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#he's the teams best chaser in fucking years
empress-simps · 30 days
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Heart Chaser
Pairing: James Potter x Reader CW: Grumpy reader, James getting injured, and Language. Genre: Fluff Summary: James tries to woo you over many times before, with what he does best- being a showoff and with a promise of a hogsmeade date if they win the quidditch tournament
Note: James is a certified simp. This is a self-indulgent one shot, enjoy reading!
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James was stupid- it goes without saying. Stupidly in love with you, who wants nothing to do with him. He always greets you with his charming smile, you greet him back with a scowl or a sneer just for him.
He was like a stubborn gum stuck in the bottom of your shoes that you have a hard time getting rid of.
“Is he hit in the head? Why is he doing fucking flips when he could make our house win?” You scowl, arms folding over your chest as he whizzes near you, sending a wink your way. The other girls around you squealed, thinking it was for them as giggles and whispers surrounded you. If anything, you were quite the contrary. If you could puke, you probably would’ve already done it by now.
“Hm, Black is quite a good player. Quite better than their stupid captain who just knows how to show off.” You commented on seeing Sirius Black swinging his bat to hit the incoming bludger that was aimed at James, effectively protecting the chaser. Her friends, Mary and Marlene looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Fancy dating a beater rather than a chaser, huh?”
Marlene teased while Mary chuckled, trying not to show her amusement to the annoyed you. “Right, so if I compliment a boy on his quidditch skills that means I’m madly in love with him? Great.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you redirected your attention to the game.
“Oh come on, we were just teasing you, Y/n!” Mary pokes your side playfully, “I should’ve just let the sorting hat put me in Slytherin, that way I wouldn’t have to deal with you both.”
“Oh sod off, Y/n. You were pissing your pants in fear in front of older Slytherin students in our first year.” Marlene snickers, dodging your attempts to get to her as Mary tries to block you from actually hitting her.
“Why you little- “
“…And the Gryffindor team wins!”
Cheers erupted from your side as you widened your eyes in surprise. There he was, James Potter got off his broom as Sirius started to carry him on his shoulders, their teammates surrounding them. James met your eyes and smiled (quite stupidly in your opinion) sending a wink your way which made a sour look appear on your face. What a showoff.
“C’mon, game’s over. I don’t want to see Pothead’s face more than what’s necessary.” You grabbed them both and left the quidditch pitch. Marlene protested at first, but then immediately tried to persuade you into joining the common room party that night.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You waved her off, wanting Marlene to shut up and forget what you said. Oh, how wrong you were.
Which placed you in your current position, Marlene and Mary basically dragged you to the common room where you saw people drunk, dancing, or snogging. “Stay here, Y/n!” We’ll be back!” Marlene giggled, as she and Mary went off to Merlin-knows-where. You felt stupid and out of place, so you just stuck to the side and watched the scenes in front of you unfold.
“Didn’t think you were the type to attend parties like this.” A chuckle was heard, looking in the direction of the voice, you saw Remus, leaning against the wall much like what you are doing. You let out a scoff, “Marlene and Mary left to go snog some random people,” He lets out a laugh, “I figured. Would you like some butterbeer?” He offers, you shake your head politely. “It’s alright, I do love some firewhisky.” You joked, his eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise as Sirius neared you both, seemingly heard your conversation.
“You’re quite surprising, Y/n! No wonder you got Prongs wrapped around your finger.” Sirius had his famous grin plastered on his face, handing you a shot of Olgden’s Old firewhisky. Your eyebrows narrowed suspiciously at Sirius, who urged you to take it. Just where did he even get that and how did he manage to sneak it in?
 “What’s life without a little risk?”
“Don’t even think about giving that to her, Padfoot.”
Like a knight in shining armor, James seemed to pop out of nowhere, getting in between you and Sirius, giving his best friend a disapproving look. Sirius grins sheepishly, raising one arm up in mock surrender, “Alright, Prongsie. Sorry dove! Next time, alright?” Sirius looked at you, winking and running off to somewhere before James could whack him. Remus follows Sirius closely behind to ensure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.
“Thanks, Potter.” You practically forced yourself to utter those words to the boy who had a quite lovestruck look on his face.
“Anything for you, Y/n.”
“Alright, I’ve had enough. Goodbye, congratulations on your win.” You sneered, trying to ignore the blush creeping in your cheeks at the obviously lovestruck James, who seemed to snap out of his trance. “H-hold on!” He grabs your wrist gently, stopping you.
“If we win the next game, let’s go to Hogsmeade.”
Alright, you weren’t expecting that. You stilled, trying to fight the stupid butterflies that started to appear in your tummy. What is happening to you? Did you find James attractive suddenly? This needs to be stopped, at least you hope it will.
“No- “
“Y/n, please! I won’t even pass notes to you anymore in class just to get us both in detention!” He pleads, you must admit that he looks quite cute. Raising an eyebrow, you tried to fight off the amused smirk threatening to make its way on your lips. “So, you’re admitting that you did that so we can spend detention together?” You should’ve whacked him upside the head and be annoyed but strangely, you find it, dare you say- adorable.
James scratched the back of his neck, he was caught. “Erm… So, is that a yes?” You clicked your tongue, “Win the game first then we’ll talk.”
“It seems like the Gryffindor’s Captain is in high spirits today!”
You hear the commentator’s voice rang throughout the cheering crowd. Crossing your arms, you observed James, his demeanor is quite different from last time. He’s more serious than ever, barely even showing off or sending a quick your way when he flies close next to you. It was a huge difference, not that you were bummed out about it (which you secretly are.)
Marlene snickered, noticing your reaction. “Why the long face? Potter not paying attention to you?”
“Sod off, Marlene.” You grumbled, shoving her lightly making her laugh. “Hey! So it’s true! Mary, Potter managed to woo our Y/n- “ You glared at her, a hint of blush dusting your cheek. “I can only tolerate so much, Marls.”
The banter was cut short when you heard gasps and the commentator’s alarmed voice was heard. “It appears that James Potter was knocked off his broom by Ravenclaw’s beater, and he’s falling quite fast! Someone get Madame Pomfrey!”
You paled, mouth turning dry as your eyes searched frantically at the enormous quidditch pitch, feeling your stomach drop as you saw James freefall to the ground quickly.  “No…” Luckily, someone managed to make his fall to the ground a bit less dangerous by turning the ground into a putty-like texture. Biting your lip nervously, you wince as James landed with a loud thud.
He wheezed, lying on the ground, and holding his arm that was probably broken. “Merlin, that actually hurts.” He looks around, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. Out of all the places he could have fallen in, it just simply had to be in front of where you sat. James can already hear you rejecting him taking you out this Saturday.
Rushing to the Hospital Wing, you opened the doors with a loud thud, not caring if you disturbed other patients as you made a beeline to James who was talking with the rest of Marauders.
“You dumb oaf! How could you possibly lose balance in your own broom?!” You furrowed you eyebrows as you saw James visibly wince, feeling ashamed, he looked down at his arm cast. Mary places a hand on your shoulder as Marlene casts an apologetic look towards the boys.
“How will I say yes to your stupid little Hogsmeade date if you’re injured?” You ‘tsked’, crossing your arms in front of your chest, ignoring everyone’s surprised reaction. Sirius whistled, already slapping James on the back as Remus widened his eyes, Peter had his mouth open in shock and your friends stared at you in surprise, looking like you just grew another head.
James quickly looked up at you, eyes beaming with happiness as a dopey smile made its way on his face. “You… you agree?” He bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. You raised your eyebrows, a small amused smile settling on your face. “I don’t know you’re that daft, but yes. I’ll go on a date with you Potter.”
Everyone around you cheered quietly as Madame Pomfrey sent a warning glare to your group. James grins, leaning in your direction as he looks at you. “Brilliant.” His voice is a soft murmur, only meant for you. Madame Pomfrey’s glare dissolves into a knowing smile as she turns away, giving you both a moment of privacy.
James had a way of capturing people’s hearts by just being himself, he even managed to capture yours- and he doesn’t even think about letting it go.
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obsessedwithceleste · 20 days
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Theodore Nott Headcanons
Dedicated to this lil request here 🫶🏽
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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It’s no secret that Theodore Nott had a rough childhood
Between witnessing his mother’s death at a young age and having a particularly ruthless father, Theo learned to be quietly reserved early on
1000% Theo is an introvert
Despite being seemingly closed off, he’s extremely observant and good at reading others and picking up on things quickly
While he may not be the best at deciphering his own emotions, he’s able to sort through others’ easily
This makes it easy for him to be rather manipulative because he knows what makes other’s tick and how to go straight for the jugular
He may be distant and off putting in the beginning, but once you get close, he’s a clingy bastard because he doesn’t let many people get close, so once you make it there he’ll basically hold you captive forever
He’s also stupid smart
(Canonically he’s able to re-create an illegal time turner after they were all destroyed in the department of mysteries so//)
And this makes his a bit of an arrogant asshole
Looks down on people he thinks aren’t as smart as him
He definitely thinks that he knows best and can have a “my way or the highway” type mindset
Probably has some type of gifted kid™️ trauma and a crippling fear of failure
Anyway, he’s super intelligent and witty and has the potential to do really well in classes
But he has a nasty habit off skiving off with Mattheo Riddle
Who happens to be his best friend along with Lorenzo Berkshire
A lot of people think Theo is the “mother” of the group, or at least the one with the most impulse control
They’re wrong
Theo is the one that Mattheo goes to with his dumbass ideas and Theo’s response is generally something along the lines of-
“Absolutely not you tosser. If we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it right”
Queue Mattheo’s initial plan- only methodically planned out to cause maximal emotional trauma for the Hogwarts population
Theo and Mattheo are also a chaotic duo on the quidditch pitch
Theo is a chaser
Making the quidditch team in his third year is one of the only times his father showed a hint of satisfaction with the boy
Being on the Slytherin quidditch team, he’s often labeled a preppy jock
And Mattheo does help him break out of his shell more
But he’s a nerdy lil book worm at heart and likes to be holed up in the library most days
Theo also has quite the reputation of being a ladies man with rumors about his escapades swarming the student body
But really they’re just that- rumors
Lorenzo is more of the openly flirtatious pretty boy, and Mattheo certainly knows how to make his way around which is perhaps why people think Theo would be the same way
But he isn’t one to really form physical attachments- emotional or not
He prefers to fly under the radar
He may have had a fling or two, but isn’t one to kiss and tell
He has a hard time entering a real relationship
Mostly because when he first realizes he’s caught feelings, he’s convinced he’s actually just ill and stays in bed pretending to be sick
But once he comes to terms with things, he’s one determined wizard
Makes sure everyone knows that you’re off limits (possibly before you know yourself)
Definitely goes to Enzo for advice on how to woo you
With varying degrees of success
King of subtle PDA (just enough to mark his territory)
Confident and secure in his relationship, but also still jealous as hell
Will hex the living shit out of someone for breathing at you the wrong way
Finds it amusing when you get jealous though
But will shut it the fuck down as soon as he picks up on you being actually upset (probably embarrassing whoever it is in the process)
Not always the best at communicating his feeling cause he’s emotionally constipated af
But tries because he knows he doesn’t want a relationship like his parent’s
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Okayyy I think that’s all for now, but I have a feeling these will grow and evolve with time sooo- ongoing (?) idk
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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 months
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Lesson Learned || Fred Weasley
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Title: Lesson Learned Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: When Fred catches Y/N doing something he doesn’t approve of he’s got no choice but to teach her a valuable lesson Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This includes consensual non-consensual sex, meaning that during the sex scene it is made to seem that the female reader did not consent, but it is revealed after that reader and Fred are in a relationship and this was a preplanned encounter - if you don’t like that don’t read! vaginal sex, degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex, possessive/jealous behavior,mentions of violence. A/N: my last little fic of the year!! Thank you to everyone who has supported me, I couldn’t do this without you! I’ve been out of the smut game for so long I needed some practice so this was born! Tags: @darthwheezely since she requested this and i love her endlessly <3
“What the fuck?”
Ice sprays across the rink as Fred comes to a halt, ripping his helmet off so he can be sure he’s actually seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. Because surely even a jersey chaser like Y/N has to have some standards, and there’s no way she’s standing there talking no - flirting with an idiot like Cedric Diggory. 
The captain of their biggest rival and an all around mega douche. 
But it turns out his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Y/N is leaning on the edge of the barrier batting her eyelashes at Cedric as he regales her with some story that Fred is sure the idiot made up to make himself seem cooler. He just about loses his mind when Y/N throws her head back and laughs, her hand coming up to rest on Cedric’s arm. 
Luckily Coach blows his whistle to bring them all back from their warm up skate, or Fred would certainly find himself ejected for being the shit out of Cedric before the game even begins. He skates back with the rest of the team reluctantly, already figuring out how to deal with Cedric on the ice - and how to deal with Y/N off of it. 
-
“Holy fuck Weasley you were an animal out there!” 
Fred grins as he teammates hoop and holler around him in the locker room, still fresh on adrenaline from their crushing defeat over the Baltimore Badgers. Fueled by the rage of seeing Y/N flirt with Diggory, Fred had been on fire from the second the ref blew the whistle. He skated faster than he ever had before, and hit harder too. By the second quarter three of the Badger’s best players were benched with injuries from being slammed into the boards by Fred, and he’d even managed to break Diggory’s nose during a fight.
The 10 minutes in the penalty box had been worth it. 
“Just doing what I do best!” Fred shouts back nonchalantly as he rewraps his knuckles.
He takes his time getting ready after the game, thankful that the game was at home today so there’s no need to rush to the airport for their flight back. Because he knows that Y/N is always the last one to go home, still new to her job as the assistant manager and eager to please everybody. He also knows that while everyone is in the locker room Y/N is in the rink, checking the bench and bleachers for anything anyone may have left behind. 
When there’s only a few guys left in the showers Fred decides to put his plan into action. He shoves his bag under one of the benches, and yells a goodbye to his teammates as he slips out of the locker room. Moving as silently as he can, Fred makes his way through the tunnel and out into the rink, crouching down as he reaches the opening in case Y/N happens to be getting ready to come that way. He peeks around the corner best he can and a thrill runs down his spine when he sees Y/N over by the team bench. She’s down on her hands and knees as she reaches for something, and Fred makes his move. 
“Jesus Christ,” Y/N shouts as she stands up, surprised to find Fred leaning against the rink watching her. “You scared the shit out of me Fred, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he responds, crossing his arms. 
“Doing my job, obviously.”
Fred gives her a look. “That’s not what I was referring to.”
“Well can you just get to the point then? I’d like to finish up here so I can get home,” Y/N huffs.
“My point is,” Fred starts, tone dripping with condescension. “What the fuck were you doing flirting with Cedric fucking Diggory before the game?”
“None of your fucking business, that’s what,” Y/N spits back. “Last I checked I was allowed to screw whoever I want.”
Fred pushes off from the sideboard then, taking a slow step towards Y/N. He’s almost ashamed to admit that a thrill runs down his spine when she takes a step back. “Oh really?”
All the anger seeps from Y/N’s body and is replaced by fear at the tone of Fred’s voice. The look on his face makes her knees tremble as he continues his slow pace forward, her own steps retreating at the same pace. In an effort to distract him she throws the water bottle in her hand as hard as she can, not bothering to watch it hit him. Instead she turns around, trying to make a break for the tunnel.
Except Fred is quicker, not even deterred by the bottle smacking him in the chest he lets out a low growl, and it only takes three strides before he’s grabbing Y/N by the waist. 
“Fucking, bitch,” he seethes, throwing her against the sideboard.
Before she can even think Fred is pressed up against her, pinning Y/N between the sideboard and his body. A hand twists around her hair, pulling hard to yank her head back. “Now you listen to me,” he growls, leaning in to speak against the shell of her ear. “You fuck me and only me, understand?”
“Fred,” Y/N murmurs, voice thick with a mixture of fear and sadness. “Please.”
He yanks her hair, cock twitching at the yelp in pain that leaves her lips. “Guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson, hm?”
Y/N fights against Fred as one of his hands drops to the waistband of her leggings, squirming in a desperate attempt to get away from him. But his grip on her hair is strong, and his hips have her pinned to the sideboard. “Fred, no,” she gasps, skin suddenly exposed to the cool air of the rink. 
“No panties,” he coos, nibbling on Y/N’s earlobe. “It’s like you were asking for it.”
With her leggings around her knees Fred places his free hand on the middle of her shoulders, pressing down so Y/N is bent over the sideboard. He finally releases her hair, satisfied that his hand and hips will be able to keep her in place. 
“Time for me to show you how a real man claims what’s his.”
Y/N gasps as Fred suddenly sinks his cock in her cunt, hips not stopping until he’s fully buried inside. He barely gives her a moment to adjust to the stretch before he’s pulling his cock out half way and fucking back into her hard. 
The only noise in the rink comes from Fred’s labored pants and his belt buckle hitting the sideboard as he sets a brutal pace. Y/N’s hand covers her mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet in the hopes that Fred will just take what he wants and this will all be over soon. 
“Fuck, fuck,” Fred groans. Y/N’s cunt clings to his cock like a glove that was made just for him, and the slick noise her pussy makes as he moves is just barely loud enough for him to hear. 
“Your cunt is unfucking believable,” he praises. “My cunt - isn’t that right sweetheart?” He slaps her ass hard when Y/N only nods - not satisfied with her nonverbal answer. “Who does this fucking cunt belong to Y/N?”
“You,” Y/N sobs out, willing to give Fred anything he wants. “It belongs to you, Fred.”
“Fucking right it does,” Fred grunts in response, pace picking up as he edges closer and closer to his orgasm. “And I’m going to mark this pretty little pussy up so everyone knows it too.”
Y/N lets out a muffled moan as Fred’s cock pulses inside her, her cunt walls throbbing around him as he fills her up with his cum. Her pussy is embarrassingly wet, and she’s afraid to admit that she would have orgasmed too had this encounter lasted any longer. 
As Fred catches his breath he slowly pulls out, eyes drawn to Y/N’s pussy and the way his cum starts to slowly drip out of it. “Fuck,” he whispers, using his thumb to capture a drop before it falls so he can push it back into her.
Fred tucks his cock back into his trousers and zips up silently, and Y/N is too afraid to move. Her knees are trembling from a mixture of fear and her almost orgasm, and she can practically feel Fred’s eyes as he stares at her exposed pussy. 
“I better not see you talking to Diggory or any other fuck head - understand?”
“Yes,” Y/N responds shakily. 
Satisfied with her answer, Fred gives a curt nod before turning to leave. He gives her one last look over his shoulder before heading out of the tunnel - not even bothering to pull her leggings back up. Bad girls don’t deserve chivalry. 
-
When Y/N stumbles out of the guest locker room 45 minutes later, skin pink from her shower, Fred is leaning up against the wall waiting for her. There’s a goofy grin on his face, and soon there is a matching one spreading across hers.
“Baby,” Fred greets as she jumps into his arms, hugging Y/N tight. “That was fucking incredible - I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish.”
She pulls away from the hug, giving Fred a kiss on the cheek. “That’s okay - you can make it up to me at home.”
