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dreamcubed · 7 months ago

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you need to calm down | theodore nott x reader

song; you need to calm down [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!muggle-born!reader genre; e2l, smut, angst word count; 5,9k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, implied drug consumption, hook-up, drunk sex, piv, oral sex (male and female receiving), discrimination (muggle-borns), smoking, violence, blood, mentions of the war, arguments, yelling summary; after returning to hogwarts for a subsidiary 8th year to make up for the loss of 7th year due to the war, you are a completely different person, and muggle-born-hating theo finds himself obsessed with you

masterlist

"stressing and obsessing about somebody else is no fun."

MINORS DNI!!! 18+ content.

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In the time that the Second Wizarding War had been going on, you had been absent from Hogwarts, attending a muggle school under a fake name. Also in that time, you had changed significantly, partially to help your cover, but also because you had made muggle friends with similar styles and decided that you loved it. There were no uniforms at muggle college, so you were able to explore. These days you loved having black hair, having both your septum and nose pierced, and dressing almost entirely in black.

Your witch friends hadn't recognised you when you showed up at the Summer party you had received an invite to, after Voldemort was defeated and you were able to come out of hiding. The party you were attending was for seventh and eighth years— eighth year being introduced as a subsidiary for the education lost last year. Even most of those who had attended seventh year elected to return, as the final exams had never taken place, and what they had learned had been heavily rooted in the dark arts.

The party was booming, the walls of the massive house shaking with the sound of the music. You had consumed your fair share of alcohol, amongst other things, and had enjoyed catching up with everyone you had missed so dearly.

And that was when you saw him watching you.

Theodore Nott, a Slytherin boy in your year, who was from a wealthy pure-blooded family. A cigarette hung from his lips, and the smoke billowing around him sent a shiver up your spine. He was a sexy man, personality aside, and intoxicated you conveniently forgot about his attitude towards muggle-borns. Fuck, maybe he had changed?

He started approaching you, eyes raking up and down your accentuated figure, and he lingered a while on your fishnets. When he was close enough to talk, he said a simple statement, "I've never seen you before."

Theodore Nott hadn't changed. Not one bit. While he had never wished death upon muggle-borns like Voldemort, he had despised them— viewed them as lesser than he. He had seen you, laughing with your friends and seductively moving your hips, and assumed you were from the year below. You knew in that moment that he didn't recognise muggle-born goody-two-shoes Y/N L/N.

But, you were too drunk to ignore the red flags.

"No?" you murmured, "What are your first thoughts?"

He smirked, "I think I'm in for a very interesting night."

You chuckled, "I'll say."

His hands found your hips, and he began swaying with you to the music, which made you move your body closer to his. Even in the warmth of the room, the heat of his body hit you like an electric spark, coursing through you— straight to your core.

He moved even closer, his hot breath fanning against your neck as his hands moved round to your back. Then he lifted his head, his lips close to yours, and you let your eyes flutter shut as the kiss began. It was passionate: a hazy, powerful passion that had every hair on your body standing on end. His hands lowered to your ass, and squeezed, bringing a gasp from your lips, which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

All of a sudden, he pulled away, only to whisper in your ear, "Wanna find somewhere more private?"

"Lead the way," you said breathlessly, and he took your hand in his.

Neither of you knew whose bedroom you had ended up in, but it was empty and had a lock on the door, so it was ideal. Sure, a little unlocking charm could get someone in, but hopefully they would realise what was going on inside if the door was locked.

Theo wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours again, pushing you back until you fell on to the bed, pulling him with you. He moved down to your neck, kissing and sucking in a manner that would definitely leave hickeys, before he returned to your lips. You tugged at his shirt, and he let you pull it over his head, revealing a toned chest and arms that had you drooling.

He smirked at your loss of composure and beckoned towards your shirt, "Your turn, miss."

This time, you smirked, and held up your arms to allow him to remove your upper body clothing. First your tight black mesh top, and then your bra, freeing your boobs for him to gaze at. "Look who's drooling now."

Your statement made him snap out of his shock: clearly the sight of your nipple piercings had been a new experience for him. He attacked your lips with a new fervour, then moved down to suck on your nipple and its barbell. Gasps escaped you at the sensation, and you arched your back up instinctively.

"You're so sexy," he stopped for breath, complimenting you, "How have I never seen you before?"

Your breath hitched, and for a moment the reality of the situation came back to you. Just as quickly, though, it left again, as he began work on your other nipple. It was a wonderful feeling, but you needed more, so you pushed him over until you were on top and began unbuckling his trousers.

His dick was big and thick, and you could tell by the glint in his eyes as he looked down at you that he knew and was proud. You shook your head, bringing your lips to the tip and pressing a gentle kiss. Your teasing didn't last for long, however, as you soon gave into the urge to take it into your mouth. He groaned deliciously in response, and you took that as your cue to lick a strip up the side as you began fondling his balls.

"Just like that, baby," he moaned, making you realise he hadn't even asked for your name.

You took him in your mouth again, this time going as far down as your throat would allow, feeling the urge to gag building up in you. His louder groans made the effort worth it, though, as you deepthroated him. Pulling away for breath, you looked up at him with doe eyes and said, "If I'm sucking your dick, you might as well eat me out." And with that, you pulled your tights and panties down, leaving only your skirt on, before sitting on his face assertively.

The action made him groan more, and you leaned down to continue work on his dick as you felt him find your clit almost immediately. His tongue ministrations had you moaning around his dick, making you begin grinding on his face out of reflex. If you weren't drunk, you wouldn't be nearly this shameless and forward.

To his credit, he ate you out like a man starved, and it wasn't long before the pleasure became so much you had to give up on his dick and give in to the sensation.

"Fuck, Theo, I'm gonna come," you moaned, and his movements only got quicker, until you felt your core tighten and then release. Your body convulsed as he rode you through the high.

Eventually, you got off his face.

"D'you have condoms?" you asked, knowing he hadn't yet finished and also that you weren't yet satisfied.

"Always." He reached for his trousers over the side of the bed and pulled a condom out of his wallet.

You took it from him, tearing the packet with your teeth whilst making eye contact, and carefully sheathing his dick. His breath hitched once you were done: the only warning you got before he got up and pushed you down on to all fours, lining himself up behind you. The push in wasn't difficult, since you were quite well prepared, but it was still sensationally tight for him.

"Fuck, baby," he grunted, pushing in the last couple inches, "You feel so fuckin' good. So wet for me."

In reply, you moaned, and he took that as his cue to begin moving.

He pushed up your skirt to slap your ass, leaving a red imprint on your cheek, before gripping your hips and picking up the pace. You became a mess beneath him, even more so when one of his hands snuck around to begin rubbing circles on your clit. The bedsheets were crumpled in your hands with how tight you were gripping them, but Theo didn't stop.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna-" he cut himself off with a grunt.

"Me too," you squeaked out.

"Come with me." The assertive way in which he said it had you falling apart yet again, and by the way his movements were becoming sloppy, you could guess that he was too. When he then collapsed next to you, you knew that your guess had been correct.

Turning to lay on your back, you let out a content sigh.

"You know my name," he said.

You chuckled breathlessly.

"Who are you?"

You shrugged, deciding that you had given yourself enough time to regain your composure and getting up off the bed to clothe yourself. "You'll see," you said as you pulled your final clothing item back on.

And, with that concluding comment, you left Theo speechless on a random bed of the host's house.

***

You told no one of that night, deciding that you didn't need to hear your friends say what a stupid idea it was for you as a muggle-born to fuck a pure-blood supremacist. You already knew that yourself, but that didn't stop you from dreaming about how his tongue felt against your pussy, or how his hands felt on your body. Merlin, it was the best sex that you had ever had, and it just had to be with someone who would never want you again after finding out the truth.

It was on the train to Hogwarts that you saw him next. Despite how excited you were to return to the castle after over a year, the anxiety of your next meeting with Theo had been consuming you. And, in a lit up train in your classic school uniform, you were a lot more recognisable than in the dark in your own clothes. Especially considering you were with your friend group.

You stared at him as he stood in the doorway of you and your friends' compartment, with Mattheo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire stood behind him. They were likely on the hunt for some younger years to belittle.

"Well, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes has certainly changed a lot, hasn't she?" Riddle chuckled from behind Theo, who was simply staring at you with widened eyes and a clenched jaw.

"Theo? Mate? You alright?" Berkshire asked, snapping his friend out of his daze.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," he said dismissively, "Let's go."

His friends appeared confused, but didn't question it.

Your friends, however, did.

"What the fuck was up with that?" your best friend, Elena, asked, "Is the man scared of a couple piercings or something?"

She didn't even know what she was saying when she said that, you thought to yourself, thinking back to his reaction to your nipple piercings. You simply shrugged at her, "He just hates to see a muggle-born succeed."

Everyone agreed with hums, and the conversation shifted to other subjects.

***

Theodore Nott had spent the last two weeks of Summer wondering what the fuck the mysterious girl he fucked at a party meant by, "You'll see," and then following that up with a wank using memories of you. But, in that moment, stood in front of you on the Hogwarts Express, where you were in better lighting and more recognisable attire, he felt the world crash down around him.

How had he fucked a mudblood? The one thing that was ingrained into his brain since childhood to never do? Ever? The worst part is, he hadn't just liked the sex, he had loved it. He had already had numerous wet dreams about your lips and your boobs and your ass. And now? Now he had to push all of that aside because he couldn't ever fuck you again.

He just couldn't.

"Theo- Earth to Theo," the voice of Lorenzo next to him brought him from his thoughts.

"What?" he snapped back.

"What's got you so worked up?"

Mattheo chuckled, "Can't you see him staring at mudblood L/N? I can't tell if you wanna kill her or fuck her."

That statement earned Mattheo a glare from Theo.

"Maybe both?" Lorenzo suggested, making them both laugh.

"Who was it again that you hooked up with at the party?" Mattheo asked before shovelling food into his mouth.

"He didn't say, remember? Said she never told him her name."

"It doesn't matter," Theo spat.

Lorenzo and Mattheo exchanged looks as realisation dawned on them, and they both slowly turned to Theo who was still glaring daggers in your direction.

"No, you didn't..." Mattheo said first.

Theo said nothing.

"You fucked a mudblood," Lorenzo stated, finishing Mattheo's thought.

"You didn't realise it was L/N," Mattheo continued.

"She'd changed a lot, okay?" Theo said angrily, "I thought she was from the year below or something."

His two friends began howling with laughter, meanwhile Theo sat brooding in silence at the Slytherin table.

***

Saturday rolled around, and you were relieved to be able to shed the school uniform and tug on your clothes that had become an important part of you. Thankfully, Hogwarts hadn't been too strict about your piercings, in fact you had even received compliments from some professors. But, honestly, the rules weren't all that strict since it was still a sensitive time with many grieving from the war.

The Summer weather was still lingering, and you basked in the sunlight as you walked down one of the open hallways, watching first years giggling amongst themselves as they played with their new magic skills. It brought a smile to your face, to see things returning to normal; you had missed Hogwarts dearly while you had been away, not knowing how long you would have to remain in hiding. You had even begun applications for muggle university— because, really, how could you have known whether it would be one year or ten before you could freely be a witch again?

You turned a corner, and in your drifted thoughts, didn't notice the person walking around the other way until it was too late and your shoulders had shoved against each other.

"Shit, sorry," you muttered, realising all too late that it was Theo. He was glaring at you, just like he had at every meal and every class you shared all week.

"Watch where you're going, mudblood," he snapped.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled, "Wasn't a problem three weeks ago."

"Never speak of that," he said lowly, his voice threatening.

"Why? Annoyed sex with a mudblood was good?" you retorted, and then you found yourself pinned up against the wall.

"Watch your mouth, miss."

"Don't you mean 'baby'?" you smirked, relishing in the way his eyes darkened.

You almost missed the way his gaze flicked to your lips, but then he pulled away, refusing to look at you.

"Fuck you, L/N," he spat, storming off, and you watched in amusement with your back still against the wall.

