room, he huffed, “And he's made you the croquette aesthetic princess.” Shuddering, he waved his hand about and said, “The walls look like they've been painted in pepto bismol.”
“Darius, stop. He's just trying to be nice.” You defended Coriolanus without even thinking twice about it.
Did you secretly desire the forbidden fruit? The man whose obsession with you has led him to marry your mother. Just to get you under his roof; in his bed.
Yes.
Yes you did.
And whether you fully know it yet or not, you're sneaking into his room tonight to see if he's bluffing about what he wants to do to you.
Wandering around your room, Darius scoffed. “There's nothing nice ‘bout Satan, sissy.”
“Don't call Coryo Satan, Darius.” You scolded your brother as he opened up your dresser drawer.
“Coryo?” He asked, brow raised. “I see he managed to win you over. What'd he do, promise to give you your own black Amex?” Darius sarcastically asked, only to slam the drawer he was rooting thru shut. “That sick fuck gotcha a lingerie drawer full of lacy stuff.”
“I doubt he got it. Maybe his cousin picked them out for me, she is a stylist.”
“Yea, maybe.” Darius nodding, all the while making a mental note to keep an eye on how your new stepdaddy acted around you.
Mhm…
After seeing that panties drawer, well, your little brother didn't trust Coriolanus around you. Not that he trusted the guy to begin with.
Late that night, when everyone was asleep, you found yourself in Coriolanus' room; writhing in his bed with his head buried between your legs. Your hands clutched his platinum blonde curls tightly, letting out little mewls as he lapped at your soaking cunt. His nose bumped against your clit, causing your hips to buck-chasing your pleasure.
“Oh…Daddy…” You moaned as he began to messily eat our pussy, his head moving side to side vigorously. Oh god, could Coriolanus eat cunt. He was a natural at it; born to do it. And his skill was going to make your eyeballs roll into the back of your head, was going to make you cum for a third time.
The first time he made you cum was when he had you pressed against his bedroom door, panties pulled to the side with his long, large fingers stuffed deep inside of your pussy. The second time he has you cumming was just moments ago, when he was tongue fucking you.
Coriolanus loved hearing you call him Daddy in the bedroom. It made his hard cock even harder, of that was possible. It was such a turn on. Yes, it was dirty and taboo to be fucking with his soon to be stepdaughter (twisted even), but he didn't care. Coriolanus always did what he wanted; society be damned.
Hell, with his silver tongue he had turn society to his will. Make and change the rules. So, he's not worried about the Capitol finding out about his dark, kinky side when it comes to you- his sweet little stepdaughter. His baby girl.
He's got a plan in place of how to navigate his marriage and the corruption of you. Eh…he doesn't plan on being married that long. He just needs to find the opportune moment to get rid of your mother. Of course, after he's married to her for a little while (just long enough to get his grubby hands on all of her money; her assets, and your brother's inheritance that he tricked her into signing over to him in an updated will).
Coriolanus poisoned your first stepfather, General Prometheus Byzantine because he refused his offer of courtship for you. The General laughed in his face; told him that he'd get to you over his dead body. He also told Coriolanus that his stepchildren (you and your older brother, Rein) would not be inheriting anything from him or your mother, that your little brother, Darius, would get it all. That Coriolanus was better off finding a proper Capitol girl- perhaps one closer to his own age, to marry.
But the stoic platinum blonde didn't want just anybody, he wanted you. And he'd do anything to get you. Which’s working so far, considering he's devouring your cunt like a starving man.
“Coryo…Daddy…please…” You begged, on the verge of cumming again, as you felt the knot burning low in your depths begin to tighten
Resting his head against your thigh, he lustfully told you, “Daddy's got you, baby girl. Daddy's gonna make you cum again.”, before sucking hard and fast on your clit and pistoning two of his long fingers in and out of your cunt; curling them just right to hit that spongy spot deep inside of you.
And while your chest is heaving, moans are spilling out of your mouth, and your hips are bucking like wild, Coryo’s feasting on you like your cunt as if he hasn't eaten in years. Your juices taste so good to him, so intoxicating. He can honestly say that your pussy’s the best he's ever tasted (and he's eaten a lot of pussy); he'll even say that he craves it's sweet, tangy nectar on his tongue now.
Oh, and how eating your cunt has him so turned on. So achingly hard, that he's roughly grinding into the mattress, desperate to seek some relief. But the sloppier he eats you out, drawing moans and mewls from your sweet lips, the harder and faster he humps into the mattress. The silk sheets teasing his cock, which was trapped in his boxer briefs.
Suddenly, the tension inside of you snapped and you were cumming. Mixed moans of Coryo and Daddy filled the air as your hands tangled in Coryo’s blonde curls, shoving him deeper into your cunt as you rode out your high.
The scent of your cunt, your juices soaking not just his tongue, but his face, and you calling his name sent Coryo over the edge; had him cumming in his boxer briefs.
Once you relaxed and let go of his hair, Coryo got up and stripped out of his underwear (he couldn't wear cum filled boxer briefs all night) and then rejoined you on the bed. Laying next to you, he held his arm open- inviting you to snuggle up into his side. Having never been with a man or experienced aftercare before, you just stared at him questioningly. As if you weren't sure whether to slide up next to him or not.