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daegutowns · 1 month
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your enhypen hogwarts boyfriend 
tags: hogwarts au, gn!reader, this is the grind rn
gryffindor: heeseung, niki 
heeseung: quidditch team chaser 
secretly (not so secretly) an attention seeker
please expect to hype him up and fawn over him on quidditch match days -- especially on matches with slytherin (he always has a bet with jay) 
“babe i need you to boo jay if he ever comes near you.” 
and he is so serious about this 
mcgonagall claims she doesn’t like him but he’s just lucky that he’s actually really good at quidditch (bc his transfiguration grades are not sexy) 
excels in defense against the dark arts AND potions but snape hates him 
he swears up and down he didn’t do anything this time to get detention but you know better. and he’s always begging the captain to not kick him off
“please, you know snape wants my left buttcheek!” 
talks shit before the match (especially to jay) and then feigns innocence if he’s asked about it 
this is the result of years of watching quidditch matches with his dad (their favorite team is the montrose magpies -- and he WILL badmouth puddlemere united if that team is mentioned) 
likes to sleep next to you in the library after practice while you study 
riki: quidditch team beater  
rebellious, passionate, and playful -- riki is a gryffindor through and through
always getting caught up in pranks. denies ever being inside zonko’s even though that’s the first place he goes in hogsmeade 
like okay ????
claims mrs. norris (filch’s cat) is best friends with him, but he has no real way of proving this 
shy about pda because of his friends, so he likes meeting up with you in secret and passing you notes in class 
…until he gets caught and has to read them out loud
then he decides that fuck it! it’s better to just air it out anyways. not his problem what they find disgusting! 
straight up livin’ that thug life y’all #getrekt
lowkey getting brainwashed by heeseung (go magpies!) 
makes up all his dreams for his divination dream journal but always makes it about you so he can pretend to be offended if someone says it’s fake
hufflepuff: sunghoon, jungwon 
sunghoon: prefect (head boy) 
this hard-working and kind-hearted boy is a true hufflepuff through and through
everyone thought by his looks that he’d either be in slytherin or ravenclaw, but it’s more obvious when he opens his mouth 
he’s kind of like cedric diggory -- super well-liked, popular, good-looking, and smart
he’s got all the hufflepuff girls and gays giggling around him n shit 
“first years follow me to the common room” and the new hufflepuffs are tripping over their feet trying to ask him questions 
it’s okay because he only has eyes for you <3 
haha jk sometimes he’ll tease you and say “are you jealous? you look jealous~” and then backtrack and say nevermind that he’s sorry and he doesn’t actually know what other people look like. in fact he only knows one name and it’s yours. 
he doesn’t really need to be doing all that but it’s fun messing with him 
goes around humbly (not so humbly) bragging about you until he gets smacked by snape for messing around during (but that doesn’t stop him) 
he likes taking you to cheesy date spots, like madam puddifoot’s tea shop or the covered walkway near spintwitches sporting needs where everyone else had their first kisses 
jungwon: quidditch team seeker   
well-rounded, responsible, and dependable -- these are all traits of a hufflepuff that describe jungwon perfectly 
to be honest, he’s really just here for the vibes
his favorite pastime is collecting chocolate frog cards 
(he is specifically looking for the gold and silver albus dumbledore cards that have been out of circulation for years)
he’s a very talented seeker, but everyone else’s praise doesnt mean anything. he needs YOUR praise specifically and will pretend to not like it just so he can hear it more (but you know better!) 
please help him study… he is definitely getting that quidditch scouting from a professional team but jungwon said he might get a T (troll) in history of magic 
he has a black cat named dooly that terrorizes him before he sleeps
you like dragging him to the kitchens to eat chocolate snacks with him before bed, but he gets nervous sneaking out sometimes
likes sitting underneath the big willow tree near the black lake with his head in your lap. please run your hands through his hair! 
ravenclaw: jake 
jake: quidditch team beater  
everyone really would’ve expected that he would’ve been in either gryffindor or hufflepuff just based on personality alone 
the sorting gave him a choice, and he just went with the house that had more of his friends that he made on the train 
he loves it when you show up to practice because now it’s even more awesome! now even more of his favorite people are in the same place
“babe look at this!” while he does a flip ??? 
if he falls off, now both you AND the rest of his team can laugh at him 
loves it even more if you show up to his games fully decked out (beyond his imagination) in his house colors, even if that’s not your house
he never expects this from you but he’s soooo happy when it happens that it motivates you to keep doing it 
self-declared next quidditch captain (and flitwick will give it to him) 
he’ll even tutor you in transfigurations (his best subject) for kisses, because despite being an athlete, he’s also got good grades???? sometimes god has favorites 
“if you think i’m a cool boyfriend, give me a kiss” 
his favorite type of date is sneaking out to the kitchens with you and sharing a pudding cake
slytherin: jay, sunoo
jay: quidditch team keeper  
unsurprisingly, jay comes from a long line of other slytherins
he’s pretty laidback compared to the rest of his family, but always insists that you go with him to family functions (because “baby they’re too boring without you!”) 
you two always end up at the snacks table gossiping with his cool cousins anyways 
flexes by buying you all your snacks on the train + of course covers all the dates 
pretty popular within slytherin house, but only because he’s good at quidditch and also has pretty good grades (in everything except herbology) 
hates the keeper pickup lines and jokes but likes 
lined up to be the next captain! 
claims he wants to work for the ministry of magic’s department of mysteries
“i got an image to keep”
whatever you say babygirl ^^
expects to be holding hands whenever you’re walking the halls with him
requires a good luck kiss before every quidditch match
sunoo: prefect 
a lot of people expected sunoo to get into hufflepuff! he defies expectations 
seriously, he made a name for himself within the house
with as ambitious as he is, it’s not that surprising to see that someone has confident and charming as him is in slytherin 
he’s someone with friends in every house, probably in every year too
he’s got an “in” with every club on hogwarts campus, so take your pick bae. the world’s your oyster! 
he flexes like jay, but instead of galleons, he takes you to restricted areas of campus using his prefect badge 
would actually help you break the rules if you wanted to
“you want to break in where?! okay, wait, let me get--” 
likes it when you compliment his thoughtfulness or talent in these areas 
his best subject is charms ;) 
his favorite pastime is watching quidditch practices with you, but all you do is yap together
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absurdthirst · 6 months
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Crashing the Party {Dieter Bravo x Plus Sized!F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13.2k
Warnings: Drug/alcohol use, dubious consent due to intoxication, flirting, Dieter being a menace, face sitting, begging, oral sex (male and female receiving), anal fingering, snorting coke off tits, apply coke to sex organs with sex organs, debauchery, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, hangovers, hurt feelings, drunken behavior, name calling, Dieter doesn't take advantage, hungover sex, make up sex
Comments: Deciding to crash your boss's party, you find that he doesn't recognize you in your sexy nurses costume. Leading you to a night you never expected to have, in your boss's bed.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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“It has to be epic!” Dieter declared when he first told you about his idea to have the biggest and best Halloween party in the Hills. He had his party planner invite everyone he knows and he had his drug dealer drop off every drug known to man. He has spent a fortune on this party, even having you pick up his custom costume - a fortune teller - and you watch the party planner and her team scramble to decorate and finish setting up Dieter’s grand mansion. The security will arrive soon and you will leave thereafter. Not invited - not that you expected an invite from your boss but it would’ve been nice - you decide to head home and gorge on Halloween candy while watching horror movies. “This is fucking awesome!” Dieter cries out when he sees the finished set up before the party officially starts and he grabs the bottle of vodka, ready to get the night started. 
**** 
“You know…you should crash his party.” Your roommate tells you as she gets ready for her own party at her boyfriend's house. Her sexy corset makes you fluster as she adjusts her wig. “I got a few costume choices. You could go to the party you helped organize. You can go as a sexy nun…a sexy fairy…or a sexy nurse. There’s wigs too. No one would know it’s you. You should go crash it. Drink his booze.” She urges you, knowing how difficult your boss can be.
Dieter loves throwing parties. People fawn over him and gush about how good the party is. Making him feel useful and wanted. Feelings that he’s been trying to capture and been unable to hold onto over the past few years. His platinum credit card is used to cut a line of coke, giggling as he looks out over the people that are dancing and popping the pills that he has stationed around like candy bowls. A bowl of Molly, a bowl of Ice. There’s even some speedballs that are being passed around. Whatever someone wants, he’s got it here for them. His vodka glass is empty and he frowns dramatically, stumbling to his feet to move to the bar. He can’t do a line of coke without a vodka chaser. 
You manage to get past security, telling them you’re Dieter’s assistant and they saw you earlier so they know you. You get inside without issue and the party is already buzzing. Music playing and groups of people sitting around talking, making out or taking drugs. You step further into the house and see Dieter by the bar, pouring himself a shot. You don’t realize that his eyes have found you but he doesn’t know it’s you. He saunters over to you with a smirk, “well who are you and why aren’t you sitting on my face?” He asks and you wonder if he recognizes you at all. The wig and makeup have transformed you but you don’t think it was enough for Dieter to not know you. 
“Very funny, Bravo.” You scoff and walk past him, determined to have a good time so you locate the bowl of molly and take one. 
Dieter is confused, wondering why this beautiful woman walked past him without even acknowledging that he’s an fucking Oscar winning actor. He will find her again and make sure she knows who he is. Whose party she is attending. It’s kind of distracting, how he had just been ignored. Finding himself abandoning the line of coke to watch the mysterious woman as she pours herself a drink and moves over to the food tables. He hums, watching her hips sway under her costume and he imagines squeezing them as she rides his tongue or his cock, he’s not choosy right now. Hopefully both. Taking another shot of liquid courage, he moves towards the sexy woman and plasters on a cocky smile. “Got meat?” He asks teasingly, right as she is about to put a sausage in her mouth. “It’s good, right? I was told it was the best in L.A. But they hadn’t tried mine.” He jokes, winking at her. 
You stare at him, wondering if he recognizes you at all. You are made up in the sexy nurse costume, wig in place and makeup but you can’t believe your own boss doesn’t recognise your face. Maybe he really doesn’t give a shit about you. You pop the sausage into your mouth, chewing slowly as he stares at you, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. “I’d say this one is pretty damn hard to beat.” You smirk, reaching over the table to pick up some candy, chewing on it as he stands there watching you. 
“So…who are you here with?” He asks, leaning a little closer. 
“No one.” You hum, “heard there was a Sherman Oaks party and I couldn’t miss it.”
“Really?” His brows lift in surprise and he leans in even more. “Do you know who owns this house? Who’s throwing the party?” He asks, not bothering to wait for an answer. “Me. It’s my party, my house.” He smirks. “So….” He tilts his head towards the bar. “Let me buy you a drink and we can discuss how you’re going to ride my cock later on. I’m thinking slow and sensual, really taking your time. But I’m also open to being ridden hard and put up wet. Your call.” 
You nearly choke as your boss asks you to ride his cock. He really doesn’t know who you are because he never wanted you, never saw you as a person, let alone a woman in all your interactions working for him. “I’ll take the drink…and I’ll hold off on the cock.” You chuckle, enjoying seeing him not get what he wants all the damn time.
He pouts immediately but then shrugs it off and decides that he will convince you later on to fuck him. “Pick your poison.” He tells you, grabbing another one of those sausages for you before he guides you over to the bar. “I’ve got practically every liquor you could want. Or any pills.” He chuckles. “Here.” He hands this gorgeous creature the sausage before hopping behind the bar to grin at you. “What will it be?” 
You stare at him as he treats you like a conquest, something that you’ve never had directed at you but you’ve witnessed countless times as he tried to woo any man or woman that caught his eye. “Vodka and cranberry.” You tell him before popping the sausage into your mouth and you can’t resist teasing him but moaning as you chew. It’s gonna be fun to run Dieter ragged trying to seduce you.
His cock twitches at the sound of that sexy little moan and he swears he’s heard your voice before but he can’t place it. Critical thinking while high is never the best thing for him, and he’s popped a few pills before he hadn’t done that line of coke. “Vodka cranberry coming up.” He winks and grabs the bottle of Grey Goose. “Very easy drink.” he pauses as he pours the glass half full of vodka. “You want sprite in it too?”
Your eyes widen at the measure and you know you need to sip that to avoid embarrassing yourself by getting wasted. You nod so he puts the tiniest pour of sprite into the cup. “Thanks.” You thank him, fingers brushing his as you take the red solo cup. You take a sip, wincing at the strength of the vodka and you’re grateful it’s a higher end liquor. Only the best for Dieter Bravo. “You got any molly?” You ask, wanting to get a little high to enjoy the party - might as well since Dieter won’t surface until late afternoon tomorrow if this party goes until dawn. Dieter grins, grabbing the bowl of pills and you hesitate, knowing you shouldn’t get high but damn it, he does it all the time. You pick out a pill, popping it into your mouth and you stare at Dieter as he watches you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.
He wonders why someone like you has escaped him, you must live nearby. “So, have you been to many Hollywood parties, baby?” He asks, wrapping his arm around you and guiding you towards one of the empty couches. Restraining himself from sliding his hand down to squeeze your generous ass. “What’s your name, by the way?” 
You snort, knowing he’s just drunk and high and you can feel your high creeping over you. “My name…is not necessary unless you want to call me Nurse.” You tease, “and I’m too busy to go to these parties. I got work to do.” You say, sipping your drink as you sit down on the sofa and he practically curls around you. You know he’s drunk and high otherwise he wouldn’t be interested in someone like you.
“Nurse.” He hums, leaning in and dragging his nose along your shoulder. “Are you a naughty nurse?” He asks, grinning at the idea. “I like naughty nurses. And you are a sexy, naughty nurse.” His fingers run along your arm. “How’s your drink, baby?” 
You roll your eyes playfully as he crowds you and it’s overwhelming to be on the receiving end of his flirtations. “Strong.” You answer his question and he smirks, “stiff.” He adds and you giggle, feeling the drug relax you. “You are?” You tease and he groans, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. 
“I am.” He promises and you know you should tell him who you are to him but you’re enjoying feeling wanted. 
“You really like nurses, huh?”
“I like this nurse.” He promises, drawing a little heart symbol on your arm before he places his hand on your knee. “You smell good too, what are you wearing?” He swears he’s smelled it before, it’s almost comforting. “That perfume?” 
"It's, uh, Carolina Herrera. Good Girl. My mom gave it to me for my birthday." You explain, even though Dieter forgot your birthday...or maybe he didn't even know about it at all. 
"Are you a good girl?" He asks teasingly and you smirk, wanting to mess with him a little more. 
"Sometimes." You whisper, leaning a little closer. Dieter smirks, his hand sliding a little higher up your thigh and you are surprised his attention is on you when he has a plethora of models and actresses in his home. "Can you tell me my future?" You ask him, reaching up to touch his headscarf.
“You want your future told?” He hums, squeezing your ample thigh and groaning when his cock twitches again at your softness. “I see that you are going to go to bed with an Oscar winner.” He predicts with a chuckle. “Who makes you cum with his skilled tongue and big dick.” Leaning in, he bites your jaw playfully. “Licking coke off your tits and sucking Molly off your clit.”
You gasp in arousal at his words, imagining just that. You know he's gifted orally - both professionally and personally from experience and sexually from accounts you've heard from his partners. To have his attention on you has you practically vibrating and you place your hand over his on your thigh and you think he thinks you're pushing him away but you guide it higher. "Is there an Oscar winner nearby?" You play dumb, wanting to rile him up a little.
Dieter growls, both confused that you don’t know who he is and loving that fact. No expectations. No demands. His fingers turn when he twists his wrist and he dives under the stretched out skirt to press against your clit through what feels like lace panties. “You’re in luck, baby. I’m an Oscar winner. And I love coke and Molly.” He smirks, starting to rub a small circle on your clit. “Question is…do you want to have sex with me?” The drugs have taken full effect and he’s hornier than normal. You’re fucking voluptuous and thick, making his mouth water and his cock throb. You remind him of someone he wants, but can’t have.
You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as he rubs you just right on the first move and you swear you could cum for him right then and there. You know it’s the booze and the drugs that makes him want you and the same for you. You have this one night to be with your boss and you won’t deny yourself when he clearly wants you. Tomorrow, you’ll likely kick yourself but he doesn’t know who you are and he never will. You lean in, placing your hand on his upper thigh. “I want to have sex with you. Are you…are you going to leave your party or wait until we are all alone. I gotta warn you…I’m a screamer.” You smirk, leaning in to bite down on his ear lobe with that stupid earring like you've always wanted to.
“Ohhhhh fuck.” Dieter moans. “The party….fuck, it can go on without us.” He pants, loving how eager you are. “We can have our own party. One where you sit on my face and I’ll dip my cock in coke for you to suck off.”
You moan, eager to see how he is in bed. The Molly has you relaxed and you nod, “let’s go, baby.” You order, knowing that at least for tonight, you have Dieter Bravo. He stands up and grabs your hand, scooping up a baggie of coke and a baggie of pills as he pulls you along to his suite. You giggle, the music blaring as people party and the music is muffled as Dieter shuts the door when you’re inside his bedroom.
“Fuck, you’re sexy.” He groans, turning towards you and pulling off the hat of his costume. “Are you wearing lace under there? I thought I felt lace. Who cares? You’re gonna be wearing my face. Or maybe my face will be wearing you? I don’t care, but I want to lick your pussy.”
You smirk, “you wanna find out?” You ask, working on the flimsy buttons of the dress and Dieter stands there, almost hypnotized as he watches you strip off the cheap costume, exposing the lace you are wearing underneath. You know he’s clean, having organized his health checks for filming, so you are comfortable with him touching you. Even though the drug haze, you consider him to be comfortable.
“Fuck.” Dieter groans, eyeing your breasts and your curves. Licking his lips and imaging all the fucking places he could snort or lick drugs off you. “Okay. Yeah. Get undressed.” He quickly yanks his costume shirt over his head and starts to kick off his crocs. “Fuck, you make my dick rock hard, baby.”
You clench around nothing, imagining him naked far too many times to be professional as his assistant but you’ve been curious. “Show me.” You order, slipping out of your heels and he nods, shoving his baggy pants down his legs to display the bulge in his briefs - a rare clothing item he wears but needed for the party. You are glad he likes what he sees and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting him see your tits for the first time.
“Goddamn.” Dieter groans, twitching again at the sight of your breasts, nipples hard and begging for his lips wrapped around them. “I can’t wait to suck on those while you bounce on my cock.” He palms himself and then hooks his fingers into his briefs to strip them down, letting his cock spring free and start to curl up as he kicks them off. He reaches for the pills and pops one in his mouth to swallow and then smirks. “Come here, sexy. Wanna make you feel good.”
Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. You've seen him naked before. Unavoidable when you are trying to wake him up for an early call time and he sleeps naked, but you have never seen him hard. Not like this. Your mouth drops and he chuckles, gesturing for you to come over to him and you do, "fuck Dieter. I didn't - you're so thick." You reach down to take him into your hand.
Dieter’s grin quickly slides into a moan. “You- fuck, that had is so soft around me.” He pants, moaning again when you squeeze him as if to prove him wrong. His hands reach up to cup your tits and he swipes his thumbs over your nipples.
You moan as he pinches your nipples and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Your tongue slides against his and you squeeze his cock a little harder as his hands fondle your tits.
He’s never had someone that is so unabashedly sexy and isn’t even trying. You are naturally sexy and he slides his hands down to squeeze your hips. “Fuck baby, get on my face.” He pants, excited to taste you.
You pull back, biting your lip, “are you sure? I- I’m not light.” You feel the self consciousness creep in as Dieter asks you to sit on his face. Even the booze and the drugs can’t stop it. “You want me to suck your cock?” You offer, wanting him to be distracted by another option.
Dieter grunts, shaking his head. “Only if you suck my cock while those thick thighs frame my head.” He grins, reaching one hand down and slapping a thigh.
You nod, knowing that Dieter doesn’t do what he doesn’t want to do. You let go of his cock and he pulls you over to the bed, laying down and patting his cheeks. “Take a seat, baby girl.” He orders and you hesitate as you kneel on the bed but he doesn’t give you a chance to say no as he tugs you over to straddle his face. It’s a little awkward as you hover over him until his tongue darts out to flick your clit and you moan.
​​He moans at the first taste of your cunt. Immediately falling in love with the musky, tangy taste, he pulls you down onto his lips firmly and groans into you as he starts to eat you out. Dieter might be selfish in a lot of ways, but he wants to give you pleasure, make you shake above him and his cock spurts some pre-cum from how excited he is.
You see his cock leaking and you can’t resist bending over to take him into your hand and within seconds, into your mouth. You moan around him, unable to believe how thick he is as he twitches inside your mouth. His tongue slides into your cunt and you relax, letting your weight drop more onto his face.
He groans like you are giving him the best gift when you shift onto him more. Enjoying the weight of you, the feeling of being smothered by you. His hands hold onto your hips, licking desperately into your wet little hole and wishing he could see how fucking sexy this looks. Your mouth around his cock feels amazing, like you are sucking his soul out, making him gasp into your folds.
You grip the base of his cock, pumping what doesn’t fit into your mouth and you moan when he sucks on your clit. His fingers are digging into your hips and you know you could smother him but he seems to be enjoying it.
He rocks his hips up, pulling your own back onto him more as you pull off his cock. Groaning at how sexy this is. Your split slides down into the hair at the base of his cock and he curls his tongue and pushes deeper before pulling it out, starting to fuck you with it and burying it as deep as he can, his nose pressed against your puckered hole.
You rest your cheek on his thigh after letting his cock drop from your mouth and you moan his name, “fuck. You - you’re so good.” You pant, his mouth working you up as his nose presses into your flesh. “You’re gonna make me cum.” You tell him breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around his cock and you take him back into your mouth, moaning around him again and again until he sends you over the edge. His cock falling from your mouth again as you cum, your cry echoing off of the walls of his bedroom.
Groaning happily, Dieter lets your arousal coat his face, smothering himself in your juices and he wonders if it's been a long time since you've cum or if you always cum that much. The frantic tongue fucking turns to languid, indulgent licks until you pull away from his mouth and make him whine at the loss of his new favorite treat.
You lift your hips off of his face and he whines in protest. “Baby. Baby. Baby.” You whimper, shifting off of him and you move to lay down beside him, reaching for him to cup his cheek so you can press your lips to see, tasting yourself on his tongue. “God, I see why they say your tongue is magic now.” You confess, reaching down to take his cock in your hand again.
"You need to see on my cock and see why they call it magical." He whines, rocking his hips up into your grip. "Fuck me, my pretty nurse. Or let me fuck you, I just know I'm gonna die if I don't slide into that perfect pussy."
“Fuck. I- you wanna - you wanna fuck me from behind?” You ask him, curious how he wants you and you don’t want to ride him, knowing he’d see you in an unflattering angle. “Then you can do coke off of my tits.” You offer, the drugs making you chattier than you’d normally be during sex.
"Fuck, you're perfect." He groans, reaching up and grabbing the back of your neck to drag you to him for another kiss. "Get to watch my dick plow into your pussy and making your ass jiggled and I get to snort coke off your tits? You're the fucking best."
You kiss for a few moments before he’s pulling back to tell you to get onto your knees. You obey, shifting onto your hands and knees, ass jiggling as you wiggle your hips while he kneels behind you. “Fuck me. I- I have an IUD. You can cum inside me if you want. Or use a condom. I don’t care. Just fuck me.”
Dieter giggles, slapping your ass before he caresses it. "You want my cock, baby?" He coos as he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it as he shuffles up to press the head against your entrance.
You grind back against him, trying to push him inside but he teases you, making you hiss in frustration. You whimper and he takes pity, pushing deep inside of you in one thrust and you cry out loud enough for anyone passing in the hall to hear you. “Fuck!” You shriek, loving how it feels as he pushes deep and your ass jiggles as he smacks it.
"Oh fuck, you naughty, naughty, nurse." He groans out, grinding his hips and throbbing inside you. His hands caress your ass as he waits for you to adjust to him. He knows he's thick, that it can be a lot, so he just strokes from your tits down to your thighs.
Your head hangs between your shoulders as he lets you adjust to him and fuck, he’s thick. It’s enough to make you want to tap out but you ain’t a quitter. You take a deep breath and relax, giving yourself a moment until the burn fades. “You can move.” You tell him, looking over your shoulder.
"Fuck, baby." Dieter grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your ample flesh. Loving how he can be rougher with you and it doesn't feel like he's grinding against your bones. "I'm going to enjoy this so much. Touch yourself. Rub your pretty clit while I fuck you."