***

Theodore Nott was livid. Absolutely livid. You wound him up in the worst way possible, only for him to try and scare you- fail- and then find himself wanting nothing more than to smash his lips on to yours. When you reminded him of the pet name he used while you were fucking, the blood in his body rushed straight to his dick: the feeling of his arms gripping yours and the close proximity had felt electric. Your very presence set him on fire in every single way possible.

He hated every second.

With previous hook-ups, he had hooked up a few more times with them until he had gotten bored and moved on to the next. Before he found out who you were, he had been planning on doing the same, and now the fact he couldn't was driving him crazy. He thought about you every minute of the day, every minute of the night, and- unfortunately- whenever his hand was wrapped around his dick. And, after his interaction with you in the hallway, he knew that he needed a good fuck from at least a half-blood, if not a pure-blood.

Yes, that was all it was, his body was desperate for sex and as you were the last person he fucked, his thoughts simply went to you first. That was all it was.

Definitely.

***

Potions lesson on Monday rolled around quicker than you would have liked, but it wasn't all bad, as Slughorn was a nice enough professor. You sequestered yourself next to your best friend, ready to begin the lesson. He had promised you all your first practical lesson today, and you were excited to use a cauldron again after so long.

The only real downside of the class was that Theo was in it, and he seemed even angrier (if that was possible) than he was last week. His eyes were pinned on to you like you had murdered his family. You shrugged it off, setting up the work station while Elena went to fetch the various ingredients that you required.

Meanwhile, Theo sat across the class from you, feeling incredibly frustrated. Saturday night, he had tried to fuck another girl, but he couldn't get himself hard until he imagined that she was you. And, even then, he couldn't finish. His imagination couldn't go as far as making her feel and act like you, after all. Now, all he knew, was that you were his enemy, and his remedy. And you had the audacity to act so calm and unbothered all the fucking time.

"Your obsession isn't healthy," Mattheo spoke from next to him, dumping the potion ingredients on the table.

"It's not an obsession."

"What is it, then?" his friend scoffed, "Love?"

Theo furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Mattheo watched as Theo rose to his feet and began haphazardly chopping ingredients, the tiny knife taking the brunt of his anger.

"If it's affecting you so bad, just fuck her again."

"She's mudblood."

"It's not like you're impregnating her," Mattheo reasoned.

Theo sighed deeply, "It's not that simple. I've had it trained into me since birth that we don't associate with mudbloods."

"Well," Mattheo shifted on his feet, "Parents aren't always right."

"Since when did you sympathise with them?"

"I don't- I just," Mattheo muttered something inaudible to himself, and then said, "I don't want people to think I'm my father."

Theo said nothing.

"I'm just saying, mate, your mother's dead and your father's in prison for life— who gives a fuck what they think?"

"It's the principle."

"What even is the principle?"

"What would Draco think? Lorenzo? All of our friends?"

"Draco's not the man he was before the war," Mattheo said quietly. He knew better than anyone, being Draco's cousin, he had grown up with him due to his parents' absence. "I'm just saying. Maybe we should leave some beliefs in the past."

"You've gotten soft," Theo grumbled, "Just last week you were shitting on me for fucking her."

Mattheo shrugged, "Force of habit, I guess. I've just been doing a lot of thinking lately."

"That's rare."

"Shut up."

***

Truth was, despite all of Theo's dick behaviour and discrimination of your kind, you still found yourself waking up in a sweat thinking about his hands roaming your body. That goddamned Slytherin was the bane of your existence and the reason for your catharsis. He had diseased you, plagued you. He was a parasite that you couldn't get rid of, that was eating away at your sanity. What happened to your self respect? To your pride? You got fucked into heaven, that's what. And now your sexual urges were spreading like fire all throughout your bloodstream.

Wanking didn't feel the same anymore— your fingers didn't hold the electricity and passion that Theo's did. You craved him like a drug: and that's exactly what he was. He was something you shouldn't do, something that was bad for your health, but something that could have you seeing stars. Why did he have to be a blood supremacist?

But would it feel this intense if he wasn't? Maybe you two being forbidden, being star-crossed, was the reason that it made you feel so alive. You loved the fact he stared at you, even if it was with fury so powerful it made his whole body shake. It made you feel as if you had gotten to him the way he had gotten to you.

Just one taste of heaven had left you wanting to experience it a thousand times over.

"Get your shit together, Y/N," you cursed to yourself, forcing yourself out of bed.

"What was that?" one of your dorm mates asked.

"Nothing," you replied, "Just going crazy."

"Aren't we all?" she agreed.

***

"Party in the Slytherin dungeons tonight," Pansy stated to you one hellish week later.

You blinked at her, "And I'm invited?"

The girl nodded, evidently feeling awkward, "A lot of us are trying to- uh- make amends with mud- muggle-borns."

You raised an eyebrow at her near slip-up.

"Look- I'm- I'm sorry for how I treated you in the past," she said, actually appearing genuine, "It wasn't right."

"Um, thank you," you replied hesitantly.

"I know I don't speak for all the Slytherins, but a lot of us have done some thinking over the Summer," she continued, "We've lived in an echo chamber for too long."

That you agreed with.

"And, honestly, I think you're really cool- and I hope we can be friends."

You were taken aback by her words, never imagining that a pure-blood like Pansy Parkinson would be saying such words to you. But, maybe, forgiving her wouldn't be such a bad thing. "I... forgive you, I think," you said slowly, "I hope we can be friends too."

She gave you a small but warm smile, "Thank you. Will I see you there?"

You nodded cautiously, "Yeah, I think so."

"Great, uh, come say hi when you get there."

And with that, she disappeared, leaving you in a state of shock and confusion.

***

"Why are there so many mudbloods here?" Lorenzo asked irritatedly, sitting down on the sofa next to his friend group.

"Be civil, Enzo," Pansy gently scolded, "They're witches and wizards just like us."

"But they're not, though. Right, Matt?"

Mattheo shrugged slightly, "I'm with Pansy on this one, I think."

"See, Enzo? Even the Dark Lord's son agrees with me."

Mattheo grimaced at being reminded of who his father was.

"What about you, Theo?" Lorenzo asked.

But Theo wasn't listening, too busy glaring at you with his jaw clenched as you entered the common room, dressed up in an annoyingly similar way that you were back at the Summer party. Lorenzo followed his gaze, but he already knew where it would be leading to.

"Theo is not the person to ask," Blaise chuckled, appearing out of nowhere and sitting next to Theo, "I reckon he's about two interactions with L/N away from saying 'fuck it' and accepting his fate."

"What fate?" Theo snapped.

"The fate of falling in love with a muggle-born," Pansy said with a giggle.

"I'm not falling for her."

"Yeah, you just think and talk about her all the time," Draco, who had been quiet the whole time, spoke.

"Do you not have a problem with it?" Lorenzo asked Draco.

The blond boy shrugged, "I have a lot of regrets regarding muggle-borns. I don't want anymore."

Lorenzo groaned.

"Times are changing, Enzo," Pansy said gently, "I think you should change with them."

The man scowled and stormed off.

Meanwhile, you had finally spotted Pansy across the room, surrounded by the Slytherin boys— including Theo. You took a deep breath, deciding for the sake of a potential friendship you would have to bear it and fulfil her request of saying hi. You arrived at their group moments after you had seen Berkshire leave angrily.

"Uh, hi," you said to Pansy.

"Hi," her face lit up, "Have you got a drink? I'll get you one."

"Oh, thank you."

"It's no worries— make yourself comfortable," she then turned to the boys, "Play nice."

Mattheo raised his hands in mock surrender, but all Theo did was keep his eyes glued on to you.

Zabini shifted along the sofa, gesturing for you to sit in between him and Theo, which you cautiously accepted. The second you felt the warmth of Theo's thigh brush against yours, sparks jolted through your body, and you nearly jumped. You could have sworn you heard his breath hitch, too. This was the first time in two weeks that he wasn't looking at you, instead his eyes were trained ahead like he was retaining every ounce of self control within him.

"The sexual tension is suffocating," Mattheo remarked, standing up to go after Pansy.

His statement seemed to fuel the flame that you had desperately been trying to keep dim inside of you, and suddenly staying sat next to Theo seemed like an entirely impossible task. You were not nearly drunk enough for this. Thankfully, Pansy returned quickly with Mattheo lingering behind her, and she handed you a glass.

"Firewhiskey and coke," she said simply.

"Thanks," you accepted the glass, and downed the entire thing, "I'll get another one."

You left them all, hearing Pansy scold Theo for scaring you off, but you could still feel his eyes burning holes into your back. Just a couple more drinks and then you would join the dance floor, you decided.

And there you soon were, grinding up against a Hufflepuff boy with liquid courage flooding through your veins. You had just about managed to push Theodore Nott to the back of your mind, but you knew that it was only a temporary fix. This Hufflepuff boy was attractive, but he didn't set you alight.

"Someone's jealous," Blaise chuckled, watching as Theo glared daggers at the boy you were dancing with. Ever since you had joined the dance floor, he had been necking back drinks like his soul depended on it, and it just might. With every gulp, he was feeling more reckless and dangerous. "Accept it, mate, you're in deep."

Theo let out a sound that bordered on a growl.

"The only thing stopping you is yourself."

And as Blaise's words sank in, and the Hufflepuff boy appeared to be going in to kiss you, something snapped within Theo. In a flash, he was on his feet and taking large purposeful strides in your direction. Then, the Hufflepuff boy was torn from your side and being punched directly on the nose with such a force he toppled over. He didn't even get a chance to fight back as Theo continued to hit him, merciless in his moves.

You stood in shock watching the scene unfold before you. After what felt like forever, Mattheo and Lorenzo showed up, pulling Theo off the poor boy who had done nothing wrong.

"What the fuck was that for?" the boy yelled, blood pouring down his face.

Theo said nothing, glaring at him as he finally stopped fighting his friends' grip.

"You need to calm down, mate," Mattheo said sternly, digging his fingers into his friend's bicep.

"Theo." You said, unaware what your intentions were when the name slipped out of your mouth. Regardless, his eyes snapped to yours, appearing to soften slightly as he observed your fearful stance.

What was stopping him, really? Did the purity of his bloodline really matter to him that much?

"I think you two need to talk," Mattheo said firmly, "And I think one of you in particular- not naming any names- needs to get over his own bullshit excuses and give into what he wants."

Theo's bloodied hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories. You didn't fight him, strangely feeling your fear slip away despite what you had just witnessed Theo be capable of. When you were stood in his empty dormitory, face to face, you knew that you would have to be the first to say something.

"You were jealous," you said it as delicately as you could.

He said nothing, not even looking at you. This made you angry— enraged, even.

"Fucking look at me, Theo!" you screamed, "You haven't had any difficulty with it all week— staring at me like I'm the shit on your fucking shoe!"

His eyes locked on to yours.

"If you regret fucking me, just say it!"

"I don't regret it," he said, his volume low but tone dangerous, "Everything I've been raised to believe wants me to regret it but I can't."

You stood, stunned at his confession.

"I need you like I need water, you're an itch I can't scratch," he was stepping closer to you, making you step back, "You make me feel fucking ecstasy and misery all at once."

Your back hit the wall, and he grabbed your wrist again, bringing it to press against his crotch.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he said darkly, "I've never been so hard in my life."

You gulped, "I'm not just gonna be another of your bitches, Theo, so forget it." Even though you wanted it so bad, and you were dripping from your core.

"That's the thing, L/N," he chuckled sinisterly, "I don't think I could ever get enough. I don't think anyone else will be able to satiate me ever again."

You jaw dropped.

"I think..." he continued, "...that you're a drug I got addicted to after only one hit."

You closed your mouth, looking up at him expectantly.

"And I don't think I ever want to be sober from you."

"But, I'm a muggle-born-"

He cut you off by slamming his lips on to yours with such furious passion your mind became hazy as you eagerly returned the kiss, lifting up your arms to wrap them around your neck. For a moment, he pulled away, just to whisper, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't think I care. I think I just want you in every humanly possible way."

"Then have me," you murmured.