“Y/N, my darling rose, come here.” Coriolanus instructed, patting the spot next to him before stretching his arm out again; making room for you.
“Okay, Daddy.” You nodded, scooting your body to lay flush against him.
Wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, he chuckled, “You don't have to call me that all the time, baby. Just when we're fucking around.”
“So, outside of the bedroom you're Coryo then.” You concluded, resting your head on his chest.
“Unless you want me to fuck your brains out somewhere risky, where we might get caught, then yea- save Daddy for in here.”
“So, you have a Daddy kink “ You stated, not asked, as Coryo started to run the tips of his calloused fingers up and down your spine.
“Yes, and I'm also a Dom.” He stated, as if he was telling you what degree he earned in University, before listing off the other kinks he has. “Kink wise, I'm into spit play, impact play, anal play, and degradation.”
What the fuck have you just gotten yourself into? That's a lot of stuff he's into. And, well, you have no idea what any of that stuff is.
“Oh…” You trailed off.
“Hey, little dove, I know you're new to this so don't worry about all the things I like. We'll ease you into it; even find out if you like something I haven't mentioned.”
“Okay.” You agreed, nodding against his chest. A chest that looked like it was sculpted by Michelangelo.
You two cuddle together for a tad bit longer, just talking about little things. But then, you let out a yawn and the platinum blonde man knew it was time to send you on your way; back to your own room across the hall.
It was a good thing that your mother had a master suite downstairs, otherwise all of your moaning might've woken her up. Unknown to both you and Coryo, your little brother Darius (at the age of 13) had a bit of a drug problem. He developed it shortly after his father, Prometheus, died. So, since he was strung out in his bedroom down the hall, your moans didn't wake him up. Infact, a bomb could go off and it won't wake up Darius.
Coryo had no idea that marrying your mother, a week after your first encounter with him, in a scheme to get all of her money along with your younger brother's inheritance (In order to give you what he felt you rightfully deserve) was going to give him the family the reporters, media outlets, and political opponents and rivals needed to skew his golden boy image. To screw up his Senate campaign.
Looks like the only thing Snow's landing on top of is you.
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Wrapped in a Bow
It’s late when Coriolanus gets home.
So late.
The guilt eats him alive as he pushes the elevator button to take him to the twelfth floor. He lives in the penthouse of course.
He knows she’ll be waiting for him, she always is. Even if she falls asleep in the process he knows Soarynn won’t go to bed without him. At first he’d been slightly put off by it.
Why would she wait up for him when she could be asleep?
But then he began to love it, cherish it. And the more sick and twisted side of him was filled with pride that his girlfriend chose to wait for him each and every night. He knew his other friends couldn’t say the same.
He’s quiet when unlocking the doors and walking in. The penthouse is dark except for a faint glow coming from the living room. And he can hear a muffled voice, someone is talking but he knows it’s not Soarynn. He walks further into the apartment and finds his girlfriend in her usual spot, curled up on the sofa with a blanket, wearing one of his pullovers. She looks so beautiful, so angelic while she sleeps.
He turns his attention to the television where Lucky Flickerman’s television show is playing softly. He knows why she’s watching him this late at night and it’s not because she’s a big Lucky Flickerman fan.
It’s because she’s scared to be alone.
That’s probably what makes Coriolanus feel the worst. Knowing that while he’s at the office or at some company dinner Soarynn is home alone, anxiously waiting for him to get back.
She’s fine during the day. She goes out with her friends, goes shopping, gets her nails done. But when the sun sets she gets nervous.
Coriolanus walks around the sofa and reaches down for the remote, turning off the television before he gently scoops Soarynn off the sofa, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla. She’s always smelled like vanilla. He’s always smelled like roses.
A perfect pair it seems.
Soarynn begins to mumble when they reach the bedroom, finally stirring from her sleep. “Hi pretty girl,” he whispers, nudging the doors shut with his foot. Soarynn slowly opens her eyes, nearly taking his breath away. She’s always been so stunning.
Soarynn reaches out and brushes his cheek with her finger tips as if she can’t believe he’s real. He often finds himself wondering the same thing about her.
Is this real? Is she real? Does she really love him?
He likes to think it’s real. He knows his love for her is real. “Coryo,” she whispers, “you’re home so late.” Coriolanus swallows at her statement and carefully sits down at the edge of the bed, holding her a little tighter in her arms. “I know, I got held up in a meeting and one thing led to another and I lost track of time. I’m sorry Soarynn.”
He knows it affects her. Upsets her. He’d be pretty upset too if he was in her position, waiting at home for her to get home just for her to be late and come home exhausted, barely able to give him any attention.
Soarynn doesn’t say anything but her eyes do. He chooses to ignore it, smooth over it. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises with a kiss on her head. Soarynn simply hums and closes her eyes letting him watch her sleep for a while before he puts her to bed so he can shower.
Coriolanus thinks of what he could do to make it up to her. All his late nights. He knows that at the end of the day everything he already does for her is more than enough. He pays for everything and makes sure Soarynn is well taken care of.
Soarynn already has everything she needs.
So what do you get for someone who has everything?
꧁ ꧂
“And what breed are they?”
Coriolanus asks the question as he looks down at the pen filled with small kittens who are all looking up at him. He must look like a giant to them.