"Okay. Okay." You can't disobey him, reaching down to rub your clit, and your walls flutter around his cock as he starts to move inside of you. "So good." You choke, feeling more than anything you've felt in years.
Starting to rock into you, Dieter loves how your cunt flutters around him. "Oh fuck baby, best cunt I've ever been inside." He grunts, eyes rolling back before looking down at the way your ass shakes and you take his cock. "Jesus, you feel so good."
"You - you're just pussy drunk." You snort playfully as he rocks into you and you moan his name as he punches deep enough to hit your cervix. 
"Drunk on the best pussy I've ever had." He pants and you chuckle breathlessly, "bet you say that to all the nurses."
He groans, thrusting into you harder as he feels like his entire body is on fire. Leaning over you, he cups your tits and bites your shoulder as he fills you again and again. "Tight and warm." He groans. "So fuckin' wet, baby. This pussy is so fuckin' wet. So good."
"And - and you're so thick. God, is it the drugs or does this - this is the best sex I've ever had and I haven't even cum yet." You confess, rocking back onto him and he pinches your nipples.
"The best sex you've ever had." Dieter grunts, huffing out an amused laugh that you would think of anything else. "Because it's sex with me. God, you're so goddamn pretty. I could fuck you all the time."
"Do it. Fu- fuck me every day." You moan, rubbing your clit a little harder. You always thought your boss got laid and had people fawning over him because he was an Oscar winning actor but it turns out it's because he's a fucking sex god.
"Fuck." He groans at the thought of it. "Get you other nurse outfits, have you wear them all the time and sit on my cock. Let me finger you. Tongue fuck you. Have you suck my cock."
“Yessss.” You hiss, rocking back onto him as you get closer to your orgasm. “I can - I can be your - your sex doll. Wanna - wanna just have you fuck me all day. Have you lick my clit all day making me cum over and over until - until I let you fuck me. You’d have to be a good boy.” You ramble, lost in the pleasure as you imagined dominating Dieter a little.
His cock twitches deep inside you, moaning at the thought of that. "I'll be a good boy." He promises. "Fuck, no one wants to take care of me. It's always getting fucked by the movie star. No one just wants to take charge and fuck me."
You moan, wanting to take charge of him, to have him putty in your hands. “I can take charge. Ride you. Keep you from cumming until I’m satisfied.” You tell him, clenching around him to make your point as he pushes deep. “I’d make you beg me to cum.” You promise him, “you want me to make you beg now?” You ask breathlessly, wanting to hear him beg you for once after he orders you around all day.
"Fuck yes." He pulls out of you and flops down onto the bed. "Ride me, make me beg, baby." He urges you, eyes wide with desire as he looks over at you. "Please."
You should feel self conscious but the drugs and booze have you feeling confident as you shift to straddle him. Reaching down to grip his cock, you position him at your entrance and slowly start to sink down on him, your eyes meeting his as his gaze flicks between your pussy and your face.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck baby." He whimpers, toes curling and his hands hold onto your hips like a lifeline. "Jesus." his eyes roll back. "You're so gorgeous. You are so sexy, so fucking thick and beautiful."
His words spur you on and you start to rock your hips, grabbing onto the headboard behind him for leverage. “You are gonna make me cum. You can’t cum until I tell you to. Do you understand?” You ask and he nods. You let go of the headboard to grip his chin, making his eyes meet yours, “do you understand? Use your words.”
"Yessss baby." Your eyes are so fucking familiar but he can't help to stare into them. Watching you start to take your pleasure from him. "Anything you want. I'll make you cum, I want to make you cum."
You let go of his chin, gripping the headboard again. You rock your hips, grinding on him and your clit rubs against his pelvis and you pant out. “So close.” You announce and Dieter looks at you in awe, “cum for me baby.” He orders and you rock faster, chest heaving until you shake above him, clamping down on his cock as you cum around him.
He groans, twitching in your walls as you soak him. Loving how you moan and shake for him. Watching every move you make as you cum. He whimpers, wanting to cum, but you had told him that he couldn't cum until you told him that he could.
You come to a stop, thighs shaking and you look at him once you open your eyes. “Don’t cum.” You remind him, staying still on top of him. “I want to cum again.” He whines and you gently slap his cheek, “don’t whine. You’re gonna wait to cum.” You demand, loving the look in his eyes as you take control.
His pupils are blown wide, nearly making his eyes black as he looks up at you. "Yes, n-nurse." He pants out, letting go of your hips to reach up and grab hold of the headboard. Needing it to ground himself so he doesn't cum. "I'll be good. Want you to cum."
You smirk, “such a good boy for me.” You coo, caressing his cheek and you start to move again. You feel powerful and in control, something you’ve never felt when dealing with Dieter. “You’re - you’re so good.” You moan, starting to move a little faster and you bounce in his cock, spurred on by the power over him as he lays beneath you.
“All for you, baby.” He groans, closing his eyes for a moment so he doesn’t blow. Especially because your tits are in his face. “God, you ride my dick so well. It’s - fuck- you’re a dick riding artist.”
You moan, loving the praise, and you rock a little faster, your clit rubbing against his pelvis and you’re getting closer to another orgasm. “Shit. I- It’s - Shit. Shit. Cum with me. Cum for me.” You plead, wanting him to fall over the edge with you.
Dieter shudders, whining and immediately rocking his hips up to thrust up into you. “Yes baby, fuck, yes.” He moans, feeling his toes curling and his body starting to shake as he gets close to cumming. “Gonna cum.” He cries, thrusting up to bury his cock deep in your pussy as he paints your walls with his cum.
You cry out, shaking above him again and you love how it feels to have him fill you up, his cock twitching inside of you. You bounce on him until you come to a stop and his hips thrust up to ride his high as you clamp down on him. “Oh my God.” You pant, collapsing forward to rest on his chest. “Such - so good for me.” You exhale shakily.
“Ohhh that was so good.” He preens under the praise, his arms wrapping around you and he kisses whatever part of you he can reach, “so good. Don’t, fuck- we need another drink, right?” He asks, thirsty after the sex and he knows you have to be.
“Another drink.” You agree and he kisses along your neck as he rolls you onto your side, his softening cock slipping out of you. “You want - I can get your drink.” You slip into old habits as you look at your boss while he relaxes on his expensive sheets.
“That was good.” He shoves his hand behind his head and watches you. Frowning slightly when you seem to know exactly how the bar is laid out.
You work fast to prepare his favorite drink…tequila and soda with a lime and a salted rim. He loves to order it. You set it down on the nightstand and pick up your own vodka and cran, shifting awkwardly after you wiped his cum from between your legs with some cocktail napkins.
“Do you want to go back to the party or have our own party up here for the rest of the night?” Dieter asks, rolling over slightly to grab his drink and grinning lecherously at you. Normally he would be itching to join the party, but not tonight. He’s being greedy, wanting more time with you.
You know you should leave but you’ll only have Dieter for tonight before he passes out and likely forgets you even existed. Especially since he doesn’t recognize you. You sip your drink and smirk, “I thought you were gonna snort coke off of my tits first?”
"Oooooh yeah, that's right." He lights up and sets the tequila down to open the drawer of the nightstand to pull a small baggie out. "Can I? Maybe off your pussy too?" He groans. "The fucking taste of your cum, my cum and coke would be amazing, baby."
You nod, wanting to see this unhinged side of Dieter you’ve heard so much about and the drugs you’ve taken have made you loose and relaxed enough to enjoy yourself. “Whatever you want. I’m yours for tonight.”
"My little cum doll." He trills in delight and then grins, opening the packet and standing up to dip the tip of his cock in the cocaine. "Lay down and spread those gorgeously thick thighs, nurse. I have to apply the medicine to your pussy lips."
You inhale sharply at the way he kneels between your thighs and you spread them, watching as his eyes darken when he sees the remnants of his cum on your folds. "Dieter." You whimper when the head of his cock traces your cunt.
"It's okay, pretty nurse." He teases, knowing that he's switched to be more dominant right now. He goes that frequently. "Dieter’s gonna take care of you.” While he's tracing his coke laced cock through your folds, he uses his other hand to pour a line of the white powder out over your soft tits. "Fuck, you look like a fucking meal."
Your chest heaves as you watch him, almost animalistic in his gaze, and you whimper when he lets go of his cock to grab your tit, lifting it up so he can lean down to snort some coke off of your skin.
Your skin is damp with sweat and it makes him groan at the smell of you and the powder. Snorting up the line quickly, and following it up with his tongue to make sure he gets every spec of the coke off your body before he drags his tongue over to your nipple to start sucking on it hungrily again. You are letting him indulge and he wants to make sure he does everything he can think of to make this fun.
You whimper, running your fingers through his hair as he sucks on your nipple. “That - that feel good, baby?” You ask him, wondering if he feels as good as you do. “Fuck. I- I want you to suck it off my pussy.” You tell him, wanting to feel his tongue again.
“Fuck yes.” Dieter groans, popping off your nipple and immediately diving down below. “Look at that.” He huffs, pulling your lips apart to see his cum gathered in your folds and specks of the Coke mixed with it and your own juices. “Like a perfect, creamy dessert.” He dives in eagerly, burying his tongue into your cunt, headless of his own taste.
“Oh shit!” You gasp as he laps at your cunt, cocaine intermingled with your combined cum and he is ravenous, lapping at you like a man starved. You tangle your fingers in his hair and moan, your thighs pressed against his cheeks.
Dieter moans, continuously lapping at your clit and making sure that he cleans up every flake of the cocaine off your pussy. Addicted to this filth of the action and how much you are enjoying it as well. He groans, sliding his hands up to squeeze your breasts as he tries to drown himself in your cunt.
“Holy shit.” You moan loud and proud as his tongue works magic again. Your hands cover his over your tits and you rock your hips up to meet his mouth. “Fuck baby. Your mouth- so good. Not just for acting.” You tease breathlessly.
He looks up at you and winks, lifting his mouth up off your clit for a split second. "Knew you recognized me." He crows before he descends on your cunt again. Eager to make you cum.
You chuckle, “everyone knows you. I just liked pulling your leg.” You lift your leg onto his shoulder so he can push his tongue deeper inside of your pussy, “fuckkk. That’s - right there.” You pant as he sucks on your clit like it’s a hard candy.
He huffs into your folds, squeezing your tits again and if he's offended, he doesn't show it. Determine to prove that he can make you cum harder than before.
Your thighs shake as he works you up until you are squealing as you cum again. Your thighs threaten to smother him and your walls clamp down around nothing as he makes you cum harder than before. “Oh God.” You pant, your fingers tugging on his hair to keep him there.
He chuckles, lightening up on the pressure of his tongue and he slowly laps on your clit. Enjoying the feeling of your fingers tugging on his hair. He loves when he makes someone feel good so they lavish praises on him.
You try to catch your breath as he laps at your skin, trailing from your belly to your tits. “God. Are you - are you hard?” You ask, reaching down to wrap your fingers around him when you get your answer. “You want to fuck me again? Or me to suck you off?”
Dieter groans, rocking his hips up into your hand. "Fuck baby, I want whatever you want." He starts to babble. "I just want you to touch me. Be with me."
“Let me suck you off.” You order and push on his chest. He lays down and you shuffle down his body, taking his cock into your mouth without hesitation, wanting to taste him. To hear him whine.
"Oh fuck, oh shit baby." Dieter's moans are loud, his eyes clenching tight. "Your mouth is so fucking good. Oh God, holy shit.' He pants out, reaching down to cup your cheek. "You're so good to me."
He’s thick but you won’t quit as you take him deeper, pushing him down your throat and you breathe harshly through your nose as you try to stop gagging. Your eyes meet his and you slide your hand up to fondle his balls.
“Oh fuck, yess.” He moans. “Okay, with my balls, just like that.” He’s falling in love. A filthy girl who loves sex and drugs? Absolutely in love. “You’re perfect, so fucking perfect, baby.”
His praises spur you on and you roll his balls between your fingers until you slide your hand lower to caress the skin between his balls and his ass. His cock twitches inside of you and you move your finger further back, caressing his puckered hole until you gently push your finger inside, his cock still down your throat.
“Oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter chokes out, surprised by the finger but clamping down around it as you press against his prostate. “Gonna cum!” He whines, the combination of your mouth and fingering his ass has him over the edge quicker than before.
You swallow around him, his cum spurting down your throat and you work him through it, enjoying the wrecked look on his face and the way he sounds like you’ve just swallowed his soul.
“Oh god. Oh fuck. You’re so- I fuckin’ love your mouth.” Dieter pulls you up, wanting to kiss you, snuggle into you. “You’re gonna stay, right?” He asks, suddenly exhausted from the sex.
You nod, the high fading along with the pleasure and you shift to lay down on his pillows after gently withdrawing from his body. His arms wrap around you and you can’t resist curling into his chest, kissing the space above his heart. “I’ll stay.”
**** 
Dieter always wakes up slowly. Especially after a night of partying. He snorts, coughing and starts to peel his eyes open. Wrapped around a pillow, he turns over and expects to see the goddess that had graced his bed, changed his fucking world last night. Frowning when he sees empty, rumpled sheets. “Nurse?” He calls out, sitting up and looking towards the bathroom. It’s crazy he didn’t get a name, but he’s going to change that this morning. “Baby? Are you taking a piss?”
**** 
You freak out when you get home, not even bothering to shower at Dieter’s and you can’t believe you slept with your boss. Your head aches from the hangover and you just want to get in the shower and pass out for a few hours. Thankfully, Dieter likely won’t surface until noon so you have some time before you have to be at his house with his post party McDonald’s that he always denies. You get in the shower, washing him off you and you pray he doesn’t recognize you in the light of day.
Walking through the house reveals plenty of people who passed out, a lamp that’s been destroyed, but no nurse. He’s upset, confused as to why she didn’t stay when she promised she would and trudges back upstairs to climb back in the bed again. Depressed that the woman who had made him feel amazing had just left without a word. He knows how Cinderella's prince feels now.
You make your way over to Dieter’s to find the normal clean up crew sorting out his home and you carry his McDonalds meal through the house to see what he is up to. You find him sitting in bed with his glasses on, looking through his notebook. “How are you feeling, boss?” You ask him, wondering if he will realize it’s you and praying he doesn’t. Dieter might’ve wanted you last night but you know he’d hate to find out it’s you in the cold light of day.
“Do you have a list of all the guests invited?” Dieter asks you, frowning as he looks up at you. He almost asks if you had come, but then he realizes that would be ridiculous, you hate spending time with him unless it’s to do your job. “No, she said she was party crashing.” He sighs. “Do we have cameras here? I don’t know.” It’s crazy, but he doesn’t know what his security system entails. 
“Who- who are you looking for?” You ask after clearing your throat and you set the food down on the nightstand as he sits there, naked under the sheets most likely with his glasses perched on his nose.
"I met someone." Dieter tells you. "She's perfect and I need to find her, find out why she left this morning and convince her to - to date me." He huffs. "She's my Cinderella and I have wig that's her glass slipper." He reaches over and holds up the wig that she had worn for you to see. "Except I think that's a ‘one size fits all’ kind of thing."
You are shocked he wants to see "you/her" again after you figured he'd move on to his next conquest. The mystery nurse might be the topic of conversation for today but you know Dieter will forget come tomorrow. "Yeah. Those are one size fits all." You confirm, biting your lip as he checks the wig for any clues. "What was so special about this one?"
“She was amazing.” Dieter gushes, sighing and smiling as he remembers the night. “Sexy, bold enough to keep me on my toes.” His cock twitches under the sheets. “Sat on my face and rode my cock like a fucking goddess. I’ve got to find her. Wanted to take her out.”
You are shocked at the lovestruck look on his face but you know he’s just pussy drunk. “Oh, uh, wow. She was that good?” You can’t deny that you’re a little pleased that you’ve gotten Dieter in this state. You snort when he nods rapidly. “Wow. You can’t have a lot of people finger your ass.” You murmur.
"What did you say?" Dieter eyes widen drastically and he lurches forward to grab your hand. "Do you know her? Did she say something? You have to give me her number." The only way you know about that detail is if she told you.
You curse your slip up, letting him squeeze your hand. “I- I don’t know her. I haven’t spoken to anyone. I don’t have her number.” You answer his questions, “besides, I thought you were in love with that model you fucked a couple of weeks ago.”
"I didn't fuck her." Dieter admits, letting go of your hand and shaking his head. 
"Bullshit Dee, I was there when you two were getting out of bed." 
He winces and groans. "I- I was too fucked up. I couldn't- it doesn't matter. I don't give a shit about her. I want the woman from last night." He huffs.
You huff, “doesn’t matter. I’m gonna have to get tested now. Fucking drugs making me forget to be serious and I - i shouldn’t have come to the party last night. Not when you want someone like that model. You want an actress or a model. Someone who can understand your job and who is gorgeous and thin and perfect.”
Dieter frowns, trying to understand and then it hits him. "You?" He gasps out, his jaw dropping. "It was you? Why would you- why didn't you?" He frowns again. "You lied to me." Dieter murmurs. "Why would you lie to me?"
You wince, stepping away from him. “I had to. I- I crashed your party because you didn’t invite me. You’re just- you want your models and your actors here to party with you and I wanted a night off to pretend to be someone else and I ended up being myself with you…just in costume. I’m sorry I lied. I- I’ll hand my resignation in to your manager this afternoon.”
You turn around to start walking out of his bedroom and Dieter jumps out of the bed. Not giving a damn if he's still naked, he rushes forward to stop you. "No! Don't, you can't resign. Please." He begs, grabbing your hand and tugging you to a stop.
You turn to look at him in shock. “I- I don’t understand. You slept with me last night. Me. The woman who gets your coffee. That sees the worst parts of you when you’re high and you still want me here after you fucked me? Are you sure? I- I’m surprised you’re not grossed out.”
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He frowns, angry that someone would say something like that about you. "Who would be grossed out? You're my sexy, naughty nurse? I can't- it's amazing. I've never felt as good as I have with you. Last night was - you let me snort and lick coke off your body. You- you made me cum so fucking hard that I swear I saw stars. Why wouldn't I want you here? I wanted you here when I woke up."
“You say that now but I know you’ll get tired of me. You’ll move on to the next best thing when they come along and I- shit - I know you will get bored of me. I’m the new shiny toy. The shine will wear it off and you’ll fire me.” You sigh, “let’s just skip to the firing part, okay? I misled you. I- I tricked you. You should be mad at me.”
"Why? Why would I get bored of you?" Dieter feels like you are rejecting him and he doesn't like it. "Was it- was it just bragging rights?" He asks quietly. "To say you fucked your boss? A conquest?"
Your eyes widen, “no. No. I- trust me, Dieter. The last thing I expected when I came to the party was to sleep with you. I thought you were messing with me at first when you told me to sit on your face. When you didn’t recognize me…I guess I just wanted to be on the receiving end of your flirting…to feel wanted for once.” You confess softly, avoiding his gaze. “I know I was a one time thing. We had a good time and now…well, my fate is in your hands.”
Dieter frowns, trying to understand why you hadn’t stayed. Why you had run away and left him wondering what the hell he had done wrong. “Why is it a one time thing?” He asks, confused. 
You snort and toss up your hands. “You hit on everyone. Anyone with a pulse. Anyone but me. I know I’m not your type. I’m too- too not a model.” 
Dieter stares at you for a moment before he starts to laugh. “Not my type! You think you’re not my type?” He doubles over laughing and you huff. 
“You’ve never once even looked my way.” You remind him. 
“That’s because Tina threaten to cut my dick off if I hit on you and drove you away!” He tells you, having run off too many assistants before he had found you. “Threatened my dick!”
You chuckle, knowing Tina has been a massive part of controlling him when he threatens to go off the rails. “I must admit I’ve thought about doing that a lot too.” You reveal, “let’s just - just call this what it is. A mistake. You want me now because I’m unattainable but as soon as you take me out and we sleep together a few times, you’ll get bored and move on to the next pretty thing. That’s what you do. I don’t want to risk my job…our working relationship.”
Dieter sighs, knowing he can’t convince you to give him a chance. “That’s not what I want, but okay.” He turns around and walks back to the bed slowly. Wanting to crawl in and just pretend he had never woken up. “Just- I don’t care, I guess I had an amazing dream last night.”
You nod, knowing this is for the best, so you clear your throat. “I’ll - I’ll head home. Your food is getting cold. Text me if you need anything else.” You tell him and shuffle awkwardly when he doesn’t respond so you exit his bedroom and make your way out of his house, tears in your eyes because your boss will never feel the same way you do, even if he doesn’t know how you feel.
Dieter considers getting high. He considers calling up someone to come over and fuck him. Ignoring the food you had left, he wallows in bed, listening to the cleaning service the party planner had hired to clean up today. Wondering why he had not recognized you when it’s so fucking obvious now. Feeling alone and miserable and hating that his hopeful plans had been crushed. You don’t want him and it’s killing him because you should be throwing yourself at him.
You head home, not sure how you even get there as you grip the steering wheel and wonder how he didn’t recognize you. You wish you could turn around, go and see him, but you can’t. He’d just break your heart. When you get home, your roommate is lounging on the sofa and she says she’s heading out tonight too, going to this new bar if you wanna join her. Usually, you’d have to say no in case you need to be sober and on call for Dieter but you decide to say fuck it and tell her you’ll go. You get ready, dressing in a cute dress to try and make yourself feel better and you head out to the bar. “What’s got you down?” Your roommate asks as she leans against her boyfriend and you shake your head, picking up your drink to down it. 
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You confess and she scoffs, “is it your asshole boss again? Seriously, he’s a fucking jackass. I don’t know why you don’t quit.” She says and you shake your head, needing another drink. 
“You don’t know what it’s like…I- I can’t quit because I - shit. It doesn’t matter.” You huff and stand up to get another drink. You’re set on getting drunk tonight to try and forget all about your boss. You need to forget about him.