It became a blur as his lips crashed on to yours yet again, and he picked you up by your thighs with his blood stained hands, leaving imprints on your bare skin through your fishnets. He moved you over to his bed, kissing down your neck while he blindly reached for the hem of your top. He wasted no time in pulling it off, along with your bra, so he could continue kissing down your body.

You relished the sensation— savouring it— feeling like you were the only girl in the world. Theo was treating you with such roughness and yet such care, like he had tunnel vision for you and only you.

He pulled off his shirt, before moving down to pull down your skirt, fishnets, and panties all at once. You watched breathlessly as he dived into your leaking pussy and ate you out like a man starved. He groaned, murmuring, "I've missed this taste so fucking much," before continuing his ministrations, eliciting the filthiest moans from you that had ever been produced. This felt even better than the last time.

"You are my goddess," he licked up your pussy, "And my devil."

He began sucking on your clit, and your body felt as if it was lifting from the bed as your orgasm hit you like a shockwave, coursing through your body and sending you to places you had only brushed against before.

"Fuck, Theo," you moaned, "Please fuck me."

The man didn't need telling twice, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his trousers. He didn't waste any time going to his bedside table to grab a condom out of the drawer, tearing it open and pulling it on in record speed. You would have helped him, but your orgasm had you borderline paralysed.

And, then, he was lining up in front of you— for the first time in his life, all he wanted was to fuck missionary. He wanted to see your face (and your nipple piercings that had him drooling) and he wanted to see your expressions as you came undone below him. To him, this was the most intimate that you could get in sex, and he only wanted that with you.

He groaned louder than he had ever groaned when he let himself push inside you, knowing that no other pussy would ever feel as magical as yours. Knowing that he should never have even considered depriving himself of this for some stupid blood purity reasons.

"Fuck, baby, you feel fucking amazing," he breathed out. You reached your arms up, gesturing for him to come down closer to you.

Theo obeyed, kissing you as he began thrusting, while his bloodied hands explored every inch of you, leaving a trail as they went.

"I'd rub your clit, but I don't want to get blood there," he said through heavy pants. You couldn't help but let out a small giggle, moving your own hand down to aid yourself along.

Your moans increased tenfold, as did his pace, and it wasn't long before he was biting down on to your neck in order to contain the groans that were fighting their way out of him. Who would have thought that such plain love making could make him feel so on top of the world?

"Theo- I'm gonna come," you choked out, and the way his teeth sank deeper told you that he was going to as well. As you both reached heaven in unity, he gave up suppressing his moans, and gave you the most melodious earful that you had ever heard as his movements became sloppy and tingles spread through your veins.

Eventually, he collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, stroking his hair gently as you lay in a post-sex haze.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, making your brain short circuit.

"You what?"

"I'm sorry for being a pretentious asshole."

A smile creeped on to your face, "So, is this just a sex thing, or...?"

"Fuck no," he snapped, "I need you all the time. You're mine."

"So, it's a girlfriend boyfriend thing?"

He froze, but then relaxed, and said into your neck, "Yeah, I guess it is."

"You guess?"

He sighed, "Well, you've ruined me for anyone else."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 07/04/2024 —> 08/04/2024 published; 10/04/2024 edited; —/—/——

1K notes · View notes

sushirrrry · 1 month ago

Text

pulse. a harry styles one-shot; 12k words. the one where harry goes with his best friend, jack, and jack's little sister, charli to a music festival. CW: language, explicit sexual content (fingering, squirting, intercourse), explicit drug use

“And that’s when I knew I wanted to save the world, one fire at a time.”

The looks from the girls in front of them were flourished with admiration, maybe a bit of chaos and something that was a bit more addictive than that. But Jack was pushing his shoulder into Harry as they stood there, trying his best to play the wingman that Harry had desperately tried to dismiss the entire situation.

Harry held the bottle between his fingers, lifting it to take a sip as the morning sun rounded out into the cloudless sky. The tension in his back was killing him, his eyes were a bit heavy at the way that he tossed and turned all night from laying on the ground.

“But my guy here,” Jack took his hand on Harry’s shoulder to bring his attention back, “This guy saves more than just lives— he’s preserving the art in the minds of children.”

Jack was laying it on heavy, building up every detail of Harry’s life to mean much more than it was. Harry being a primary school music teacher wasn’t anything that was new and exciting in the real world. Jack made it sound much, much more delicate, and necessary than it was.

The two girl’s faces were astonished by the fact, one staring at Harry until he caught her eye. He smiled sheepishly at the fact, nodding a few times to confirm with what Jack had been saying before he turned his head to notice someone coming from one of the tents in their small camp.

Her hair was long and untouched, small braids still placed in her hair as she placed sunglasses over her eyes. The night before was a bit too rough on them; Harry was aware that the second day usually felt worse than the first. He couldn’t seem to turn his head away as he watched her diligently try to unscrew the top of her water bottle, almost as if her muscles had turned to mush.

Harry took it upon himself to move towards her, taking himself out of the conversation before she saw him coming.

“Need some help with that?” He offered. His own hand holding a beer as Charli held out her bottle towards him with a small grunt.

“I don’t know how you’re drinking that without gagging.” Her voice was rough, hoarse, as she cleared her throat.

Charli took a seat under the small pavilion that their group had set up; her seat now in a foldable chair as she slinked into it. The large t-shirt covering her chest and her pajama shorts that resembled boxers were nicely matched with the tall, rain boots that she had been wearing around their small camp as the dust and dirt seemed to be kicked up.

Harry took the water bottle from her hand, holding his beer against his chest as he multitasked to unscrew the top lid.

“I didn’t take any shots of lemonade vodka, and I drank a bunch of water before bed. That might have helped a bit.” Harry smiled at her; his eyes not being able to relay the affection that they may have had behind the dark sunglasses on his face. The backwards hat sat on head while the bandana around his neck helped to shield the morning sun.

He didn’t want to stare; he knew that his sunglasses had been blocking the obvious, though.

“You look good for someone who’s probably one sip of water shy of dying, I have to say.” Harry shrugged, watching as she took a few sips from the bottle he had opened for her. The look on her face showed a bit of thankfulness of him obviously giving her some pity.

“I don’t think that sleeping in tents is necessarily my thing,” Charli shook her head, knowingly hating camping to an obvious degree, but wanting to find herself in these experiences that pushed her boundaries.

That was the whole reason that she was here in the first place. Charli was always the little sister that wanted to keep up; she wanted to do everything that Jack did, and she knew that she could if he would just let her participate. When this summer festival came around, Charli asked her friend Rena to book a ticket to come with her—knowing that Jack and Harry would say no to it.

Harry and Jack went to festivals all year—they frequented this one in Spain every year and had become quite close with a bunch of other people who had traveled in for it. But this time, Charli wanted to just insert herself into the situation so neither of them could deny her entry, or her company.

Jack and Charli were close, but that did not mean that he wanted to watch her dance around at a festival and get herself into trouble. Neither did Harry, really.

But something had changed a bit. Harry hadn’t seen Charli in a year or so. He hadn’t spoken to her or hung out with her enough to notice the changes in her personality, her being, her looks. She was older now; she wasn’t the little teenage sister that tried to slip into the car every time they would head to the mall or to grab a bite to eat.

She was always beautiful, there was no denying that. But Harry found himself blushing at her remarks, stopping himself from staring at the way clothes hung off her body, and tried to deny himself from watching as she danced with her friend while trying to entertain the other men standing behind them.

Charli had always just been Jack’s little sister.

Sometime between the lines, it had taken a turn, though. Harry had looked at Charli one day and noticed that her eyes struck a match, his heart started to race a bit faster than usual, his eyes stared to wander, his palms became a bit sweatier than normal.

Instead, he tried his best to remain subtle—not wanting to say anything different, but just allowing the weekend to go along.

After the awkward teenage years when they would go on family holiday’s, Harry would always think Charli was quite funny—she was witty and dry with her humor, but it always intrigued him to some degree. And she had always been very good at Pictionary, which Harry found hilarious.

Now, it was different. Now, Harry found himself staring longer, harder. But it must’ve just been the heat, he thought.

“You look like shit,” Jack had mentioned, coming from behind Harry as he looked at his little sister, “Festival already got the best of you lot already, hm?”

When Charli had approached Jack to wanting to go to this festival in Spain, Jack and Harry had already made plans with their friends to go. Jack, being her older brother, had shown some apprehension considering he knew that Charli and Rena had never done anything like this before. They were freshly in university, a few years younger than Harry and Jack.

“Don’t be fucking annoying,” Charli said to Jack, rubbing her forehead, “We’re just hungover—it’s nothing unusual and we aren’t used to the bit of heat all the time. We’ll be okay.”

Harry’s lip turned up on the side, but his attention as brought back to Jack who hit him on the chest.

“What was that for?” Harry asked, a bit taken back by the action as he rubbed the site where he had been hit.

“Mate, you totally walked away from those two birds, left me in the dust,” Jack turned his head to try and locate them, craning his neck, “The blonde was totally into you. They were having a kickback before heading back into the grounds tonight.”

Harry focused on the beer in his hands, finishing the first one of the days before he threw it over to the small pile of garbage that they had started to collect.

“Dunno—not super interested,” Harry shrugged, but Jack gave him a strong look of disapproval.

“Not interested? In what? You not interested?” The confusion was taking over him as the three of them sat in the small, confined area. Harry poked his tongue into his cheek before he tried to think of how to get Jack to stop talking.

He didn’t care that Charli would hear how Jack talked about him—surely, she could figure out his habits on her own, but he didn’t necessarily want them repeated. Of course they had had fun at festivals in the past. But there was a small amount of embarrassment that sat on his chest as he felt the judgement pour off from Charli’s facial expression.

“It’s like, a girl’s rite of passage to hook up with you at a festival once.” Jack chuckled, grabbing his own beer from the fridge before popping open the cap, looking over at Charli. “Better keep Rena away from him tonight or he may go mad with the wandering hands.”

Charli smirked at the comment, “I’m not keeping anyone away from anyone else. Maybe she wants someone’s wandering hands.”

Jack chuckled at the comment, Harry rolled his eyes with the smile steady on his face.

The three of them sat around, making themselves a few sandwiches for breakfast—Harry brought bagels for them to share. They sat in a circle, eating and talking about the day ahead of them. The heat hadn’t really started to become an issue; it was quite nice in the shade unless you were in the direct sunlight.

The day took them into night—getting ready in their tents, while simultaneously letting the party get started. Jack and Charli were significantly more into drinking than Harry was; he kept a steady buzz with the beers that he had brought, but he let general buzz of the alcohol mixed perfectly with the contentment of the weed, too.

Jack had always made fun of Harry in the best way because he always knew how to have the best time, making sure that everyone else was having the best time around him. It was a rare kind of person who knew his own limits but was able to let the people surrounding him in on the most significant adventure of a lifetime.

Harry didn’t add much to what he was wearing except a bandana around his neck to keep the dust low. His sunglasses hung from his shirt, the backwards hat shieled his neck from the hot afternoon sun. The Adidas sneakers were dusty and worn, his shorts and t-shirt were moderately hot from the dark colors that absorbed the heat.

But it was when Charli and Rena came out of their tent that his eyes tried their best to look away—failing miserably, he knew.

Her perfectly sun-kissed skin with patches of redness that he just knew would burn to the touch with spots of freckles that accompanied, the dark curls that cascaded down her back with micro-braids that were misplaced, her top was practically irrelevant as it hung from her shoulders and tied around her back with just a simple string.

It was all that it took for him not to combust. He tried to remind himself: it’s Charli. Something about that sentiment stopped working like it had before.

The group was a bit larger now; there were many more people around to involve and take his attention. He watched as Charli and Rena had found the attention that both had been looking for. A few different guys who looked more their age had started to make their way around them. Charli and Rena took a few shots, their energy had increased drastically with a mid-day nap and some blush to help elevate themselves.

When they started to move their way towards the stages and grounds, Harry had packed himself what he needed in his pockets—a few joints, a baggie with other worldly possibilities, and a lighter. Everything he could have needed.

