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#Lost dream's echo
clownpalette · 2 months
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Let's stay here in our perfect world.. Where no one can hurt us<3
I'd be nice if it were real..
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Don't wake up...! STAY WITH ME !!!
WHO REMEMBERS THIS?? It's a redraw of the the 👇👇
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koskela-knights · 2 months
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Lost at sea
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nugothrhythms · 9 months
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"Dreaming" by Portland, Oregon-based darkgaze band Lost Echoes off of their 2022 album Stars
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themagical1sa · 2 years
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stop feeling like crying while listening to Deja Vu by Dreamcatcher challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)
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p0pp3t · 2 years
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crystalkitty1220 · 2 years
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So you know how you said a bunch of shit keeps happening to me?
Well the friend that was staying with me went home, but yesterday she came out as trans and I’m very happy for her, but the dude she’s dating is gay, and he says that he doesn’t think he’s gay anymore but a few hours ago he was upfront with her and said that some things about everything make the relationship uncomfortable for him, so even though my friend running away has been resolved, I have to fucking help with their relationship, while dealing with 2 of my friends ex’s constantly making us uncomfortable AND my friend being catcalled now that she’s presenting as female
I CANT CATCH A BREAK FOR FUCKS SAKE
1) proud of your friend for coming out :D
2) you've got antihero luck my dude
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lxmbs-rxspite · 7 months
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Tag Drop
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solsarts · 6 months
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Led through the mist By the milk-light of Moon All that was lost, is revealed
Our long bygone burdens, mere echoes of the spring But where have we come, and where shall we end?
If dreams can't come true, then why not pretend?
Oh, how the gentle wind Beckons through the leaves As autumn colors fall
Dancing in a swirl Of golden memories The loveliest lies of all 🍂♪
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clownpalette · 2 months
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I had to draw them. I just had to. 💀💀
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Wow it turned out pretty nice! 😮 look at them! 💞
Reblog pwetty pwease? 👉👈💞
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tonycries · 2 months
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Dream A Little Dream - G.S.
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Synopsis. For the strongest, it was a privilege to dream. Especially when his dream is you. 
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. fem! reader, established relationship, implied sex, fluff, soft and sleepy Satoru, very slight manga spoilers, just Satoru loving on you and your future together.
Word count. 0.8k
A/N. Probably gonna delete. Art by @_3aem on X.
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It’s times like this - when the quiet morning sun is just peeking in through your window, in the still haze of your naked body peacefully intertwined with his that Satoru allows himself to dream.
He dreams of everything - from the strawberry lollipops he snuck into the Gojo Estate as a kid to the time when he forgot Megumi at the mall. 
But mostly, he dreams of you.
Eyes still veiled with sleep, wandering the expanse of your face, a hand tenderly running along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Thumb softly catching on the corner of your mouth, slightly quirked up, he wonders what you’re dreaming of. 
Do you dream of him too?
Because Satoru’s favorite dream will always be the one with you. 
Your laughter in the morning light as he smothers you in kisses, how it rings in his ears and carries through his day. If there’s one thing Satoru knows, it’s that he would burn this entire godforsaken world down to keep it there. Even in the face of violence, his favorite song.
Reaching out to softly kiss your fingers, the hands which hold his heart and his future. 
Unhurriedly, he caresses that empty spot on your ring finger. Soon. 
Little black box burning a hole into that hidden corner of his dresser, Satoru absentmindedly wonders whether you would go for a flowing gown or more of a sleek design? He dreams of the delicate lace under his fingers, the gentle sway of the fabric and the blue bouquet to match his eyes. 
A huff of laughter, followed by a melancholic twinge of his heart, finds its way into the still morning air as he imagines the way Nanamin would have been crying very reluctant tears of joy.
Long fingers deftly run along the expanse of your body, drawing patterns on the marks he’s left to remember him by, resting on your stomach. He dreams of a world where he is there to see you run around with a few white-haired bundles of joy. All of them with your personality of course - he couldn’t handle having to fight with some mini versions of himself over you.
And they may be closed for now, but he dreams of the twinkle in your eyes as they meet his, the promise of a beautiful day ahead. 
He can only pray that they always look at him that way. Even when the shine of your eyes dim with age, the chapters of your story showing on your face. The dream where you two complain about your first gray hairs - him cackling about you finally joining the club. 
It might not seem like it, but in the blood and merciless gore of jujutsu, a part of the strongest always thinks back to the heaven he’s found in you. 
The heaven where you both cry over your kids leaving the nest, and later he’d fervently deny his teary eyes - secretly wiping the tears off his glasses. 
Where you spend quiet evenings on the porch, wrapped in blankets and reminiscing about the adventures of your youth. Did he ever tell you that story where he lost the tickets to a movie and had to sneak into the theater with Shoko and Suguru? Boy, did he get an earful from Yaga that day.
The dream where he’s surrounded by you and all your warmth. In the cold pain that comes with being the strongest, he can only hope that a day will come where his strength - rather than being used to kill - holds your future with ready arms. 
Ripping his eyes off of your face, they wander the room bathed in the soft morning glow. Mapping the empty spaces which you two would fill with pictures. The walls which would echo with laughter and whisper tales of serenity.
First days at school, graduations, all the friends and foes lost along the years - and one big picture of you in that beautiful white dress, right in the middle. All beauty and grace. His beautiful bride. A dream where his last name is a melody not a death sentence.
He dreams he’s there to fetch your walking cane to stroll through your little garden with a cup of his famous morning tea. He’d hold your hand as he always does, both trembling and frail with age. He dreams he would kiss the beautiful wrinkles on the corners of your eyes, only for you to push him away bashfully complaining about the grandkids seeing.
Blue eyes faded and the joy of the years showing on his face, not as strong or as vibrant as he once was, limitless nothing more but a trick to make his grandkids smile. Not a weapon, but just your Satoru. He hopes you’ll still be there to love him.
And he dreams he’s there.
He wants to be there. 
“Satoru?”
Satoru’s heart lurches as those beautiful eyes crack open, still foggy with sleep. A glimpse of that smile he found heaven in, and you pull him closer. Understanding. Skin heated against his, no one but you two in this quiet world.
All is well in your little heaven.
Today, the strongest will face Ryomen Sukuna, the fate of the world burdened upon his shoulders. But for now, Satoru is held fragilely in your arms.
For now, he is yours. 
He only dreams he can be forevermore. 
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A/N. Tony writing something that isn’t smut??? The world is coming to an end.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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youryanderedaddy · 2 months
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Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend
tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark
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It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.
You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.
"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.
"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.
"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"
You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.
"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"
You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.
"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.
"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.
"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.
"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"
"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"
He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.
"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.
But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.
"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."
You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.
"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."
"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."
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seonghrtz · 5 months
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teen!megumi ★ seeing you hurt is one of the things that has terrified megumi since he was a kid !
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Megumi has always loved you. Perhaps from the moment Gojo carried him to your house when he was younger. You were the mother figure he never had, the person he knew he could rely on in any situation, the person he didn't have to be mature with all the time. You were always his safe haven.
Megumi may not have known how to express his own feelings or how to verbally express his adoration for you ⸻ he wasn't like Gojo, who was always making declarations of love to you. Sometimes Megumi envied Gojo for the ease with which he could say 'I love you' to you. But it never seemed to matter to you whether Megumi expressed his adoration for you verbally or not, it wasn't necessary as you understood it through his actions. You knew Megumi like the back of your hand and he was eternally grateful for that.
That's why one of Megumi's worst nightmares was losing you.
If he lost you, what would become of him? How would he manage without your care? How would Megumi survive in this world without being able to hide in your arms?
So when Megumi saw your exhausted and bruised body being thrown across the battlefield, he felt his whole body tremble and a sense of despair consume him.
Desperate, Megumi ran towards you, leaving Itadori and Kugisaki to fight the curse. And when he saw you lying on the floor with your eyes closed, bruises all over your exposed skin and bright crimson blood dripping from your forehead and mouth, Megumi's legs went weak and he fell to his knees beside you. With trembling hands Megumi grabbed your shoulders and rocked you, hoping that you would open your eyes and say that everything was fine. But unfortunately this utopian fantasy didn't come true.
Maybe it was all just a dream. A nightmare of that night ⸻ the night you sacrificed yourself to save Megumi when he was still a child. And if it was just a nightmare, Megumi would wake up at any moment and run into your arms. You would hold him with such affection and love that he wouldn't be able to hold back the tears because he knew you were all right.
But Megumi didn't wake up.
And it wasn't a nightmare, it was reality.
Megumi's voice faltered and he held back his tears, you were there, in front of him, injured, on the verge of death, and he could do absolutely nothing, powerless in a critical situation.
"Hey, Fushiguro!" Yuji ran over to where Megumi was standing, "I think I'd better take Kamo-sensei to Shoko-san, Nobara's already called Kiyotaka-san.” The pink-haired boy looked at his friend and felt sad for him. Itadori had heard Megumi's story and how Gojo and Kamo had saved the little boy (and his sister) from the clutches of the Zenin clan. And Itadori also knew how much Megumi admired and loved the woman he called his mother, it was evident in his expression. "Come on, Fushiguro, we'd better go quickly if we don't want to lose her."
Without saying a word Megumi slipped his arms around your back and behind your knees and started to run with you in his arms to where the car was parked, waiting for the sorcerers.
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The corridor was dark and cold. Megumi was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, his head down, holding back his tears. He couldn't cry, he had to be strong ⸻ be strong for you. Megumi had to stay positive, Shoko would save you no matter what.
"It's going to be all right." Gojo's voice echoed through the silent corridor. Megumi raised his head and met his sensei's crystal blue orbs. "Y/n is one of the strongest sorceresses there is, she's seen worse.”
"It's my fault." Megumi's voice was deep, "It's my fault that she's in this situation..."
"Don't blame yourself Megumi. It wasn't your fault."
"I should have paid more attention and listened to her instructions."
"Situations like this happen all the time when you're a jujutsu sorcerer, don't blame yourself for something you couldn't do. And Y/n is fine, she'll be fine, I know my wife very well. And I also know that she would hate to see you get hurt on her watch, so don't blame yourself for giving her life to save you." Gojo's hand reached for Megumi's head, ruffling the boy's ebony locks. "You better go to your room, I'll call you when she wakes up."
"I don't want to go."
"Don't be stubborn. Y/n will make me sleep on the sofa if she finds out I've let you sleep in the hallway."
"That's your problem, I'm not going."
"Come on, Megumi! I thought we were past that stage." Gojo sat down beside Fushiguro. "Are you going to get the silent treatment now?" A short laugh escaped Gojo's lips when he noticed Megumi's lack of reaction. "Okay then…”
The next day, Megumi woke up to a conversation next to him. He noticed Gojo and Shoko talking outside the room you were in.
"Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?" Gojo smiled in the direction of Megumi who got up from the floor and stretched slightly, "She wants to see you."
"Is Mom awake?" He asked hopefully.
"Go ahead, I'll be right back with breakfast." Gojo gave Megumi a light squeeze on the shoulder before leaving with Shoko.