Dieter sighs as he flips through the channels. Hating how he has the biggest cable package and there isn’t shit to watch. He is bored and the idea of partying just sours on his stomach, so he’s sitting at home like an asshole, pining over his assistant. His phone buzzes and he almost ignores it, but he looks over and sees that it’s you. Scrambling to answer it. “Hello? Hello? I’m here. Hey.”
You lean against the bar, "you - you bastard." You slur slightly and Dieter pulls back to look at the phone in shock. 
"Excuse me?" He asks and you chuckle. 
"You he-heard me. You fucking bastard. You sexy...funny...talented, asshole. So - so fucking handsome and God, now I know how good you are in bed and I - you bastard." You repeat, the phone pressed against your ear.
“You’re drunk.” He chuckles, realizing that you have apparently had a little too much to drink after leaving here. 
“And? What of it?” You huff. “I’m a -a adult. I can drink if I want to.” 
Dieter grins, enjoying the slightly belligerent attitude and the sass. “Yes you can, and you licked Coke off my dick if I remember right.” He hums, leaning back against the pillows. “Where are you?”
You ramble off the bar name without thinking, lost in your thoughts, and you continue, "yes. Yes I did. And you fucking loved it. I can't - I can't get your face out of my mind. You looked - God, so sexy. Wish I could've taken a photo. Only chance I'm gonna have to see it."
“That’s not true.” Dieter decides he’s going to get you, getting out of the bed and putting pants on. They are sweats, in better condition than his normal outfits. “You saw my face today.” You huff, blowing a raspberry through the phone. “You know what I mean.” That makes Dieter chuckle as he bounds down the stairs and grabs his car keys. “You looked sexy on my face.” He tells you. “Fucking tasted even better.”
You groan, “see? It’s shit like that that has me in this trouble. You can’t - you can’t just say that and not expect people to fall in love with you.” You rub your eye, smudging your mascara. “You - you’re a horny bastard and you will fuck anyone. I’m not special. Just the flavor of the week.”
Dieter knows you won’t believe him if he says that’s not true. He would have to prove it to you. “So you fell in love with me?” He hones in on that line as he speeds down the road towards the bar you named. It’s one he knows pretty damn well and he wonders if you chose it for that reason. “Because I fucked you? Because of the tongue thing?”
“Nooooo.” You whine, “it’s not - I mean, the tongue thing was fucking amazing but no. It’s - it’s you. I see a side of you that no one else sees and you are a good man. You don’t think you are because you think you have to have this fucking persona, but you’re sweet and kind when you want to be. God, you just - you need someone to ground you.” You sigh, leaning against the bar. “And that person- you need someone incredible.”
“I found someone incredible.” In that, Dieter is completely honest. He realized he doesn’t care about how famous his partner is or what drugs they take. He wants someone who makes him feel like you did last night. “Someone I want to be with.” He hopes you realize he’s talking about you. You should. “I’m going to pick her up right now.”
You don’t pick up what he’s saying too busy moping as you nurse your drink and you sigh down the phone. “Of course you are. I bet she’s perfect for you.” You huff and he chuckles as he pulls into the parking lot. 
“She is.” He says and you groan, “of course. Fuck. I- I hope she makes you happy.” You say and you don’t see him standing in the doorway to the bar.
“She does.” He answers and your roommate’s eyes widen when she sees Dieter walking towards you. “I - I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”
“Just have to convince her to go home with me.” He tells you, walking up and pulling his phone away from his ear. “Hey baby.” He grins when your head snaps up and you stare at him with a shocked expression. “What are you doing- I’m here?” You ask and he snorts. 
“I’m trying to convince the woman I love to come home with me. She’s drunk right now, so I’m hoping she’s crazy enough to believe me when I tell her I want to be with her. Spend all my nights with her. Pleasure her. Because I love her.”
You stare at him in shock, glancing behind you to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself and he nods, chuckling at you. You stumble as you surge forward, cupping his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him.
Dieter laughs as you kiss him, wrapping his arms around you and holds you close. “I love you, baby.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours again and again while your roommate watches on in shock.
“Take me home.” You plead, suddenly desperate for him and your roommate stands up to come over and ask if you’re okay. “Okay? I’m - I’m on top of the world.” You promise her, slurring slightly. “Dieter is gonna take me home.”
She frowns and turns to Dieter. “She’s drunk.” She huffs, poking him in the chest. “She can’t do anything.” Dieter rolls his eyes and grabs your roommate's hand and pats it, “I’m going to take her home and put her to bed.” He promises her quietly. “I don’t want to take advantage of her. I just want to sleep beside her and wake up with her like I should have this morning.”
Your roommates eyes widen, “wait - you- you slept together last night?” She asks and you answer before Dieter does. “Yesss and he was incredible. Made me cum so many times and his tongue…talented for more than just acting, I’ll tell you that.”
He smirks proudly and looks back at your roommate. “I’m going to take her home with me. But don’t worry.” He tells her seriously. “I’m not that kind of man. I like complete and enthusiastic consent and if she’s drunk and I’m sober? That shit doesn’t work for me.”
You lean against him, kissing his neck. “You better look after her.” Your roommate narrows her eyes at him. “I will.” He promises her, wrapping his arm around your waist to steady you. “Come on baby, let’s get you home to bed. To sleep.” He adds and you pout, saying goodbye to your roommate with “bye babe. I’m gonna go ride this gorgeous face.” You say, squeezing Dieter’s chin as he guides you to his car.
Dieter chuckles as he opens the door for you and you don’t want to let him go. It’s strange to be the one taking care of you, but he kind of likes it. “The sooner we get home, the sooner you can climb into bed with me.” He tells you, using the same tactics you use on him. Bribery.
You get in his car and when he’s inside and driving to your place, you reach over to squeeze his cock through his pants. “God. Your cock is so beautiful. Should’ve been a porn star. You would’ve made double the money you’ve made.” You giggle, wanting to suck his cock again.
“Fuck, you’re so horny when you’re drunk.” He groans, hating that you’re drunk and he’s sober. He reaches for your hand and takes it off his cock, squeezing it and putting it on his thigh so he can back out of the parking space. “What changed your mind baby?” He asks. “You were convinced I wouldn’t want you.”
You sigh, lifting your hand off of his thigh to lean your head against the cool glass of the passenger window. “I just want you to fuck me one last time before you lose interest and get distracted to go with someone else.”
“Why do you think I’ll lose interest?” He asks seriously. “Have I ever run after someone? Chased them?”
You close your eyes, suddenly exhausted, “no. You - you never chase. You want people to come to you. To make you feel special. You want validation and - and you get it. From whoever you want. I’m not enough for you.” You confess, knowing you’re spilling your guts again.
“Didn’t I just come to you?” He asks, reaching over and taking your hand. “I just chased you down and I’m dragging you back to my bed.” He snorts. “And I’m not even going to fuck you tonight. I just want to wrap my arms around you and sleep. Give you water and aspirin so you aren’t hung over. Hold your hair if you need to puke.”
He is soon putting the car in park and you are nearly asleep against the window, enjoying the coolness of the glass and you smile against it. “Just tonight. Let me have tonight.” You plead softly.
“You’ll have tonight.” He promises, getting out of the car to walk around and help you out. Not rushing you into the house to fuck you, he grins as you nearly stumble. “You’re so fucking cute.”
You lean against him, desperately wanting to strip off and get into bed, and his arm wraps around your waist. “I got you, baby.” He promises, “gonna get you some water and aspirin.” He assures you and you turn your head to kiss his neck, “thank you.”
He hums, enjoying the kiss but he can’t kiss you, not when you are like this. He guides you into the house and upstairs. “Let me get that water, baby.” He murmurs softly. “You get in the bed.”
You don’t argue, stripping down to your underwear and you slide under the covers. “Come here baby. I want you to fuck me.” You order, wanting him to touch you while you know he still wants you.
Dieter grabs a water and the aspirin, thankful for the little fridge you keep stocked for him. “I can’t fuck you, baby.” He groans, walking over to the bed. “You’re drunk.”
You huff, pulling the covers over your head and you close your eyes. “Knew it was too good to be true.” You murmur, feeling yourself starting to drift off to sleep even though you want Dieter.
Dieter sighs, setting the water down on the nightstand next to you and shuts off the light. He strips back down and climbs under the covers next to you, cuddling against your huddled body. “It’s not too good to be true.” He murmurs, sliding his arm around you. “I’ll show you when you wake up sober.”
When you wake up, your head is throbbing. Worse than your hangover from the day before, and you wince as the sunlight peaks through the blinds. A warm body is pressed against you and you gasp, remembering that you called Dieter last night. “Fuck.” You curse yourself for giving in to your damn feelings.
Dieter tightens his hold on you and grunts when he feels you shift. “Gonna throw up, baby?” He mumbles, lifting his head and cracking one eye open to look over at you. “Trash can is right by the table.”
You weren’t but now that he’s mentioned it, you scramble to grab the trash can, just barely making it before you throw up. Two nights of drinking when you rarely drink has fucked you up and you gag as you throw up the bile and booze from your stomach.
“’s okay.” He pets your hair and holds it back, rubbing your back sympathetically just like you always do for him. Wanting to take care of you, “water and aspirin is on the table.” He reminds you.
You set the trash can down, wiping your face with the back of your hand as you reach for the water, downing half of the bottle before you swallow the aspirin. “Sorry. I know you hate people being gross around you.” You murmur, swallowing some more water.
“You were drunk.” He hums, rubbing your back. “It happens. Fuck knows I’ve been sick enough around you.” He chuckles quietly. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”
You shake your head, “I need to go to the bathroom and I need to brush my teeth.” You smack your lips, hating the feeling after throwing up and you know Dieter keeps new brushes in there for his guests. He nods and you make your way into the bathroom to pee and wash your face before you brush your teeth. You come back into his room to find him still in bed and you sit on the edge. “I, uh, I’m sorry about last night. Calling you while I was drunk…wasn’t very professional of me.”
Dieter shakes his head, sitting up. “I’m glad you called me. Come lay back down.” He urges, holding up the covers but you shake your head and he sighs. “Great.” He huffs. “You’re going to leave again. Because you don’t think that I want you.” He frowns, upset that you continuously think he’s lying. “Fine, go, fuck.” He spits, lurching out of the bed to stomp into the bathroom. “For someone who claims that I would get bored and find someone else, all you’re fucking doing is driving me away.”
“Because I’m trying to protect myself. You aren’t exactly Mr. Commitment and I know - I fucking know that you will want someone who won’t embarrass you at events…pap photos…the life you lead means someone like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. I’m trying to protect myself and you- you’re just - fuck. I wish I was still drunk and believe that you could feel the same way I do.”
“What a fucking bunch of horseshit.” Dieter pokes his head out from the bathroom and shoots you a glare. “I don’t give a goddamn what people think of me. And I would never be embarrassed that a sexy woman want me. Who gives a fuck if you’re not everyone’s ideal woman? You’re mine. But that doesn’t fucking matter because you’ve got it stuck in your head that I’m some kind of monster.” He growls, slapping his hand against the frame. “I am trying to - fuck it, it doesn’t matter. Just get out.” He demands. “Get out if you don’t believe me.” He repeats quietly, closing his eyes. “I’m tired of being rejected by the woman I love.” He disappears back into the bathroom and sighs.
“Wait…” You stand up on shaky legs, “you- you love me? Like in love or just love me as a person or a friend?” You ask for clarity, confused and hopeful as your heart flutters in your chest, the bathroom door still open so you walk towards it.
Dieter is naked, standing in front of the mirror and loading up his tooth brush to clean his teeth when you walk in and stand in the doorway, watching him with an almost hopeful look on your face. “Like in love with a gorgeous, sexy, kind, wonderful woman who I had the most amazing fucking night with, even if I didn’t know it was her, and I want to repeat it. Every night, for as long as she’s not tired of my shit. And, you know, take you out and shit. Show you off on the red carpet.”
You stand frozen, watching him brush his teeth, and you see yourself in the mirror and you feel his words settle over you. He loves you. He’s in love with you. You walk over to the counter, standing next to him. “When did you - when did you fall in love with me?” You wonder if it was that night or if he’s felt like this for a while.
Spitting out the tooth paste, he looks at you and sighs, turning back to the mirror. “Year and a half ago?” He admits. “After …. After the Anika thing went south and you stayed over and let me be a pathetic asshole and mope around.” He shrugs. “I thought it was rebound shit, but I wasn’t fucking you and the feelings never went away.”
You’re surprised. He’s never indicated that he felt that way. He had been nicer after that time, more considerate to you. Didn’t call you randomly at 3 am for you to grab a script or some stupid shit like that. “I, uh, I’ve been in love with you since before we went to England for you to fall in love with Anika. You, uh, you were doing a script read for that movie and you looked so into your work, so passionate. I saw you in a new light and uh, yeah. It wasn’t fun to watch you wanna be with Anika but I never imagined you’d want me. So, uh, yeah…I’m in love with you too.” You confess, keeping your gaze on his in the mirror.
"Why wouldn't I want you?" That is what keeps upsetting him. "You don't think you're beautiful? You're not sexy?" He asks you seriously. "Since when does your size, your weight, make you unattractive?" He asks seriously. "You've got a gorgeous face, a wonderful personality. Amazing tits, killer ass, thick- luscious thighs and a pussy that had me jerking off like four times today." He huffs. "So don't tell me that you can't believe that I'm not wanting you."
You sigh, “honestly? My mom - she put me on a diet when I was ten. I went to weight watchers by thirteen. She told me I’d never get a boyfriend if I didn’t lose weight. No one would want to marry a fat girl. I never got asked out in high school or college. Never got asked to prom. I was always the funny one…the friend…never the one that guys wanted. My friends? They’d ask them out but never me. I’ve never seen myself as - as a leading lady so to speak and that’s why I’m like this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I keep pushing my insecurities on you but you’re so handsome and funny and I hear my mother’s voice telling me this is too good to be true. That I’m not good enough for this.”
"Fuck your mom." Dieter huffs, pushing away from the sink and tossing his tooth brush down on the counter before he reaches for your hand. "You're hungover, just threw up and you're doing this to me." He takes your hand and pulls it to his hard cock. "I'm a jerk. I'm shallow, I'm fucking horny and you think I will fuck anything with a pulse. That used to be true. But I don't want to fuck just anyone. I want to fuck you. I want that sexy fucking girl who sat on my face and rode my dick like she was a cowgirl and let me just - fuck baby." He twitches in your hand at the thought. "You don't judge me for being myself. I love that and I love you."
You stare at him, processing his words and your fingers flex around his cock. “God, Dee.” You murmur, stepping closer to him and you let go of his cock to wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you. I love you. Please don’t hurt me.” You plead softly, clinging to him.
Dieter turns his head, kissing you gently despite you getting sick earlier. “I don’t want to, baby.” He promises. “I want- I want to take care of you.” It’s surprising, since he’s the one who is normally cared for, but he wants to try something different with you. “You want to go back to bed?” He offers quietly, “to rest. I know you have a killer headache. You drank a lot apparently.”
You nod, ready to lay down again. “Come on. I want to cuddle, Bravo.” You smile as he nods and you slide under his covers again, sighing in relief as you get to close your eyes and you feel him behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “You maybe want to fuck the hangover away?” You ask, tracing the freckles on his forearm.
“Do you want to?” Dieter asks, smirking as he presses his face into the back of your neck. His cock is poking against your ass. “I can keep it slow. Not jar you too much.” He hums. “Fuck you just like this while I rub your clit? Or you want to lay under me?”
“Like this. Want you to fuck me like this. Lazy and slow. We aren’t in a rush.” You grind back against him, “I just want to feel connected to you. I want to feel you.” You murmur, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair.
Dieter hums and closes his eyes at the feeling of your fingers through his hair. Sliding his hand between you so he can grip his cock and shuffles forward. “I can do that. I can make it good for you, baby.”
You pull your panties aside for him and he notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you. “Shit.” You moan, eyes closing as he slowly stretches you out. “God, I love you.” You murmur, leaning against his body as his hand slides up to cup your breast.
“Fuck, I love you.” He hums. “I can’t believe that was you and I didn’t recognize you.” He admits breathlessly. “I should have. I think about you all the time.”
You chuckle breathily, “to be fair…I was wearing a wig and I- I was dressed in something I would never wear except it was one of the costumes my roommate has.” You tell him with a smirk as he rocks into you and you squeeze over his hand on your breast.
“Love your roommate.” He grunts. “Need her to give you more outfits to wear.” He jokes. “But you need to, fuck, tell her that I didn’t touch you last night.” He pants out. “Think she might cut my balls off.”
You snort as his hips press against your ass. “I’ll tell her. She - she isn’t your biggest fan because she’s been there during all the 3am calls and late night runs to get you what you want.” You confess, grabbing his hand and sliding it down into your panties until his fingers find your clit.
Dieter groans when you clench down around him, rubbing your clit just to hear you moan his name quietly. “Yeah but I’m good.” He protests. “I’m gonna make you feel so good baby.”
Whimpering, you relax against him and let him rut into you, his fingers on your clit and he rubs a little faster as you get closer to your orgasm, spurred on by the feelings shared between you. “Dee. I’m - I’m gonna cum.” You warn him, your head on his shoulder.
“That’s good, baby, you cum on my fingers and my cock.” He groans, kissing along your shoulder. “Want you to soak me like you did last night. Fuck, you were so sweet.”
You gasp, clamping down on his cock as he pushes into you while rubbing your clit. The orgasm flows through you slowly and your mouth opens in a silent cry as you soak him, your nails digging into his forearm.
“God that’s it. Soak me, baby. Fuck you’re so pretty when you cum.” He groans in your ear. Rubbing your clit to work you through it.
Panting, your walls flutter around him and you reach back to pull on his hair, "cum for me, Dee. Cum. Wanna feel it." You plead, feeling his thrusts get sloppy.
Dieter groans out your name, hisses at the flash of pain from having his hair pulled. “Oh fuck baby.” He groans, kissing along your neck, “gonna cum. Gonna fill you up.”
His hips push against your ass, his cock twitching and you moan when he starts to cum, filling you up with his hot seed and you turn your head to kiss his jaw. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You ramble, loving how he feels, how he sounds, how he makes you feel.
His eyes slip closed and he whines your name again, holding you tight. Fucking blown away and amazed that you love him. That you want to be with him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up, doesn’t want to lose you. “I love you baby.” He groans. “Want to snort Coke off your tits forever.”
You giggle as he relaxes behind you, still inside of you, and you close your eyes. “You can. As long as you want me, I’m yours. We just gotta talk about me being your assistant and finding the balance between work and personal. We can talk about that later when you’re not inside of me.” You tease him.
“I don’t know if I can.” Dieter grunts. “I’m gonna be inside you all the time. You can be my ‘on the cock’ assistant.” He jokes, kissing your shoulder. “I want this to work. I know you have to be professional. I don’t want anyone talking bad about you.”
You hum, squeezing his hand as he kisses your shoulder again. “We will figure it out baby. We will. As long as we communicate and we love each other, we can face it all.” You promise and he smiles against your skin, “and you’ll get those costumes from your roommate?” He asks, “and the wigs.” You tease and he hisses in victory. “Fuck yes.” You giggle and snuggle into his expensive mattress, exhausted but excited. Crashing Dieter’s Halloween party turned out to be the best decision you’ve ever made.
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blouisparadise · 1 month
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Today we have the fourth part of our hurt/comfort rec list for you! There are tons of amazing fics on this list that we hope you'll show some love to. If you missed the previous parts, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Wanna Feel the Edges Start to Burn | Explicit | 6,111 words
Harry gives him a gentle smile. “Feeling a little bit better?” Louis nods tentatively. “I think so yeah. Thank you so much for being so kind, but you really didn’t need to do this.” He lifts his unfortunately still shaky hand and runs it haphazardly through his hair. “It was just a spilled tea, I totally overreacted. I’m a bit embarrassed to be honest.” Harry scoffs. “Are you kidding me? Don’t be. I saw the whole thing, that guy was way out of line. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Louis gives him what he’s sure is a watery smile. “Erm thank you. I wouldn’t normally admit this to a stranger, but you’ve already seen me cry today so what the hell?” He forces himself to let out a weak laugh. “The thing is, my period is due any day now and sometimes the birth control pills make my emotions go a little haywire. I think that’s what happened.”
2) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,894 words
“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.
3) Wanna Do Nothing With You | Explicit | 9,606 words
The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital. He’s told that he wasn’t unconscious the entire ride, but he has absolutely no recollection of it. One second he’s fucking around in his own garden and the next he’s being assaulted with the strong sterile scent of a hospital. So. There’s that.
4) Let Me Be Your Good Night | Explicit | 10,520 words
Louis goes on a shit Valentines date and Harry's the cute waiter who takes him home
5) For The Love Of Biscuits | Mature | 16,574 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
The thing about hybrids is that their animal instincts make them jumpy. And quite often lends them to being owned. Harry Styles wasn't looking to purchase a half-breed. But sometimes things just happen. And owning a fox/human hybrid was something that happened.
6) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18,088 words
Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone. One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts. Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts. Three: They do not get along. So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.
7) Soup Of The Day | Explicit | 19,958 words
It had been the single minded goal for them since college and seemed simple enough. 1. Study hard. 2. Open their dream restaurant. 3. Take the culinary world by storm. What could possibly go wrong?
8) Under The Rain Or Under The Snow | Explicit | 20,667 words
Christmas AU where they broke up a month ago but Harry shows up at Louis’ childhood home for the holidays. Louis didn’t tell his mum about their breakup so staying with them is not ideal. Harry stays.
9) Heart Eyes | Explicit | 21,467 words
Harry is a dedicated sentinel with a strong aversion to demons, and Louis is the lovesick incubus who will go to any lengths to win Harry's heart.