The bass pounded relentlessly, a constant thrum that seemed to reverberate in Harry’s chest, matching the wild, erratic beat of his heart. The music festival was a sensory overload—lights that dazzled, bodies that pressed in from all sides, and a heady mix of sweat, alcohol, and something else altogether more intoxicating the longer he stood and watched. It was almost as if he had been placed into another world; his brain would have convinced him, otherwise.

Charli.

She moved like a force of nature through the crowd, her every step drawing his gaze, every laugh tightening the coil of desire in his chest.

She was supposed to be off-limits, a hard line he’d promised himself never to cross. But tonight, with the flashing lights painting her skin in shades of electric blue and purple from the neon lights that threatened him with desire, Harry could barely remember why.

It wasn’t just the way she looked, although that was enough to drive any man to the edge. Her outfit—a slinky, black top paired with high-waisted micro-shorts—revealed just enough to set his imagination on fire yet left enough to keep him burning. It was the way she moved, all easy confidence, as if she knew exactly the effect she had on him, and maybe she did. The sway of her hips, the way her curls bounced with each step.

It was all fun and games until her eyes sought him out in the crowd—it all added to the tightrope tension between them that he hadn’t been sure was there before.

He shouldn’t be here, standing this close to her, watching her with hungry eyes while pretending that he didn’t want to touch her, taste her. But here he was, and there she was, her presence overwhelming every shred of common sense he had left.

She caught him staring—again—and shot him a look over her shoulder that made his pulse skip. Harry wasn’t sure that she had been looking at him, either. He wasn’t sure if he was misreading the signs; maybe she was just looking past him.

But that smile, playful and knowing, was his undoing. It was like she could see right through him, could tell that he was a hairsbreadth away from losing all control that he had. And maybe she liked it, liked knowing she had him wrapped around her little finger.

When she slipped through the crowd, it was like slow-motion. She was turning her head just enough to signal him to follow, and he didn’t hesitate in the slightest bit. It was almost an innate reaction to her; she walked, he followed. His feet moved of their own accord, pushing past bodies until he was right behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. She led him away from the main stage to a more secluded spot where the music was a distant pulse, and the crowd thinned out. The darkness here was thicker, the lights softer, casting long shadows.

Charli stopped abruptly, turning to face him, and he nearly collided with her. The sudden proximity knocked the breath out of him. Her chest brushed against his as she looked up at him through her lashes, eyes dark and inviting.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she teased, her voice soft but laced with something that made his blood run hot. “Something on your mind?”

“More than a few things,” Harry replied, his voice rough, strained. Her scent was everywhere, a mix of something sweet and sharp, mingling with the night air, making it hard to think about anything other than how close she was. He could reach out, just a little, and—

No. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

But then she tilted her head, and that damned smile returned, like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. “Like what?” she asked, her tone daring him to say it, to cross that line they both knew was there.

He clenched his fists, shoving them deep into his pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her. Instead, he pulled out the joint he’d rolled earlier, holding it between them as a distraction, a lifeline.

“Like this,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Want some?”

Charli’s eyes flicked down to the joint, then back up to him, and the look in them was nothing short of wicked.

“Sure,” she murmured, stepping even closer, until there was no space left between them. Her fingers brushed against his as she took the joint from his hand, the contact sending a jolt of electricity straight through him.

He watched, mesmerized, as she brought it to her lips. Her eyes glanced up at him with few blinks before Harry’s hand cuffed around the spliff to light it as it sat between her lips.

The motion was slow, deliberate, and his gaze was locked on her mouth, on the way her lips wrapped around the end of the joint, the way she inhaled deeply, then exhaled a plume of smoke that curled in the cool night air. Her eyes never left his, and there was something in them, something hot and dangerous, that made his pulse quicken.

When she passed the joint back to him, their fingers lingered, the touch just a little too long to be accidental. Harry took it, barely feeling it between his fingers, all his senses focused on the heat of her body so close to his. He took a drag, more out of necessity than desire, needing something to calm the riot of emotions inside him. But it didn’t help. If anything, it made the world spin faster, the edges of his control fraying with each second that passed.

“Having a good time so far?” Harry asked her, watching as she waited for him to pass it back to her. When he did, she took it gratefully and took another puff herself.

“Definitely. I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I think. So much going on, the music just—you can feel it in your bones. You can really—yeah, I don’t know, I just feel really, really good.” Her voice was sharp, but it had a bit of slurring to it. He knew that the dehydration and overall adrenaline would send her into overdrive if she kept up the pace of her habits. He took the joint away from her this time, wanting to keep her from overdoing it.

It was obvious—the way that she moved closer to him when he would take another step back. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, but he had watched her take only a few drinks before getting here tonight. It was obvious that they were getting high on something stronger than any of the substances combined.

Harry cleared his throat, letting their eyes linger on one another for a long moment—much longer than he had anticipated, but when her lips parted for a moment, he shifted on his feet.

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured, not entirely sure if he was talking about the joint or the way they were practically pressed up against each other, the space between them crackling with unspoken tension.

Charli took a step closer, closing whatever distance was left between them. Her body was almost flush against his now, her breath warm against his neck as she leaned in. “Doing what?” she whispered, her voice so soft, so innocent, and yet so full of intent that it made his head swim.

“You know this is just some infatuated fantasy shit, right?” Harry’s voice was low, “Your signals—your messages. You don’t want to mess around with me, Char.”

He went to place the joint between her lips again; his fingers lingered at her lips as she gratefully took the end. The color of her lips was the softest baby pink he had ever seen, a color so intimidating and intriguing.

“I think you’re writing me off because you think you know me,” Charli shook her head as she held the joint between her fingers, blowing out the smoke, “But I think you’re a bit scared. And I’m very intrigued. It’s my first festival, after all.”

Harry scoffed, “Not scared at all, love.”

Charli bit her lip, knowing the implications of the way that his eyes would gravitate towards where her teeth held her lip. Her tongue ran over her bottom lip softly, watching him stare at every single tiny movement that she could benefit from his view.

“So full of shit,” She half-whispered, shaking her head, “Can’t keep your eyes off of me, you really think you could keep your hands off if you got the opportunity?”

Harry’s eyes raised at her words, his tongue pushing into his cheek as he lifted his hand to take a large draw of the spliff between his fingers. The smile on his face was significant as he practically chuckled at her words.

“You think I’m scared to put my hands on you?” Harry shook his head, feeling the pity as he stepped close to her. The small space that they had created here in the back of the lot had become theirs as he stared into her eyes. “I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to stop once I started. This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—me and you. That’s why it’s not happening.”

Charli’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she listened to the words he spoke, practically feeling the overwhelming feeling on her skin just at his words. She tried to keep herself together, but he saw right through it.

It was practically a growl that he let out, hoping that she would back off, “I’d fucking wreck you, Char.”

As quick as he spoke, she took a step forward, “Well, then fucking wreck me.”

Her lips brushed his jaw, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down his spine. Harry’s hand tightened around the joint, the other clenching at his side as he fought to keep control, to not give in to the desire roaring inside him. He stuck his hand in the front of his pocket as he felt his cock twitch just at the hot breath of her so close.

There were a million words in his brain, but they were all nonsense.

“Charli,” he breathed, her name a rough exhale, a plea. He knew he should push her away, should step back, but he couldn’t. His hand moved on its own, slipping around her waist, pulling her closer. “We can’t—”

“Why not?” she challenged, her lips brushing against his ear, her breath hot and teasing. Her hands moved to his shoulders as she pulled herself against, letting the smell of him infatuate every part of her being. “Please, please, please.”

Her words were a siren’s call, a temptation way too sweet to resist. His resolve, already shaky, crumbled to dust. His grip on her waist tightened, and she responded by pressing even closer, her body fitting perfectly against his.

His mouth hovered over hers, the world narrowing to just the two of them, to the feel of her, the taste of her on the air.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game with me.” He whispered, his voice a hoarse rasp, heavy with the desire he could no longer hide. The sound of the music in the background was just enough to heighten their senses as he practically breathed a moan into her own.

Charli smiled, that same knowing smile, and his heart skipped a beat. Her lips brushing his without another word, the touch so light it was almost a tease, a promise of what could be if he just let go.

The last thread of restraint snapped. Harry’s hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her curls as he pulled her to him, crushing his mouth against hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was fire and desperation, a release of all the tension that had been building between them for so long.

If she wanted to be wrecked, so be it.

Charli responded in a way that surprised him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. She tasted like smoke and something sweeter, something that made him dizzier than he had felt in a while. The thump of the bass had disintegrated into a memory, the sounds of the stranger around them had begun to dismiss, the only thing that mattered was the feel of her in his arms, the sound of her soft moan against his lips as he devoured his only saving grace.

He kissed her harder, deeper, pouring everything he’d been holding back into that one searing kiss. Her hands roamed over his back, her nails digging into his skin through his shirt, sending a thrill through him. He wanted more, needed more, and the way she clung to him told him she felt the same.

But then, just as he was about to lose himself completely in her, a shout rang out from somewhere behind them, cutting through the haze of desire like a knife. The sound shattered the moment, and they broke apart, breathless, their hearts pounding in unison as Harry practically pushed her away from him.

“Charli!”

Rena’s voice had come from behind Harry, neither of them laying an eye on her until they had moved apart, and Harry’s back turned towards her. They hadn’t known how much she had seen, but it seemed like her cognizance had been long gone as she stumbled her way over to her friend.

“Hi, Harry,” Rena had seemed to forget Charli was there for a moment as she gave Harry attention first, her hand making its way to his bicep as she tried to steady herself. She moved her attention back to Charli, “I met someone who can hook us up, but I don’t know—like how much are you willing to pay? And like, he seems nice.”

Harry’s attention moved back to the conversation before his eyes narrowed gently at their predicament. He bit his lip just at the way that it didn’t sit right with him.

“I mean, a good amount, I guess. Nothing crazy. What’s he have?” Charli asked, almost like she had forgotten what had happened moments ago.

“He didn’t really say—I don’t think he’s given specifics, but I think we just want to tell him what we want to feel, and he can give it out.”

Harry shook his head, as he leaned down between them. “I know it’s your first time doing shit like this, but don’t fucking buy drugs from a random dude at a festival. That’s a way to get you offed. Unless he can prove his inventory, just don’t waste your time. Stick with the psilocybin’s and X.”

Rena and Charli looked back at him, before he shrugged.

“We have a hundred in cash,” She pressed, “I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re not just sitting on weed and beer, Harry. You and Jack go to festivals all the time—I’m not an idiot. Help us get something.”

Harry took a sip of the bottle, humming to himself before he shook his head at the thought. Turning to face her, he noticed the depth of her blue eyes that captured his breath for a moment.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to help my friend’s little sister roll like that,” He shook his head, “Especially if something happens to you. Not taking that chance.”

The words of implication felt odd as he spoke to them, the truth feeling a bit overwhelming before he watched Charli bite her lip and lift her eyes to him.

“Don’t let anything happen to me, then,” She bit her lip again, as if knowing that was the game to be played. Rena watched the interaction, but it wasn’t clear if she was taking anything into memory, “Do it with us, if you’re so worried about us.”

Rena rolled her eyes at the interaction, “C’mon, Char. He’s not going to help. I’m going to go ask for more details, I’ll meet you back here, yeah?”

Charli bit her lip as she crossed her arm; she nodded a few times as she watched her friend move back towards another guy that was behind Harry—one of the ones that they had talked to earlier. There was a group of a few guys and girls that seemed to be the same age, and possibly the same curiosity as them with these types of experiences.

She turned back to Harry, a bit disappointed by his lack of help and coddling of her.

“I’m definitely not doing it with you—that’s dangerous if you’ve never tripped before,” He told her firmly, giving her an answer she may have been looking for. Biting the inside of his cheek, he decided to question her a bit more, “But how do you want to feel?”

Charli took a moment to think, crossing her arms as she shrugged, almost like she didn’t know how to respond to his request. She wasn’t prepared for him to answer her that way; there was so much that she didn’t know, but she didn’t want him to read from her, in hopes that he may breakdown and help her out.