With a little trepidation Megumi slowly opened the bedroom door and saw you lying on the bed in the corner of the room, close to the wall. With light, quiet steps, the boy walked to the edge of the bed and stood, watching you. You were clean, not a drop of blood running down your face, and the bandages on your wounds were clean too. You were well. You were alive.
"Megumi..." You spoke quietly and opened your eyes, startling the boy a little.
"Mom..." his voice was weak, surprised and relieved at the same time.
You raised your hand and brought it close to Megumi's face. The boy, who had expected you to stroke his cheek with your thumb, was surprised when you tugged at his ear.
"Mom!"
"I told you to stay out of danger, Fushiguro Megumi." You said seriously, but then stopped pulling on his ear and hugged him, "Thank you for saving me.”
"You scared me..."
"I'm sorry, my dear." You smiled and released Megumi from your embrace, "I wouldn't let you get hurt, not for a second time."
"I'm not a child, I can take care of myself." A pout formed on Megumi's lips.
"I know, I know." You laughed at the younger man's reaction, "And of course you know how to handle yourself, you're my son, but you'll always be my little boy.”
Without thinking, Megumi hugged you again. Sinking his face into the curve of your neck, he felt a motherly affection that he had never known until he met you, and he let the tears roll down his cheeks.
After all, you were his mother and he was your son.
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© SEONGHRTZ, 2023ㅤ⸻ㅤall rights reserved. please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !
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Only in Dreams
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries
a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.
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There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate. 
He had learned that early on. 
In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker. 
But you were also his mate. 
The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization. 
“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows. 
And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats. 
“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”
Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise. 
“Azriel—” 
“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.” 
“You were talking with Rhys?” 
It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak. 
But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate. 
As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea. 
And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough. 
Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated. 
You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you. 
You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did. 
But then Rhys decided you were needed. 
With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare. 
“Reconsider.” 
“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time. 
“Send Majda.” 
Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.” 
“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words. 
“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—” 
“Rhysand.” 
Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.
“Is she…” 
The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.” 
Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?” 
“No,” he replied, quick and low. 
“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.” 
And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that. 
When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it. 
He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.
There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought. 
“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant. 
Why couldn’t he come, again? 
Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him. 
“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered. 
“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.” 
Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving. 
“Here to see us off, Az?” 
That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were. 
So, you went to Windhaven. 
And then you came home hurt. 
Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries. 
Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue. 
You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it. 
Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds. 
Azriel thought he heard you scream. 
“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.
“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him. 
Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?” 
Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.” 
The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped. 
“She’s your mate?” 
“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room. 
The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off. 
He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now. 
Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you. 
When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe. 
He was a fool. 
“Azriel?” 
He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up. 
When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze. 
“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”
The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there. 
It took him a moment, but he finally relented. 
“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—” 
“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.
It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest. 
You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something. 
Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto. 
“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth. 
Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.” 
“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse. 
“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…” 
There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.
Determination set a line in his brow. 
“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—” 
“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?” 
Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie. 
“Only when I dream.” 
You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.
As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life. 
And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.
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caramelcal · 10 months
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you'll always be my girl - t. nott
summary: theodore nott was your brother's best friend, and had been the boy of your dreams since you first lay eyes on him. everyone knew that. so it's a surprise when you suddenly get a boyfriend, and theodore is determined to show you why he's the better choice. always has been and always will be.
warnings: all characters are of age. smut, cheating. all that fun stuff. theo is reader's brother's best friend. reader pined for YEARS but it faded away when she got with her boyfriend. she's a bit of a pushover. virgin!reader. dom!theo. sub!reader. modern au. lots of swearing. arguing. praise kink. overstimulation. dirty talk.
note: this prob isn't great, i don't write smut often idk
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"Mate move! Move! He's behind that wall." Theodore shouted, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tapped the keys on his controller trying to be revived faster.
"Fuck! I can't find him," Lorenzo had replied, a similar tone to Theodore's as their eyes were both glued to the screen in front of them.
It was only the two of them at Lorenzo's tonight, something that wasn't overly uncommon for the two of them to do. Despite being close with the rest of their group, Theodore and Lorenzo spent the most time together just the two of them. Theodore practically lived at the Berkshire's house half the time nowadays, finding it much warmer than his own.
Honestly, it was more shocking if he wasn't at the Berkshires.
"Over there! Shit!" Lorenzo cursed, the loud, violent tapping of buttons ensuing at a more alarming rate from the two of them.
"Where's his-"
"Theo! Theo! The-" A red alert came over the screen, letting the two boys know that they had lost the game. They both put their controllers down, Lorenzo using the palms of his hands to rub his eyes in frustration, and Theodore throwing his head back with a groan.
"We really ought to get better at this mode, or we need to just stick to doubles," Theodore said, looking over at his friend who chuckled with a nod.
Mr and Mrs Berkshire were both out for the night, away on holiday, or business or whatever, Lorenzo didn't tell Theodore all the details. Theodore didn't particularly care anyway, it didn't make a big difference to him.
Lorenzo's parents were lovely to him, always greeting him pleasantly, always happy to see him, and telling him he was welcome at any time. They had even unofficially allocated one of the spare bedrooms in their house to Theo, who was eternally grateful for the escape it gave him.
"Enzo, I'm home!" Theo's attention was directed towards the door, where he heard someone kicking off their shoes by the door before walking towards the living room.
Y/n Berkshire. Lorenzo's younger sister. He was honestly surprised he hadn't noticed earlier that you weren't there. Even though you normally tucked yourself in the small library in the house, he had been here for hours and hadn't heard a peep from you.
Sure, you were normally quiet, but normally you at least said hello.
While growing up with Lorenzo, Y/n was never normally far behind. You had adored your brother when you were younger, and even as you both got older you remained close. Theodore on the other hand, had elicited a different sort of adoration from the younger girl. One that brought a blush to your face every time he spoke to you, or even looked in your direction.
It had been that way for years, and honestly, Theodore couldn't remember a time when you had been able to look him in the eye for longer than five seconds before getting too shy and looking away.
Footsteps echoed towards the living room, and the second you came into view, Theodore's eyebrows furrowed. Your body was covered in a silk dress, your hair styled perfectly and makeup on your face. You looked fancy, and Theodore could not imagine what you possibly could have been doing to require such an appearance.
There certainly weren't any parties on, if there had been, Lorenzo and Theodore would have been the first ones to know.
"How was your date?" Lorenzo didn't even look back at his sister as you sat down on the other couch, a sigh of relief as you sunk back into the comfortable material.
A date? The question had Theodore baffled. You had been on a date? With who? It certainly made the appearance seem more logical, you looked pretty. You had made that effort for a boy.
"It was good," You nodded your head, not looking over at your brother either as you grabbed the book that sat on the coffee table, flipping it open to the page you had dogeared earlier on that day so you could continue reading.
"You were on a date? With who?" Theodore asked.
"Oh, hi Teddy," You looked up from your book, sending a small smile to your brother's best friend, only just noticing him, "Adrian Pucey, he's in your year."
Teddy. The name you had called him since you started to talk. Everyone had called him Teddy when he was growing up, including Enzo, his parents and yours, but you were the only one that didn't grow out of it.
"It's Theo, y/n/n," Lorenzo had corrected you, as he always did, knowing how much Theodore despised the nickname now that he was older. What he'd never tell your brother though, was that he didn't mind it when you did it. It felt natural coming from your lips. He couldn't ever imagine you calling him Theo, or, god forbid, Theodore.
"Yeah, sorry," You mumbled, picking at the edge of your dress as you looked down at your lap, the book held in your other hand, a finger on the page you stopped reading on so you could keep your place now that you had straightened out the fold.
"Why are you going on a date with Adrian Pucey, he's…"
Theodore wasn't sure what to call him. Annoying? Arrogant? Not good enough for you?
"My boyfriend?"
"Your boyfriend?" Theodore echoed, his eyes almost bulging out of his head and jaw almost falling onto the floor. His tone was incredulous as if you having a boyfriend was completely out of the question.
"Well, that's new," Lorenzo murmured under his breath, not loud enough for you to hear, but loud enough for Theodore.
His tone let Theodore know that he, too, was not too happy about the arrangement. Adrian wasn't 'boyfriend material' and certainly not good enough for you. He was sleazy, and an average quidditch player at best.
"Yeah, is it so unbelievable that I could get a boyfriend?" Your tone -despite your word choice seeming a little sassy- was soft. Your eyes battered between the two boys, eyebrows furrowed as you sat forward.
Silence ensued between the three of you, your eyes still battering between the two boys, both of which didn't know what to say. It wasn't surprising that you could get a boyfriend, but your choice was certainly questionable. Frankly, they were too astonished to speak.
While Lorenzo had known you were spending more time with Adrian, he was hoping that it would fizzle away before labels got attached. He barely gave it any thought, thinking you wouldn't take a boy like Pucey so seriously. Oh, how he was wrong.
"I'm gonna head upstairs," You said quietly, sulking off the couch and quietly walking away, feeling a little ashamed that they seemed so surprised that you had managed to get your first boyfriend.
Theodore's eyes followed you, staying stuck to where you disappeared upstairs as Lorenzo broke the silence, breathing out some air, "Never expected that. Well, at least we know she's not pining over you anymore."
"Yeah, I guess."
It was less than a week later when Theodore was heading to quidditch practice, his bag slung over his shoulder, broom in his hand. He ruffled his hair with his free hand, breathing out some air as he prepared himself for what he could guess was going to be a pretty gruelling practice.
Granted, he could give himself some leeway, being the captain and all, but that didn't set a good example. They had a big game coming up in a few days and they needed to do well. There was little space for error, and Theo would make sure everyone was ready.
Hearing faint talking as he walked up to the locker room was odd, considering he was normally the first or second one there. He must've been running a few minutes late.
"-how you managed it, mate, I mean, between her being Berkshire's untouchable little sister and everyone thinking she liked Nott, you can understand why everyone's a bit surprised."
Theodore's hand halted its movement, not pushing the door open just yet as he listened in. They were talking about you.
"She just needed to know who the better boy was, didn't she?" He heard a muffled Pucey reply, "I certainly showed her."
The familiar feeling of anger began to bubble in Theodore's chest as he registered the words that came out of Pucey's words, and the laughter that followed them. Walking in, his hardened blue eyes immediately caught onto Pucey's, a silent warning.
Yet, all the smug cunt did in reply was smirk. That certainly didn't help the feeling of red, hot, anger that exploded in Theo's chest. Quidditch practice was going to be hell for him, Theo would make sure.
"Wait up!" An hour and a half later, the anger still hadn't faded from Theodore's system. His shoulders were uptight, his hand holding onto his broom with a deathly amount of force. It was a surprise the wood hadn't snapped yet.
Your light footsteps struggled to catch up with the thundering pace that Theodore kept. His eyes cast over to you beside him as you finally caught up, his hair still wet from his shower after quidditch practice.