The shop owner reaches down and picks one up, one with white and gray fur, “They’re ragdolls Mr. Snow, very sweet and they’ll fall asleep in your hands almost instantly.”
Just like Soarynn, he thinks, looking at the small cat. It’s not secret that his girlfriend can fall asleep nearly anywhere although she prefers to be in his arms.
Coriolanus nods, gingerly taking the kitten from the owners hands. It’s so small and warm, so fragile. And it does almost immediately fall asleep in his hold. Which is good in his opinion. He doesn’t need a car running around the apartment in the middle of the night. “You’re welcome to choose which ever one you like,” the owner says.
Coriolanus almost wishes he brought Soarynn with him but this is meant to be a surprise. He looks back down at all the kittens and one in particular catches his eye. It’s all white, jumping onto its siblings and when it looks up at him he swears he’s looking into Soarynn’s eyes. The kittens nose is so pink and he knows in that moment that this is the kitten for him.
“I’ll take the white one,” he nods to the small feline. The owner smiles, “Excellent choice sir. She’ll be the perfect companion.”
He sure hopes so.
The shop owner provides a box for transporting the kitten and he pulls out a roll of ribbon. “Would you like me to tie a little bow around her neck? I know the ladies love a gift that comes with a bow.” Coriolanus hadn’t really thought of the presentation aspect of this surprise but he knows Soarynn will love it. “Yes please, the bow will do quite nicely.”
꧁ ꧂
It’s a strange thing to walk into his apartment with a kitten in a box.
She hasn’t stopped meowing since they left the shop and he’s beginning to worry that she might never shut up. Thankfully she quiets down once he opens the lid to the box and shoots her a stern look. If she wants to live in his house then she’ll need to learn that his world is law.
“Soarynn?” He calls out, noting her keys on the entry way table meaning she’s home, “Where are you darling?”
He can see a few shopping bags in the kitchen but Soarynn is nowhere to be found. “I’m in the bedroom Coryo!”
Coriolanus makes sure the box is properly closed before walking to the bedroom where he finds his girlfriend sitting on the bed with her legs crossed while she folds clothes. They have a maid who comes once a week to do laundry but Soarynn often has a specific outfit in mind for an event and she takes matters into her own hands and does the laundry herself.
Coriolanus certainly isn’t complaining. Not when she does his too.
“Hello my love,” she says sweetly, looking up at him. She looks perfect as always. She’s wearing one of her silk nightgowns which means it’ll be a night in. It’s only six o’clock but Soarynn often prefers to lounge around before going to bed. She’s like a cat in more ways than one. She’s quite tedious when it comes to grooming herself. She has soft hair, startling eyes and she nearly purrs whenever Coriolanus touches her just right.
“Doing laundry are we?” He asks, stopping at the foot of the bed to watch her. It’s mostly lingerie which brings a smirk to his lips. He loves seeing her in it almost as much as he loves ripping it off of her. Soarynn hums, “Yes, I thought I should go through it, get rid of some of my older pieces.” When she goes to look up at him her eyes land on the box. The pretty pink box.
“What’s that?”
Coriolanus smiles, “Just a little gift. I know you get lonely when I’m at work so I bought you something,” he says, placing the box down infront of her. Soarynn gives him a nervous smile as she goes to open the lid, “Coryo you really didn’t have to get me anything,” she says softly, taking the lid off.
The gasp that leaves her mouth makes it all worth it for him. Watching her eyes widen as she looks down at the white kitten. She reaches in, ever so gently picking up the kitten in her hands. “Oh my goodness, oh my, oh, Coryo she’s beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, she’s perfect.”
Soarynn smiles at the kitten who is instantly taken with her and reaches out its tiny paws towards her face. Soarynn giggles and brings the cat towards her face, nuzzling her nose with the felines pink one. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest thing?” She asks the kitten, grinning when she hears a small meow.
“Do you like it?” Coriolanus asks, feeling it’s his duty to ensure Soarynn is thoroughly pleased with everything she gets, even if it’s a cat. Soarynn nods and beams up at him, “I love it. I absolutely love it Coryo, thank you.” He smiles, pleased to see himself as the loving and doting boyfriend once again.
Soarynn sets the kitten down and lets her crawl around on the bed, “She’s perfect,” Soarynn whispers, “wrapped with a bow and everything.”
The kitten seems quiet curious about Soarynn’s lingerie collection and Coriolanus chuckles when her tiny claws get tangled in a lace bralette, “Oh don’t do that darling,” Soarynn tells her softly, scooping her back up. “What are you going to name her?” He asks, curious as to what Soarynn will name the feline. She ought to be taken to the vet tomorrow to be given the proper shots and have all her paper work down. She’ll need a collar as well.
Soarynn holds the kitten up as if inspecting her for damage, “Hmm, I don’t know. I’ve never had a pet before. Perhaps something distinguished, so she’s a proper Snow.”
Coriolanus can’t stop himself from smiling at his girlfriend’s words. How she considers herself and the cat a Snow already. Soarynn is practically a Snow, all she needs is the wedding ring and that’s not too far in the future as far as he’s concerned. But the fact that she wants the cat to be a proper representation of his family name further supports that Coriolanus made the right decision in dating Soarynn.