“I want to feel light—I want to feel careless and out of body. I want to feel a heavenly touch, almost,” She tried to think, “A pleasure like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Like, bringing me to tears type of euphoria.”

It was almost like she had described exactly what he had wanted to do for her for years, but her innocent face hadn’t caught onto it yet. His smirk wasn’t hidden as he turned away from her, pulling the bottle to his lips as he shook his head with a blush on his cheeks.

“Well, shit, Char,” He answered with a bit of shyness, “You don’t need drugs for that, you know.”

Her recognition had caught on, breathing out of her nose just a bit before she covered her face with her hand.

“That’s what everyone seems to say, but I guess I’m not having the same type of experiences they are.”

Harry bit hard on the inside of his cheek, practically drawing blood as he looked down at the ground. A race of thoughts entered through his brain, pacing back and forth at the thought of how much he couldn’t stand to be next to her now—he couldn’t think now if he wanted to. He hummed again, in recognition of her statement before he ran his thumb over his lip to try to keep himself busy for a moment.

“I’ll help you out, but only under one condition,” He told her; moving to face her, even though he knew that was not a clever idea. He knew as soon as he turned to look at her that he wanted to look away.

She nodded in agreement; he lifted his eyes from her lips.

“You can’t leave my sight,” He nodded, “Understand?”

Charli nodded again, almost like she was in a trance to nod and do whatever he said. “Uh-huh.”

His heart skipped a beat as he felt the sensational pulse through his blood, down into his stomach and all extremities before he let a soft, troubling few words leave through his lips.

“Good girl. Let’s go back to camp, then. I may have something for you both.”

Charli felt a pang in her chest at the way that his words were reactive to her; each detail struggling to make sense within her as they stood together for a moment before he nodded his head for her to follow him back. The walk was only ten or so minutes. It gave Charli a few moments to grasp the sobriety a bit; it was what Harry had expected before they made their way back to the tent area that still had quite a few people around.

That was the culture; that was the essence of it all. The darkness had small bits of light around to maneuver their respective campsites, laughter and partying continued far into the evening. It was only around midnight now before Harry had reached his tent. He opened the zipper, pressing into the space that he had been sharing with Jack before he invited Charli inside.

There was a lantern inside that he flicked on before he found a seat on the small mattress pad, he had laid down, but knew didn’t make too much of a difference.

“I’m only giving them to you, by the way,” Harry told her before searching through a backpack he had stored behind his pillow. “I can’t keep track of both of you. She’s also much more drunk than you, which is dangerous.”

Charli sat on Jack’s side of the tent before she watched Harry pull out a small saran-wrapped baggie that held a spoonful or so of white powder that was tied together; Charli eyed him for a moment before he dug to the bottom of his backpack before he shrugged and went back to the small bag and another bag nestled in his shorts pocket.

“This is what I’ve got—looks like a little snow, some tabs. Kind of mixed together, but that’s what I’ve got.”

Maybe it was showing the innocence in her, but Charli felt a range of curiosity mixed with nerves as she looked at what Harry was offering. His eyes searched her face as she cleared her throat, reaching for the small bag.

“Do you—I mean, you know how much to take? I just—I mean, I just want to try. But I don’t… you know more than I do.” She trailed off, which led Harry to smiling at her for a moment. He crawled over to where she sat, sitting next to her then on the small blanket and mattress pad.

“This is going to make everything bright—you’ll get the smallest dose, just enough for it to be good. It’s only good every so often, doing this stuff everyday wears off the pure adrenaline which is really the good part about it. Taking a bump makes everything better, it’s why it’s so addicting.”

Charli held the baggie, using her fingers to unwrap it before she looked back at him. “Give me a bump, then.”

In the most oddly intimate manner that he could think, he felt the tension and significant rush bend through his veins as he watched the way that her eyes followed his hands before he was able to add a bit of the chalky white powder the end of his pinky that was coated in a blue nail polish.

Harry extended his hand towards her, his pinky finger gently poised near her lips.

“Just breathe it in. You’re safe.”

She scoffed with a hint of a laugh, “I thought I was playing a dangerous game.”

Harry’s eyes felt heavy as he tried to ignore her flirtation. “Smartass.”

The proximity of his hand, with its subtle warmth, seemed to magnify the anticipation between them. Charli leaned in, her breath mingling with his, her lips brushing lightly against his finger as she inhaled the bump of coke from his fingers and feeling the effect almost immediately.

The burn, the tingle, the numbness that was in her nasal passage drove her head to loll back for a moment.

As she took in the powder, her eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat, and then slowly opened, revealing a glimmer of surprise and pleasure. The change in her expression was subtle but unmistakable; a softening of her features, a slight arching of her brows as if discovering a new dimension of sensation.

Harry watched her intently, his gaze never wavering away from her as she studied the way that she discovered pleasure. He could see the moment the effects began to take hold—a delicate flush spreading across her cheeks, a slow, satisfied smile curving her lips. Her eyes, once wide with anticipation, now seemed to shimmer with a new, heightened awareness after several moments of silence.

“How does it feel?” he asked softly, his voice a tender caress as he leaned in closer, the space between them shrinking.

Charli’s lips parted in a slow, blissful exhale.

“It’s… like everything’s just glowing now,” she said, her voice carrying a dreamy, almost hushed quality. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing against his, and he could feel the gentle tremor of her touch, a tactile confirmation of the high she was starting to experience for the first time. “You’re really going to let me at this alone?”

Harry swallowed harshly, letting his lips part as he thought about all the reasons he shouldn’t join in her fun. But as he watched her pupils dilate, he blinked a few times to remember the way that the blue sapphires disappeared just like that in front of him.

Charli shut her eyes softly as she hummed before moving to lay on the space that held her brother’s blanket. She laid down on her back, Harry’s eyes gravitating towards the pull of her tits before they settled a bit more upwards. He leaned his arms against his legs as she sat on the ground and watched her start to feel the threat of the pleasure eat away at her.

“We should get back out there, hm?” Harry piped up, his words almost barely heard before her watched her head move up from the lolled position, opening her eyes. “You have to find Rena.”

There was a moment of silence before she sat up on her elbows, her eyes gazing at him heavily before she let her fingers draw over a part of her stomach that were visible from the shirt’s complete openness. Harry’s eyes were focused in—it had been a trap all along, he noticed as he watched her smile with complete satisfaction.

“Should we?” She questioned, “I thought you said I wasn’t allowed to leave your sight,” She paused for a moment, sitting up completely. Her body practically touching his as she let her hand move to dance along the tattoo on his skin. “And I’m all yours now.”

Harry shut his eyes as he moved his head to the other side; trying to take in any breath that didn’t have her scent lingering within it—but that was merely impossible at this point. He shifted his hips as he sat, trying his best to overcome the initial feeling of this infatuation with her. It had never been this way before.

“Fucking tease.” He swallowed heavily as he licked over his lips.

There was a noise that Harry heard, a whimper of sorts when he stayed put. He tried to keep his eyes closed, but he felt her presence heavier the longer that he sat.

“Just once? Please?” Her voice a mere whisper, but a fixture in his memory now.

“No, Charli—that’s taking advantage of you.” Harry tried once again; he couldn’t physically move, but he just had to keep saying no, no, no. One of these times, that wouldn’t be good enough for him. He knew that one of these times she asked, he would flip. He couldn’t contain himself for that long, surely not if she continued down this path.

Charli blinked slowly, she leaned her chin on his shoulder as she sat perpendicular to him, her mouth hot against his neck. “Fucking gentleman shit. Stop making me beg, Harry, it’s not nice of you. I’m really not against begging, you know?”

Harry sensed the danger in this game—his adrenaline living for this type of interaction as he practically chewed through his bottom lip. He swallowed, letting his dry throat be a reminder of how he felt in the moment. He shut his eyes softly again before he watched Charli reach for the small baggie. His eyes narrowing as she had practically memorized his movement, picking up a small amount on the nail of her pinky before looking at him with the dazed, blown eyes that were starting to hypnotize him.

“C’mon, please,” She asked again, softly, “It’ll be fun, we don’t even have to leave the tent.”

He felt himself tense at her words—knowing full well that they could do dangerous things just in this small vicinity. He would ravish her; make her cry out in pleasure so trembling that he wasn’t sure it was for his eyes, or not. Harry became quite a monster in all the best senses when his senses were heightened—he wasn’t sure that he would be able to hold himself back again.

It was one thing when it would be one-and-done; this was Charli, after all. He would never be able to stop thinking about the pleasures and soft whimpers and rushing feelings of nirvana that would overcome him with her wrapped around him.

But what would be so bad about that?

He turned his head to the left, looking at her for a moment before he put his finger up to his nose, closing a nostril before sniffing in the white powder on her nail, letting it coat his nose and every inch of his last bit of sanity. The head rush made him breathe out in a gasp before he stared up at the ceiling. The numbness in his throat, the adrenaline rush that went straight to through his limbs and into his chest.

“Fuck,” He stated clearly, letting himself sit for a moment before the high took over. Staring at her under the influence became a greater, much more euphoric feat as he turned to see Charli smiling at him with a face of triumph.

The world outside the tent seemed to fade into a distant hum as Harry and Charli sat cross-legged on the crumpled blankets. The warm buzz of the coke coursed through Harry's veins, amplifying every sensation, every sound, every breath Charli took in the small area. The tent was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the lantern they’d placed at the entrance. It cast a golden hue over Charli’s face, making her skin look impossibly smooth, her eyes dark and endless as her dark curls laid around her face.

Charli leaned back on her elbows, her gaze fixed on Harry with a mix of amusement and something else he couldn’t quite place. She bit her lip, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that sent a jolt through Harry's chest. He was hyper-aware of everything—of the way her top had slipped slightly off one shoulder of how her breath was just a little unsteady, matching his own.

“This stuff’s intense,” Charli murmured, her voice soft but carrying a weight that made Harry’s pulse quicken.

“Yeah, it really is,” he replied, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. His eyes flicked down to her lips, then back to her eyes. The air between them felt charged, thick with anticipation and a tension that couldn’t be fooled.

A slow smile spread across Charli’s face, and she tilted her head, studying him like she was seeing him for the first time. “You’re different here, you know that?” she said, her voice low and teasing. “Not the same Harry I see with Jack.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat, but it may have been the mixture of substances. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Charli shrugged, her smile deepening. “You’re… less shy. More fun.”

Harry laughed softly, the sound coming out shaky. “I guess this place brings it out of me.”

Charli’s smile faltered for just a moment, her eyes searching his. “Or maybe it’s just us,” she said quietly. “In this world.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, and Harry felt a thrill run through him. Charli sat up slowly, closing the space between them until he could feel the heat radiating from her body. Her knee brushed against his thigh, and it was like an electric shock. He was suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was, how he could smell the faint traces of her perfume, mixed with the sharp scent of sweat and something sweet.

“I’ve always liked that about you,” Charli said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “How you’re different. How you make me feel different. You’ve always been so nice to me, you know? So… pleasing.”

Harry swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Charli…”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. Her touch was light, almost tentative, but it was enough to break the dam.

In one swift motion, Charli leaned in, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both fierce and hungry. Harry’s mind went blank, every thought drowned out by the sensation of her mouth on his, the taste of her, the feel of her body pressing against his. He responded instinctively, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, grew more frantic. It was a deepened state of mind that brought him back to reality as he pulled away for a moment to breathe and regroup his thoughts.

Harry grabbed the bandana around his neck, pulling it off before he moved to the front of the tent. Charli’s eyes narrowed as she watched him begin to leave, her mind not meeting her words that she wanted to speak out. Instead, she watched as he wrapped the bandana around the zipper of the tent, letting it hand off the outside before he zipped it up fully.

“So Jack knows I’m in here with someone,” He told her, “Our secret, though, yeah? You and me?”

Charli nodded a few times before they had reattached to one another again. Harry reached out to grab the back of her head, pulling her lips to him in a quick, rushing moment. They were pressed to each other, the messy top lip kiss elated a whimper from Charli before she sat up on her knees, pushing back against Harry to try and get him to lay down so that she could take the control she craved.