"Can I talk to you?" You asked, looking at Theodore awkwardly. You never normally felt awkward around him, but from the way he was looking right now, you could tell he was mad, but that didn't mean you could let what happened slide.
"Mhm," He hummed in response, his eyes staying straight forward as he waited for you to speak.
"So Adrian was speaking to me and he said that you were going extra hard on him at practice. I understand that you and my brother aren't happy that we're dating but-"
"You came here to stick up for your little boyfriend?" Suddenly, Theodore had stopped walking, turning around so he was facing you. His eyes stared into yours, the anger in his voice rising.
He towered over you, making you crane your neck up to look at him, a drip of water from his wet hair falling onto your forehead. You cleared your throat lightly, not used to Theodore being in such a mood. Even if he was annoyed, he didn't normally talk to you like that.
"I- uh, yeah, kind of. I just don't think it's fair that you're punishing him. It was my choice to date him, he didn't make me."
"Listen, y/n/n, if Pucey had a problem with me, then he can come to talk to me, not send his girlfriend to sort out his issues like a fucking pussy," Theodore spat out Adrian's name like it was a disease on his tongue, his jaw clenching at the mere thought of you taking Pucey's side over his.
If you had any sense, you'd know to mind your own business. You had grown up with Theodore, you had known him for your whole life. Adrian had been your boyfriend for all of a few weeks and you were already choosing him over Theo? That was what wasn't fair, not a few more laps at training.
He saw the frown that made its way onto your face, and if he wasn't so angry at you and Adrian, then he would've crumbled. He knew you were sensitive, much more than most people, and the last thing he wanted to do normally was make you upset. Yet, if you wanted comfort then you could go to Adrian, especially after you tried to stick up for him.
Turning on his heels, Theodore began to walk away again, but it seemed you were a little more determined than normal.
"Come on Theo, you know it's not fair!"
That just about tips him over the edge. This was so unlike you, and it was all because of Adrian. You always went by what Lorenzo and Theodore said, but today you chose to stand up to Theo. You chose Adrian over Theodore and refused to let it go and now you were calling him Theo?
You had been reprimanded for over a year about still using the nickname, and a few weeks into having a boyfriend you suddenly dropped the name of endearment? That was enough.
"What was that?" Theodore stopped in his tracks the second the words had come out of your mouth, barely managing to get the words out between his gritted teeth. He looked over his shoulder at you, watching as you crossed your arms over your chest.
"You know it's unfair."
"You have no idea what's unfair, y/n."
"I know making Adri do double the number of laps as everyone else is unfair! I know knocking into him with double the power as everyone else is unfair, Theo! You're his captain, you need to be fair!"
"Stop that." His tone was reprimanding, like telling you off for doing something unspeakable. He didn't like this one bit, you talking back to him. It felt like something had been shifted and he wanted it all to go back to the way it was.
It was your turn to let out clipped, sarcastic words. Something you would have never dreamed of doing to him; the boy you had pined over for years. Yet, all you could see was an immature, childish boy, not the guy you had liked for as long as you could remember, "Stop what, Theodore?"
"Stop calling me that."
You knew exactly what he was getting at. You always had an inkling that he enjoyed the nickname you refused to drop, given that he, himself, never told you off for it. You also knew he didn't like change, and that the idea of him and Lorenzo not being your number-one priority anymore bugged him. He hated that you had a new boy in your life.
"What? Stop calling you your name?" You replied, raising an eyebrow at him as he clenched his jaw again, letting out a dark chuckle as he started to walk away.
"Just fuck off, y/n."
You didn't bother to follow him.
You and the girls were bustling about in your room, doing all sorts of things. Some were getting changed, some were doing their makeup and some, along with you, were doing their hair. It was a Halloween party that practically half of Hogwarts was going to, and luckily for you, the house was only a few minutes walk away from yours.
Lorenzo and his friends were getting ready too, but you had chosen to keep your girls in your room, completely separated from them. Frankly, it was too much tension, and drama, and you didn't want that to stomp on your excitement for the party.
"Hey, y/n, do you have any snacks? I'm starving," One of the girls piped up, stopping doing her makeup to look at you in the mirror. You nodded your head with a smile, telling her you'd be right back as you headed down to the kitchen.
There was noise coming from the tv as you walked by the living room, letting you know that some of Lorenzo's friends were probably in there, taking a mental note to avoid. You wished that he had gotten the vibe to keep his friends in his room, but your brother was clueless sometimes.
He even seemed to be clueless about the fact that you and Theodore had been ignoring one another for the last three weeks, acting as if the other didn't even exist. With your arms full of all types of snacks, you left the kitchen, making your way back up the stairs.
Your eyes are on the snacks in your hand, making sure that none of them are going to fall as you walk, only to be halted by something being in your way. You had walked into someone.
"Oh, sor-" You cut yourself off as you looked up, making eye contact with intense blue eyes staring down at you. You narrowed your eyes.
"Y/n," He had acknowledged you for the first time, but not being nearly happy about it, his mouth in a thin, straight line, and his voice apathetic.
You mirrored his tone and body language, "Theodore."
He remained looking down at you, your pretty eyes looked up at him in disdain, a constant reminder of how you guys had last interacted with one another. He was still slightly mad, more irritated than anything, about the situation, and it was clear you weren't over it either.
It was so unlike you, and he hated that. While he wanted you to stick up for yourself more regularly, he hated that it only seemed to be him that you were being resistant to. It frustrated him to no end, that your relationship after so many years had changed so much in the blink of an eye.
He missed the way you looked at him with your doe-like eyes, so hopeful and kind and soft. Now, they were narrowed, almost as if a threat for him to say something. He hated that it was like you were trying to test his patience.
His mouth opened slightly, just about to speak to you, only to not get the chance, your bedroom door opening, "Y/n, c'mon! I'm hungry!"
In an instant, your eyes are no longer looking at him, but down towards the snacks that lay in a disorganised bundle in your arms, brushing by the taller boy towards your room. You spare no attention towards him, not a word nor a glance, leaving him alone in the hallway as you continue getting ready in your room.
It doesn't feel too long after that when you are all ready, all of you bundling down the stairs ready to go to the party. You know all the boys are now in the living room, and you would have happily walked by without entertaining him, but you knew you couldn't.
"Enzo, can I have some of the money mum and dad left?" You say, coming into the room. The boys are all ready too, but you know they won't leave until the party had already started for forty-five minutes at least, too busy playing video games and not wanting to be around for the awkward start most parties have.
You adjust the wings that are on your back as you walk towards your brother, white boot heels hitting off the wooden floor, the girls falling shortly behind you.
Theodore's eyes flicker up to you casually, but when he catches sight of you his jaw almost falls off, the modest girl you are, with the shortest skirt on he's ever seen. If you turn around, he knows he's almost guaranteed to see the curve of your ass, driving his mind haywire.
You adjust your bright-coloured corset and wings once more. It's obvious that you're supposed to be a fairy, but Theodore knows you're no Tinkerbell. You're perhaps the sluttiest, most tempting fairy he's ever seen. His mind races.
Lorenzo scratched the back of his neck, "Kitchen."
You nodded your head, heading off to the kitchen as all the boys quiet down. Lorenzo looked down at his phone, as the girls all follow you out of the room, "Mate…"
"What?" Lorenzo replied as Theodore sat beside him, all the other boys engaging in small talk again.
"Are you letting your sister go wearing that? Surely you can't," Theodore's trying to keep calm, but his mind is practically begging Lorenzo to make you change. The thought of someone else seeing the curves of your naked thighs and the curve of your arse makes Theo want to die.
"Nah mate, it's not ideal, to be honest, but her mates are just…they call you all sorts and start screaming if you say anything," Lorenzo finally looked up at his best friend, and Theodore can tell that Lorenzo isn't very happy with the predicament either, "and y/n/n just doesn't listen anymore, so there's no point."
There was a point though, to Theodore anyway. He didn't care what your friends thought, or about this new attitude you had adopted since you started dating Adrian.
You're back in the living room soon enough, coming to say bye, but Theodore is quick to walk over to you, not looking very impressed. He speaks lowly, "You should go change."
"What? Why? Do I look bad?" You smooth down your skirt a little, looking up at him with your usual wide eyes, a crack in this new attitude you've been showing lately.
"No," He's quick to shut down any doubt you have about your appearance, "It's just a bit inappropriate."
"Oh, don't be a prude, Theodore," One of your friends overhears, piping up in your support.
"Go change," He paid little mind to your friends, looking down at your eyes and repeating his previous order.
"Girl, you look so hot, don't let him cramp your style," Another one of your friends joins in to support you, a hand on your shoulder as she began to steer you out, "now let's go before he has anything else to say."
The second he saw you being steered out the door and towards the party, he just knows that this night is going to be one of frustration.
His prediction was correct. Only an hour and a half later he was ready to get out of there, the strongest alcohol he could find in a glass with his hand wrapped around it. Purple strobe lights, people laughing, and loud music all seem to fade into the background as his eyes focus on you. He could tell Pucey was trying to rile him up, and it was working.
His hands have been all over your body: while dancing, while sitting down, just every second of this party, and Theodore loathed it. He hated that Pucey's dirty, sleazy hands were on your soft skin, exactly where they didn't belong.
He tried to ignore it, his eyes closing as he downed the rest of his drink, slamming it down on the table. He didn't know where any of his friends were, and honestly, didn't care. He didn't want to talk to anyone or be with anyone but you right now.
He hated that he was thinking about you like this. Lorenzo's baby sister. It was supposed to be the other way around, you were supposed to be the one obsessing over him, so why couldn't he get you out of his head? Why have you been the only thing consuming his thoughts for weeks?
"Hey there, love," A girl sat down beside Theodore, a thing he loved at parties normally. The attention was something that had him feeling smug, but he couldn't even bring himself to look at her. His eyes focused on you as he hears your giggle echo through the room as Pucey whispered something in your ear.
Nothing Pucey could say would ever be funny enough to elicit such a beautiful sound. It felt illegal that he was allowed to hear your laugh, never mind be the reason for it.
"You seem tense, Theo," The girl puts her lips slowly closer and closer to Theodore's neck, her voice quieter and slower as she teased her lips against his neck, lightly grazing it, "Let me help you."
The song that blasts through the speakers had Pucey pulling you up to dance, twirling you around in his arms until his hands thread through to hold your waist. You're facing away from Theodore, completely naive to the blue eyes that follow your every move.
Your boyfriend, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier to meet Theodore's cold gaze, a smirk coming to his lips as he looked down at you, then moving away slightly, only to bring a hand down on your arse.
That has Theodore on his feet immediately, hearing the yelp that you let out as he stormed towards Pucey, ripping him away from you and getting right in his face. He was taller than Adrian, towering over him too as he gets right up in his face, "Don't fucking lay a hand on her again!"
"Theo!"
"She's my girlfriend mate, I'll do what I want." Pucey only fuelled the fire of rage that burned in Theodore's chest. You seem frozen, unsure of what to do as you try and catch the attention of either boy, wanting this nightmare to end.