“What about a flower?” He suggests since the Snows are known for their roses. Soarynn sets the kitten down, “Rosy?” She asks, looking for a reaction. She gets none. Soarynn bites her lip, “Daisy? Is your name Daisy?” She tilts her head but the kitten gives no indication that she’s been named properly. Soarynn sighs, “Oh this is hard. I can’t imagine the pressure there will be for children.”
Coriolanus likes the thought of that. Of them having children. A cat is simply the first step. Soarynn snaps her fingers, “Petunia.” The kitten lets out a meow and Soarynn gasps, “That’s her name! Petunia!”
Petunia purrs in her hold and begins to wiggle as if asking to be put down and Soarynn obliges, watching her run around. “She’s got a lot of energy right now,” she notes. Coriolanus takes a seat next to her on the edge of the bed, “She’ll wind down when she’s older and supposedly she’ll fall asleep right in your hands.” Soarynn raises her eyebrows and looks down at Petunia who’s now batting a paw at Coriolanus and his pants. He sighs and gently pushes her away, “She’ll need to be trained Soarynn. Well behaved when people come over and she better not touch any of my furniture.”
Coriolanus is beginning to have second thoughts about brining an animal into the home. Didn’t they bring in mites and disease? Not too long ago dogs were roaming the streets with rabies during the war. He looks down at Petunia who has now crawled into Soarynn’s lap. She’s from a reputable breeder and she seems clean. The vet will be able to assess her. At least that’s what he tells himself. “She’ll be perfectly behaved,” Soarynn says, giving Petunia a scratch behind the ears, causing the cat to purr.
He’s not too convinced. Coriolanus is quick to grab her chin between his fingers, getting her to look him in the eyes, “I’m serious Soarynn. One wrong move and she’s gone. Petunia is supposed to be your pet not your child.” Soarynn gives him a small pout but his resolve isn’t breaking and she can see that now. “Okay, I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble,” Soarynn promises, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And thank you for getting me a cat Coryo, she’ll be excellent company and you’ll come to love her you’ll see.”
Coriolanus isn’t too sure about loving the cat but he can tolerate her just fine as long as she stays out of his way and doesn’t steal all of his girlfriend’s attention. She was his first and she’ll be his last.
꧁ ꧂
Coriolanus groans when his alarm goes off. Six in the morning is brutal but necessary in his opinion to be successful throughout the day. He sits up and allows himself a moment to admire his sleeping girlfriend. Her head is practically on his pillow but she’s never been too good at staying on her side of the bed.
Coriolanus quietly slips out of bed and heads to the bathroom where he takes a nice hot shower. He keeps the door slightly cracked open just in case Soarynn is in the mood to join him. Every once in a while she’ll rouse from her sleep and hop in the shower with him before he goes to work.
And today is one of those days. He grins when his sleep girlfriend pushes the door open, her nightgown nearly falling off her shoulders as she rubs her eyes. “Well isn’t this a lovely surprise?” He asks watching her step into the steamy shower after slipping over the nightgown. Soarynn gives him a shy smile before wrapping her arms around his neck, “The bed got so cold once you left,” she mumbles into his neck.
He chuckles and wraps his arms around her small waist, pressing a kiss to her head, “Is Petunia not around to provide you warmth?” Soarynn giggles and slightly pulls away, looking up at him with those eyes he could drown in, “You know she’s probably wide awake right now,” she says teasingly.
She has a point. It had taken them one night to learn that Petunia thrives at night. During the day she sleeps but during the night that cat is a ball of energy. Coriolanus had nearly banished her from their bedroom all together when she tried to play with his socks in the middle of the night. But thankfully she’s calmed down since then. The vet said as she got older she’d sleep more throughout the night and Coriolanus was counting down the days until that happened.
But she made Soarynn happy. So that counts for something he supposes.
All her friends adored Petunia and that cat lived better than most humans in his opinion. She had a pink collar, her own bed and a plethora of cat toys. Not to mention how many times Soarynn brushed her during the day. Spoiled didn’t begin to describe that cat.
Coriolanus simply hums before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He cherishes times like these the most with Soarynn. When it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. Soarynn returns it eagerly and her fingers card through his wet curls. Coriolanus slips his hands from her waist to her ass, squeezing it and smirking when she moans.
Coriolanus is a man who indulges in the little things and that includes steamy morning sex in the shower every once in a while. “It’s been a minute since I’ve taken you in here,” he mumbles against her lips. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, “Well here’s your chance.”
꧁ ꧂
Coriolanus is all smiles as they walk out of the bathroom. He’s smiling like a school boy watching Soarynn’s naked body walking in front of him, a slight limp to her walk. He doesn’t hesitate to land a slap to her ass and Soarynn gasps, shooting him a look from over her shoulder, “You’re done for the day,” she tells him, her tone all too flirtatious to really mean it.
He cocks his eyebrow, “Well then it looks like I have my work cut out for me when it becomes night.”
Before Soarynn can even reply a white paw appears from under the bed, batting at her ankle. Soarynn giggles and couches down, playing with Petunia’s paw for a moment before the feline crawls out. She was probably under there all night along with the mountain of toys Soarynn has bought her.
“Good morning my sweet angel,” Soarynn says as she picks her up and spins her around. Petunia lets out a pleased purr before Soarynn brings her to her shoulder, holding her like an infant.