He resisted, letting his hand grab at her waist before letting her climb into his lap as a fair compromise. Her arms wrapped around his neck, hair falling over their kiss as she allowed her tongue to travel over his plumped bottom lip. It was a feeling greater than pleasure; one of great heights that she would never be able to pinpoint except in this moment.

“You’re a needy little minx, aren’t you?” Harry grabbed onto her waist, the bares skin only being covered by the string that held her top up. “Coming onto your brother’s friend, such a needy, sly little fox. Wouldn’t have ever thought it.”

His hands felt the small of her back before she pulled back to get a glimpse of the way that his eyes dilated to the largest, dark circles of abyss, staring at her with a want so great that she wasn’t sure she’d ever find again.

She didn’t know which substance was talking but she seemingly found either to be mesmerizing.

“God,” She breathed out, pushing his hair back—his head pushing back as she kissed along the base of his neck. Her hips pressed into his, pushing up on his stomach as she pressed against the length of his body. “Wasn’t going to fuck just anyone this weekend, you know,” She breathed, “Love getting what I want.”

Harry scoffed at her answer, pulling her back before he let her hands rest against his shoulders. His eyes flew down to the way that her top dropped in the front. His hands reached behind her to grab the tie, pulling at it hastily before the top practically fell apart in his hands. The way that his eyes glided over her perfectly settled tits was mesmerizing; her left one holding a small, silver piercing that caught his attention like a hawk.

As she sat in his lip, her chest at eye level, Harry stared up at her for a moment before she squirmed in anticipation. Harry licked his lips softly before spitting gently onto her hardened nipple, watching as the dribble slid down the curve of her skin. Her heart practically stopped at the stalemate interaction, waiting for him to touch her.

The heaviness of her breath took his breath away— watching her chest inflate, deflate, settle. His cock hardened underneath her, her hips moving and feeling the reaction before a bit of surprise crossed her face.

“You’ve gotten me worked up all weekend, you know that?” He told her roughly, his throat hoarse but telling her simply, “Not going to go lightly on you—I’m going to fuck you into oblivion, and you’re going to take every inch, every moment, every word of it. You understand me?”

His thumb reached out to rub over the darkened, hard nipple that had sat untouched. Her reaction was visceral. The heat of the tent was starting to get to her already but couldn’t breathe at the thought of what was to come.

“Mhm,” She nodded, curtly, “Yes, sir—fuck, yes, please.”

The nickname sparked an electricity below his belt before he pushed her from him and onto the small, padded area of the tent that he had been sleeping on. Her world flipped as she stared now at the ceiling; the small light of the lantern by the door was the only amount of light. His hips pushed into hers as they melted into one another.

It didn’t take him anytime at all before he pulled down the shorts that sat on her body—they weren’t covering much, but they were enough of a barrier. The boots she had been wearing came too. His eyes drifted to the jet-black thong that covered little to nothing. The growl in his chest reverberated before he leaned up to kiss her again— messy, the way that his mustache tickled her lip was a certain kind of pain.

She wasn’t sure what was his needs and what was the drugs that were heightening every inch of her sense. She felt her body trembling, Harry watched as she shivered, her teeth chattering for a moment before he nodded as if to speak to her without a single word.

“You’ve got it all pent up,” He nodded at her, confirming her want and needs, “It’s going to fucking snap—you’re going to feel like you’re looking at yourself from up above, like you’re levitating almost,” He licked his lips, “I’m going to talk you through it though, don’t you worry.”

His hands moved to her hips, pulling them up as he played with the edges of the small thong that barely created space between them. Harry pulled himself up to leave a few more kisses on her mouth, notably feeling the want and need of her tongue pressing past his lips for more intensity—more feeling as she responded to his touch.

“Do you hear that?” She asked him, breaking their touch and kiss as he stared down at her for a moment. His eyes heavy on hers as she stared at him with a million sparkles in her eyes—the sparkling dust filling around her orbiting pupils.

“The music?” He asked, unsure. But when he watched her shake her head, he narrowed his eyebrows.

“That sound—it’s a buzzing, it’s uh, it’s like, it’s rushing—the ocean,” She shook her head, shutting her eyes. “It’s—”

Harry lifted his hand brushing her cheek softly before he looked between her eyes. Licking his lips, he nodded in acknowledgment.

“That’s the blood in your veins you’re hearing. Sounds like the rushing of water, every time your heart beats.” He explained, as if it was logical.

Charli took in a breath, “It’s addicting—that sound.”

Harry let his hand drift further down, down, down. Stopping at the small string of her thong, pulling at it.

“Let me make the sound louder, hm?” He sat up just a bit, giving him room to pull the underwear down her legs. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he watched them turn menacing, the devilish pleasure kingdom heating between her thighs.

It took everything in him not to drop his eyes—he’d never get the sight out of his memory once he did. Her laying there in complete submission to him—wanting his touch more than the security of never doing anything about it.

Her knees bent upwards, her hand resting on her stomach before she teased the idea of going further on her own. His eyes flickered, catching sight before he breathed outwards. The world turned upside down, eating away at him as pulled at the cotton tee that rested on his back, letting the clothes make a puddle next to them.

“You going to show me how you like it, then?” He teased, letting his lips settle between her breasts, giving a small kiss before moving down a few inches. The kisses were hard, pulling at her skin the way he knew she wanted.

“I’ve never felt like this,” She told him honestly, arching her back.

“Need me, then, do you?” He asks, sitting up a bit before kissing the top of her knee. His hand ran itself down the length of her torso, watching every movement of it. It was like a trail, a road. Every divot, every freckle, every small wrinkle of her skin.

“So bad.” She gasped out before he let his fingers move down her body further. The moment he touched her, they both gasped at the undeniable feeling of longing—the collection of wetness that coated his fingers, the warmth of her being.

Harry watched every moment, every movement. His lips parted, watching as she quickly settled, finding her grounding once he pressed one finger deep into her. The way that she opened for him wasn’t a coincidence; she had been waiting for this moment for so long, he could feel every inch of her holding onto his soul.

“God, more,” She begged, her hands moved into her hair as she arched into the feeling. “More—fuck.”

In that moment, he felt like an other-worldly being, giving her everything that she could have asked for. Anything he did would pleasure her; it was a superiority that couldn’t believe he had in his touch, but he smirked at her desperation.

“More?” He confirmed, letting his middle finger slide in right in place, before he curved them, “Like that?”

A mewl left between her lips as she huffed a breath. It was a bit loud; he could process that as soon as it happened, the noise going straight below his shorts before he leapt up to grip at her chin.

“Shh,” He told her, “Knew you’d be loud, but we gotta’ keep it to us, hm? Just right here.” His mouth leaned down, hot breath along her lips as he held his arm up right next to her head.

Charli felt like her body had melted onto the floor and completely dispersed in a million directions. The lightness that she felt, the warmth that her body harbored while still having a chill to her skin. Each movement, each touch, each breath—it came into her mind like the brightest sunshine.

His fingers moved in a synchronization with her heartbeat as she felt the easiness that came with pleasing her. He pressed on her lower abdomen when he pressed in, which elicit her back to arch against the ground. It was a rapid movement, but more of a flick to his wrist like a painter would say practice makes perfect.

Harry’s eyes moved down to the perfectly pink tone of her clit, aching and drenched with pleasure as he let his thumb rub over it. Her own wetness creating the perfect glide of his fingers as he bit back at the filth of his thoughts. He had so much to say and would hold it back from scaring her off.

The soft whimper of her created a symphony between them; one rock of her hips too many would set him off, he was certain.

“Don’t be scared of it, c’mon,” He pushed his fingers in to the knuckle, letting them beckon with the motion, letting them sit for a moment before his thumb rubbed over her swollen clit—the blood rushing through her system as he nodded at her. “You can fucking do it, Char, fucking soak me, huh?”

Her back arched in anticipation of the rush, pressing her hips into his touch further as the overwhelming and unjustifiable sense of pleasure carried her upwards into the heavens. The sound she made was sinful, the way that her eyes rolled back. Every inch of the detail was harbored by the darkness around them, but Harry felt that he could see through it—watching it as brightly as he could.

There was a small gush of her orgasm that made her body shiver with adrenaline as it soaked her inner thighs, the muscles in her legs contracting and shaking as she pulled them together. She breathed out a whimpered moan before grabbing onto his forearm to elicit the message that she was simply overworked by the feeling.

Harry breathed heavily, watching her wrecked laying in the middle of the bed he had made—simply lying in it. Her chest pulsed upwards as she had her eyes shut; he knew, even in his high, that he needed to give her a minute before they imploded. He didn’t want to make her heart rate skyrocket, so he settled on giving himself the pleasure of bringing his fingers towards his lips, letting his tongue dance over the wetness of them.

“So, so fucking delicious.” He stated under his breathe, watching as she writhed under him. Her eyes now wide open, watching him taste her on his fingers as she mewls with need. It’s filthy—it’s nothing she’s ever witnessed; a man devouring a woman in this way. She knew it would be like this with him, which turned her on more than she could imagine.

“Going to wet my cock like that too, hm?” He asked, coaxing her. “Going to prove yourself to me?”

Her face was flushed, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. It took him a moment, the words leaving his lips were enough to push her over the edge once again. He pressed his hands into her hips to steady her, giving her a sense of grounding. His high made his head dizzy with greed; his thoughts danced with a flourishing wave of desire.

“You have to stay with me, Charli,” He told her gently, “Let me hear your pretty words. You want me?”

Charli had tears in her eyes, a push of absolute certainty flooded through her as she sat up in a haste to let her hands move through his hair. Her lips found his again, letting her taste herself against his lips—his tongue was warm with her.

“Mm, those aren’t words,” He murmured against her. “But I’ll take it as a yes.”

“I’m just speechless,” She giggled out, “Sorry.”

It was chaos; the mascara smudged on her bottom lash line that created a darkened effect. It was revelry; the waning moon of her pupils as they settled back into a faded darkness.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Harry echoed out his thoughts into the air as he let his thumb press into her bottom lip. He grabbed onto it, letting her smirk take over as she only harbored the horniness further from the way he degraded and lifted her in such bliss. “So, so fucking pretty. Could wreck every inch of your pretty cunt.”

“Let me play the game,” Her voice shrouded innocence, letting her hair fall into her face before he pushed it back. Her mind was running a million miles a minute, but her movements were slow, her erraticism and need for him ate away at her.

In an instant, she was pushing at his chest, moving him back so that he could rest on his hands. She wanted to pull on his shorts, let them both then lay together. The sweat that had sheened over their bodies both had created a humidity within the tent as they continued to find air to breathe, focusing on themselves.

Charli’s hands had pulled the shorts down his hips, practically not even giving attention to the stiff cock that laid against him—ready for her at any moment. Their lips intertwined again; he had missed the sweetness, knowing that it was such a part of their collective. She sighed against him, loving the feeling of his facial hair against her skin—the rough pleasure of it.

Harry laid, his back arching from the hardness of the ground, his hands on her hips as she moved to straddle him. Charli placed her shaking hand around his length, pumping him a few times, eyeing it for a moment before the sensual want of her eyes caught his. Harry bit his lip at the way that she looked; her disguise of innocence was just that.

Her head leaned down, a gentle lick under the head of his cock just to set his skin ablaze. Her eyes matched his, the eye contact far too superior. His eyes watched the hunger that captivated her, each moment longer than the next as she rested her weight on his chest before she lifted herself to sink down onto him instead.

The control he didn’t have was obvious now; he gripped onto the flesh of her hips, jaw tight. His eyes shut as he tried to come to terms with the already built feeling that settled within him. It had built up to an indecent amount, and his mind was blurring with thoughts that continue to poke and prod.

It was quick—an instant, really. No thoughts, no inhibitions, just surrender and want.

“God, fuck,” He cursed, letting her settle as her torso seemed to go for miles, he looked up. “You’re so fucking wet. Christ.”

Charli lolled her head back at the feeling of him, her hips moving back and forth just to grab onto the tension that was building. Her hair fell onto her back as she let out a breath, her hands resting on his chest to hold herself up as Harry watched her practically rub herself onto him.