"Yeah, we'll fucking see about that," Before you could even react, Theodore's fist is making contact with Adrian's nose, and Adrian stumbled back for a few steps before his legs gave way underneath him and he was on the floor.
A gasp emitted from your throat in shock and horror, looking at Adrian as he groaned, holding his nose, red staining the skin. A hand grabbed your wrist, much softer than you had expected from the same fist that had just floored your boyfriend, and dragged you away.
"Theo-"
"We're going home, y/n."
The next thing you know is that you're at the front steps of your home, wanting to say something, anything. Yet, any time you took a breath of air before speaking, Theodore was sending you a look that had you shutting your mouth straight away. Something was daring in his eyes, something a lot more threatening than normal.
His grip gave you little opportunity to wriggle free, his other hand banging open the door, his foot harshly hitting it shut behind you before you are trailing after him up the stairs. He barely gave your feet any chance to keep up with him before you were in his room.
He only let go once you were in the middle of his room, the door shut behind you both. The room is dark, and you both are heaving out a breath. You can just about see Theodore's shoulders sag a little, his voice quieter as he spoke, "I don't like what the boy is doing to you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Dressing like this," He stepped towards you, his fingertips grabbing the edge of your skirt as he continued, "acting like a slut, that's not you baby, you're normally so good."
Your stomach is filled with butterflies as he looked down at your eyes, soft for the first time in weeks, "I am good, I-"
"You think tempting me like this is good, baby? Wearing this outfit and dancing with another man's hands all over your body," Your stomach flipped at the pet name once more, your heart feeling as if it's going to race out of your chest.
Your throat feels blocked up as you watch every slight move he takes, feeling as if this moment is surreal; as if you're dreaming. His voice turned soft as he spoke again, "Where'd my good girl go?"
His hand caressed the side of your face softly, the pad of his thumb swiping over your soft skin and guiding your somewhat messy hair away from your face so he can see you more clearly. You had dreamed of this moment for so long, hoping that one day Theodore would reciprocate your feelings.
The feeling of his hands on you was so euphoric that no amount of dreaming could have ever made you feel like this. This was real.
"I-" You couldn't speak, your brain feeling as if it was going to overload.
You knew this was wrong. Theodore was your brother's best friend, you had grown up with him. He was off limits. You had a boyfriend. So why couldn't you find it in yourself to pull away from his grasp?
You felt as if you were getting pulled closer to his body. The temptation is so bad that no amount of self-control could save you now. You were a goner, you had always been when it came to Theodore.
Since you had been young, you knew that you would do anything for him. Anything so that he could give you this sort of attention, and make you feel like a princess. Your rational thoughts and morals should be pulling you away, but your heart aches for him, it always has.
"You gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be, angel?" He asked, almost as if he was trying to aid you in finding your words. You could only nod your head.
Suddenly, the familiar scent of cologne and cigarette smoke overtook your senses, his lips crashing against yours in a soft, but desperate kiss. His hands reached around you to pick you up, your hands going into his soft hair, grabbing onto the strands with your fingers as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
Swiping his tongue across your lips, you opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss as he took steps towards the bed, lowering you down onto the bed. His lips are still connected to you, and you can feel your lungs begging for oxygen, but you don't want to pull away.
Theodore does first, his blue eyes meeting yours as you slowly manage to open your eyes, your lips parted as you breathe in, trying to fill your lungs with the oxygen they had been deprived of. You follow his eyes as he slowly kisses down your neck, then down the valley of your breasts, his hands pulling down the corset, and you're quick to aid him in pulling it off.
The feeling of his lips grazing over your stomach has you hitching in a breath, watching as his head slowly lowers down your body. Then, his head is nestled between your thighs, kissing the soft skin that isn't hidden by your skirt. The hair on his head tickles them, the skin so sensitive, so unused to being given this much attention feeling so good.
With a racing heart, you watch as Theodore pulled up slightly, wanting desperately for him to touch you where you needed him the most. You ached, a feeling in you that you had never experienced before. You knew that Theodore often evoked feelings in you that you never experienced with anyone else, but this was new.
"You sure about this, baby?" You nodded your head in immediate response, but that didn't please Theo. With a light swat to the inside of your thighs, he looked at your eyes with a slightly more serious expression, "Use your words."
"Yes," The word spilt from your lips breathily, "Please."
Theodore, with a satisfied smile, came up to your face, leaning over you and softly attaching your lips to his. It feels just as surreal as the first time, and it makes your heart race just the same.
With his mouth still attached to yours, you feel his fingers brush against the fabric of your panties, just over your clit, making you hitch a breath. His fingers move the light fabric to the side, his fingers teasing against your hole.
"So wet for me, baby," The praise isn't taken lightly by you, soaking up every inch of approval he gives you.
Slowly, he adds a second finger, his thumb pressing down on your clit as his fingers curl into you, making you let out a breathy moan into the kiss that he eagerly swallows.
Your back arches off of the mattress, and as good as it feels you need more. You need him, "Theo…"
The blue of his eyes meets your gaze as you whine. You can't help it, you're desperate for more, to feel him inside of you. To take care of you and this pressure you can feel building in your stomach.
You mumble something out, a feeble attempt at getting him to speed up the process without verbally admitting that you're desperate for him. He doesn't take the hint though, not that you ever expected him to. He was torturous, tempting you and teetering towards what you wanted, but keeping you on the edge.
"Please."
It's a whisper as you let out another moan, your fist clenching his hair in your hand, grabbing onto any part of him that you can keep from pulling away.
A ghost of a smirk came across his mouth as he raised an eyebrow, "Please what, baby?"
You could tell from the familiar look in his eyes that he knew exactly what you wanted, his fingers curling up once more as they stretched lightly, stretching you out. Your eyes screwed shut as you felt slight tears pricking at your eyes. It just felt so good.
"Please," A broken whisper escaped your lips once more as you let out another moan, his thumb roughly coming down on your clit as you tried to bring your hips up, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It was so unfamiliar and had you heaving for a breath as you grabbed fistfuls of Theo's sheets.
With a final thrust of his fingers and a pinch against your clit, you came undone with a strangled moan. Your face was tilted back, mouth open and eyes closed, your hips bucking up to chase your high. You looked unreal, and Theo couldn't get enough.
When he removed his hands from you, he was coated in your bliss, your eyes softly opening, half-lidded, looking as Theodore brought his fingers up to his lips, his tongue transferring the taste of you, sweet and blissful, into his mouth. Your cheeks were tainted red when you realised what he had done, shifting about on the mattress and casting your eyes down.
Yet, you don't get much of a chance when a strong hand reaches for under your jaw, pulling him back up to meet his eyes, "Don't go all shy on me now, angel."
He could see the slight fuzz in your eyes as you stare at him, and he loved it. He liked how, simply with his fingers, he already had you dazed. His hands were soon pulling down his trousers with ease, and lifting his shirt off with one hand, leaving him in only his boxers.
You could see the outline of his bulge, and it had you gulping. You didn't know how the hell you were going to be able to fit that. He was so much bigger than you had imagined, or expected.
"Don't worry baby, we'll take it slow," He was quick to reassure you, a smug smile on his lips as he brings his mouth down to your collarbone, lightly nipping the skin as he sucked. It was definitely going to leave a mark, but that's what he wanted. He wanted Pucey to see it the next time he saw you, trying to assert some dominance on the situation.
Once he pulled his boxers down, he was soon lining up his tip with your entrance, lightly brushing it against your walls. He couldn't help himself when he asked, "Has Adrian ever-"
He began, but you were quick to shake your head vigorously, giving him a sense of satisfaction. He watched as your eyes screwed shut, soft breaths falling from your lips as he asked, much softer, "Is this your first baby?"
Unwilling to admit it out loud, you hesitantly nod your head, confirming Theodore's suspicions. He only just managed to conceal his grunt of satisfaction at being the first one to see you this way. To be the one to ruin you.
"Don't worry," His head is just beside your ear, a hand coming to gently brush the hair away from your face so not a single change or twitch in your face could go unrecognised by him. He wanted to see everything, every reaction you had as he ruined you, as he made your face twist in a type of pleasure that was entirely unfamiliar to you.
Slowly, he began to push into your tight entrance, the feeling of your walls squeezing him making him want to release already, grunting. He can hear your breathy moans of pain and pleasure as he struggled to go slowly, watching as he disappeared inch by inch inside of you.
All he wanted to do was slam into you, to hear as you screamed in pleasure, but he controlled himself, gripping the sheets with his hands to remain his discipline. You feel tiny in comparison to him.
When he finally bottomed out inside of you, you let out a strangled breath, not used to this feeling of being penetrated like this.
"You feel like heaven, sweetheart," The praise fell from his lips as he grunted once more, one of his hands coming to hold the side of your neck.
"'m so full," You partially cried out, tears leaking from your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling. It felt so good, overwhelmingly so, that you couldn't help the water that leaked out of your eyes.
His mouth came to softly kiss the tears away, your hands coming up to wrap around his back to hold him close to you. You wanted him as close as humanely possible as you slowly became accustomed to the feeling of him inside you.
"You're doing so well, baby," The praise is murmured against your cheek, his eyes closed in pleasure, "Let me know when I can move."
It isn't long before you're giving him the green light and he rocks his hips back and then forward, going slower to start with and soaking up your moans and whimpers with his mouth. His thumb pressed against your clit as he began to go faster, making your moans get louder and you become more desperate.
His hips snapped against yours and you sob into his lips, your nails scratching down his back. His hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of your body and worshipping it all. He knew he could sit and caress each part of your skin and never get bored, feeling intoxicated by the softness of it.
You were like a drug, something he shouldn't touch, something that was supposed to be off-limits, but far too tempting to leave alone. He knew that from now on, he'd never be able to let go of you, never be able to keep his hands to himself.
Your moans were melodic to him, something that he could never get over hearing. He had never had sex like this with anyone before, always quick fucks to satisfy his needs, but this was different. He felt like the barrier was broken, that you guys were connecting on a different level. Something you could never go back from. He would never let you.
The look of your parted lips, mascara running down your cheeks with your tears and your hair messy was a sight that no man but him deserved to see. He could tell you were getting close, he was too, your walls clenching around him as your moans got higher in pitch and louder.
The tears roll down harder, pouring out of your eyes as you barely manage to get your words out, "Teddy- please."
The return of the nickname has him going harder, abusing your g-spot as he hit off it time and time again, igniting a flame in his stomach as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead.
"There she is," He whispered to you, his lips still against your forehead, "There's my good girl."
You came not long after that, walls convulsing as you came around his cock, moans loud as he found himself not far behind, quickly pulling out as he came over your skirt and bare chest, both of you panting and moaning, lost in the sound and feeling of one another.
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nadvs · 2 months
Text
cam girl (part six)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You don’t remember falling asleep. That’s how exhausted you were from your time with Rafe.
As you slowly slip into consciousness, your body feels loose and buzzing. Your core is trembling and you slowly catch on that you were having an erotic dream about him.