10) It Was All By Design (‘Cause I’m A Mastermind) | Explicit | 21,986 words
“You can’t be serious. You think I would be so awful to work for - you would rather quit?” “Don’t be all high and mighty about it,” Harry scoffs. “Surely you would do the same.” “I’m not being high and mighty. It’s called being professional.” “Really?” Harry pushes. “You’d work diligently under me with no complaints? You’d do whatever I asked of you?” “That would be my job, so yeah.” Harry shakes his head. “I’d work you so fucking hard,” he says slowly, “that you’d have to quit.”
11) Thrown To The Wolves | Explicit | 21,681 words
Louis is a human living in the Styles' wolf pack who can't stop getting into trouble, and Harry is the soon-to-be alpha who thinks keeping Louis at arm's length is the safest option.
12) Letters To June | Mature | 41,150 words
It's 1915, Europe is in the middle of the Great War. Omega Louis decides to join the Letter Home Project to become someone’s penfriend. Through this he meets a lovely soldier who hasn't got anyone else to send a letter to. Along with his letter, comes a picture of the most handsome alpha Louis has ever seen.
13) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47,099 words
Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.
14) As We Are | Explicit | 48,268 words
Louis doesn't think much when he's asked to meet up with the alpha of the pack two hours from his own - he figures it's business as usual. But Harry Styles is anything but usual.
15) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words
Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who’s never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?
16) Of Lost Things | Explicit | 57,890 words
Louis comes with a familiarity Harry has never felt with anyone else before. After their fateful meeting, their chemistry became undeniable, and soon after, Harry had felt like he hit the jackpot when it came to finding the person he would spend the rest of his life with. But all relationships come with their own unique problems, and Harry soon realizes that their relationship is no different. When their problems go from unordinary to nearly bizarre in nature, he takes it upon himself to find an answer to their troubles. What he stumbles upon are terrifying coincidences between his and Louis’ story, and the ill-fated mythological couple, Orpheus and Eury. But it’s all they are; just coincidences, ones that feel as frighteningly familiar as Louis. Except… what if none of this is a coincidence? What if everything Harry has always seen as fiction is true, and myth—or rather, history, is about to repeat itself?
17) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,562 words
In the grand scheme of things Louis did believe in love, what he didn’t believe was that he would ever find it in his life time for himself. Low and behold he would find it with someone he didn’t anticipate, now it was just a matter of having it work out the way he dreamed of.
18) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,726 words
Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.
19) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93,131 words
As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.
20) You Were My Because | Explicit | 109,089 words
Note: Please be sure to read the tags and any warnings.
Louis has battled the demons of his past for years now and has little hope of finding happiness for himself. Especially now that a school reunion is taking place and the memories of his school days are suddenly coming back with full force. But after rain always comes sunshine, in Louis’ case in the form of his old schoolmate Harry. A story about healing, friendship, finding trust and love.
21) Drops of Jupiter | Mature | 121,826 words
In a small, sleepy town ruled by prejudice, Louis Tomlinson runs his grandmothers shop for the occult. He finds comfort in his tarot cards, his friends, and a dog that he doesn't have room for. He thought the worst he'd have to deal with would be bigotry, until a new sheriff arrives with a headstrong little girl that's impossible not to fall in love with. But what happens when a string of break-ins leads to a brutal attack, and the towns' darling is murdered right under their Sunday hats? A murder that just so happens to bear the same modus operandi as similar homicides in neighbouring states. Has the killer been circling Virginia, or is he a local of Lavender Hills? And what will Louis do when the charming Sheriff Styles starts to suspect him of such a heinous crime?
22) Sewn Into You | Explicit | 167,485 words | Sequel
Harry Styles thinks soulmates are a fairytale, or in other words-a lie. He has no interest in entertaining anything that has anything to do with the very name that had been etched along his collarbone since his eighteenth birthday. Louis Tomlinson won't be answering to another alpha for the rest of his life if he can help it. Fuck happy endings, his soul mate can choke on it. Problem is, Harry needs a personal assistant to save his family's business, Louis needs the cash to officially move off of his childhood best-friend's couch. They can manage. Surely, nothing will go wrong.
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allycat75 · 7 months
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Screaming into a void time (another long one, sorry)...
Ok, I have tolerated these shenanigans with the Boston bonehead and his merry band of clout chasers and liars, watching his soul decay while everyone (including me) debated whether he was married or not, how many ceremonies they had, how they traveled and where they lived (and was it even their ugly-ass house in MA or NY) but I have to lay down some cold hard truths for our anxiety riddled pothead.
Your decisions, forced or not, have led you to this horrid point. Your only choices may have been between a turd sandwich and a giant douche (thanks, South Park) but you made that choice. And something tells me you didn't just come to this point out of nowhere. There were probably a string of missed lessons along the way that painted you into such a corner.
I know you may be fragile right now but you need to hear this as I suspect you are not hearing it from your loser friends or listening to the ones who do have your best interest at heart.
You are teetering on the ragged edge, my friend. I just saw the first trailer for Pain Hustlers and I can see why they released it only a week and a half before it is in the theaters- because Netflix wants to bury it. Another in a long line of duds your team should have been adept at steering you clear from. You better hope the strike last long enough to where Red One has to be postponed until next year, otherwise you will pull off the hat trick of working your ass off on three movies that have showcased how little anyone cares (you or the audience). I could be wrong about Red One, but this was filmed during your fugue state where the real Chris disappeared and was replaced with a stoned automaton who had no problem selling out everything he believed in. Not conducive to the best creative energy.
Well, buddy, it is time to wake up. You are aware of what is going on in the world, right? You used to have a website that cared about this stuff. Too bad you couldn't use this time off from the strike to pour into that instead of pretending to get married to a woman you refuse to touch or even sit near, breadcrumming two weddings by leveraging the poor boundaries you have established with your family and friends and giving the worst interview to GQ, making you look like a tone deaf, moronic, pretentious asshole.
You need to separate yourself from these racist, anti-semites NOW. While some outside the fandom are starting to notice, it will catch on like a house on fire if you aren't careful. Remember how easy it was for the fandom to find out all this shit about them last year? And now look at what is going on outside. Hamas is a terrorist organization who wants nothing more than to have Jews exterminated from the planet. And here in the US, we have someone vying to be Speaker of the House (second in line for the Presidency) who describes himself as "David Duke without the baggage"; you remember David Duke, right? You used to stand up to him before you were made to look like a fucking joke).
There is no such thing as a little bit racist, or a little bit antisemetic, and for all intents and purposes, you married one, with all her "baggage". Certificate or no certificate; pictures or no pictures. This isn't one of those things that you can claim plausible deniability. You are in it. And if you think your privlege can save you, maybe it can, but I doubt it. It may not have happened yet, but the Sword of Damocles is hanging just above your head.
It comes down to the difference between intent and impact. No one really believes this has been your intent, but that matters little to those impacted by your actions. I know you have "cyclical unhappiness" when you think about the small stuff too much, but too bad. There is no way to take yourself out of the equation. You are not a used car lot balloon, who frantically moves every which way until the air is let out and deflates into nothing. You are a grown human being and like all of us, have a responsibility to understand your place in the universe. Otherwise, you are just stepping over bodies with such carelessness- the teacher in Portugal who only thought she was supporting a charity, your friends trying to promote one of your crappy movies, only to have it derailed by your drama backstage, fans getting harassed and even receiving death threats for speaking the truth we see with our own eyes. You may not be doing these things with your own hands, but that does not absolve your responsibility.
As I said before, this is your time to wake up. Coming clean with pure heart and honesty is the only solution at this point. If you wait too long or dig your heals in, like we have seen before, it will be too late. Do you think Jinx will want to partner with an antisemite loving dog dad? What studio will hire you, even for your one movie a year? Based on your crappy decision making skills, I have a feeling any pottery you sell will be break even with the amount of pot you smoke. So invest wisely and I hope your accountants are more trustworthy than the rest of the people you have surrounded yourself with.
Now, I am actually a very kind person who for some reason is still rooting for you. I still think there is a good person buried deep in there. These are rare and may be why I can't give up just yet.
You have the con this weekend. I know you can't promote Captain America, but think back to what he stood for. You even referenced him and how you aimed to be more like him in that god forsaken GQ video. So do it, you dummy! You will feel much better when your soul is unburdened. Then follow the advise I and many others have given before:
Get a good therapist and do the work
Decide if you really want to act or not; if so, take some classes to shake the cobwebs off; If not, are you going to be ok giving up the perks?
Don't use weed as a crutch
Establish clear boundaries with family and friends
Remove relationships (personal and professional) that are no longer serving you or even doing you harm
Listen to what your head and the universe is telling you
Do not get into a relationship until you have an idea of who you are and at least get to the "like" stage
To quote Florence and the Machine (Wish That You Were Here):
And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here
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hwan-g · 1 year
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DAWN TO FLIGHT 🚂 chan & changbin.
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part one/four of the skz go to hogwarts! series.
MOODBOARD | PLAYLIST
pair. quidditch captain! chan x fem! reader (+ changbin, minho) | genre. romance, slight angst, smut | warnings. profanity, food, possessiveness, unprotected sex, dirty talk, manipulation, brief mentions of dark magic | word count. 8.6k
synopsis. history will include him in its thickest books. but you? if you stay with him, you’ll be nothing but a mention, an afterthought. ‘she was there, but he was bigger than life,’ and it’ll be true, but it will all be for him, and it wasn’t jealousy or envy—
“Alright everyone, gather up!”
A crisp autumn morning, trees naked of leaves, mountains in the process of preparing for winter, and the Great Lake, its vast deepness, all the creatures concealed beneath the freezing waters—it was Quidditch time. The first practice of the season.
And Chan’s last year as the captain of the Gryffindor team.
Laughs echoed in the oval pitch, five-hundred feet long and one-hundred and eighty feet wide, with the tall spectator towers, four colors to them but switching down to two every match, to signify the playing squads. Red jerseys and flowing capes, helmets, gloves, and brooms of every kind looked back at the leader, ready for some flying action after a long summer break away from Hogwarts. The castle in question appeared grand as ever from afar, its stone walls and top peaks standing proudly, indicating centuries of magic and wizards alike.
“Quit your yapping!” Changbin barked, coming to stand next to his best friend. The murmurs of the crowd seized immediately. “Go ahead, captain,” he smiled brightly at Chan.
Chan smirked, nodding at him. “Thanks for that,” he turned to address his teammates. “Welcome to another year of Quidditch. As you can see, one of our Chasers, as well as our only Keeper have graduated, leaving us no choice but to hold trials for new members. I took it upon myself, Bin here lending me a hand on picking out their replacements.”
He gestured at the unfamiliar figures standing awkwardly at one side, not quite blending in with the rest, brooms clenched tight. The two oldest broke in toothy grins, trying their hardest to reassure. After all, the age difference wasn’t that significant.
“This is Jake, a Third Year student, and Eunwoo, our fellow senior. They’re both excellent fliers that will hopefully help lead us to victory against the Slytherins.” Snickers all around, whispers of not-so-kind words spreading among the team. Chan chuckled, sharing their sentiment. “Yes, no one counted on the loss of last year, but we’ve held that Cup, we know its weight, and we know exactly what to do and how to play to earn it again,” he finished his pep speech with a clap of his hands. “So, then, if everyone’s ready, a round of applause for our new friends, and let’s begin!”
“Let’s fucking go!” Changbin shouted, lifting his broom in the air, before mounting it and flying away to his spot as a Beater, alongside Jungkook.
Practice lasted nearly two periods, the captain dimming it important for everyone to get accustomed to the way the new boys moved around, and of course, to teach them all about their positions. Jake had been recommended by Hagrid, mentioning how he met him back on his First Year, and how much of a natural he was on his broom, passing the class with flying colors, and afterwards helping him with miscellaneous tasks that included heights much taller than the gatekeeper could reach. Eunwoo had played once before as a Seeker when he was much more compact sized and curious about the sport. Then, he’d resigned as classes got more difficult, assignments multiplied, and time was of essence.
Seventh Year seemed like a good year to return to it. It was everyone’s last opportunity to enjoy flying before heading off to jobs at the Ministry, or studying in Trade School, or returning to Muggle life. Their last chance of being carefree, doing something they love unapologetically, without regrets.
For Chan it was one step before going professional, chasing after his dream of being part of his home country’s regional team, the Wollogong Warriors. Australia was an ocean away from England, he’d left it for Hogwarts at an early age, but his heart would never forget his roots, his birthplace. When he’d moved into his dorm, the Warriors poster with the moving team members lining up for the picture, had been the first thing he’d taped on the headboard of his bed. A reminder to never lose focus of his one true love, of what he'd been shown of magic, of flying, at the mere age of six. Being a half-blood, the balance between the two worlds, it was as easy as breathing to him. Because he’d been raised in a loving home, because no one refused him his real nature, what he was, what he’d grow up to be.
Unlike some, Chan had a purpose. A premeditated life. Regional, then international. And no one would get in his way, no one dared. No one could. Being captain of the Gryffindor team was just the start.
“Time!” he yells, flying close to Jake who paused his movements to stare at his captain. “Good play, mate, but you see what you just did there is called stooging. Not more than one Chaser can enter the scoring area,” he explained, patting the boys’ back encouragingly.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Changbin offers, flying past them with his bat.
A slight drizzle made everyone look up at the gathering clouds, a nasty storm winding up to fall upon the grounds. They agreed on doing a few more rounds before Chan called it a day. They all had classes to attend pretty soon, anyway. Not to mention his growling stomach.
“This would be a good time to end it. Great job everyone! Don’t forget, we only have two more practices before our match with Hufflepuff, so please take care of yourselves, and I’ll see you around.”
“Fuck yeah!” Jungkook exclaimed, earning a few whistles and claps.
As everyone landed on their feet, running to escape the rain that grew stronger with each minute, Chan took shelter under the gateway of the field, catching his breath before heading to the Great Hall for some lunch. Changbin stayed behind as well, talking to you about Seeker techniques.
You’d been their Seeker since your Third Year, getting better with each match, winning them the Cup twice. An important member of the team, no one could disagree, but also—his childhood friend, his first friend coming to Hogwarts, and eventually…his fuck buddy.
“Well, why are you just standing there, Bang Chan? Let’s go, I’m starving,” you speak out to him, lifting the hood of your cape, conjuring an invisible umbrella with your wand. “Get under, losers.”
Changbin huffs, his brown hair getting in his eyes, heavy with humidity. “I’ll have you know—”
You sigh, your lips turning inwards into a thin line. “I don’t care, Seo. I’ll leave you to drown. Who forgets their wand? What kind of wizard—” and the bickering continues, the two of you going at it tirelessly, as you make your way to the castle, the yet unchanged green scenery stretching before you.
Chan, ever the smart guy, keeps his wand with him at all times, exactly for situations like these, and fixes himself an umbrella as well, walking alongside you, enjoying the pattering of rain, the way your fingers search for his own, the faintest of touch between you, as you make Changbin go red with embarrassment, your teasing overwhelmingly immodest at times. He doesn’t miss the wink you throw him out of the corner of his eye.
He smiles to himself.
Passing through the Entrance Hall, you cast a drying spell on the three of you, taking off your gear as you head to the Great Hall. It’s uncommonly quiet as you take your seats, the long tables mostly empty, albeit for a few students snacking on fruit and nuts, finishing homework, or reading to themselves. The big windows bleed a cloudy blue over everything, the rain finally taking its full form, hitting against stone, against grass, against still water. You’re smack in the middle, the Gryffindor bench facing straight ahead to the headmaster’s seat at the teacher’s tabletop. McGonagall had gone completely soft on them, what with it being the last year before her retirement and losing the Quidditch Cup, rather unfairly if you might add. Slytherin colors were pretty, but everyone held a certain pride for their Houses; it had nothing to do with prejudice.
Not anymore.
Chan waves to the Ravenclaw table, Jisung hunched over thick books, a big teapot at his side. He seems entirely lost within the words, scribbling away with his quill, but his head snaps upwards, his eyes dazed, as he waves back mechanically.
“Don’t go crazy over there, yeah?” the captain calls out, and Jisung grins, soft hair covering his forehead.
“Assignment due this evening, Bang. Need the credits.”
“He’s a lost case,” Changbin muses, his signature smile in place as food appears in front of them. “Merlin’s beard, is that orange cake?”
You giggle, and dig right in. “You’re the lost case here, Binnie.”
Silence falls upon you as plates clink, utensils move, the pea soup and bread disappearing in record time, pumpkin juice clenching your thirst, cake satisfying your sweet tooth. Changbin’s tooth, especially. That man has an unmatched weakness for dessert of all kinds, it’s unbelievable, yet his physique is even better than Chan’s, something you thought impossible. You’d witnessed his naked upper body and all its glory last year at a game of ‘truth or dare’ in the Gryffindor common room, drunk on firewhiskey. It had been a chaotic night, and most of it a blur, really, but this one thing you remember.
Well into the game, he’d taken a dare. ‘Do fifty push ups shirtless.’ It’d been one of the girls that often followed him around after classes, and she’d said it bravely, like she’d rehearsed it a few times. He complied, of course, jumping at the opportunity to show off his toned arms and chiseled abs. Quidditch helped immensely, but this was work done mostly by himself, in his room. You knew because Chan joined him frequently, the two of them working out into the late hours of the night, when everyone else was asleep.
You also did things after hours, after everyone else had gone to bed. But you’d rather not talk about that, the mere thought painting your cheeks a flushed shade of pink.
“We need to talk strategies,” Chan spoke, his serious face on, as he leaned closer to you. “The new guys are good, but they need to get better. We can’t afford to lose matches.”
“Give them some time, mate, yeah? Jake hasn’t played a game in his life,” Changbin reasoned, enjoying a bite of baked orange.
“That’s true,” you agreed. “Not to mention Jisung’s reading, have you forgotten?”
“For fuck’s sake, not this again.”
Chan’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t believe in Divination, Seo? Is that why you failed so miserably?” His and your eyes meet, the teasing ensuing like it’d never stopped to begin with.
Your friend rested his head on top of his hand, feigning annoyance. “You two idiots are so incredibly gullible, it’s laughable. Seeing the future? What’s next? Flying unicorns?”
You laugh, holding your stomach, the enchanted ceiling thundering. “Says the one that attempted to give them wings as a gift for his sister's birthday.”
“I almost succeeded,” Changbin makes a face, giving up. “Who knew pegasus' really are mythical.” He fake-sulks for a bit, serving himself another slice of cake, gulping it in four bites. “In any case, how’s Slytherin not winning, giving us the Cup by default? There are other teams besides theirs.”
Chan looks at you and you look back, blinking. The silence is deafening. Changbin realizes, choking on juice. You smile, patting his head. Rude.
“Wow. That’s shit spirit for our fellow Houses, isn’t it? Shame on the both of you.”
“All I’m saying is,” the captain raises a leg up on the bench, popping a grape in his mouth. “As long as they don’t get it, I’m fucking content.”
“We’ll discuss strategies at the next practice, okay? I have Charms to attend. Please go to class, N.E.W.T’s are a thing, you know,” you get up, blowing a kiss in their general direction, and wave again at Jisung. He smiles in return. “Both of you go shower, you stink.”
“Love you too, baby girl,” Chan retorts, a lazy smirk on his face.
Your elective courses were giving you a hard time already. You’d never been a top student, nor were you looking to become one now, but your grades had, at the very least, been average, passing you through your exams easily, staying between Acceptable and Exceeding Expectations since your Fifth Year. All this, on top of Quidditch, and wanting to internship at St. Mungo’s—it was too much, you would suffer in ways you’ve never experienced before, you could already tell by the strain on your neck, that ache running down your spine, the thud your bed made every night you’d fall on it.
September hadn’t even ended yet. You sigh as you tighten the hold on your books against your chest, walking to your fourth and last class for the day—Potions. You’d bumped into Changbin earlier, him on his way to Transfiguration, you running a quick errand for your teacher before the subject began. The truth of the matter was, your friends were on a different wavelength than you, and because of that, you’d see them less and less over the course of this year. Chan had taken it upon himself to overlook First Years’ flying lessons, giving his all to that sport he loves so much, with only a couple selective classes to fill in the blanks, and Changbin wanted to become an Auror, so his time was spread across a few things, Defense against the Dark Arts being one, spending his weekends at the Ministry of Magic, and Quidditch bringing you all together.
Meanwhile your dream was to become a Healer, someone that’s supposed to know all, or at least a bit of everything, so in that way, you think you set yourself up for insanity from the get-go. Working hard for extra credits, spending awful hours in the library alongside Jisung, the two of you skimming through countless books, empty teacups, and ink-stained sleeves. If you didn’t have magic, you’d think it impossible for a person to graduate from this school. It was a nightmare already.
But you did it all, anyway. At least there were no wars to be fought, like times passed, at least no dark wizards threatened to burn the world down, kill innocent lives, rule in blood. Just the hum of fall, the sound of lightning over the mountains, early starts in your days, and late notes, draped over answers, and essays, and ancient scriptures written in calligraphy, words unrecognizable—
Sitting down at your usual place in the very front, you waited for your professor, making small talk with your classmate; a pale, Hufflepuff girl you shared a ton of other classes with. She suggested studying together later that night, and you agreed, excited for a different library partner. You liked Jisung, but he was too quiet when focused, too much of a bookworm. Not a bad thing, of course, but not a particularly good match to your more animated character.
“Good evening, class,” the professor entered, smiling kindly.
After the resignation of Slughorn, Potions had never been the same. And still, that old man had half a mind teaching, the other half rubbing shoulders with the rich students, inviting them to his exclusive club every single year. You wondered what it was like back in the day when Severus Snape taught. You figure it was glorious.
“We’ll go over a Sixth-Year potion today, something I’m sure you’re familiar with. The Draught of Living Death.”