His eyes wandered up her chest, watching as she arched her back to pull herself towards him. Harry’s hands landed on her ass, spreading her apart as he bucked his hips into her, his length poking in and out of her enough to create a guttural response in the back of her throat.

Harry lifted his fingers to grab at the back of her neck, pulling her head forward. His thumb pressed gently into her lips as they pouted outwards, letting his fingers coat themselves in the wetness of her bottom lip. Their hips rocked together; he grabbed her ass, pulling her upwards before he slammed his hips into her.

It was fun—it was one of the most diabolical moments he could remember, considering he knew that they could be caught at any moment in the most compromising of positions. He bit his lip to stifle the smile that pushed on his face as Charli looked down towards him, biting her own lip with ease.

“You are such fucking trouble,” Harry’s tongue was hot all the sudden, “Going to be the end of me.”

Charli hummed, laying forward to let her lips crash against Harry’s once against, a sea of teeth and scrapes as she let her nose rest against his for a moment.

“Been trying to tell you for years,” She breathed out while keeping their rocking motion of thrusts, their in-sync motions letting her breath heighten, “Too stubborn.”

“Bullshit,” Harry moved her hips against him, looking up at her, “You haven’t shown a bit of interest in me.”

Charli threw her hair to the other side of her head, letting her lips move down to the base of Harry’s jaw to suck gently—he lifted his head a bit to let her work.

“You’re clueless, then,” She chuckled under her breath, “I always wanted you to be my first kiss, you know. I had the biggest crush on you.”

The slight ping of vulnerability that hits the air lets Harry’s eyes flicker back to her; his hands roaming the fleshiness of her hips, fingernails scraping against her skin, details of her touch were kept in his mind.

“Had?”

They seem to be the only words that Harry can muster out before he watches her blush, pulling her head down into his neck as they both moan in unison from the way that she pulls up, moving down a bit more forcefully.

“Shit, you can’t keep doing that—” Harry starts to warn before she does it again, eliciting a reaction as he holds onto her waist so she can’t move any further. Charli can’t help it though, she’s pushing herself back at the feeling, knowing the one that she’s chasing is enough to give herself another orgasm.

She pushes back again a few more times—Harry’s inhibitions and self-control have formally flung out of the air; he’s never felt more obliterated and unwell. Focusing on her for a moment, he shakes his head as he recognizes that he’s not at all in the right headspace. The powder usually calms him and gives him more self-control, but something about this feels different.

Something about her.

“Fuck, fuck—I’m gonna,” He pulled her hips up, lifting her from him before ribbons of cum were left on her lower tummy and thigh, and his stomach as he held his length to finish himself off. “Fuck.”

It was a senseless act, knowing that their response time had already been stunted from the high that they were on top of the world with. His muscles contracted heavily, watching as she held herself up, straddling his lap around the mess that coated both. It’s a moment of silence, a bit of regret at the now messy situation that has them both sitting for a moment with shaky breaths and uncontrollable heart rates.

“Oh, god,” He breaths, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

His eyes feel like they’re moving a mile a minute, trying to settle as they look at Charli on top of him. She’s bent over now, laying on top of him with their chests intertwined.

“Let me,” He offers, pushing her up a bit. He grabs the shirt he had been wearing, wiping it along himself, and her.

A few passes with the fabric, he throws it to the other side of the tent. At this point, his body feels like it’s become quite exhausted—it may have been dehydration, it may have been the high that had been wearing off. Harry licks over his lips as he feels Charli move from his body and down to his side. His arm reaches to grab the blanket that they had both been laying on top of, now moving it over their bodies as he felt her shivering next to him.

The high had been wearing off; her eyes shut and heavy as she laid on her side away from him. Her body tangled itself into the blankets, forming a cocoon of sorts to lay comfortably against him.

“Stay?” Her words were almost a question; one that he wasn’t sure was for him, or a confirmation from her that she would be. Instead, he pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, shielding her body that was out in the open. His breath inhaled her scent, nose nudging at her shoulder before he nodded.

“Stay.” He confirmed.

Harry clenched his jaw as he shut his eyes; the sleep that was impending came sooner than expected for the both of them.

When Harry opened his eyes next, the light from the tent had been bursting in. The heat of the fabric had given his skin a sheen of sweat as he pulled the blanket from his chest. The way that his head pounded was a stark recollection of the previous night and the person he had wished most to see when he turned over.

But the space next to him was empty—the tent was empty.

He sat up, horrified by the way that he felt—knowing that he shouldn’t have participated in the coke with Charli, but knowing that what came out of it was stuck in his memory for the rest of his life. He wondered if she regret it; walking away from him without waking up next to him felt like something someone with regret would do.

Harry pulled his shorts on, as he hadn’t redressed the night prior. Crawling towards the zipped-up door, he opened it, finding himself squinting at the bright lights that had been trying to make their way through the fabric of the tent.

The pavilion was covered, and the familiar voices spoke outwardly with familiarity.

“Well, look who it is.” Jack’s words echoed out as Harry approached the small circle then. The small circle was the two people that he had not wanted to explicitly talk to right away. “Crazy night, huh? Couldn’t even come back to my tent, you must’ve been going all night. Lucky lady.”

He noticed Charli sitting there, her legs pulled up to her chest, wearing a large t-shirt and shorts that were most definitely men’s boxers. He swallowed hard, not wanting to take a closer look but being almost completely certain that they were his.

Their eyes met for a moment; Charli lifted her hand to bite the skin around her thumb to keep herself from asserting any type of notion that either of them had a clue about what Jack had been talking about.

Instead, Harry nodded simply.

“Yeah, something like that.” His pulse threatened to burst at the thought of her; at the thought of them. “Yeah—I, uh, think that’s the first time that won’t be a one-time thing.”

Charli’s interest piqued, her eyes focusing on him for a moment before Jack hit his shoulder, chuckling out softly before he shook his head.

“She must’ve stolen your heart for you to say something like that.” Jack exclaimed, taking a bite of his breakfast, offering Harry a plate before he took it willingly. Charli, sitting there trying to mind her own had a simple smile on her face, trying her best to not give away any details of the previous night.

But her mind took her back to falling asleep next to him; the quiet snores, the softness of his skin, the warmth of his embrace. She tucked some hair that had been falling out of her ponytail, biting her lip as she sniffled softly.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded a few times, the smile encapsulating his face, “Something like that.”

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shakingparadigm · 5 months ago

Text

Once again, I can't really gather my thoughts cohesively on this right now, so please bear with me. Just musing, so the ideas here might be a bit disconnected.

As a prodigy artist well-versed in more than just singing, it's no suprise that art is a prominent part of Till's character. Everything associated with Till seems to carry his eccentric artistic talent, right down to the abstract symbols painted onto his otherwise blank white t-shirt.

(Till's sketching and drawing seem to go hand-in-hand with his songwriting. Doodling and composition are two of his hobbies, and he's stated to be talented at both.)

(His appearance in TOP 3 emphasizes this messy, artistic angle. The symbols painted on the wall are similar to graffiti tags, usually associated with youth and rebellion. Furthermore, there is paint splattered on his face, staining color onto his disheveled hair and baggy clothes.)

(Even amongst the TOP 3, Till is presented with the most color. Between Luka and Ivan's main colors of white and black, their formal attire and elegant, charming personas, Till looks rather out of place.)

(Till's personal/special talent is floral art.)

Art is an integral part of Till's character, something that defines him and his desire for self-expression and freedom (it's no suprise that when Till loses his will to live in ROUND 6, he's dressed in plain and monochromatic clothes that lack any of his own artistic touch). Despite the ties between creativity and freedom, Till's talents are regularly taken advantage of and even tampered with due to the treatment he receives from his owner.

Guardian Urak is an eccentric segyein. A hustler, materialistic and rather pretentious. He shows great pride in Till's "uniqueness" and artistic ability, boasting that he has raised the best human-pet in history. In order to create the success that is Till, however, Urak had to execute his methods on several other pets beforehand. His practices include the thorough abuse of his human pets in order to coax out their talents, pushing them to their limits with harsh training regimens and painful experiments. Violence is a tactic utilized heavily within Urak's line of business, and the human pets under his ownership are the most openly abused.

Urak is said to abuse his pets to the point of severe mental issues. It's due to these mental issues that his previous pets have failed to achieve victory, showing great promise but never making it to the end. He seems to believe in the idea that the peak of a human's talent is tied with their instability, that the more talented a pet human is, they more likely they are to be a freak.

Urak pushes forward with the mistreatment of his humans despite their suffering. He believes it to be a part of creating exemplary art, playing into the idea of a tortured artist. Urak's pets were incredibly talented and top contenders for the title of champion. If not for their heavily deteriorated mental states, they would have brought Urak to victory long ago. It's quite clear that he does not intend on changing his methods because the humans he produces are some of the best products around. He doesn't want to change his methods, he wants a human that can withstand them.

Till's style is already established to be unique, nicknamed a "black sheep" in his official magazine page, emphasizing individuality. His brazen aggression in ROUND 2 caused him to attract much hate, but twice as many fans, too. The bashing of Freddie was framed as a bombastic and somewhat avant-garde performance act, referred to as art. Till's public persona was that of an eccentric and unpredictable artist, a highly reactive contrarian pet who presents both a high risk and high reward. Urak has produced another tortured artist, except this one is different (in his words, unrivaled). A higher caliber of pet, bringing him the closest to winning he's ever gotten thus far.

Till's various artistic talents seem to be things that he has developed on his own, stemming from his own desires and interests rather than something forced onto him by Urak. In one of VIVINOS and QMENG's livestreams it was stated that Till is inherently gifted, a creative genius since birth. Till uses his abilities as tools of rebellion and self-expression, writing his own music, vandalizing and adjusting segyein-provided material and outfits in order to make them more his own. It's unfortunate that even Till's attempts at rebellion are taken advantage of and instead used against him. Constantly battered and bruised, isolated in a cell, forced to endure experimentation, all of his artistic ingenuity and creations have been taken by the segyein and used to promote him as a product. He has been turned into a spectacle, his misery and abuse put on display for others to gawk at. Suffering for the sake of art.

#sorry i dont know if this makes any sense ummm #alnst #alien stage #alien stage till #alnst till #till alien stage #para.musing

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scourgeofmyownbrain · 4 months ago

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Edit: I MADE AN UPDATED ONE GO LOOK AT THAT ONE IT'S BETTER I CITED MY SOURCES AND SHOWED MY WORK AND EVERYTHING

Ladies and Gentlemen, Bitches and Bastards, Witches and Wizards, Mothers and Fuckers. Esteemed robot enjoyers, I present to you a semi-accurate height comparison of Bumblebee across the multiverse (as of July 2024). This really helps visualize the truly staggering differences between universes, at least height-wise. Also, three of these characters are Canonically the Same Guy; guess which ones.

I spent way too much time on the chart in the back it's not even funny. I will probably make more height charts for more TF characters and universes in the future. Don't expect it soon though, because when I make these, I am fueled by pure I-Got-Bored-At-Work-And-I-Have-Decided-To-Fool-Around-With-Robot-PNGs, and that fuel supply is inconsistent at best.

Hey Fun Fact, Did you know that Generation 1 Optimus Prime is around 19 Feet Tall? Bet some of you already knew that. I have no ulterior motives for bringing this fact up, what are you talking about.

My height explanations are below the cut, because you couldn't shut me up if you tried.

In an order:

Gen 1 - ~10 feet (the wiki says greater than 3 meters so I rounded up to the first whole number because round)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~10 feet (He looks identical to Gen 1 so... the reason his photo looks weird is because I couldn't find a good full body photo with him standing straight up facing the camera so I put two images together to make the worst looking photoshop job you have ever seen)

Earth Spark - 10 feet (There is no confirmed height yet but using a screen shot of him standing in front of a barn door I was able to make a reasonable guess.)