Your eyes flutter open, realizing your sex dream isn’t a dream at all. Rafe’s head is moving under your white comforter between your legs, his warm tongue flattening against your clit.
Your fatigued mind puts it together. He spent the night. He held you as you slept. And now he’s eating you out.
“Oh, fuck,” you chuckle breathily, writhing. “Oh, my God.”
“Finally,” he mutters beneath the cover, taking his mouth off of you to speak. His warm breath spreads over your pussy. “I can’t feel my fucking jaw anymore.”
You’re still in your big t-shirt, but you realize he took your panties off.
“Rafe,” you whine, feeling dizzy. Is he seriously waking you up with head? Holy shit.
“You always such a deep sleeper?” he grumbles. He dips to use his tongue on you again, circles swirling over you. His arms are hooked around your legs, large hands splayed on your inner thighs.
“Hmm?” you mumble, lost in the way he’s tonguing you. His mouth closes around your clit, then he pulls back to talk again.
“Do you always sleep so fucking deeply?” he repeats, his tone stern. His morning voice is raspy and deep and so hot that it’s painful.
“Only when I get really good dick the night before,” you say. You can’t help but take the opportunity to mess with him. “So, it’s weird I didn’t wake up right away.”
Rafe stiffens, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he pulls his mouth off of you.
“I’m joking,” you laugh. You pull the cover up to see his face between your legs. God, he looks so fucking cute, his expression completely unimpressed. “Please keep going, baby.”
“Listen, if you wanna fuck with me-“
“Rafe,” you giggle. “I promise, you’re the best I’ve had. Please keep going.”
“The best?” he echoes, eager for you to stroke his ego.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better orgasm than the one you gave me last night,” you say, totally honest.
“Huh. Maybe that should be the last one I give you if you’re gonna be such a brat.”
You know he’s just messing with you, but the thought of ending whatever this is with Rafe makes your heart pinch with sadness.
“What then?” Rafe challenges.
“Then I’ll swear off dick forever,” you reply.
You’re pleased when you see his eyes crinkle as he laughs, the sound so sweet. It’s different than the lust-filled, teasing chuckle you hear when you’re fucking. This one is innocent. Genuine.
“Say sorry for joking like that,” he orders you.
“Sorry, baby,” you smile.
“That’s what I thought,” he scoffs, amused. You keep the cover lifted to watch him put his mouth on you again.
You spread your legs further apart, arching your back as he tongues you, reaching every dip between your folds.
You put a hand in Rafe’s hair, feeling the softness of his locks between your fingers as his head moves slowly.
He’s absolutely devouring you. It’s unlike his usual speed and roughness. He’s savoring this.
You keep your gaze on him, euphoria filling every curve of your body. He tilts slightly to meet your gaze, blue eyes locked on you as he laps at you, long and slow.
His nose presses against your groin, the sound of him sucking you filling your bedroom. You run the heel of your palm over his head, caressing him, realizing this is the gentlest, most affectionate thing you’ve done to him.
You dart your gaze to the ceiling. You’re taken aback at your own tender gesture. Why you touching him like this? Like he’s someone you’re dating instead of casually fucking?
Because he cuddled you to sleep last night. That must be it. His big, warm, bare chest was pressed against your back, arms encircling you, legs tangled together as you dozed off. He acted like a boyfriend and not the fuck buddy he is. Your body is just confused, you tell yourself.
You shut your eyes and focus on the way his mouth is suckling and working you, sending waves of easy, soft satisfaction through you.
“You’re really good at that,” you breathe, almost wishing you wouldn’t cum so he’d do this for hours.
“I know, baby,” Rafe murmurs.
You know he’s being his usual cocky self, but the fact that he’s so skilled should serve as a reminder. He’s experienced. He fucks around. He wants to own you, but he never said anything about you owning him.
This is just fun, you tell yourself. Just fun with a nice monetary reward.
His lips lock on your clit, sucking harder. As his finger slowly sinks into you, tingles go up your legs.
“Rafe,” you breathe, bucking your hips.
“You like that?” he encourages. “My good fucking girl.”
The hand on your thigh grips you tighter as he adds a finger, curling into your pussy and pushing in and out of you.
The next time his mouth circles your clit, you know you’re close.
“Like that, like that,” you whimper.
“You gonna cum for me?” he teases. “You’re clenching around my fingers.”
He sucks your clit hard again and the climax rips through you. You feel yourself twitching as you cum on his mouth.
Rafe groans against you, licking and sucking until you’re so overstimulated that you have to squeeze your thighs and wiggle free.
“Can’t take how good it feels?” he asks, provoking.
“Fuck,” you laugh. You press your palms against your forehead, throwing your head back and breathing deeply. What a way to wake up.
“Get on your stomach,” he instructs. He sits up, the blanket falling off of him. He’s wearing what he fell asleep in: nothing but his briefs, his bulge jutting out beneath the fabric.
You find the strength to turn onto your front, the movement making you realize how sore your ass is from the way he pounded into it last night.
Your cheek is pressed against your pillow and his cock slides in through the valley where the backs of your thighs meet, pushing into your cunt. You inhale in unison at the sensation.
“Fuck, it’s like you…” Rafe rasps. “Like you were fucking made for me. So fucking perfect.”
You arch your back so that he can get inside as deep as possible.
His movements are slow and deep at first, but build into rough, sloppy thrusts, making your bed squeak.
The way Rafe fills you feels so damn good. If he wanted to spend all day in your bed, fucking you over and over again, you’d happily agree to it.
Rafe’s breaths get faster, his groans get deeper, and he empties himself inside of you with a shudder, his hand squeezing your hip so hard that it hurts.
You’re bruised there from last night, you realize.
You never like the feeling of him leaving your body, and thankfully, he doesn’t do it just yet. Rafe simply lays on top of you, shifting a bit to the side so he’s not putting all of his weight on you.
His cheek is pressed against your shoulder blade. His hand on top of yours is directly at your eye-line as you rest on your pillow. You love those hands.
It’s Monday. You have class. You have to be a functioning person today. You don’t remember setting your alarm last night and you have no idea what time it is.
But you just started your morning by getting eaten out and fucked and Rafe’s warm, large body is shielding yours, so the idea of getting out of bed isn’t appealing in the slightest.
He’s still inside you.
You think back to last night, the way he fucked you from behind, how big his fingers around your neck and inside you were and how hard he slapped your ass.
“What’d I do to deserve you spanking me last night?” you ask.
“Poor baby,” he mocks. “Is your ass hurting? Need me to rub it?”
You feel him shift behind you, his hand sliding off of yours, palm going down your back and over the curve of your ass.
In the movement, his softening cock starts to slide out of you. You involuntarily let out a small, unhappy cry.
“What?” Rafe asks.
“Nothing,” you lie.
“Why are you whining?”
“Just… don’t like the feeling of you pulling out,” you admit.
“Oh, my God, so needy,” he jeers. “Wish you could have my dick in you all day, huh?”
You don’t deny it.
To your pleasure, Rafe lies back down, pushing the rest of himself into you again.
“You deserved getting spanked because you drive me fucking crazy,” he drawls. His hand rubs big circles on your naked ass.
“It’s not my fault you want me so bad.”
“Yeah, it is,” he mutters.
You finally find the will to pick your phone up from the nightstand.
You see that you’ll need to leave your place soon if you want to make it to your first class. But you’ll make it as long as your shower is quick.
You open your text conversation with Rafe, holding your phone low so he can’t see what you’re doing.
“Might wanna check your phone,” you say quietly.
You don’t want him to pull out of you, but it’s inevitable. He gets up with a grunt, making you feel incomplete without him inside you. You look over your shoulder when he’s lying down again, phone held out.
The phone looks so small in his hand. God, when did a man’s hands have such an effect on you?
Rafe smirks at his screen, turning it towards you.
“Watch this,” he says. You see the $50 request you just sent him, your text “for spanking me” right below it. He taps his thumb on ‘Reject.’
“You asshole,” you laugh. Then the top of the screen catches your eye. He has you saved as ‘princess’ and the contact photo is the booty pic you sent him yesterday.
“Rafe, that is unhinged,” you say, pointing to the photo. “You have to be joking. What if someone sees that picture?”
“Lucky them.”
You can’t help but laugh. At least this reminds you of what you are to him: a piece of ass. You officially push away the hope that you’re anything more. And a part of you even wishes he doesn’t do something sweet like staying overnight to keep you warm again. If he continues playing his horny sugar daddy role, and does no boyfriend shit like that again, the hope can never come back.
It’s better to be realistic.
“I have to go,” you complain, pushing yourself up. You turn to sit, your feet touching your floor, stretching your arms above your head, with your back to Rafe.
“Don’t do too much today,” he says. You turn, watching him pull his underwear on.
“What are you planning to do to me this time?”
He turns his lean frame to look down at you, his tongue jutting under his cheek in a way you can only describe as utterly mischievous.
“I’m gonna try to make you squirt.”
Your cheeks flood with warmth. This man is going to destroy you.
“’I’ve never done that before,” you say.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t.” Rafe hikes up his jeans and collects his shirt off the floor. “And if any guy can do it for you, it’s the one with the best cock you’ve ever had.”
“I regret telling you that,” you tease.
He bends over your small bed, pressing his palm to your cheek. His eyes travel over your face, smirking, looking like he’s imagining all the things he’s going to do tonight.
“See you tonight, princess.”
He leaves, and you’re still trying to catch your breath.
Your day of classes is tiring, your body still sore and reeling from Rafe having his way with you. You barely make it home for the maintenance guys to fix your radiator.
You sit in your kitchen, trying to study as they clang their tools and talk to each other in your bedroom.
It takes them two hours, finishing up in the evening. After they leave, you savor in the feeling of a warm room, Rafe’s money having solved one of your most expensive problems. It’s so simple, but so nice.
You lie in your bed just to rest your eyes.
You’re suddenly startled awake. Your room is pitch black and a slamming on your front door makes your heart pound in your chest.
You sit up, trying to gauge your surroundings. You check your phone to see it’s half past ten and you have three missed calls and a string of texts from Rafe.
Another sequence of pounds on the front door erupts. It must be him.
You rush to your front door and look through the peephole to confirm it’s Rafe, his jaw clenched in anger. You missed your nightly appointment. He seems pissed. Excitement bubbles inside you.
You crack open the door, meeting his eyes. He shakes his head at you, nostrils flared, and he pushes his way into your dark apartment.
Rafe slams the door behind him, hand roughly grabbing your face, squeezing your cheeks together, your lips jutting out.
“Where the hell were you?” he demands, looking down at you.
“Fell asleep?” you say weakly. He’s fuming - he likes to feel like he owns you and today, his personal pornstar didn’t obey him.
“I pay you to get in front of that camera on time.”
“You’re mad,” you tease, a smile uncontrollably growing on your lips. “Are you gonna punish me?”
Rafe tightens his grip on your face and you rest your hands on his firm forearms, feeling him pull up, beckoning you onto the tips of your toes. You’re already soaked.