His robes swung with him as he turned his back to the rest of you and started scribbling instructions on the board, guiding you through what you’ll need, encouraging you to light the fire under your cauldrons. You take a peek at the back of the class—Kim Seungmin, Head Boy of Ravenclaw, Lee Minho, pureblood of Slytherin, his desk tidy, his fire lit, his eyes shining in the dark ambience of the room. He notices your stare, stares back. You gasp, turning away in a hurry, embarrassed. You’ve never talked to him, yet you grew up together inside the walls of this very castle, shared similar tribulations, and had mutual acquaintances. It was funny, really. You were a muggle-born, and did not belong in this world, learning the same things as him, excelling in them, waving your wand around.
In a different time, you’d be ridiculed for it, he’d hunt you for who you were, what you represented. But as it is now, in modern days, long lines of aristocracy, money dating back to the sixteenth century, mansions with engravings of his very name on his doorstep still very much present—he did not care for such insignificant things, not anymore. None of them did. The wizarding community had shifted, it had finally changed to tread with the footsteps of the times and age. You’d been glad for it, although couldn’t quite shake the feeling of your fellow muggle-borns, how they didn’t have the same privilege you do now, to live free, without shame, amongst people who’ve known this incredible thing since they were born, when you’d only learned of its existence a mere few years ago, through a letter that would change your entire trajectory.
What a strange feeling. Carrying the weight of history.
“Who can tell me the seven ingredients of this potion?”
You raised your hand immediately, eager to voice the answer, and gain your House some points. So were other students, apparently.
“(Y/L/N), go ahead,” he signaled to you, the lines on his forehead carved deep, that friendly smile never leaving his aged face.
“Valerian root, Moondew, Flower head…”
After class ended it was already dark, the grounds illuminated by the flames of torches. Making your way with the Hufflepuff girl to the Great Hall for dinner, (her name was Chaeyoung she’d introduced herself); she’d seen you around with the boys, but was too shy to approach you, was very glad when you did. Loud voices, and relieved students filled the corridors, ready for some food and a good night’s sleep, and you couldn’t agree more—if only you didn’t have to spend most of your night at the dreaded library, with its frightening silence, and tall bookshelves that stretched as far as the eye can see.
“Hello, Gryffindor girl.”
Your yawn was cut short, books clutched tight against your chest—next to you, falling in step, was Royalty Incarnate Lee Minho, the very guy you failed to look straight in the eye only moments prior. You both blinked at each other, as your feet instinctively stopped moving.
Chaeyoung eyed you strangely, as did most students that passed by you. Minho seemed to pay them no mind, as if they didn’t even exist. Such was the nature of Slytherins, encasing themselves in glass, stepping over everything that did not serve their purpose, going through life aloof, unapproachable. What was this boy doing with you, then? What was his business?
“Can I help you?” you prodded him to continue, curious.
Dark purple hair falling into round, glittery eyes—for many centuries now, you’d learned, this was the Lee family’s signature give-away; silky, prune colored hair. Just as was Hwang's slitted, serpent-like shape of the eyes. There’s been so many of them, the line running so far back, that these things have developed a pattern, a tradition. Like freckles or moles for the Muggles, but grander, more distinct.
He gives you a quick smile, kind but impatient. He really is very handsome, you think, but— otherworldly, not to be messed with, not to be touched. Dark magic in human form. The only student to have a Phoenix feather wand core in all their school years. Powerful. You’ve only known him by rumor, never by fact.
“Certainly,” he replies curtly. “You are to be a Healer, yes?”
You furrow your brows, no idea as to where this was heading. “Indeed.”
Minho grins at you, then, all perfect straight teeth, boyish charm. “Excellent. A very promising intern, I hear.” To your evident confusion he provided an explanation, “My family is directly involved with the hospital. I require your assistance,” he stopped mid sentence, and glanced at Chaeyoung who was listening in.
“Excuse us,” he spoke politely, grabbing you by the arm. You looked at him bewildered, but followed along just for the sake of understanding why, out of everyone and especially a Gryffindor, would be his first thought of selfless aid?
“I am in the process of starting a very intricate potion, Ms. (Y/L/N), and having heard of your Potions grades, as well as the exemplary impression you’ve left on the Head of St. Mungo’s, I just had to recruit you,” he finishes, and gives you one long convincing look, before moving away, his touch dropping from your aching arm.
His words don’t quite register in your ears. Sure, you were a fairly good student and tried your absolute best with your internship, but what sort of potion couldn’t be followed with simple book instructions and a friend’s support?
Minho’s eyes flashed. It dawned on you. Unless…
“This isn’t school related, is it?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Bringing your books closer to you, your mouth turns into a thin line, disapprovement on the ready. You did not know this boy, had nothing to do with him, and certainly owed him even less. What he was asking of you was—ridiculous. Insane. Intriguing.
“And what is your purpose with this potion, Lee?” you asked after a short pause.
The Slytherin straightened his back, smoothed his expensive robes with one hand, and glanced at you over his nose. You did not break eye contact, determined to get the truth out of him. Serpents had a way of manipulating themselves out of situations—you’ve seen all of their tricks.
“Step the fuck back, Minho.”
A body crashed onto yours, enveloping half of you into big, muscled arms, a familiar cologne invading your nostrils. Bang Chan to the rescue, as always, Changbin close behind, both clad in warm, red sweaters with your House emblem. Looking up at your best friend’s angular face, you couldn’t help but notice the barely contained possessiveness he’s been letting himself show more and more lately. Both boys had always been protective of you, but considering the last relationship status change you’ve had with the captain, it made the dynamic strange, the waters untested. You, unsure of how to feel when he acted like this.
The purple haired boy smirked faintly, hands raised in front of him. “No trouble here, Bang, just small conversation between classmates. We’re allowed, are we not?”
Chan’s hand squeezed your shoulder, a silent question. You nodded your head, something he saw out of the corner of his eye, his hold relaxing slightly. Nothing changed in his stance, though. Defensive, ready to kill for his own—a true Gryffindor, through and through.
“What would you have to say to my girl?” It felt like time stopped, as soon as he uttered the word. “Say it, then. Go on.”
People were beginning to gather; Changbin cleared his throat in warning. You looked around, sighing as you did. It always had to be a showdown, a fight for dominance with Chan. Feeling your blood boil, and your nerves strain in the back of your head, you jerked away from him, Minho smugly watching you do so, hands coming to clasp together behind his back.
“Let’s go, Chaeyoung,” you said to your new friend, desperate to leave all three boys stewing in their own testosterone.
“Seems like you jumped the gun there, Christopher, yeah?”
“(Y/N),” his voice yelled after you. “(Y/N) wait, goddamnit!”
“Let her go, Chan.”
“Like hell I am,” was the last thing you heard, before the same arms pulled you towards the opposite direction of the one you were heading, the Hufflepuff girl gasping audibly at your capture.
“Listen to Changbin, Bang Chan,” you warned him, fighting against his scorching touch.
“When do I ever listen, baby girl?”
His breathing erratic, eyes determined, mouth set, the Gryffindor took you to the West wing of the castle, away from everyone else at this hour of the evening, and shoved the both of you inside a forgotten closet, wand out to mutter, “Capacious Extremis.”
The space enlarged twofold at once, and you were able to wiggle out of his vicious grasp with a forceful tug. He let you, that dark gaze studying you intensely.
“What the fuck was that?” you demand, beyond furious with his caveman behavior.
He huffs, passing a hand through his disheveled hair. “Never fucking mind that—what were you doing with Lee Minho out in the open like that?”
You scrunch your face. “‘Out in the open’? What does that even mean?”
“You know what it means.”
He stared you down with hard eyes, trying to figure you out. That’s what Chan did the most; tried to figure everyone out, what made them tick, what was the thing closest to their souls. So he’d be prepared, so he wouldn’t lose. You sigh, suddenly exhausted. It was a wise choice you’d made long ago, picking your fights with him.
This one just wasn’t worth it.
“We were just talking, Chan,” you move your feet to close the gap between your bodies. “I promise.”
Another thing about your captain—he will never waste a good opportunity.
Your lips smash together as his arms wrap around your waist and back protectively, possessively. He groans into the kiss, his tongue taking yours for a short dance, a fight of sorts, pleasure shooting through you like an arrow, like all the other times before, where he’d cornered you, asked for your surrender. Snatched you, anyway. He had this instinct of knowing what you wanted, what you most craved.
Right now it was him, what he offered. His hands on you, fingers tracing their way back into places he’s explored before, has owned countless times after hours, in beds, couches, cold astronomy stairs, closet walls…
“Obedient, are we now?” He mumbles smugly against your mouth, trapping you between his firm chest and stoned wall.
You grab the sides of his face and bring him back in, savoring the minty taste of his full lips. His hands immediately disappear under your robes, lower themselves to your skirt, pulling it up, sinking into the wet fabric of your cotton underwear. You gasp, and let out a broken moan, pressing into his calloused palm, loving the friction it provides for your aching pussy.
“Shut up and fuck me, Bang Chan,” you whisper in his ear, as you cup him over his trousers. He hisses, cursing your name. You smile. “Think you can do that?”
Chan chuckles darkly, rubbing circles over the small bundle of nerves at the top of your cunt. You roll your hips on his digits, holding onto him for dear life, nails digging on his broad shoulders, stomach churning, his cock stirring for attention in your other hand. Your lip trapped in between your teeth, you unzip his pants, dipping in his briefs in search for that delicious length that has filled you so many nights. And days. Some afternoons, after practice, not so far away from the rest of the team, something you both had giggled about, the exhilarating feeling of getting caught messing with your minds—
You’ve fucked a lot, you realize, cheeks burning. But it always made sense, it always felt good. You’d told yourself when it stops being those things, you’d walk away, but as he pulls your panties down, and you guide him to your entrance, sloppy, wet kisses running down your neck, to your collar, over your breast, you think it might not be so easy, after all.
Chan sinks inside you slowly, growling as he does. He squeezes your ass, your thigh circled tightly around his hip, but it’s not enough. Not for you, not for him. He needs more, he needs control.
“Jump on me, baby,” his voice is soft but the command is curt.
You lose contact for a split second as you slightly jump in his arms, the hardness of the wall digging into your back. The pain barely registers in your brain, as he slams into your cunt with fervor this time, the stretch incredible, his length hitting the deepest spots inside of you, so deep you feel him in your tummy. Your head drops on his shoulder, and you’re unable to control your moans, your very self, as skin hits skin, the sound filthy, sweat dripping from your forehead and staining his sweater, his hot breath on your cheek, whispering incredible things, words that will have you seeing stars—
You’re so fucking wet for me, baby girl, clenching around my dick so good, go on, take whatever you need, you know I got you, I’ll give it to you, love, let me see your face, let me see that pretty fucking mouth. Fuck, baby you’re so wet…
Your thighs hurt where he holds you, but your release is so close you couldn’t care less about bruises and soreness. You use his shoulders to sink down as he pistols up, the both of you entirely focused on getting off, sex in its most primitive form. You miss the eyes full of awe, of adoration, or more like, you ignore them. You won’t comment on the way he presses his mouth on the apple of your cheek, either, your name nothing but a ghost of a whisper on his tongue, a way of pushing himself forward, of bringing you to your climax.
“Come on, baby girl, give it to me. Give me a good one, milk my cock, that’s it, fuck, that’s my girl, such a good little slut, aren’t you?” He grunts on your skin, moving his lips to your ear, picking up the pace, tearing you from the inside out. “For me. Just for me.”
“Yes, yes…” you moan, and clench around him one last time, your body convulsing, vision blurry.
He chases after you, thrusts fast and precise, spilling around your tight walls, his load hot and sticky, and he wants nothing more than to—your legs touch the floor at once, as his hands grab your face aggressively, bringing you in for an open mouthed kiss, sweaty and breathy, mouths dry and searching, always searching for each other. You’d be lying if you said this didn’t mean more sometimes, somehow.
Sometimes it’s everything, it’s all that holds you down, that could hold, gravity meaningless pitted against Bang Chan and his warmth, the way he envelops you in his arms, the safest place in the world. As you play side by side, as you fight for the same cause. It’s easy and it’s familiar, and it’s home. As natural as breathing.
“Tell me you’ll keep your head straight,” he says seriously, looking down at you worriedly. “Minho is…” his dark eyes cloud over, “Don’t go making deals with the devil on me just yet, you hear me?”
You sigh into him and he shakes you gently, getting your eyes on his face again. “Please, (Y/N)?”
You nod, rubbing your wet thighs together, remembering you have a library date with a girl you left behind unexpectedly. What must she be thinking?
Oh, but who cares? This was so worth it.
“Okay. If it means that much to you, I won’t.”
“You promise?” He doesn’t let you go.
“Yes, Chan,” you say pointedly. “Jesus.”
He cleans you up with a quick spell, his hands raising your panties up your hips, touch lingering. You wiggle out of his grasp, giggling. He smirks, still crouching down as you open the closet door and walk away from him.
“Leave him out of this!” He calls out behind you.
“He’s your God, too,” you sing teasingly, making a run for the Great Hall.
The fourth Saturday of September, just before Hallowe’en, Gryffindor competes against Hufflepuff.
It’s a tough match, only for the incessant stormy weather that’s been building up, turning the field into a muddy mess, clouds hanging low for days, visibility incredibly poor. Practice had been good, but not great and flying conditions were, to say the least, not ideal, but the team has had to go through worse, and so they’d persevere as they always did, with a strategy set in place, everyone knowing exactly what they were supposed to do, instructed down to a T.
Bang Chan yelled for Jake to watch out as Yang Jeongin, a Fifth-Year Beater knocked one of the Bludgers his way, bat swinging, competitive smile on his pale face.
Jake momentarily lost control of his broom, cursing as he came down fast, holding on to the wooden stick for dear life.
Chan motioned for Changbin to go help him, as he pushed through the two Chasers standing in his way, Quaffle under his arm, heading straight for the opponent’s hoop. Thunder cracked as the ball went past the Keeper and into the big ring behind her, earning Gryffindor another point.
“Fuck yeah!”
The towers burst into applause and cheering, a small Second-Year boy announcing the success of his Houses’ team, praising the captain. Chan threw his fist in the air, basking in the attention and excitement of the crowd, Changbin and Jungkook flying close to clap his hand and back, as they flew past and back to their positions.
“Another great goal from captain Bang Chan! We’re counting eighty points, so far, to Hufflepuff’s sixty.”
The game had been in progress for two hours now, but the adrenaline rushing through Chan’s veins, his ego inflating, expanding over his team, his boys (and girl)—it meant everything. Tiredness was just a concept in front of all this; glory and winning, for an athlete, was greater than anything else. Nothing could come close, could compare. Perhaps, with the single exception of you bouncing on his cock, head thrown back, nails digging into his skin, absolutely beautiful in your vulnerability.
But the rain grew nastier, colder as the end was still nowhere in sight. You’d been searching through the heavy clouds for the Golden Snitch nonstop since the game had started, with not much luck. You’d encountered the opposing team's Seeker once or twice, but for the most part you were flying solo, half blind, while your team fought the good fight underneath you, compensating for your apparent bad seeking skills. You were frustrated, growing angrier by the minute with yourself for losing the small golden ball so fast. If only you could get one good glimpse of it…
“Losing your touch, (Y/L/N)?” Kim Sunoo teased, shouting over the rain as his broom whooshed behind you.
“Not a fucking chance,” you yelled back.
“C’mon, let’s fly above!”
One reason you enjoyed playing with Hufflepuff—this. The healthy competitiveness, the good spirit of the game, and a promised fun time, nothing less nothing more. It was such a stark contrast to Slytherin’s sinister, sneaky way of navigating through the game. And the injuries were considerably fewer, as well, the stakes never higher than necessary.
Above the storm, it was quiet. Peaceful. The both of you halted your brooms, stilling for a second, scanning the serene skies for the Snitch. Sunoo frowned, disappointed and embarrassed to go back down with empty hands, and you were too, determined to find the freaking thing and end this forsaken match—
There. On the horizon, much closer than it looked.
“Bye, Sun!” You laugh, as you rush towards your desired target, hand outstretched, so near you could feel it, taste it.
Victory.
“Hey!” You heard before you dipped in the clouds, the rain and clapping of thunder entering your ears once again. It did not matter.
You had a clear view of the ball, and you’d get it. No matter what.
“A missed shot from Sim Jaeyun, a shame for the Gryffindor team!”
Not for long, you thought as you willed your broom to fly faster, wiggling your fingers as if that would be any help to achieving your task, the Snitch teasing you with its whimsical moves. You were relentless, though, years of experience preparing you for its mood and difficulty to attain.
You really just had to go for it.
So, you did, Sunoo flying dangerously close, his own hand reaching. In your attempt to trap it in your palm, your broom tumbled and knocked you over. A scream tore from your throat, lightning flashing, as you almost lost control and fell off your trusted stick—if the Hufflepuff hadn’t helped you upright, his grip tight on your shoulder. Your heart beat fast, as your eyes went wide, head snapping his way.
“Thank you!”
The Fifth-Year smiled at you, his cheeks rosy and cute. “No problem. Go before I come for it.”
You nodded quickly, and parted a cloud appearing on the field waving your fist around. The crowd watched you fly to your teammates, the intensity of the rain calming down as if on cue, Chan the first to notice your arrival.
“It seems (Y/L/N) (Y/N) has caught the Golden Snitch!” Roars sounded off like sirens. “Gryffindor wins!”
The colors on the high towers then show yellow and red, proud and bright, even amidst the grayness, and you grin wide and content, as you come face to face with your best friend and captain. Your boyfriend, he would correct you.
He’s glowing, wet and exhausted, pearly whites showing. “That’s my fucking girl!” He barks, as the entire team erupts in celebratory song.
‘Come around and see
Gryffindor will win
With Bang Chan in our team
And (Y/N) as our Queen
Gryffindor shall win!’
The common room was rowdy, to say the least.
Seventh-Years had snuck alcohol in from The Three Broomsticks Inn apothecary, and were currently helping themselves and others to a few cups of it. The fire was lit, the walls rich in color, the music blasting and the portraits laughing and discussing their own years at Hogwarts, their historical wins against the other Houses and their parties that lasted until the early hours of the next day, charms keeping the voices and ruckus from echoing throughout the rest of the castle.
Bang Chan and Changbin were busy being obnoxiously loud and quite drunk in the middle of the room, many students gathering around them like true fans, asking the two make-believe celebrities of Gryffindor all sorts of questions they had absolutely no problem answering. Your boyfriend was sprawled over the leather couch, freshly showered, brown hair falling over his eyes in loose curls, as his most trusted friend occupied the armchair, a mug of firewhiskey filled to the brim, making his eyes glossy and his mood light.
You shook your head at them, chuckling softly as two younger girls approached you, congratulating you on today’s win. You thanked them politely, popping a few nuts in your mouth. You could never be them; the center of attention, the center of the universe, it felt like sometimes, but you were just as deserving of praise and honor as them. Being a Seeker was hard enough, but being held at the same standards as Bang Chan?
Impossible. You wondered how he did it, then reminded yourself that he was born for this. Fame, prestige. He loved it, lived for it, and had dedicated his entire life for it. It was second nature to him, but to you?
Oh, but it’d end soon enough. And then a whole other chapter would unravel itself for you to tread carefully through it. The rest of your life, your career, what you’ve been working so hard towards. Quidditch was a hobby, and a damn good one, but it wasn’t the end goal.
Chan finds your gaze and holds it, smiling suggestively your way, and winking. You smile back, lifting your cup to him. He beams, and your heart swells.
You loved him but this, whatever you two had, would end too. And none would be the wiser. You couldn’t call it a waste of time; after all, for what it was, it made sense. Plus the sex was incredible. But you couldn’t ignore the cold, hard truth—he’d leave for Australia, and you’d go into intensive training at the hospital, books and medicine being more than enough to fill your time. 
He’d ask you to go with him, and you’d get defensive and ruin your friendship. He’d get mad and you’d go months without communication, until finally you’d hear news of his dating another girl, someone that could keep up with him, and break your own heart ten times worse than before. It would play out exactly like this, because that’s the natural way of a relationship between an athlete and a bookworm. There’s no meeting halfway for them, there’s no meeting at all.
You notice a couple making out on the stairs going up to the dorms, a full table of Six-Years playing cards, and your team preparing for butterbeer pong, a tradition of yours at this point, introduced years ago by a muggleborn that established it as the game-to-play after a successful match. It was harmless enough.
Except for the fact that your captain was an incredibly competitive and stubborn man that took everything way too seriously.
“Round!” Changbin roars, as all the boys cuss and down shots of firewhiskey at once. “Fuck, that’s what I’m talking about.”
“One hell of a headache is waiting for you tomorrow, Bin,” you comment as you near the long table the game is about to take place on.
Chan is helping set the cups in order with his wand, Jungkook filling them with the appropriate amount of the beer concoction, the red of their wool sweaters in such contrast to their pale complexion.
“I’m a wizard, honey, I’ll make it go away before you can say Merlin’s full name.”
Everyone in close proximity clutched their chests, laughing at the burn. You raised your eyebrows daringly. Challenge accepted.
“Sure, though not a very good one, are you, honey?” You retorted mockingly.
“Well, shit, you got me there.”
The room burst in ‘ooh’s’ as someone lifted your arm, declaring you the winner of this little showdown. Chan chuckled, the side of his mouth lifting, admiring your proud face. He was next to you before you could even blink, taking you in his strong arms and crushing you against him, lips on your ear, breath warm, comforting.
“You’re trouble, you know that?”
You smirk, pulling away slightly. “The best kind.”
His hand snaking its way around the nape of your neck, he brings you in for a kiss. You could taste so many things on him, but you think his heart was the most rewarding of them all. Your foreheads touch, as everyone in the room fades away, light years away, the two of you holding gravity, and the fucking axis of the very earth in place.
Nothing mattered when you were with Bang Chan, and you were beginning to think that wasn’t such a good thing, after all.
“The only kind,” he swears. “The only one I want.”