Animated - 12 feet (I have no genuine source for this, I think this info is just someone's guesstimate, but it seems reasonable. He's a tiny two door mini car, how big could he be)

New Live Action - 15 feet (The wiki hath declared. Also do we have a name for this universe because we need one I don't want to keep saying like 6 words to differentiate this one from bayverse)

Bayverse V1 - 16 feet (This is like the first 3 movies minimum, I don't remember when he hits his growth spurt. also wiki my love)

Cyberverse - 18 feet (I'm gonna be honest, the only info we have is from a really shitty screen shot of a magazine. SO if any one has a copy of this book from the video below, a high quality scan would be greatly appreciated and I will kiss the ground you walk upon. Yes I found the video where the screen shot comes from leave me alone)

Bayverse V2 - 18 feet (movie 4-5 I can't remember which one, I'm not re-looking this up. I fucking love the bayverse tho, this is the only universe with concrete and consistent this-character-is-this-height info)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - 20 feet (video game info screens you god send, kiss me sweetly)

Aligned Cont. TFP/RID15 - 21 feet (I do not know exactly where these numbers were found, but I fully fucking believe them. Just by looking at these characters on the show I can verify these numbers in my mind. They made specifically this universe to be full of freakishly tall robots for some fucking reason.)

And for any one who doesn't know, the three tallest are the same guy. Like the 20 feet tall one and the 21 feet tall ones, same guy. The ones in three wildly different art styles and designs. Let that sink in...

I fucking hate the aligned continuity why is that one my favorite.

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bear-remn · 3 months ago

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— kanato headcanon's

hii, omg i laugh a little while reading this, bc its so true! kanato can be put in a stereotype and cant get him out if that but ill do my best so i hope i dont desappoint!! and ty so much for enjoying my blog, it means a lot to me that you guys like what i write and specially my art!

so here i bring kanato, and with a little warning as well as i did with laito, kanato is also a very complex and deep character, he isnt childish all the time and definetly not a kid, he is a hole ass man with the usual mommy and daddy issues (cortesy of diabolik lovers to every character)

tw: this post has nsfw content (+18) , so if you dont like it dont read it!!

kanato was so friking difficult to draw, i dont love it but in another moment ill draw him again until i like the result.

his looks and selfcare

so, kanato, i have some thoughts, to begin with lets talk about his appearence, i like to think that kanato has the kind of ethereal beauty, maybe bc he is the one who looks the most like his mother, so the beauty is serving. kanato has round eyes and long lashes, and his dark circles juts makes his gaze pop out.

oh, and kanato gaze? i think he may be the most scary one, ofc not all the time, kanato round eyes makes him have a cute and friendly gaze and as well one that sink into you the moment he see's you with dark eyes and a terrifiying aura.

i like to think that kanato has the most pretty eyes of the sakamaki brothers, and even if his brothers may say he is kind of femenine, kanato doesnt care, he may be more of a femenine beauty but still is so godamn handsome.

i like to think that kanato does not really take care of his skin. its like shu, he has a pretty and soft skin just by washing his face with water, dont have acne even he always eat sweets, but he do use a good soap like laito, a bar soap and only for his face, and really hates when his brothers use it for their hands, kanato throws it away if that happen's.

i think kanato has a sensitive skin so he has to be carefull with what he cleans himself, one time in his teen years, kanato used ayato soap by mistake and he got urticaria, but the soap was'nt used before so kanato knew it was'nt for the dirty soap, it was just a cheap soap. since then kanato only use natural soaps, he likes lavanda ones, vanilla or coconut, he likes sweets escents. also uses natural shampoo.

kanato prefers long baths bc he enjoys the hot water, and really really hates cold showers.

kanato likes to style his hair, he doesnt have fluffly hair, so he has to style it to have more volume.

i think kanato do not use sunscreen, he thinks its dumb since he is a vampire and tecnically dont age like a human so he isnt worried for that.

and since kanato has sensitive skin, i belive he also has some sensorial issues, like he can't stand someting itchy or to rough to the touch. kanato will literally burn it, he has to feel soft clothes, like cotton or silk, and yes, he loves silk, actually, kanato has slik sheets and pillows.

i think kanato has a normal sense of fashion, like i dont get why people sometimes put kanato in lolita or cute core or whatever, kanato really loves comfy clothes and more like "grandpa" clothes, like chunky sweaters, he likes to use belts and classic shoes, dont like sneakers.

and for his body, i think he does have wide shoulders, but he is skinny bc he dont excersize, it happens the same with the sunscreen, kanato think is dumb to excersize bc he has super strenght so he does'nt really need muscles to prove how powerful he is. kanato has big and slim hands, good cared nails. i also think kanato dont have a small waist, he has a more thick waist and prominent v line, but not so much like his brothers. i like to think that kanato has a mole on his side stomach.

and he also can grow a beard but dont like it, he think he looks terrible and freak out a little every time he sees a little hair on his chin.

random stuff

so, i have a lot of thoughts in kanato.

to begin with, i think kanato has a lot of sensorial issues, like he cant stand being with a big group of people for too long, the noise of people talking or just hearing them breath it makes kanato stress out a lot. this also happens with food, if the food has a weird texture he has the instict of throw up. and lastly i think this also happens with the touch, like if he touch sticky things, clumpy or bumpy, something of a strange consistency, kanato will go crazy.

and i also think (maybe canon?? im not sure) kanato is not a cry baby, its just his way of manipulate things at his favor when he needs it. i think he only has really cried for anger in his life, not really bc he is sad.

i think kanato likes to collect figures, not teddy bears of plushies, he likes specially horror figures, like lucky boxes or just iconic horror figures. and speaking of horror, kanato is a big fan! he has maga, movies and books of horror stories, he thinks humans maybe do has good ideas but sometimes he thinks its too absurd, like zombies? where did that come from?

i think kanato likes to walk, just, go around and take long walks, it help him clear his mind and dont think too much of his mother. and its no secret kanato has a hard time in rainy day so i think he listen to music with earphones bc he feels down if he hears the rain.

i also think kanato has a special way of expressiong himself with other people, like, he takes everything literal so he says things very literal, and has a short temper, cant stand stupid or slow people (me neither kanato, i got you) it gets on his nervers.

i like to think that kanato gets the ick with a lot of things, like if he sees someone drop their food and pick it up again and eat it, kanato cant belive it, or when someone says a joke that its not funny, he gets the ick, also when someone has bad taste in music, kanato cant stand bad music.

and speaking about music, kanato is a big fan of the classics singers, but also some divas, he just likes how their voice can go so high. but he dont really like singning, he despite its but love it at the same time. vampire things.

nsfw

so... kanato is one fo a kind. maybe the most kinky out of his brothers.

so to begin with, kanatos dick, a solid 16 cm, very avegare, mostly for his complexion. is a pretty dick, with a pink tip and not pubic hair, kanato has two veins coming from the croch to his tip. and its slightly pointing up with a little curve.

(and btw, so its not too crazy, the lengts i put are when they are hard, like hard and wild. i belive all the brothers are team blood, except for subaru but thats another story)

i think kanato its a switch, but he prefer to be dominant rathen than being dominated. oh and he has a really high sex drive, but not like, with everyone, when he is into you and really loves spending time with you he get the urge to be under your skin everytime he can, but likes to make you know it too, he wants you to want it.

i think kanato can be very unpredictable, mostly bc his mood swings a lot, but if you are patience and please as he wants you to, he may become interested in you, constantly looking out for you and wanting to spend time with you, thats his love lenguage, quality time!

at first i think kanato will ask you to do things for him, and in some point he will start doing things for you, like if kanato sees you cooking he may join to help, at the begining you are in shock for his actions, so caring and nice all of the sudden, but then you will get use to it, and if you two are close enough. kanato will tease you in a cute way.

"am i suppose to be impressed by your cooking? maybe if you cook topless il be more thrilled hehe"

you see, kanato is not really a dirty talker, he has a more sooting tone and his way of speak when he wants to get you in the mood its more loving and like a smooth seductive. oh and he will call you by nicknames before having sex, but during it kanato loves to say your name or call you a good girl.

i think kanato also loves spending time with you, like a little cute married couple.

and if you two are doing any other activity he suddenly will kiss you, just bc he finds you so cute and precious, he cant get his eyes off your lips, he loves kissing you. kanato is a tender kisser, likes to feel to softness of you lips and how your tongue respond to his, and if you two kiss for a while he can get worked up "you like kisses? i'll kiss every part of you, so be a good girl, okay?" and then will start kissing your neck, likes to kiss right where the big vein in your neck pump, he can feel the blood flows through his lips and that is a turn on for him.

"you like when i kiss you here dont you?... i feel how your body tremble when i do it... you're so cute like this..."

kanato takes his time with you, likes to build up the mood and stuff. when he get enough of you neck, he'll mess with your earlobe and your chest. kanato dont love to be rough in bed so the foreplay is really calm and slow. will put his knee bewteen your legs as he suck on your tits, likes to play with your boobs, suking your nipples makes him so hard while hearing you moan softly while gripping his hair, and he loves when you hold onto his hair.

kanato is'nt a rusher but when you had enough of teasing he will take your clothes, and i mean it, kanato will tear them from your body.

"i don't care about your clothes, i'll buy you nices dresses so i can rip every one off your body"

and maybe unexpected, but kanato do likes 69, likes to eat you out so much, he think that your juices are as good as your blood, and he definetly makes you eat pinapple with him for this moment. he likes to tease your clit and sometimes will stick a finger inside you as he keeps on sucking you. and a little detail i like, i that when you suck him off, kanato doesnt realize his hips moves unvoluntary, so sometimes you may gag, and after you cum or he does, your eyes will be really watery from how many times he thrust into your troat.

oh, and he also likes to play with candles while fucking you, like when he is inside but not moving waiting for you to feel confortable, kanato will take a candle and with his powers he get the fire to melt a little so little but hot drops of candle fall into your stomach and chest.

kanato is a classic, loves missionary, mostly bc he loves to watch your face while fucking you, kanato is a slow and deep kind of guy, like he makes sure you feel him real good so he tends to take it all out to put it back again. and really loves seeing how it goes in, he thinks its very romantic to see how your bodies make one.

"you should see this... you take me so well... so good for me... you're such a good girl for me..."

and when the pace become steady he will be hipnotized by your tits bouncing, he loves your boobs. probably will stick a finger inside your mouth as he keep going.

but i also think kanato can be a player, a really kinky one.

for started, kanato likes the dinamic where he is the one in charge and you are his slave, his pleasure slave, and when he is in that kind of mood, kanato will tie you up, use his powers to make you stay still and play with you, loves to edge you, cut your pleasure gives him pleasure, hearing your cries for not cuming and desperate moans makes him really hard.

like if your are getting fingered he will take his fingers before you cum and if you attempt to touch yourself he will use his powers to make you stay still "oh... dont be a bad girl, you'll come when i say so... either way i am the one controling your body... hehe" and then he will finger you hard to make you cum, kanato loves to hear how wet your pussy get that he will ride you trough you climax by oral.

and he has make you squirt but he doesnt know how, the firts time you squirt was on a busy night, you had come a lot by that point and he just keep going even after you just cum, no breaks, so kanato was amused when he sees how you wet the bed and his legs got, he thought it was so hot that he got mad bc he didnt get to drink it all.

and if kanato feels to horny, probably for the full moon, he will get savage. starting soft and nice but at some point of the night kanato will be basically destroying your pussy, like fucking you so pussy drunk he cant stop even if you had cum before. loves to heard the wet sound every thrust makes.

"fuck... you might eat me tonight... hehe... how can you feel so good huh?... keep cuming... i have more for you" and with his sloppy thrust, cocky grind and needy eyes. dear lord.

when kanato is about to cum he will start to fuck you a little harder, and will bite you at the moment too sometimes. kanato will thrust deep as he feel it coming.

"be a good girl and take it... yes... such a good girl for me.."

the aftercare its two ways, or you and him cuddle for a while and then sleep after cleaning himself and you with wet wipes, or you two go for a snack before goign to sleeep. you know, to keep the sugar high.

and when you two are well rested he may began kissing your neck again while playing with you nipples "you deserve a reward for making me feel so good... i think you are able to take another one... right?"

── more of my content here!

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