“I’m going to fuck you in every hole,” he mutters, “and you’re fucking dreaming if you think you’re cumming tonight.”
“What?” you plead. “You said tonight, we’d try-“
“You think you deserve that?” he interrupts. He releases you, pushing you back. “Get in your fucking room. Go.”
You obey, feeling Rafe’s hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you into the space. He turns the light on behind you, surely wanting to see every inch of you while he makes you pay for flaking on him.
You hear his belt unbuckling behind you and he presses up against you, his cock hard between your asscheeks.
“Get naked,” he instructs. You bend to pull down your pants, take off your top, and strip entirely bare.
Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, palming himself over his briefs, his eyes locked on yours.
“Crawl to me,” he says. You drop to your knees, obeying him, stopping once your head is between his legs. He pulls his briefs down, his cock swollen.
You don’t need him to tell you the next instruction. You eagerly put your hand at his base and your mouth over his tip, spitting on the head.
“Yeah, get it really fucking wet,” he mutters. “You’re gonna choke on it.”
He groans when you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowing. You imagine him sitting on his bed tonight, waiting for you to log in, his dick hard and getting no attention, growing angry when you weren’t showing up.
You’ve never felt so craved by somebody before.
Rafe puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes you down to take all of him, hitting the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex.
“That’s what you fucking get,” he tells you. You look up at him, eyes trailing up his toned stomach and up to his face. He looks so pissed off and so horny all at the same time. You squeeze your thighs together.
“Do I have to do it myself?” he scoffs, tugging at your roots and pulling you back.
“No, I can do it,” you say, muffled against his cock. You push back down, taking him all in, back curling as you gag on his slick length.
You grip him and start bobbing, moving your fingers off every time you reach his base, lips flanged around him.
“Faster,” he orders. You pick up your pace, spit dribbling out of your mouth, prompting you to slurp up the mix of saliva and precum.
“Fuck…” he groans. He pulls you off his dick, your lips popping off him. “Suck on my balls.”
You hungrily push his cock up, digging your head between his legs to put your mouth on his soft flesh, slurping.
“Shit,” he breathes out of pleasure. You feel proud of yourself for making him forget how angry he was so quickly.
Until you realize it wasn’t that easy.
His hand frames your face again, pads of his fingers digging into your cheeks, stopping you.
“On your back,” he says. “Right there, on the floor.”
You’re trembling as you shift back, laying on the hard floor, spreading your legs for him. He gets down to hover over you, his cock in his hand.
Rafe taunts you, bouncing the tip against your clit. Your body jolts at the feeling.
“You’re not gonna cum,” he warns you. “I know how this pussy feels when you’re close and I’ll stop.”
“Rafe,” you beg. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I swear, I-”
He plunges into you, cutting you off, his hips immediately hitting yours as he bottoms out. You throw your head back as he tears into you, his girth forcing you apart.
He thrusts hard and fast, fully rage-fucking you, taking his anger out with every move, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done to you.
“You want me to call you a good girl, don’t you?” he asks.
“I am a good girl,” you shudder, knowing it’s not true, saying it only so he’ll fuck you harder.
“No, you’re fucking not,” he laughs. You look down to see the way his cock is disappearing into you over and over again.
The tension in your gut is coiling tighter. You try not to make it obvious that you’re close to cumming, keeping your eyes low. But your body betrays you. The second your walls start to flutter around him, he pulls out.
“You’re not cumming,” he says. “I already fucking told you.”
This is not the Rafe who cuddled you to sleep last night. This side of him, the insatiable, animalistic side, is simple and only wants one thing. It’s so intoxicating being used by him.
“Ass up,” he says. You know he’s about to fulfill his promise of fucking you three different ways and you can’t wait.
You’re shaking as you spread your knees as much as you can, waiting on all fours, feeling his thumb pad rub up and down over your asshole.
“Can you take it without the lube?” Rafe asks.
This is the bullshit that makes you worry you’ll start liking him. Why can’t he just fuck you how he wants without worrying that he’ll hurt you? It’d be so much easier to not like him if he was cruel and selfish all the time.
“Do it,” you whisper depravedly, frustrated that your thoughts are getting carried away.
He pushes into your asshole, making you cry out in discomfort. The pressure stings as he fills you and you instinctually dart forward, your body trying to prevent any more pain.
“It’s hurting you,” he realizes, quickly pulling out.
“Rafe, just keep going,” you say, looking down at the floor. “Please.”
He buries into you again and you bite your lip hard. He starts to pound into you, balls hitting your pussy, hands gripping your hips.
You let out guttural moans with every pump, praying it’ll end, yet at the time, wishing he won’t cum for another hour. It’s such a good hurt.
Your elbows weaken and you collapse, pressing your forearms onto the hard floor. Your knees are burning in pain, your asshole strained, and tears start to leak out of your eyes as he thrashes mercilessly.
Rafe’s cock starts to spasm inside you, and after one last powerful thrust, you feel his hot, sticky cum flood you. His groan is the deepest, sexiest noise you’ve ever heard from him.
He trembles through some aftershocks, like he wants to give you every drop, then pulls out of you. You go limp, eyes shut, lids against your forearm.
You’re panting hard, sweat sheening your skin, and drop to your side, completely fucked out.
You feel his cum drip down the curve of your ass.
“Get up,” he says. You can’t.
Suddenly, his hands cup your waist, pulling you up.
“Come on,” Rafe says quietly. “Get up.”
You find your footing and he guides you to your bed. You’re a trembling mess as you lie down, curling onto your side, eyes closed, tears hot.
You can’t control the sniffle that shakes through you.
“Whoa, you’re…” he whispers.
You open your eyes to see him sitting over you, his face flushed. You find the strength to pull the comforter up to your eyes, hiding them as you nuzzle into your pillow.
“Hey,” he half-whispers. “You’re crying.”
“I’m just tired,” you say with a defeated laugh.
The room is quiet until you feel the mattress shift, its springs squeaking. Rafe settles behind you and you’re cold for a moment as he lifts the sheet off you. But then it’s on you again, his body curving around you, the comforter covering both of you.
You feel his hand come down your waist, your stomach, your thighs. He starts to gently rub between your legs.
He already told you that he wouldn’t let you orgasm, so you know he’s doing this to continue the torment.
Still, you shift onto your back, spreading your legs open for him, eyes closed as you breathe through the sensation of the pads of his fingers spreading your lips apart to fondle your clit.
You feel Rafe move over you, holding one of your breasts to close his mouth around your nipple. You shudder at the bliss he’s offering you, even though you’re painfully aware that he won’t let you reach your peak.
His fingers move expertly while his tongue flicks up and down and side to side, covering your nipple with his spit.
The stimulation of both his hand and his mouth makes the tightening in your stomach come quickly, and as you arch your back and start to breathe shallower, you’re surprised that his hand moves faster and his mouth sucks harder.
You moan as the orgasm hits you and he rubs you throughout the entire climax. Once you let out a final sigh, you open your eyes.
Rafe’s head rests on the pillow when he comes back up. He’s looking at you with half-closed lids, lying beside you.
“I thought…” you say, a smile pulling on your lips. He knows what you mean. You thought he wasn’t going to let you cum.
“Changed my mind.”
You know you’re not in the right headspace when you wonder if he did that out of guilt for fucking you so hard that he made you cry. That that was his special way of apologizing. But this is Rafe. It can’t be that. He’s simply enjoying keeping you in his control.
“I might miss our sessions more often if this is what happens,” you say breathily.
“Don’t,” he warns.
“I’ve never seen someone so angry,” you tease.
Rafe turns his head, looking up at the ceiling. You see his jaw tighten, clearly recalling how pissed off he was at you.
“I didn’t know where you were,” he said.
“I was right here in my freaking bed, Rafe,” you laugh. “Dead asleep.”
“No, it’s…” His brows furrow. “Some guys came to fix the heat today, right? And you were here all alone and…”
Realization hits you all at once.
“You were… worried they did something to me?” you ask. “And that’s why I didn’t show up?”
Rafe just shakes his head in disbelief again, mouth firming. You watch him in awe. Was that what got him so worked up?
You picture him at home, getting angrier with every minute you were late, and then the possibility of something like that happening to you suddenly popping in his mind, making him go batshit.
“Rafe,” you say with a small smile, genuinely endeared he was concerned about you.
He sits up, looking at you with an angry grimace.
“Why the fuck are you acting like it’s funny?” he snaps.
“I’m not,” you say softly. “I’m-”
“Next time you say you’re gonna be somewhere, be there,” he states coldly.
You feel like you have whiplash. You were just having fun with him. Now that you brought up why he came over in such a frenzy, he’s pissed off again?
Rafe stands, giving you a view of his naked body as he rounds your bed and picks up his briefs. He doesn’t make eye contact with you when he pulls his jeans on or puts on his shirt.
He doesn’t say a word as he storms out of your room. You simply hear your front door open and shut.
You’re left lying in bed, jarred over what just happened.
Working at the Cameron household, you caught little glimpses of the family’s home life and have heard your fair share of Rafe’s yelling. You knew he had a temper to him. But the way he just left, mood shifting so suddenly, is still shocking.
You don’t hear from Rafe the rest of the night. Or the next morning. Or afternoon. You’re not sure if he’s giving you the silent treatment or simply doesn’t feel the need to talk to you unless you’re fucking or you have a camera facing your half-naked body.
You sit on your bed at 10 pm, laptop open, unsure if he’ll even show up tonight. And if he doesn’t, what’s it going to be like when you go to your shift at the estate tomorrow?
But then you hear the familiar chime.
figure8 has joined the session.
“Hi,” you say, breaking the silence in your bedroom. “You still mad at me, baby?”
He doesn’t respond.
“I’m sorry,” you purr, pouting. You sit up, pulling your panties up tight, making sure he sees the outline of your lips under the silk. “Are we gonna try to make me squirt or no? I’m gonna need your help.”
figure8 tipped you $1000.
figure8: stay just like that. im coming over
{ read part seven here }
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theostrophywife · 3 months
Text
poison paradise.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: toxic by omido.
author's note: smutty unhinged theo won the poll. here’s your silly little treat. this came to me in a dream proving that even my subconscious isn't safe from theodore. this is pure filth, but ya'll already know that that's what i do best 🤪
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The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your tongue as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Lost in euphoria, you cried out just as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you to the depths of sensual self-indulgence. 
Back arching off the bed. Fingers gripping the sheets. Moans echoing off the walls. 
This was hedonism at its finest. 
The heady scent of sweat, skin, and sex permeated in the air long after your orgasm passed, inducing you into a foggy haze as you scrambled to anchor yourself back to the present. Between your legs, your girlfriend lifted her head up with a pleased smirk and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. 
The kiss tasted like cum and cherries, a sweet and intoxicating combination that sent your head spinning. Hannah hummed, her pretty doe eyes focused on you while your own fluttered open. 
“Babe, I’ve really got to get to practice now,” she whispered softly. “I’m late enough as it is.” 
You chuckled, twirling a strand of her red hair between your fingers. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one who dragged me in here, love.” 