Coriolanus usually rolls his eyes at the sight, treating the cat as if she’s a human baby. But there’s something about it, seeing Soarynn act so motherly as if on instinct. She’ll be a wonderful mother where actual children are concerned.
He’ll propose soon. Maybe do it on the rooftop surrounded by his grandmothers roses. Whatever he does it’ll be perfectly romantic. The ring will be stunning, a ring fit for the wife of a Snow. The wife of Coriolanus Snow. He’ll pick out the perfect diamond, the perfect band, perfect box.
He’ll do everything perfectly and have it wrapped with a bow.
| tumblr oneshot/drabble |
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"Chemicals React" - Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader - Series Masterlist (Ongoing)
Summary: Rafe has lived a life of privilege as the Kook prince, getting everything he wants without question, never having to deal with the consequences of his actions. What happens when you enter his life - a gorgeous mechanic who couldn't give less of a shit about who he is or how much money his family has?
Small complication... You're Barry's little sister.
Fandom: Outer Banks
Main Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x Reader
Chapter One: Out Of My Element
Chapter Two: Tide's Pulling Me In Deeper
Chapter Three: Walking On Broken Glass
Chapter Four: Kaleidoscope Of Colors
Chapter Five: Planets All Align
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The chokehold that first picture of Drew has on me is crazy honestly
#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe obx#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey smut#obx rafe#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey angst#rafe cameron x reader#rafe#rafe outer banks
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PLEASEEEE can u show the time where reader caught rafe punching the squishmallows that really sent me
"don't laugh, okay?" you say it softly, right outside the door to your bedroom.
"why would i laugh?" rafe’s asking seriously, but you're already a tiny bit embarrassed of what lies on the other side of the door and you're unsure how rafe will react.
"it's, like, a third of the size of your room-"
"shut up and open the door."
you sigh, turning the handle and pushing to let yourself in first. rafe follows, staring around the tiny room observantly. his eyes flicker from corner to corner, taking it in. you stand to the side patiently, playing with your hands, in particular the ring rafe had just gotten you, fiddling and twisting it repeatedly.
he walks around for a second, stopping at your bookshelf to take a look at the titles on the shelves and then moving on, staring at the photos on the wall and then sniffing a stray candle on the nightstand. he finally stops at your dresser, glancing over the lotions and perfumes littered on top to stare at the framed picture of the two of you perched right in the center, odds and ends he's gotten you in the last month scattered around.
"so?" you question quietly, eyes big.
"which drawer's got your panties?"
"rafe! shut up."
"it's a cute room. why'd you get so worried?"
"i don't know. habit." you settle on the bed, bringing your biggest squishmallow onto your lap, holding it in your arms comfortingly. rafe's still looking around.
"always had one favorite color, huh?"
"yes," you admit, squeezing the stuffed animal harder. rafe finally comes to join you on the bed, gesturing to the squishmallow as soon as he does.
"what the hell is that?"
"this is ricky. he's a clownfish. he has a career, i just can't remember-"
"huh?"
"they all have jobs and hobbies, rafe. the squishmallows. i think he's an underwater singer or something."
"you sleep with that huge thing on the bed?"
"every night. when i'm here, at least. i should get one for tannyhill!"
"don't know about all that." he takes it into his hands, moving it around, observing it from all sides. "every single night?"
"yeah. why?"
"nothin'."
the conversation changes to the books on your nightstand, and you forget all about the squishmallow resting on your bed until you step out to get a cup of lemonade for rafe.
walking back in, you wonder if you put enough sugar in, when you open the door to see rafe smacking your squishmallow with his right hook, right to his little face.
"what are you doing?!" it spills out before you can stop it, the lemonade almost falling out of your hand.
"look at the dent. how does it go back to how it was?" he questions, while you look over at him, horrified. "what's inside it? feathers, or some shit?" he looks over to get an answer, when he looks at your distraught face.
"what?"
even when he sleeps over, he's never allowed to touch your squishmallow again.
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vodka red bull
words: 300
warnings: drinking, partying
“rafey.” you coo, stumbling over to land on his lap, melting into his body immediately.
“jesus, kid, how much did you have to drink?” rafe asks, straightening you out so youre not in such a revealing position, making sure to pull your skirt down to cover more of your legs.
“not that much.” you try to say innocently, but your slightly slurred speech tells rafe everything he needs to know.
“alright, why don’t you just relax right here?” rafe pats your thigh. you nod and tuck your head into rafes neck, happy to sit there while he resumes talking with his friends, hand absentmindedly stroking over your leg.
you tune out their conversation in favor of pressing gentle kisses to rafes neck, keeping them soft so as to not annoy him but not able to resist when his skin is so close to your lips.
rafe leans forward to pick up his cup off the table, arm wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed into him, knowing you’re too drunk to keep yourself from falling, especially when you’re so wrapped up and focused on kissing him.
“mmm, gimme some.” you pick your head up to reach for rafes cup, but he holds it out of your reach, his arm outstretched.