The game starts with Eunwoo missing a clear shot, and paying the price for it. After him, Jungkook follows (three wins in a row before ultimately losing), a giddy Changbin nearly ending the game at once with his excellent performance, but not before knocking everything over as Jungkook tackled him for “cheating.”
“No one leaves until I have a fucking turn!” Chan barks, and the team scrambles to pick up the mess, setting the table for their leader.
The entire common room gathers with bated breath to watch their captain win against beer and plastic balls, and you can’t help but marvel at the way all seems to still for this man. He carried such power, such influence, and he was the nicest thing around. Always fair, loyal, a sweetheart to his friends, a general out on the field. You’d follow him to battle if it came down to it, as would literally every single person in this room.
It was very sudden, your need for oxygen. The air was stifling, everything moving in slow motion as Chan succeeded in putting the sixth ball in the glass cups. A new song is in the process of writing itself for your favorite boy, you sense it in your bones, in the way the people in the portraits haven’t said a word since he started playing.
History will include him in its thickest books. But you? If you stay with him, you’ll be nothing but a mention, an afterthought. ‘She was there, but he was bigger than life,’ and it’ll be true, but it will all be for him, and it wasn’t jealousy, nor envy—
It was confidence in knowing you deserved better. The best.
“Where are you going?” He asks, when you move away from his peripheral vision.
Heads snap towards the question, curious.
“I’ll be right back,” you announce, drowning. “Please don’t follow me,” you continue in a smaller voice, hoping he hears you.
And it must’ve been something in your stance, or your face, or your eyes, who fucking knows, because this time—
He doesn’t chase after you. He listens.
Your feet take you to the Great Entrance.
For what time it was, you expected no one else to be around, making it easier for you to break down and cry after a long, stressful day. You weren’t particularly keen on letting anyone in on the small fact that you were losing your entire mind over how hectic your life had become, and you certainly weren’t about to be reckless about being out of your dormitory after hours.
It was fairly simple to move around the castle at night, though, if one was careful enough. There was only one teacher patrolling the corridors and they were currently located on the other side of the staircase, giving you the go to make a run for it.
You’d also placed a silencing charm on you, for good measure, because you weren’t about to be the person that gave and took away points from their House all in one day.
You never counted on coming face to face with Lee Minho like this. He took notice of your nervous state, and it was then you noticed the pin on his robes. Head boy, you shut your eyes tightly, cursing yourself inwardly. Of course.
“I take it your midnight stroll didn’t go exactly as expected?” He comments sarcastically, but his tone is flat, and his perfectly shaped left eyebrow is raised.
He’s taller than you, not by much, and you guess the authority he holds also gives the illusion of height, multiple books hovering in mid air behind him. You guess he was making his way from the library to his last patrol of the night before resigning to the Slytherin dorms in the dungeons.
It really was just your luck bumping into him, wasn’t it? Especially after that one awkward evening a couple of weeks ago, his proposition still unanswered days and days after. Minho blinked twice at you, seeming to be waiting for your answer to his remark.
You snap out of it, biting your lip, and you see him follow the movement indifferently, your cheeks turning red under his intense stare. He doesn’t seem to pay your embarrassment any mind, though, as he deems you unworthy of his time and goes to pass right past you.
“You still haven’t told me,” you call out. He stops. Turns. You hesitate slightly, “The reason why you’re making an illegal potion.”
He muses your words for a second, turning them over in his mind. “Not so much illegal, as…frowned upon.”
Huh? “Well, what is it?” You press, taking a brave step forward towards him.
His beauty is unparalleled, only perhaps, and you do not say this lightly, second to that of Hwang Hyunjin’s, making it so incredibly hard for you to look at him straight on. His eyes are so big and glittery, looking as if they’ve swallowed entire stars in them, and his jawline is so sharp and sexy it feels like you’re cheating on Chan just by glancing his way. He looked immaculate, even at this late time, and you’d blame it on the pure blood thing, but Changbin was upstairs making a fucking fool of himself, ten different stains on his clothes, drunk beyond all reason at this point, you’d bet good money on it.
Not Minho. Never Minho.
“It’s dark magic, (Y/N),” he nears you slowly, taking his sweet time with a prey like you. “Necromancy.”
You looked at him, and looked again, just in case he was making some sort of sick, twisted Slytherin joke that you didn’t understand and were just another victim of. Dark humor is eclectic, yes, but harmless in the long run. Unfortunately, he wasn’t batting an eye to your reaction. If anything, he appeared to be…disappointed?
It was hard to tell through a million layers of frost.
“Dark magic is illegal, Minho,” you say and you feel like the dumbest person alive at that moment.
He stares at you like you are. “Many would disagree,” he retorts calmly. “All magic is the same to a wizard.”
You tilted your head, begging for him to be joking, and certainly not enjoying the glamoured jab at your blood. It was petty and so below who you perceived him to be, that you had to second guess the way he worded it in order to keep your sanity.
And your points.
“You want to raise the dead?” You whisper incredulously.
He smiles briefly at that, but his mask quickly falls back into place. “I’m offering you a chance to make one of the most difficult, intricate potions known in magic history. The craft is something that interests you, correct?”
You stutter, feeling like you’re being manipulated into something completely out of your comfort zone. Despite this knowledge, you can’t bring yourself to refuse.
“Yes, but I would very much like to stay out of Azkaban if I can help it.”
He considers you seriously, then. You almost think he’s gonna turn around and dismiss you, considering you unable to complete his task, but then he takes one step closer and gazes at you through thick eyelashes.
“I’m enchanting skeletons for Hallowe’en.”
You squint up at him. “You’re lying. You don’t need a potion for that.”
His lip twitches, and you think you see a ghost of another of those rare smiles. It’s gone too soon for you to tell. A purple strand of hair falls in his eye, and your fingers itch to touch it.
“Will you help me?” He chooses to ignore your statement.
“Now I’m helping you?” You challenge him, before you can stop yourself. “Where did all those other fancy words go?”
Minho drinks you in, every single one of your features being studied, before he pulls back, a breathy chuckle escaping his pretty mouth.
“I can see what he sees in you.”
“Don’t make this about him.”
There goes that infuriating eyebrow again. “Oh?”
You roll your eyes. “I’ll help you,” you repeat the, apparently, Slytherin taboo word. “If you tell me what I’m getting myself into.”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you see him lean towards you, his cheek touching the side of your face, a woody scent enveloping your senses. You’re unable to move, it seems, he has you under a complete spell—and it’s not the one you cast with a wand. I underestimated him, you think, panicking.
“A revolution, sweetheart,” his enchanting voice whispers in your ear. The castle stares back as your eyes glaze over with numbness. “Your name in history books. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
And it shouldn’t have taken you as long to figure out as it did, Chan’s words of caution ringing true in your head, because nothing could be clearer, really—
Lee Minho is a Ligilimens.
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tags. dedicated to @streetlight-s 🖤 | @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @koorminii, @hellishmoons, @lix-ables, @americanokisses, @j-0ne25, @danyxthirstae01, @she-wintersoldat, @fa3body, @letterstolilah, @exclusivej3ss, @seungschacco, @heeseung-lover686, @heetr, @arieslost, @skz317cb97.
NO REPOSTING/STEALING. hwan-g™️
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izels-writing · 3 months
Text
r. lupin — strange [1/2]
Pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
Summary: you meet remus lupin, who is different than you expected
Warnings: a little fast-paced, confident and blunt reader (?), awkward remus (?), that’s all tbh lmao
PART ONE, PART TWO
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you know the saying 'don't judge a book by its cover'? you hadn't ever taken it seriously. not really anyway. you never really judged people, but you assumed things about them just by appearance. usually, you happened to be right about people.
so, you never took the saying seriously, who cares? you surely didn't, because you were right almost all the time and it was like heaven to your ears being told so. you had formed your own opinions on everyone, and your own assumptions on everyone, thinking you were right.
that was, until you assumed things about remus lupin, who undoubtedly was the most attractive and brilliant boy in your year.
——
"come on, y/n! you've got to come to the game!" your best friend, y/f/n, groaned. you shook your head, taking another bite of your breakfast.
"too loud." you managed to say through your chewing.
"you're too loud with your obnoxious sleeping! you say things about beating up your grandma and hexing your cousin!" y/f/n exclaimed, rolling their eyes.
you huffed, swallowing your mouthful of food, and looked up at y/f/n. "fine, i'll go, as long as we root for gryffindor." you said. why gryffindor? just to fuck with y/f/n honestly.
y/f/n hesitated for a moment, before sighing loudly and nodding.
you grinned, finishing your breakfast in peace.
——
time of the game had arrived, and you were sitting in the stands, watching as the ravenclaw captain and gryffindor captain, james potter, shook hands. y/f/n sat next to you happily, marveling at the game about to commence in front of her.
you didn't really like coming to these games, because it reminded you that while you enjoyed quidditch, you weren't any good.
also, it was really loud.
"and the game begins!"
"more like my headache begins..." someone mumbled from your other side. you glanced at them, quickly realizing it was remus lupin, a boy in your year.
he was the notorious bookworm and sane prankster in his little mauraders gang. he was quiet and smart, but if needed, he could easily use it to his advantage. you could tell by the way he'd whisper things to james potter or sirius black. they'd use any information to get the better of anyone. but really, it's most of what he was. prankster, smart, bookworm, quiet, and good.
you chuckled, "yeah, same."
he smiled at you, before turning to the game in front of you. you did the same, resisting the urge to glance at him.
after a moment, he started speak again.
"so, which team are you rooting for?" he asked, his eyes following james potter, who was diving for the quaffle.
you were doing the same. "gryffindor. same as you, i suppose."
he nodded, "yeah." he chuckled.
james dove for the quaffle, but before he could reach it, the ravenclaw chaser threw it to another ravenclaw chaser. marlene was closer, and she dove for it, but james started to too.
"no! get near the keeper post!" you and remus shouted, which was directed at james, despite it being drowned out by the chatter and cheering everywhere else.
you turned to each other, smiling. "you're into quidditch?" you both asked. you laughed and nodded.
"yes, i am." you both synchronized again. he laughed, and shook his head slightly.
"wow, that was creepy." he remarked, glancing at the game for a moment. you nodded, laughing quietly.
"yeah...by the way," you said with a small smile, "i'm y/n. y/n l/n." you extended your hand politely.
he took it, shaking it politely. "remus lupin." he replied, smiling softly. you could've sworn your heart skipping a beat, but you being you, you ignored it.
"so, when did your obsession for quidditch start?" you asked, smiling at him. he thought for a moment.
"when i was around four or five." he replied, smiling back at you too. you nodded, taking in his words.
it was likely he liked the sport but wasn't any good or was unable to play.
"wow, mine started when i was actually introduced to the sport. which happened to be around eleven or twelve." you said.
he grinned at you, "you're a muggle-born?"
you nodded with a small smile, fearing he'd somehow make a rude remark. though, you knew he wouldn't, but it was weird...he was getting harder and harder to read.
"awesome! my mum's a muggle." he added, resting his gaze over the field. james was now throwing the quaffle to marlene. the seekers were zooming around. the beaters were doing their usual business.
"so, if you like the sport, why don't you play?" remus asked. you blushed a little but laughed quietly.
"because i'm absolutely horrid at it. no doubt that i'd fall off my broom if i tried to." you replied, shaking your head. remus chuckled.
"wait, so you've never actually played?"
"no, and i don't plan to."
——
"and gryffindor wins!"
the statement had almost flown past you and remus. the two of you were so into your conversation and getting to know each other, that it almost seemed that everything else was gone. it was only the two of you.
that was until y/f/n started screaming and cheering.
"oh! we won!" remus exclaimed. your eyes widen and you both shot up, cheering loudly. not that it was any difference to the rest of the stands, minus slytherin's and ravenclaws.
everyone quickly returned back to the castle, but a lot of students started toward the gryffindor common room, as they team had announced a party to celebrate. y/f/n being one of those who wanted to go, they was trying their best to convince you to go.
"please! please! please!" they pleaded, batting their eyes at you. you shook your head.
"what's this i see? a girl doesn't want to come to our party?" a teasing, male voice said. you and your friend took quick notice that it was sirius black, who was strutting toward you two. not only that, but potter, pettigrew, and remus were following quickly behind. you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw him.
"yeah, black! you've got to convince my poor friend to come! who knows how insane she'll get all alone?!" your friend said dramatically, causing a blush to grow on your face from embarrassment.
"wait, you're not coming?" remus asked, looking at you directly. you met his eyes, now noticing how warm and welcoming they were.
"well...no. i had enough noise for today." you said, chucking nervously. james and sirius scoffed.
"nonsense! c'mon, l/n, join us at the party. i'm sure an old soul like you can keep remus company." sirius joked, nudging remus. he got nudged back even harder.
"see, y/n! c'mon!" your friend begged. you went to object again.
until remus spoke.
"yeah, just join for a bit, y/n. like sirius said, you could keep me company. if it gets to be too much, i'll escort you back myself." remus suggested, "deal?"
you tried to hold back your smile, but seeing him smile proudly at himself for having come up with the best suggestion, it happened anyway. finally, you heaved a 'tired' sigh.
"deal." you replied, sticking out your hand, shaking his.
y/f/n, black, potter, and pettigrew all looked at you and remus in shock. but neither of you noticed. you were slightly focused on each other.
"alright! well, it's done then! c'mon moony, we've got things to do before they join us." james said, winking at both y/f/n and you. remus nodded, smiling at you one last time before disappearing with his friends.
y/f/n turned to you with a smirk, nudging you teasingly.
"so...remus huh?"
"shut up."
——
you were right. it was awfully loud. the only thing keeping you sane right now was drinking firewhiskey slowly. remus sat with you, taking notes from a book. why? you had no idea. how he worked in such noise? again, you had no idea.
"how are you doing that?" you demanded as nice as you could, gesturing to his note-taking. he chuckled and shook his head.
"when you dorm with sirius and james, nothing fazes you anymore." he replied, closing his book and turning to you. both of you were sitting on the couch, with you holding your cup in one hand, and the other arm resting on the top of the back rest. he was now facing you, grinning at you.
you laughed, "and that...does not surprise me. it's like dorming with me."
remus furrowed his eyebrows, "oh yeah? why's that?" he asked, taking your cup and taking a sip. you grinned, biting your lip in amusement.
"well, according to y/f/n, who is probably over there grinding with your mate black right now, i like to say things in my sleep. like beating up my grandma and hexing my cousin type of phrases." you confessed, giggling quietly.
truth be told, you were quite the assertive person.
remus let out a laugh, throwing his head back. you grinned even wider, feeling a sort of pride knowing you made remus lupin laugh.
"what've you got against your grandma?" remus asked. you shrugged, "who fucking knows. give me a sip?"
he brought the cup to your lips, tilting it upward so you could drink, before finally bring it back down. this had to be at least your second cup, but you were never exactly a lightweight.
"how are you so far? with all of," he gestured wildly around him, "this?"
you shrugged. "it could be worse. i'm just waiting for y/f/n to get tired so we can leave."
remus nodded, his face falling slightly. idiot! you thought, he probably thinks you don't want to be here with him!
"but being here with you, pretty much makes this whole situation even slightly tolerable." you said with a smile.
his happy demeanor quickly returned.
"so? how are the lovebirds?" james' teasing voice asked. you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and glared at james.
"oh!" james glanced down at the cup in remus' hand, "you're even sharing drinks. that's quite intimate! you are using protection, right?" he winked at remus.
"fuck off, prongs." remus huffed, making james' smirk grow.
"only joking, moons. say, y/n, accompany me to dance?" james asked, turning to you innocently.
remus shifted uncomfortably.
you glanced at him before looking back up at james. "nah. thanks though, potter. i'd definitely try your luck with lily though." you replied.
james smiled at you. a genuine, happy smile. one that you rarely saw on him unless he was with the mauraders or lily evans.
"don't mind if i do. take care of mooniekins for me, will you?" he said. you smiled lightly and nodded.
"of course, potter." you replied. remus smiled at you, though you hadn't noticed it.
james strutted off, toward a certain head over heels redhead.
"hey lupin?"
"yes?
"how's about we get out of here?" you suggested, winking at him. he smiled, "alright, l/n."
——
you two had walked down corridors together, talking about anything and everything. it was the sort of thing that happened once in a lifetime. when two people just...clicked.
you figured now would also be a good time to make connections. life-long ones perhaps. given that it was your seventh year and your only life-long friend was y/f/n.
"so, remind me again why your cousin thought it'd be a good idea to throw a plate at your head?" remus chuckled. you narrowed your eyes at the memory.
"because they're a bloody bitch. that's why." you grumbled. remus laughed and ruffled your hair, considering how much shorter you were compared to him.
finally, you stopped by a statue, spinning around to look at remus. he looked amused but stayed quiet.
"so, this is bold, but i feel like we've connected quite a bit." you said. he nodded, patting your shoulder awkwardly, "agreed."
yeah, he is definitely awkward when it comes to connections and feelings, you thought.
you took a step toward him. "well, you're interesting, 's all i wanted to say, i guess."
he smiled and looked down at you. you just now realized how close you were, feeling his breath on you.
this was definitely a different type of connection.
you both started to lean in, but then he stopped, and pulled back. you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, looking at him concerned. he fidgeted with his hands before finally meeting your eyes.
"i'll—i'll see you around." he mumbled, walking off quickly.
you stood there, frozen. you had almost kissed the boy you had connected with more than anyone you had ever met. he wanted to kiss you too, but he suddenly pulled back. you had tried to think of words to describe this. but their was only word you could think of clearly.
strange.
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
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moonyssmommyy · 8 months
Text
My Marauders Headcanons Pt. 1 ~ James Potter
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His full name is in fact James Fleamont Potter
His eyes are hazel but they're the really pretty blue-green kind
He laughs at his own jokes
His favorite color is unironically red
James was born really early in the morning
6:57 a.m. to be exact
James also likes to get up really early in the morning
He likes to start his days at 5:00 a.m.
Bro has really thick, slutty, muscular thighs
His love language is physical touch
James has big boobs <3
No but like he has really nice pecs
And REALLY nice biceps
Like omfg
Thank you quidditch
He made the Gryffindor Quidditch Team as a chaser in his 4th year
He played Seeker his 2nd and 3rd year
Stole the snitch his last game as seeker
Has a bunch of prank ideas in a book (Dear God, don't let McGonagall find it 🙏🏼)
Honestly likes being a chaser better but is always playing with the golden snitch bc he thinks it's cool
He low-key has lucky socks
James is an attention whore
He's a momma's boy
He's just like Fleamont was when he was younger
He's honestly quite emotional but won't really show it around most people
James fav candy is starbursts specifically the red ones
He also really likes Legos
James' fav thing about the muggle world is arcades
LOVES swimming
Monty taught him
Euphemia doesn't know how
James always feels like he's hot
His style is 80s heartthrob meets rich boy
James gets heat induced insomnia and if he doesn't get enough sleep he cries
Cries out of frustration
Prongs' antlers are curved
Gets flustered really easily although he is very charming and usually causes others to be flustered without meaning to
Spanish James!!!
His mother always says he's a 'true' Spaniard bc of his pale skin and blue eyes
James hates that he's not tan like his mom but doesn't realize he literally gets so dark during the summer
When he speaks Spanish Lord have mercy
Boy is allergic to shirts
Or at least you'd think
He's very touch sensitive?
Like if something doesn't feel right it will not go on his body
He's an extrovert but he hates loud noises, Remus thinks it's odd considering how loud James is
Not to mention his best friends are literally Sirius Black and Marlene Mckinnon
He has ADD, ADHD and Bipolar (I'm pretty sure ADD and ADHD are diagnosed as the same thing now)
Moral alignment is chaotic good
He has perfected the puppy dog eyes, and it's literally impossible for anyone to say no to him
James is a very affectionate person
He's really loyal and he's really protective
HE FUCKING LOVES MARY!
Marlene and Peter are his childhood best friends
Marlene and James have a matching pair of red converse
He's rich, and his parents spoil him, and yes he can be an arrogant dickwad but deep down under all his unsavory qualities he's a really sweet guy with a really big heart
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diana-bookfairchild · 11 months
Text
@hinnymicrofic May Day 21: Drunk
“Alright, Weasley?” Potter smirked at her. “Not too despairing, I hope? I won’t catch you if you faint.”
“Ha fucking ha, Potter,” Ginny snarled. “Just because your team got this shot doesn’t mean you’ll win. Wait and watch. We’ll be winning today.”
Potter smiled that absolutely infuriating smug smile of his. “You go on dreaming,” he said in a faux soothing voice. “But I have to go fly. And win.”
He flew seemingly erratically and dismantled her teammates’ formation with next to no effort.
Ginny gritted her teeth.
Harry Potter was a legend in quidditch. He’d been selected for his house team in his first year, led Ravenclaw to a victory several times, missed a catch only a handful of times and had been picked as reserve seeker straight out of school by the Pride of Portree before starting for the Ballycastle Bats.
The first time, Ginny had been excited to play him.
That had been before she’d realized what a Merlin damned asshole he was.
Well. Famous prodigy or not, she and her team would beat him and his.
Ginny seized the quaffle mid switch of the Bats’ Chasers. She passed it to Val who passed it back to her right in time and position to score. Fans roared and booed. She turned to Potter and made a violently rude gesture at him.
He only smirked back at her.
For some reason, that sent a shiver down her spine.
The next forty minutes were a deadly dance of taunting and dodging and scoring and flying. Ginny’s blood sang in the air. Flying brought a thrill to her she never got anywhere else, except for from Harry Potter’s scorching glares and mocking.
He seemed to delight in frustrating her. He was edging her, blocking her, ruining her plays ever other second. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was unnervingly concentrated on her, despite him always being an active seeker in all his matches.
A Bat scored again, and Potter did a loop-de-loop in celebration before shooting in a slanted line towards the centre of the pitch.