Hannah grinned sheepishly as she pulled your red and gold skirt down. “Can you blame me? I can’t control myself when you’re strutting about in your cheer uniform.” 
“Then go out there and give me something to cheer about, babe. I expect a win against Slytherin tomorrow.” 
“If Potter doesn’t kill me first for being late,” she said with a final kiss to your cheek. “See you after practice?”
You nodded as you tossed her jersey over. “I’ll be here.” 
After taking a much needed shower, you sat in front of the vanity and blasted music as you diligently adhered to your skincare routine. The best thing about having a girlfriend was that you shared everything. Since dating Hannah, your makeup, clothes, and shoe options doubled overnight. 
As you combed through your hair, a sudden knock at the door caught your attention. You figured it was just a courtesy from Hannah’s roommate. Merlin knows that the poor witch had walked in on you and your girlfriend in countless compromising positions. 
Tightening the scarlet robe around your waist, you sauntered over to the door, fully expecting Emma to greet you from the other side. Instead, a looming figure eclipsed the doorway. You were surprised to find none other than Theodore Nott staring back at you. 
While you two weren’t exactly the best of friends given the rivalry between your houses, you and Theo were civil. You sat beside each other in Herbology and occasionally shared a laugh every time you caught him muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath about the ridiculous bloody plants that Professor Sprout had you wrangling during class. 
“Well, what do we have here?” you teased, cocking your head at the dead eyed Slytherin. “A serpent in the lion’s den? What brings you behind enemy lines, Theo?”  
Theo smiled back in response, shuffling a bit and allowing a glimpse of the wine bottle and bouquet of roses cradled in his arms. “Waiting for my girlfriend to leave so I can set this up for our anniversary.” 
You grinned. “Oh, how romantic!” You had always been a sucker for cheesy gestures. It was the hopeless romantic in you.  “Come in, then.” 
To his credit, Theo kept his eyes firmly on your face as you ushered him inside the room. Taking the hint, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom and changed into something a little less revealing than your silk robe. When you came out, Theo was sprinkling rose petals on the bed. 
“Those are gorgeous,” you fawned over the flowers. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight.” 
Theo smirked in response as he set the vintage wine bottle into a fancy crystal ice bucket. “That’s the plan.” 
Slipping into your fuzzy slippers, you cocked your head at the arrangement. “Wait. I think you set it up on the wrong side. Emma’s bed is over there.” 
Theo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know. This is for Hannah.” 
Whatever warm, fuzzy feeling his sweet gesture invoked suddenly soured at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “What do you mean it’s for Hannah?” 
“Hannah,” Theo repeated slowly. “As in, my girlfriend, Hannah.” 
The words hit you like the Hogwarts Express. Surely, Theo was mistaken. He had to be. That was the only explanation. “This can’t be right. I’m sure I heard you wrong. You can’t be dating Hannah.” 
The confusion in your face was mirrored in Theo’s features. “And why is that?” 
“Because I’m dating Hannah.” 
Theo stared at you. You stared back. The room fell silent as the declaration hung heavy in the air. 
“Wait,” he backtracked, furrowing his brows. “What? That’s not possible.” 
“We’ve been dating since term started.” 
“We’ve been dating since summer,” Theo countered. Disbelief dawned over his handsome features. “This is for our three month anniversary.” 
Desperate to make sense of the situation, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photo album. It didn’t take long to find a recent picture of you and Hannah. “See?” you said, pointing at the screen. “This is us sharing a hot fudge sundae in Hogsmeade just last weekend.” 
Theo’s mouth gaped open as he pulled out his phone in response, scrolling through his pictures just as you had done moments ago. “This is us swimming in the lake last July.” 
The photo of your girlfriend smiling up at the camera while Theo’s arms wrapped around her bikini clad body made your stomach plummet. The confirmation left a bitter taste on your tongue. There was no reason for Theo to be making this up, which left only one possible conclusion. Hannah was dating both of you. At the same time. 
You pursed your lips. “Hannah played us both.” 
Theo looked about as dejected as you felt. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” he muttered to himself. 
“All that tension between you during the quidditch match,” you recalled. The lingering looks that Hannah and Theo shared during last month’s scrimmage flashed before your very eyes. In hindsight, it was obvious that there was more to it than rivalry. 
“You know, I think I saw her kiss you on the cheek in the halls once, but she said that the two of you were just really close.” 
“Oh, we are,” you said rather bitterly. “She’s kissed a lot more than my cheeks. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?” 
“You’re not stupid,” Theo said softly. “How could we have known? Outside of Herbology, the two of us don’t really interact. We’re in different houses and our social circles rarely overlap. If you think about it, it’s actually the perfect plan.” 
“Yes, bravo to our girlfriend for being the cleverest fucking liar in the castle.” You winced at the title. "Correction, ex-girlfriend."
Nott nodded in agreement. "Definitely ex-girlfriend."
"What a bloody mess."
Theo rubbed his temples. “Well, fuck.” The sentiment of total and utter confusion was one you knew all too well. “I am way too sober for this.” 
Without a word, he swiped the bottle of wine from the crystal bucket and popped it open. You stared at him with slight bewilderment, which he responded to with a nonchalant shrug. “What? It’s not like I’m going to drink this with Hannah now after I found out that she’s been lying to me for three whole months.” 
While Theo was taking the perfectly understandable approach of getting absolutely pissed off his arse, you weren’t willing to take the hit so easily. You were angry. Correction, you were fucking livid. Seething in the heat of your fury, you snatched the wine bottle from Theo’s grasp and chugged a good amount. 
“That’s a vintage from my family’s vineyard. You’re supposed to sip slowly to really appreciate the flavor—“ Theo grimaced as you leveled him with a glare. “Or drown yourself in it. That’s fine, too.” 
You swayed on your feet as you gestured dramatically. “I can’t believe she cheated on me!” 
Who the fuck did Hannah think she was? You didn’t need this bullshit. She was the one who chased after you. Before she pursued you, you were perfectly fine ruling this school under your thumb, flashing pretty smiles and innocent doe eyed looks to the unsuspecting masses. You were head cheerleader, for fuck’s sake! You could’ve had your pick of boys and girls in this whole bloody castle. Even worse, Hannah dragged Theo into this too. While the Slytherins certainly had a reputation, he seemed sweet if not a little sardonic and cynical at times.
”I can’t believe she cheated on you.” You added, surveying the now tainted roses and wine. Indignation weighed heavily on every word. You and Theo were both hot as fuck and a complete catch. Neither of you deserved this. “We can’t let her get away with this.” 
Theo sighed in response, taking the bottle from you and drinking a decent amount before wiping his wine stained lips with the back of his hand. “If I’m being honest, this isn’t the first time a relationship has imploded on me. Usually, it’s my fault. But I can’t say I’ve ever gotten cheated on. My ego’s taken a little bit of a blow, but what can we do? She fooled us both.” 
“What can we do?” You repeated incredulously. “Obviously, you haven’t dealt with a Gryffindor’s wrath before. This is a matter of pride, Theo. She hit us where it hurts the most. I say we hit her back.” 
Theo blanched, his watercolor eyes glazed from the alcohol. The wine was no joke. You never would’ve known it from the smooth taste, but this shit was strong. “As upset as I am, I hardly think violence is the answer. My mum told me to never raise a hand against a lady and I don’t intend on breaking that promise. No matter how angry I may be.” 
For the first time in that fucked up night, you managed a laugh. Something about that was so endearing to you. “Relax, Nott. I don’t mean we hurt her physically. That’s not really my style. I have a much more effective way to enact revenge.” Your lips curled into a smile as Theo hung onto every word. “We’re going to wage psychological warfare on our ex-girlfriend, Theo.” 
“I’ll confess I’m a little bit scared,” Theo declared as he gulped down the last of the wine. “And a little bit turned on. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?” 
You smirked as you retrieved the wine bottle and gingerly set it on the nightstand. Theo glanced up at you curiously, anticipation evident on his handsome face. “What exactly is the plan, dolcezza?” 
Whether it was the alcohol or your anger, a devious plan started forming as you looked over your ex-girlfriend’s now ex-boyfriend. “Hannah comes back from practice in an hour,” you stated, toying with the neck of the bottle. “She’s expecting to find me in bed waiting for her.” 
Mischief danced in Theo’s eyes. Up close, you could see flecks of green swimming in his blue irises. Those mesmerizing eyes—the very same ones that had the entire castle weak in the knees—locked on yours. Now that you were single through no fault of your own, you had no reason not to ogle Theo and ogle you did. Your gaze flickered over his lean physique, examining his solid chest and broad shoulders before snagging on the sliver of skin that revealed the hard abdominal muscles beneath his light grey shirt as he stretched. A cocky smirk graced his handsome face when he caught you looking.
Merlin, he was fucking pretty. 
How had you not noticed that before? Oh, right. You were too busy being a good girlfriend. Well, fuck that. 
“Oh?” He murmured, his gaze flickering over you. 
Though you changed into a baggy shirt and cotton shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way Theo was looking at you. His dead eyed stare burned holes into your skin and a shiver crawled up your spine as he gravitated closer. 
“And she will,” you said with a smirk, closing the gap between you. “You’ll just be in it with me.” 
“Oh,” Theo hummed salaciously. 
“Wouldn’t wanna waste those pretty roses you got, do we?” 
The low rasp of your voice seemed to entrance Theo as he shook his head, appearing dazed as you pulled him in by the front of his shirt. “No, no at all. We should…” The nervous bob of his Adam’s apple sent a thrill through your body. “We should definitely make use of them.” 
With a grin, you led him towards the bed. Theo walked backwards, his eyes never leaving yours even as he landed on the mattress. The golden glow of the lamp kissed his sharp cheekbones, its warm hue coloring the slope of his nose, which were smattered with moles and freckles, before emphasizing his wine stained lips. The red roses fluttered around him as the bed dipped, soft petals tickling his skin as he settled against the headboard.
Theo felt like he was under a spell as you crawled over him. He couldn’t tell whether he was dizzy from the wine or if it was just the effect you had on him, but either way, he wasn’t complaining. There were worse things to suffer from than a pretty witch straddling his lap. 
Instinctively, Theo gripped your waist while you settled over him. The sight of you leaning over him, your face mere inches away from his felt like a fever dream. One that he had no desire of waking up from. 
“I thought you liked girls,” Theo whispered softly as your lips brushed over his. Teasing, taunting, tasting. Fuck, what he would give to have you devour him whole. 
“I do,” you replied, tickling his cheek with a rose petal. Theo shivered as the low rasp of your voice pulled him in. “But I like boys too. Especially pretty ones like you.” 
Theo couldn’t help but blush. Obviously, he was aware that he was attractive, but he’d never been called pretty before. He was surprised to find that he really fucking liked it. 
“Don’t flatter me, dolcezza. Not unless you plan on following through.”
“I’ve never been with a Slytherin before,” you whispered huskily. “Tell me, Theo. Will you sink your teeth into me tonight?”