“please.” you whine when rafe laughs at you, tipping the plastic cup back into his mouth, finishing it off before tossing it onto the table.
his hands squeeze at your cheeks, and your eyes widen when you realize rafe is actually going to allow you to have some of his drink as your mouth opens. he swallows most of the alcohol, but spits the last into your mouth, which you happily swallow with a smile on your face.
you lean forward to press your lips to rafes as a thank you, leaning back into his chest when you realize all his friends have gone silent, staring at the two of you.
“what?” you hum.
“he just spat vodka into your mouth.” kelce states, eyebrows raised.
“nooo.” you shake your head with a laugh. “he spat vodka red bull into my mouth, sillies.” you roll your eyes, turning your attention back towards kissing rafe.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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i think jennette mccurdy deserves to be given a shotgun and power armor and to chase dan schneider through a maze and go doomguy on his ass and personally send him to hell
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a r m s
#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe obx#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey smut#obx rafe#drew starkey x reader
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dreams come true
Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Mattheo can't resist each other and have some fun in a tattoo shop.
Warning: Tattoo Artist AU!Mattheo, Dirty talk, Takes place AFTER Hogwarts, Smut (18+), No use of Y/N.
Note: I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to write this but personal Tumblr friends know this was a long time coming. Based on feral thoughts from @finalgirllx tattoo Mattheo edits (Please go check them out if you haven't). @cafekitsune for the banner as always! Hope you enjoy!
Mattheo raised an eyebrow, looking up from his drawing station when the bell of the shop’s door rang. It didn’t take long for him to recognize you. A grin spread across his face.
“Back already, Love?” Mattheo’s sultry voice asked, pulling your attention to him. You tilted your head, a smile curving into your lips. “Missed me, Riddle?” You leaned over his drawing station, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.
Mattheo kept his eyes trained on your face. He knew if his eyes wondered, they would go straight to your chest. As much as he loved to flirt with you and found you insanely gorgeous, you were still a client and he needed to be professional.
“More than you know, Princess.” Mattheo stood up, walking around the table to tower over you. “What are you here for now?”
Mattheo had tattooed you last month, so he was shocked that you were already back for another one. You looked up at Mattheo through your lashes, “I have a new tattoo idea.”
“Well, spill the beans.” He leaned against the table, focusing on you. He crossed his arms across his chest, unintentionally flexing his muscles while showing off his ink-covered arms. You wet your lips, dragging your eyes from his arms to his eyes. “A dragon.” You said.
“A dragon?” Mattheo asked, looking at you curiously. You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Specifically, a Hebridean Black dragon, but more colorful.”
Mattheo smirked, walking back around the table, retaking his seat. He picked up his pencil to start a sketch. “I’m assuming you’re picking the Hebridean for its enormous size. This will be a large tattoo, huh?” He asked, eyes focused on the paper in front of him.
“You know me so well, Riddle.” You laughed, “Yes, this will be a large tattoo. I want it to wrap around my whole thigh, the head starting on my hip and the tail ending around the knee area.”
Mattheo nodded slowly, looking at you. “Those are sensitive areas, Princess. Are you sure?”
He knew you would be fine with the areas. He had already tatted your spine, leg, ankle, sternum, and side boob. He was the one who wouldn’t be okay. Mattheo was using every ounce of restraint to stop himself from simply bending you over one of these tables and taking you there.
“Of course, I’ll be okay.” You raised your eyebrow. “Who do you think I am? Some rookie?”
Mattheo chuckled at the question. “Fine. You got it, Princess. You can hang out in my station while I get it drawn up and printed.”
You smiled at him, walking into the familiar room. All the ink and equipment were neatly placed and clean. You sat on the tattoo bench, leaning back as you waited for Mattheo to join you in the room. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. Mattheo entered the room with the printed-out stencil and a pair of smooth, black rubber gloves.
“I forgot to bring a change of pants.” You said, slightly embarrassed, “This was a kind of impulsive decision.”
Mattheo stared at you before shrugging. “I’m comfortable if you just want to do it in your underwear, Princess.”
You smiled, standing up and peeling your jeans off. Mattheo turned on his heels fast to face the wall. His eyes trained on the ceiling as he took a deep breath. You laid back on the table, looking over at him. “I’m ready, Matty.”
Mattheo nodded, clearing his throat. He slid his gloves on as he watched you shift around on the bench in just your underwear and top. He held back his groan and pulled up his chair. He prayed to Merlin that he would make it out of this session with a piece of his dignity.
The beginning of the session was easy. Mattheo focused on the designs while he listened to you rant about how hard school was. It wasn’t until he got to the inner part of your thigh that it got difficult.
To have precise lines on your tattoo, you had to spread your legs with Mattheo nestled in the middle of them. He gripped your thigh, keeping the skin stretched as he worked. He couldn’t focus on what you were talking about or what he was even tattooing. He thanked Merlin for his motor skills because if he was still a rookie, this would end with a lawsuit.
You couldn’t help but notice Mattheo’s heavy breathing so close to your core. It was making you wetter than you ever expected it to. Of course, you were attracted to Mattheo, and with him so close but so far away from fulfilling your fantasies, it was killing you.
The room fell into a comfortable silence as you couldn’t keep your voice leveled anymore and Mattheo kept his mouth closed and his eyes focused on the tattoo. After a few more hours, Mattheo finally finished your tattoo and looked at you proudly.