Ginny’s heart skipped a beat. The Snitch!
Potter was widely regarded as the best Seeker in the League. Melissa was good, but Ginny wasn’t being cruel when she thought she was no match for him. Their only hope was the score: which was currently two-ten to sixty in the Harpies’ favour.
If Potter caught the Snitch, they would lose.
Ginny dove down, and her stomach dropped and rose all at once at the terror and thrill and joy of the act. She buzzed the opposing chaser, nearly Blatched another, grabbed the quaffle and threw it at the hoops.
It was a long shot – but the keeper had been distracted by the Snitch chase and the quaffle sailed through the left hoop right as Potter’s fist closed around the Snitch.
The spectators roared. There was a great deal of confusion. But finally, the referee declared the Holyhead Harpies to be the winners.
Ginny whooped as she took her victory lap. Her eyes met Potter’s, and she tilted her head towards him cockily. His gaze was burning. Hate and, somehow, admiration. Ginny’s heart flipped unnaturally, and she ignored it as she sped towards her celebrating teammates.
She spent the next few hours at the Holyhead unofficial pub, getting congratulated and mobbed by fans and drunk with her teammates. Vision blurring a little – she’d perhaps had one drink too many – she flooed to the nearest public floo point to her apartment.
Her head spun as she walked back home, dazed and drunk on joy and alcohol.
“Weasley,” came a slurred voice. “If it isn’t the bloody heroine of the hour.”
Ginny turned. If she was drunk, Harry Potter was completely plastered. His hair was more of a rat’s nest than usual, his features were slack, but his green eyes were as blazing as ever.
“Potter. Why, here to expend your Loser’s Lurgy?” She instantly regretted referring to one of Luna’s wild stories. To her surprise, Potter just barked a laugh.
“You’re friends with Luna too, huh?” She stared. Why the hell had she never told Ginny Luna was friends with Quidditch Star Harry Potter? “Nothing like that. Mates an’ me got drunk, and Dad and Mum and Sirius will never let me hear the end of it if I go to them, and Hermione would kill me for drinking dangerously. And Nev’s out of town. So just. . . Wandering ‘round.”
In one sentence Potter had told her more than she ever wanted to know about his life.
“Like I wanted to know, Potter,” she jeered. She turned to go.
“You asked, Weasley.” Came his teasing voice. Ginny pressed her eyes shut furiously. She supposed she had. “Not going to bitch or gloat about your win?”
“Me, gloat?” Ginny’s voice was taut as she went and pressed her finger to his chest. He just smiled at her, giving her that damned smugly superior look she hated. “Says Harry Potter, the sorest winner in the whole world!”
Potter laughed incredulously. “Coming from Ginevra Weasley, the most morally superior too good for everyone player?”
“The worst—”
“Bloody crazy and arrogant—”
“Infuriating asshole—”
“Self-righteous shrew with attitude problems—”
“Smirking like the bloody devil himself, why are you so—” Ginny breathed heavily. “So incredibly good at quidditch—”
“And why are you so. . . .” Potter’s voice dropped to a ragged whisper. “So. . . so fucking pretty?”
Their eyes met. And the next moment, they were kissing.
Potter kissed like a storm. He kissed her like she was the last thing left on earth. He kissed her like she was water in a desert.
Gasping, they tore away from each other as someone called at them to get a room.
This was a terrible idea.
Her brothers would encourage it, which was a warning all in itself. Her parents would be very sternly horrified. They were on opposite teams, facing in the league.
She didn’t care.
He was a drug she wanted to get high, delirious, drunk on.
This was a terrible idea.
“My apartment’s that way,” she said.
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seriouslysam8 · 11 months
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Brumous Sneak Peek!
Okay, first two hot takes.
This is unedited so there's that.
My weekend is amazingly busy this weekend. All fun stuff though. Nothing crazy. I will update on Sunday, but it's not going to be until LATE my time. Like, I'm talking at night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Gaunt Family
“Harry!” Niamh said in an excited voice as she dug through her satchel. “I got my essay back! Look!”
She slapped the parchment down between them. Harry peered down at the parchment to see she had received an EE at the top of the paper with very minimal red marks throughout the essay. Niamh beamed at him. 
“I’ve never gotten anything above an Acceptable from Snape!” Niamh explained as she pointed down to Snape’s cramped writing. “He even praised me! Look, it says, ‘Interesting and thorough explanation.’ I don’t think he’s ever said anything nice to me before!”
Harry smiled. “That’s great, Niamh. I’m glad I could help.”
“You were a lifesaver, Harry!” Niamh exclaimed, bouncing in her chair. “If you weren’t dating Ginny, I would kiss you!”
Harry stared at Niamh while Ginny chuckled next to him, her hand pressing on his thigh.
Gemma squinted, leaning forward to look at the parchment. “You don’t reckon he’s been replaced by a lookalike or something, do you?”
Demelza laughed. “It’s good analysis! He can’t even deny that. It’s a fucking joke that he only gave you an Exceeds. I mean, that was O worthy! I read it myself.”
“He’s a prick,” Ginny concluded. “It was O worthy.”
Harry couldn’t deny that. Snape had all but ignored Harry in class, knowing he couldn't humiliate him with questions any more since he was top of his year at Defense. Harry didn’t offer to participate, continuing his philosophy from Umbridge’s class to sit down and shut up during class. It had worked out marvelous so far.
“Oi, Harry, are you ready for tryouts on Saturday?” Demelza asked.
Harry glanced over at her. “The real question is, are you?” 
Demelza laughed. “I’ll blow your bloody robes off and leave you naked on the pitch.”
Ginny let out a loud laugh, earning her several glares. Harry shifted in his chair.
“Oh, I guess I’ll have to sit and watch tryouts then,” Gemma said in a lazy tone, her lips curving. “Don’t let that get out, Demelza, or else I won’t get a good seat to the show.”
Niamh shot Demelza a look. “Demelza, Harry is for Ginny’s eyes only! You can’t just poof his clothes into existence!”
“I’m sorry I’m that good at Quidditch,” Demelza replied. “I’ve been doing drills for bloody years, waiting for this moment.”
“You do know that I have to pick who the best players are, right?” Harry explained.
While he liked Demelza and knew Ginny would love to play alongside her, he was captain. He couldn’t just pick friends or people he liked for the team. He had to pick the right people for the team.
Demelza waved him off. “Yes, I know, and I’m not worried about that. Ginny and Katie are shoe-ins. I’m confident that I could beat every other person who has already signed up for Chaser.”
“Your confidence astounds me, Dem,” Niamh commented, her brows tugging down. “Tell me, where do I get confidence like that? I want some. Even a fourth of the confidence you have! That’s all. Don’t be greedy, just share a tad.”
Demelza plucked something off her skin and blew it in Niamh direction. She caught, well, nothing before she thanked Demelza. Harry only sucked in a breath, turning his attention to Ginny.
“Hey, are you almost done for the night?” Harry asked in a soft voice.
Ginny shrugged. “Depends on what you had in mind.”
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I saw the hp thingy you posted for Wenclair and now i wanna know your hc for the whole Nevermore kids :p
I'm so sorry this has been sitting for a few days, I'm stupid and it took me a HOT minute to realize hp is Harry Potter (at least I hope it is cause I'm answering it as such) Also, these are just my own opinions and of course everyone is entitled to their own thoughts! I believe that most of these characters fit into multiple houses! Also, I'll add if they would play Quidditch or not.
Wednesday: I think a good majority of the fandom would put her in Slytherin and I would agree! However, I do headcanon that she wants to be in Ravenclaw and well, the Sorting Hat had other plans. I also find it funny to think about Wednesday getting placed into Ravenclaw and just being a fucking menace. She was BANNED from Quidditch but with some...convincing she was placed back on the team BUT with the promise that she is NOT allowed to be a Beater, so she becomes the Seeker.
Enid: I almost wanted to place her in Gryffindor, but her whole scene with Wednesday and saying "that's what friends do" and how much she values friendship and togetherness just made me convinced for Hufflepuff. Also, all Hufflepuffs are secretly FERAL and I stand by that. And I also love Slytherin/Hufflepuff relationships. She played for like a year, but was off-put when she broke a nail. She would rather cheer her girlfriend on. Also super cute image to see Enid wearing a Slytherin jersey for Wednesday.
Bianca: I'm so torn between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, just like Wednesday. But at the end of the day, Bianca is also a Slytherin. I mean COME ON. My girl went and made her own life for herself and reached her goals, basically poisoned Yoko to win a cup, and has a million walls up so no one sees her vulnerable. Slytherin. I also like the idea that her and Wednesday go rounds trying to be the top student. Captain of the Slytherin team obviously. She is the best Keeper to ever live.
Eugene: the biggest Hufflepuff to exist. Like I don't need any explanation. I would say that he has avoided Quidditch because he thought he wouldn't be any good, then during his last year he tries it out and turns out, he's a decent Seeker!
Yoko: I need fucking CHARACTERISTICS, MY GIRL DESERVED MORE SCREEN TIME...anyway, for now I want her in Ravenclaw. She would be a witch in the au so no vampire, but I would like to think she's super fucking wise and almost like she's lived for centuries. It also be funny to see Yoko just naturally super smart and it irks Wednesday to no end cause "what do you mean you learned how to do open heart surgery over the weekend?!?" Nah, she ain't down for Quidditch. Just like Enid, she would rather cheer on her own girlfriend than play.
Ajax: Hufflepuff. It's shown in the show that he seems to be loyal to his friends and he just has a very happy-go-lucky vibe about him. I also adore a good platonic Enid/Ajax, so they be the absolute chaotic/idiotic bestie duo that has all of the Hufflepuffs STRESSED. He was also BANNED. Not because of anything violent, but his antics were just too much.
Divina: Again, MY GIRL NEEDS SCREEN TIME. The most we see from her is really just going along with Bianca and being gay with Yoko. That being said, I would like to have her in Gryffindor. Mostly because of Ravenclaw/Gryffindor dynamics. Love the idea of Yoko just trying to chill in the common rooms and her girlfriend is just bouncing off the walls cause "THIS IS SO BORING, I NEED TO FIGHT GOD." Gryffindor Captain. She's a bit of a utility player, mostly does Chaser and Beater.
Kent: My boy also needs more screen time. I want the twins together and I would have them give off Weasley Twin vibes, so Gryffindor as well. I believe that Divina is his impulse control, however where Divina will say she's bored and needs to fight God, Kent will do it without telling ANYONE. He's the reason Gryffindor loses house points consistently. Obviously, he plays. He's a Beater and when the Twins are both the Beaters, absolute chaos during that game.
Tyler: Azkaban. Death penalty. He would only be a monster that Enid beats the fuck out of.
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hallie/gideon + hair brushing/braiding + marriage of convenience!
You know those fics about like marrying to maintain pure blood households? Som that’s this kindasorta. We know the Weasley’s are hella against pure blood politics. But they can't change a vow that was made by Cedrella when she *defected* from the Black family.
Her firstborn son was supposed to marry a Malfoy but he didn't, so then it was to be Arthur's first son but you guessed it! Arthur and Molly had six girls and thought that the vow/contract would eventually become null and void.
Hallie and Gideon are the best of friends. Having gotten over his extremely embarrassing crush on Hallie and the Family Who Lived, they get really close because James helps Gideon with Chaser moves and Hallie knows Gideon means well -- Rowan's her best friend too. The Weasley's are good people.
Gideon grew his hair out long like his sisters (he's basically got Bill's long hair and he wants an earring but he knows his mum will go ballistic. Maybe when he gets signed with a quidditch team, maybe not.) Hallie loves to braid and brush Gideon's hair while he's reading in the evenings. It's been a bit of a problem with some of his girlfriends but it's just something they'll have to get over. Right?
It's near the end of Gideon's fifth year when he receives a letter from home letting him know that he's betrothed to Cassiopeia "Cassie" Malfoy and is expected to marry within a year of graduating from Hogwarts.
Gideon is pissed but determined to live his life to the fullest and purposefully dates Diane longer than he probably should have just to keep Cassie at bay. Diane and Gideon break up at the end of his sixth year and Gideon is still trying to not think about the fact he's somehow been forced into this archaic contract to maintain blood purity.
Hallie feels at a loss. Unsure of how to help her friend and James doesn't have anything helpful to contribute. Sirius keeps joking that she should just marry Gideon instead so that it would keep the contract null.
There's probably a huge kiss somewhere in here.
Gideon is the one to bring up marriage to her when he's home for the winter holidays. Hallie says fuck it because honestly? She's had feelings for Gideon since halfway through her sixth year.
In the eleventh hour, Hector figures out how to keep the contract from affecting any future Weasley boys.
And Hallie and Gideon lived happily ever after, braiding/brushing each others hair every Sunday evening.
Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.
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blouisparadise · 9 months
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Upon request, today we have the fourth part to our enemies to lovers rec list! You can also find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists and would like us to continue making them, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word! Happy reading.
1) Say My Name And Everything Just Stops | Explicit | 5,089 words
Harry and Louis are enemies and their friends leave them behind on a camping trip to sort out their differences. In a short amount of time, they do.
2) It’s Hard To Fight Naked | Explicit | 11,189 words
Prompt 6: Louis and Harry are roommates, but they cannot stand each other. When Harry heard Louis moan his name while Louis was riding a dildo in Harry’s room (Louis thought he was alone at home), Harry couldn’t stop himself and so he ended up fucking Louis against the mattress. Happy ending!
3) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18,088 words
Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone. One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts. Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts. Three: They do not get along. So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.
4) Uncomfortable Truths | Explicit | 18,125 words
Louis (a sophisticated asshole with a god complex, according to Zayn) is confident, bored out of his mind and in a desperate need of a challenge. Harry moves back to the city, ready to provide him one. Things go sideways. Obviously.
5) Angel Of Small Death And The Murder Scene | Explicit | 20,634 words
Ever since Louis read about the new up and coming Detective in town, he had immediately disliked the man, despite never having met him. So, naturally, it can only be the worst thing that could have happened to Louis when he gets stuck with Detective Styles trying to solve a murder during his supposed to be relaxing vacation over the seas.
6) Manners And Misjudgements | Explicit | 21,178 words
“Everyone you mention the Duke to raves about him, just like you are defending him now. But no one looks behind the façade he so ably maintains to deceive you all.” Liam sighs deeply. “You sound like a crazy man right now, Louis.” “I will prove to you who the Duke really is, just wait.”
7) Help Me, Help You Find Love | Explicit | 23,789 words
The one where they all attend a university for supernaturals and Werewolf Frat president and resident heartthrob Harry approaches on campus matchmaker Louis to help him find love.
8) Strong Enough To Get Us Wrong | Explicit | 24,289 words
Omega Louis have always considered the soulmate etching on his left thigh to be a curse. It takes a world tour, the bustling city of Tokyo, a hike to see Mt. Fuji, some hidden feelings, sea urchin sushi and the alpha he hates most in the world to change him.
9) Like It’s A Game | Explicit | 32,223 words | Sequel
There is little Harry hates more than truth or dare. And Louis.
10) Spoonful Of Sugar | Explicit | 42,900 words
Note: We'd recommend reading the prequel to this fic first.
Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.
11) From Dust To Lust | Explicit | 45,437 words
From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind. It’s funny how things work out.
12) Catch Me If I Fall | Explicit | 47,099 words
Lovers when on the stage but bitter rivals as soon as they step off, Harry and Louis have butted heads from the moment they first met. Locked in a stalemate that they hope to ride out until graduation, things take a turn when Harry learns that Louis is hiding a secret.
13) Hold Me How the Deep Night Has | Explicit | 48,018 words
Louis Tomlinson needs a change. Stuck in a cycle of going to the job he hates, spending time with his friends, and avoiding the one man he hates most in this world, Louis' in desperate need of something new. So when he discovers an abandoned notebook on the way to work, the decision is easy to take it for himself and begin a journal amidst the empty pages. What can't be expected are the words that appear overnight directly beside his own, written on the same day 400 years in the past. What are the consequences of a magical connection between two men of different centuries? And who, among it all, is the mysterious E who only exists on the other side of Louis' journal?
14) Falling Without Caution | Explicit | 50,350 words
Louis Tomlinson, a wanted criminal, was captured by the FBI after years of chasing. Instead of being locked up in a high-security prison, he was offered a deal. What was supposed to be the end of a decade long chase turned into a morally grey circumstance for Agent Styles.
15) A Place With Skeletons | Explicit | 50,765 words
“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here. Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.”
16) We Are But Dust and Shadows | Explicit | 51,468 words
Louis is part of a well respected Shadowhunter family, and Harry is the Mundane turned Shadowhunter who just can’t seem to get it right.
17) Lunar Waltz | Explicit | 56,795 words
Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.
18) The Luna of Which Pack? | Mature | 72,696 words
When Harry's wolves accidentally kidnap the intended Luna of Simon Cowell's pack, he must decide what to do with the irritating omega that does not want to return home. With the elders disagreeing with the new ‘naive’ pack alpha Styles, a war erupts due to his opposed decisions. And Louis finds himself right in the middle of it.
19) Echoes & Omens | Mature | 100,707 words
Echoes of the dead come in many forms. Their imprints forever tied to the ones who'd killed them. Louis Tomlinson is able to track the dead using their echoes, they call to him. He's used that gift to aid Scotland Yard in their investigations, with the hopes of studying Criminology at Cambridge University. He's lived a life of privilege and good fortune as a Marquess, son of the late Duke Tomlinson, with his life mapped out since day one. Until two terrible truths are revealed. One, he's adopted. Two, his biological parents are London's most notorious serial killers. Against his family's wishes, Louis travels to Chicago to uncover the truth of their incarceration. Much to his dismay, his biological mother's Lawyer, Harry Styles, wants to take his case. Together, they work to uncover what really happened all those years ago, but perhaps more is revealed than they could've ever anticipated. Trapped in a whirlwind of portents and omens, Louis and Harry find themselves pitted against an enemy they'd not foreseen.
20) Where I Burn To Be | Explicit | 143,346 words
There were very few people who managed to get under Louis’ skin as effortlessly as Harry had, and even fewer who had done it in only a day and a half. It was quite an accomplishment, really. They’d only interacted a handful of times and yet Louis had the insatiable desire to slam the locker into that frustratingly well-defined face that never seemed to hold any expressions other than contempt and arrogance. “That’s right. I do own the skies. And you wanna know why?” he sneered. Without his boots on, Louis was a fair bit shorter than Harry, his eyes pretty much level with Harry’s chin and his socked toes bumping into the boots of the other man, close enough that Louis could make out the tiny scar on Harry’s brow and the individual shades of emerald in his irises. He was handsome, but that only made Louis hate him more. Heart thumping heavily against his sternum and his hands balled into fists, Louis lifted his chin defiantly and plastered a coldhearted smirk across his lips. “Because I’m the best goddamn pilot here.”
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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allycat75 · 3 months
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We see you and your handlers, Boston Dumb Fuck (probably more your handlers).
We have been noticing anons coming to various blogs with a couple of sets of storylines- either "what type of girl/woman would you be happy for Chris to be with?" and "I think he is an awful person and the worst actor in the world and he ruined Steve Rogers".
I am not one for conspiracy theories, but I have been here long enough to notice patterns. We just saw it with the anons asking "what would it take to believe it isn't PR". When the consensus was more organic sightings, we got the photoshopped GG party pics and mentions (by the way, I can't remember the blog, but thanks for finding the 2020 pre-Golden Globe party pics- blue blazer, rust turtleneck- which are clearly the original images, at least for you BDF, and probably why Vogue took it down). And of course we got the oh so romantic group date, with Gully overacting to highten the importance, all leading up to the "natural" double chicken peck with the mouth wipe dismount. I think we are still waiting on the score from the Russian judge, but you have strong odds to medal in the Pathetic Olympic Games. However, you will not be allowed at Whole Foods because scientific analysis came back and it was determined you are too manufactured and modified to be considered organic.
So now to the new intell gathering. One is seemingly to gauge how far gone we are as a fandom, perhaps? Maybe would we even welcome you back as Captain America? General feedback is that there is talent in you, BDF (not for the wifey, she is hopeless) but here is an odd concept- maybe you need to work at it, instead of planning and executing these stupid stunts that make you look like a fucking joke. Have some humility that you are not magnificent and take some acting classes, and probably engage in some intense therapy because whatever is blocking you in your personal life is blocking you in your professional life. And remember, Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie is Captain America. Whether he succeeds or fails, you don't need to come back and look like the White Savior. Also, it would just be sad, like the guy who keeps visiting his high school long after graduating (and we all know why that isn't a good look for you, either).
As for whether another 26 year old would look good on your arm, if only she weren't an arrogant, childish, manipulative, racist, antisemetic, fatshaming clout chaser, my question is why does it matter what we think? If you and your team are thinking of "recasting", don't! Just cancel the show! You are not a character. Your life is not a script that needs tweaking. You should never do this type of arrangement again-EVER!
And as for your next "real" relationship, that isn't for us to decide. What I will say is that you need to get your shit together and be good to yourself or you won't be good for anyone else. This situation exposed how damaged you are by agreeing to it in the first place, with so little guardrails, and caused even more damage by exposing how much of your personality and character was built on matchsticks. There is so much to repair and build back stronger before you should even think about a partner right now. But a little tip- once you are ready, it is no one's goddamn business but the two of yours what you do and how you make each other happy. Hold it precious and don't stop learning and growing.
And finally BDF, fire your entire team- agents, publicists, stylists,... Start with fresh ideas. Even if they have been kind to you and don't have ill-intent, they have gotten you into a rut that you desperately need to be forced out of. Especially if their only solution to get you more work as an actor is to see which Netflix Chick they can whore you out to, they do not have your best interests in mind.
Also, this is just another example of where the fandom has been used and abused for emotional manipulation and free labor, so keep that in mind as you begin to balance the karmic scales again. We haven't forgotten.
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