A part of him pondered the slightly fucked up situation that Theo managed to get himself into tonight. Was he really about to fuck his ex-girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend in her own bed? Yes. Did he feel an ounce of guilt over what he was about to do? No. 
Honestly, fuck Hannah. But more importantly, Theo needed to focus on fucking you. 
“Fuck yes.”
When you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, it was over. There wasn’t a single trace of self control in him as he kissed back, his mouth hot and eager against yours. The infamous Gryffindor boldness didn’t disappoint as you moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his silky brown waves before tugging in a way that made Theo weak in the knees. As he parted your lips with his tongue, you grinded against him and laughed seductively when he whimpered in response. 
“Yeah?” you purred as you rolled your hips. “You like that, pretty boy?” 
“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo groaned before he kissed you again, rougher this time. 
There was something satisfying about the way he grabbed you, his big hands guiding you to grind over him, providing a delicious friction between your clothed sex. Theo was hard and throbbing underneath you. By the feel of him, you knew you were in for a ride. The sheer size of him was going to absolutely destroy you. 
You pulled away and a glistening trail of spit extended between you as a result of your sloppy make out. Theo panted as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, keeping your eyes trained on him while you licked a path down his abdomen. He watched hungrily as you grazed your teeth over his hard muscles, flicking your tongue expertly while he shuddered underneath you. 
“I can see why Hannah went for you,” you hummed against his tan skin. “You’re hot as fuck. Your abs are unreal and your happy trail,” Theo groaned as you pressed soft kisses along his torso. “It leads to something delicious, doesn’t it?” 
“Fuck, bella. You’re killing me,” Theo groaned as he fisted your hair in one hand. The whimper that slipped past his lips as you palmed his cock was utterly shameless. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth, Y/N.” 
“Yeah? Shut me up, then.” 
His head lolled back against the headboard as you released his cock from his boxers, stroking purposefully and savoring the filthy moans that echoed against the walls. Those pretty eyes of his were nearly black with lust as he looked down at you, biting his lip while your tongue swirled over the head of his cock. Licking up his precum, you smirked before fully wrapping your lips around him. 
Theo tugged at your hair and bucked against your mouth as you sucked, licked, and pumped every inch of his thick, hard cock. You knew you were good, but the desperation in Theo’s voice all but confirmed it. 
“Dio mio, right there. Fuck, you’re perfect. Your throat was made to be fucked. You can take it, bella. Choke on my cock, just like that.”
You gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Sucking dick had never been your favorite, but sucking Theo’s dick was something else. He looked so pretty with his waves plastered to his forehead, rosy cheeks flushed as he fucked your face with a dominance that had you growing wetter by the second. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you choked on his cock, but it was worth every second to hear Theo moan your name. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” hissed Theo after a particularly rough thrust. You could tell he was close by the way his body seized underneath you, but you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted more and so did he. “So fucking close, but I don’t want to come yet. I need…Fuck, I need more.” 
You released him with a pop, but kept stroking him with your right hand. ��Use your words, pretty boy.” 
“I want to feel you,” Theo whined. “I need to feel your pussy clenching around my cock, principessa. I need you so fucking bad. I’d get on my knees to be inside of you. Please.” 
“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you said as you kissed his temple. “Who am I to refuse?” 
Theo watched as you shuffled above him, barely breathing as you slipped out of your clothes. When you threw your shirt off, Theo cursed to find you completely bare before him. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples before wrapping his lips around them. You could tell he was eager to please and that alone was a huge fucking turn on. It was rare to find a man who cared about pleasure beyond his own, which is why you usually preferred women. Theodore Nott seemed to be the exception. 
With rapt attention, Theo helped you lower down onto his length. He kept his eyes on you as you adjusted, gasping when your walls stretched to accommodate his size. 
“You know, I thought the rumors about you were exaggerated,” you groaned as you sank lower. “But I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.” 
Theo smirked as he nibbled at your earlobe. “What kind of rumors, dolcezza?” 
“That you had a huge dick,” you responded, sounding slightly winded once Theo was finally fully sheathed inside of you. “And that you fuck like a—“ You moaned when Theo shifted his hips to rut into you. He was so big that the minuscule movement felt like you were being split apart. 
“That I fuck like what, bella?” 
Never one to be outdone, you tugged at his hair and grinded against him. “That you fuck like an absolute demon.” 
“Yeah?” He drawled, sliding in and out of you with a cocky smirk. “Well, you’re no angel either, Y/N.” 
“You haven’t seen anything yet, Theo.” 
The sight of you bouncing on his cock and riding the fuck out of him was almost too much. Theo was mesmerized as you used him to get off, head thrown back as you placed your hands on either side of his legs before bending in an angle that he wasn’t even sure was possible for a human to contort to. 
Damn, he should’ve fucked a cheerleader sooner. He should’ve fucked you sooner. 
“I guess you’re not the only one who listened to the rumors. They said you were flexible, but goddamn, this is something else. You’re something else, Y/N.” 
“Oh fuck, Theo,” you keened as you gripped the sheets. “You’re so big. It feels so fucking good, baby.” 
“I like the way you moan my name,” he said. “Gods, I could’ve had this all along. Why was I even wasting my time with Hannah? Sei una fottuta dea.” 
“I have no idea what you just said,'' you panted, picking up the pace. Your legs ached from the effort, but it felt too good to stop. “But I’m soaked now.” 
“I said,” Theo grunted as he fucked up into you and tugged your hair back. “You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N.” 
When he rubbed circles on your clit, you absolutely lost it. The room spiraled around you as you came hard, creaming Theo from tip to base. He pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact until he replaced his cock with his mouth. Theo flattened his tongue, licking up along your soaked folds. His nose brushed against your already sensitive clit and you cried out as he lapped you up like a man starved. 
“Can’t take anymore,” you whined, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you pushed against Theo’s broad shoulders. “It’s too much. I’m so sensitive.” 
Theo gripped your ankles and spread your legs wider. “Where’s that Gryffindor bravery, bella?” He chuckled, tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. His mouth glistened with your cum and rose petals stuck to his skin as he looked up at you. “Surely you can take more. We barely just started. I want you drenched in tears. Shaking, crying, and moaning my name. Right now, you’re not even close.” 
He sucked on your clit and you swore to Godric your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw heaven. Theo was determined to drive you to the brink of insanity. “I know you want it, baby. Let me make you feel good.” 
“Oh gods,” you cried out as he filled you with two fingers. It wasn’t as much of a stretch as his cock, but the way he curled them inside of you, touching that sensitive spongy spot within your walls made you whimper all the same. “Fuck, yes, gods. I want it. I want you, Theo.” 
A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before Theo flipped you over, pressing you headfirst into the pillows as he feasted on your pussy from behind. There wasn’t a single thought in your head as he unraveled you with his tongue and fingers. It was a deadly combination that had you on the edge quicker than you thought possible. 
“Turn around, principessa,” Theo cooed. “Come ride my face.” 
For Godric’s fucking sake. The man was absolutely insatiable. You liked to think that you had excellent stamina. Most of the time your partners struggled to keep up with your pace, but Theo was seriously challenging that. You didn’t know if you could come three times in a row without passing out, but tonight was as good as any to find out. 
Theo rewarded you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss before positioning your thighs on either side of his head. You held onto the headboard above him. Part of it was for balance, but mostly to keep yourself from collapsing all together. You felt so overstimulated that the line between pleasure and pain was blurring by the minute, but still, neither one of you had any plans of stopping. 
At this point, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about revenge. Hannah had long become a thing of the past. It seemed ironic that you and your ex-girlfriend were in this exact position mere hours ago yet you couldn’t even recall anything past the Slytherin fucking you with his tongue. 
“Theo, oh my fucking gods,” you cried out as you grinded against his mouth. “Right there. Yes, that’s it. So good.” Theo squeezed your thighs in response, which elicited a hoarse laugh out of you. “You like when I praise you, pretty boy?” 
Theo hummed against your clit and squeezed your ass in confirmation. “You’re so pretty when you’re eating my pussy,” you cooed, brushing his wavy locks back. “But you’re even prettier when you’re fucking me.” 
That seemed to be all the encouragement Theo needed. Before you knew it, your back was against the mattress as he hiked your legs over your shoulder. Theo slipped in easily, thanks to the juices coating both his tongue and cock now that he was filling you up again. 
“How’s the view now, principessa?” Theo asked with a cocky smirk. 
You bit your lip as he pounded into you, holding your gaze with every sharp thrust. His tanned skin glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed while he buried himself inside of you again and again, watching you take all of him with rapt attention. His balls slapped against your ass every time his hips snapped to yours, drilling so deep that you struggled for words.
“The best in the castle,” you quipped back, putting on a serene smile as Theo grunted and fucked any and every coherent thought right out of you. 
Neither one of you noticed the door opening nor the sound of the broom hitting the floor. You were too busy staring into Theo’s pretty eyes to care. 
He turned your head towards the door, but didn’t stop fucking you as Hannah watched with her mouth hung wide open. Theo made sure that your ex-girlfriend had a clear view of the money shot as he claimed you with his mouth, moaning your name against your lips as he came with a loud cry. He filled you to the brim and you could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets as your eyes rolled back.
Theo collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sinful. As you lay boneless and blissed out of your mind, you couldn’t quite believe that you’d just fucked your ex-girlfriend’s ex boyfriend. In her own bed, nonetheless. If that wasn’t poetic justice, you didn’t know what was. Merlin, you hadn’t gotten shagged like that in—well, ever. The Slytherin really knew how to slither in. You lifted your head to find Theo already looking at you. When you made eye contact, the two of you burst into laughter.
Your ex-girlfriend, on the other hand, was not as amused. “What the fuck!” Hannah screamed. 
Her shrill voice brought you out of the post haze aftermath of your earth shattering orgasm. Completely unbothered, you stretched lazily and waved your fingers at Hannah. Theo smirked as he tugged his sweatpants back on, but opted to remain shirtless as he pulled his oversized shirt over your head like a proper gentleman. You were grateful, since you had absolutely no desire to walk around in your ex-girlfriend’s clothes. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Theo looked absolutely delicious from the afterglow.
You bit your lip, already thinking of all the ways you’d like to have him. Again and again. As often as possible.
With a little smile, you met Theo’s gaze. It was clear that neither of you had any intention of calling it an early night. You had a feeling that you had a lot of sleepless nights ahead of you. Theo looked like he wanted to tear you apart and you were more than willing to let him. “My dorm?” 
“Whatever you say, dolcezza,” Theo said as he slipped his fingers through yours. “You could lead me off the astronomy tower and I’d follow.” 
Theo didn’t bother looking at Hannah as the two of you passed her. You, on the other hand, couldn’t pass up the chance to get the last word in. 
“By the way, we’re breaking up with you. Have fun cleaning up the mess.” 
Theo chuckled darkly as he tugged you out into the hallway, smacking your arse as the two of you raced back to your dorm. Behind you, your long forgotten ex-girlfriend gaped as she watched her ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend walk away hand in hand.
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