“It looks good, Princess. I would have never thought to do this if you hadn’t asked.” Mattheo observed it, “I ran out of wrap, so I need to run over to the store to get some. Just give me like 10 minutes, okay?”
You nodded, smiling at him. “Of course, I’ll be here.”
Mattheo winked at you before leaving the shop, locking the door behind him so no one just walked in and scared you. You let out a breath of relief, your hand traveling to your underwear. You hooked your finger around the cloth, pulling it to the side and letting another finger tease your folds. You were soaked.
“How the fuck am I this wet? He didn’t even do anything.” You mutter to yourself. You glanced around the room, sighing softly before dipping two fingers into yourself.
It was probably a terrible idea to finger yourself in Mattheo’s shop and on his tattoo bench, but your desire was stronger than your common sense at that moment.
“F-fuck…” You moaned, keeping up the pace, “Shit, Mattheo.”
You kept going, wanting to reach your climax before Mattheo got back. You picked up the pace of your fingers, now slamming them into yourself. Your moans were loud, and your thoughts were so clouded that all your awareness was thrown out the window.
With your eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, and fingers still buried deep in your pussy, you reached your orgasm. You let out a deep breath of relief as you finished.
“That was a nice show to come back to, Princess.”
You jumped to cover yourself, and widened your eyes, looking at the door where Mattheo leaned against the frame. He had his arms crossed, his muscles flexing and his tattoos moving. Your jaw slacked open as you tried to find any excuse for what he had seen.
“I…. Mattheo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…. I wasn’t….”
Mattheo sat the wrap down on the table, walking over to you with a smirk plastered on his face. He placed a hand on your leg, moving them apart slowly. You looked between him and his hand, pulling your lip between your teeth.
He bent down to lie between your fully spread legs, groaning at the wetness that he was met with. “Fuck, you wanted me this bad, Princess?”
He took a finger, rubbing it over your clit, adding a small amount of pressure. You let out a whimper, gripping the sides of the bench. “Mattheo….”
“I’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy for so long. Wanting to hear you moan my name since I’ve heard that beautiful voice of yours.” He looked up at you. “And now you’ve soaked my bench just thinking about me?”
“I didn’t mean to……I just…You were so close that I got turned on.” You whispered, letting out a moan as he dipped his finger into you, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.
“I’m not mad, Princess.” He kissed your thigh. “I want to hear it again.”
Mattheo dipped his head down, sucking your clit into his mouth as he added another finger inside of you, picking up the pace. Your hands flew to his curls, tangling your hands into them, tugging slightly. Mattheo groaned softly at that, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.
“Fuck, Matty, Oh my Gods.” You whimpered out. He slid his fingers out and hooked his hand around your thighs, being careful of your tattoo. Pulling you close, he flicked his tongue up and down your clit, letting it occasionally slip into you. You bucked your hips as you felt another orgasm coming. “Matty, I’m about to, fuck, I’m about to cum.”
“Good. Be a good girl for me and cum all over my tongue, Princess.”
You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up to grind out your climax on Mattheo’s face. Mattheo chuckled. Standing up, he sunk his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off his finger.
“Sweet.” Mattheo smirked at you, “Now c’mere.”
He grabbed the wrap off the table, effectively wrapping your tattoo before pulling you off the bench and to the floor so you were on your knees in front of him. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your hands trailed up his legs and over the growing bulge in his pants. “Go ahead, pretty girl.” Mattheo’s voice came out soft and demanding. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper, eventually popping open to allow you to tug them down.
Mattheo smirk, moving your hands gently and tugging his boxers and pants down quicker, stepping out of them. He let out a small grunt as he pumped himself slowly, precum already dripping from his tip. He reached his hand out, weaving it into your hair and gripping it from the roots as he pulled your head back. Your mouth fell open, in shock and want, causing Mattheo to smirk down at you. “Look at you, such a needy slut. You want my cock that bad?”
“Yes,” You whined softly, squeezing your legs together, “Please, I want it.”
Mattheo stepped closer to you, causing you to widen your legs a bit. “Don’t go trying to pleasure yourself, Princess. Wait for your turn. Now, open your mouth.” You followed his directions quickly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.
Mattheo groaned at the sight of you being so obedient to him. He slapped his cock against your tongue before pushing his hips forward and jutting his cock into the warmth of your mouth. His body shivered at the moan you released from just having him in your mouth. “This is what you wanted, huh? For me to face fuck you in my shop? Am I making all those dirty little fantasies come true?”
Mattheo moved his hips at a faster pace, slamming in and out of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as saliva trailed down your chin and chest. Your mind was dazed as your core got hotter and hotter from the rough actions. Mattheo’s moans were enough to keep you riled up. “You look so fucking pretty, Princess. Choking on my dick, eyes filled with tears from pleasuring me. Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”
Your heart leaped at the praises. To make Mattheo feel good and use you in whichever way he wanted is what you desired this entire time. Your endless wet dreams and daydream fantasies were a reality. You felt Mattheo’s thrusts get sloppier and more reckless as he let out a string of curses. “I’m about to cum. I’m going to cum in this slutty fucking mouth of yours.”
He pulled your head closer to him as he released deep down your throat, ensuring that you didn’t waste a drop. He groaned softly, pulling out of your mouth to let you relax. He leaned over, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He gently wiped your tears and pulled you in to meet his lips. The kiss was passionate and feverish as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You moaned into it as you stood up, not breaking the kiss.
Mattheo kept one hand on your jaw as he wrapped his arm around your body to roughly palm your ass. He walked you backwards to the tattoo bench, causing you to instinctively jump up on it. Mattheo pulled only an inch away from your lips, mumbling softly to you, “You better stop me now, Princess. If this is something you don’t want….”
“I want it. I want it so bad, Matty. It’s all I’ve thought about since I’ve met you.” You reassure him, your hand reaching down to jerk him off slowly. “I want you. I need you, Mattheo.”
“Fuck, Princess.” Mattheo groaned, kissing you deeply before pushing you on your back and positioning you on the edge of the bench. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and wrapped the other one around his waist. Grabbing the shaft of his dick, he teased your folds before pushing his tip into you.
Whimpers fell from your mouth as Mattheo teased you with just his tip. “Matty…. please….”
“You’re so fucking hot when you beg for me.” Mattheo said, sinking into you. He groaned at the warmth and tightness. “So, fucking warm, Princess. Tell me when to go, baby.”
“G-go…. You can go.” You moaned, gripping the side of the bench. Mattheo didn’t waste time to thrust. His slow thrusts didn’t last long because, within seconds, he was pounding into you. Your moans drowned the creaks of the tattoo bench out. “Fuck, Mattheo, feels s’good.” You babbled; your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
“You’re taking me so fucking well, Princess. Such a good fucking slut, letting me rail you on my tattoo bench.” Mattheo groaned, his hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boobs. “My pretty little slut, aren’t you?”
The touching, the thrusting, and the dirty talk were making your mind fuzzy. Pleasure taking over your body was making it impossible for your mind to string together any type of words. “I asked you a question, Princess, answer me,” Mattheo grunted, taking his hand from under your shirt and moving it to wrap around your throat while leaning forward to plunge deeper into you. You mewled at the feeling, your hand gripping his sides and clawing up his back.
“Y-yes! I’m…. I’m your p-pretty little slut.” You finally pushed out, “Fuck, Mattheo.”
Mattheo left wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone. “I’ve been wanting this for so long. To hear your pretty voice moan my name, to hear you beg for me to fuck you. You’re a fucking dream come true.”
Mattheo moved his hand from your neck to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to fuck you. You whimpered at the overstimulation. “I want you to cum all over my dick, Princess. Make a mess all over me and my tattoo bench.”
You moaned, feeling the growing knot in your stomach as you got closer to your climax. One more thrust from Mattheo had you whining and your legs shaking. Tears pricked your eyes once more as Mattheo kept thrusting and rubbing your clit. “I can’t- I can’t take no more, Matty.” You whined, looking up at him.
“Yes, you can. You can take more until I cum, baby girl. I’m almost there, I’m going to cum in this pretty pussy.” Mattheo said, “Gonna let me breed you, Princess? Fill you up with my seed?”
“Yes, please, cum in me. I want it, I want it so bad.” You babbled.
“Good fucking girl,” Mattheo mumbled, groaning as his thrusts became more erratic. He slammed into you once more, burying himself deep into you as he came in you. He pulled out slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you up into his chest. “That was amazing, Princess. You’re amazing.” He whispered into your ear.
“Thank you.” You felt a blush rush to your face. “Guess I should go pay now, huh?”
Mattheo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You think you’re paying after all that?”
“It’s only right that I pay you for your work.” You said, your eyes meeting his.
“Trust me, Princess, you’ve paid me with something way more valuable than money.” Mattheo smirked. “And now that’s all I want. I’ll tattoo anything on you for it.”
You blushed, laughing at him. Your heart raced at all the future possibilities with Mattheo.
Today was truly a dream come true.
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Lessons in Love
(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)
Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader
Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.
word count: 3.3k
A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.
It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.
Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.
Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)
But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.
“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.
Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.
“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”
You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.
“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.
“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.
Enzo’s face falls at this.
“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.
“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,” you reply with exasperation.
He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.
“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.
“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.
“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.
“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.
Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.
“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.
You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.
The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.
You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.
“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.
This putrid, skanky little-
“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“
A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.
“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.
The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.
“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.
Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.
“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.
You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.
“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.
Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.
“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”
Theo takes another step forward.
“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.
“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.
“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?
Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.
“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.
“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.
“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.
He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.
“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.
Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.
“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?
“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.
You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.
“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.
“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.
You feel yourself cringe.
“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”
“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.
“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.
Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.
“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.
Theo scowls at the nickname.
“Campfire.”
“Old parchment.” You say in unison.
Pansy smirks.
“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”
Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.
“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.
Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.
“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,
“This is entirely your fault.”
Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.
“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.
“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”
Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.
“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.
“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.
“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”
Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.
“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.
You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.
“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.
Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.
“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.
The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.
“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.
The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.
“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.
“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.
Theo only raises a brow at you.
“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.
Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.
“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.
“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.
He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.
“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.
“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”
“And Daphne’s shampoo.”
You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.
“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.
You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.
“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.
“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.
Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.
“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.
You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.
“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.
“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.
Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.
“Better?”
You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.
“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.
“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”
You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.
“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.
“One kiss.”
He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.
An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.
“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”
You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.
“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.
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The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) dir. Peter Jackson
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