#bloody stupid question
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pratchettquotes · 1 year ago
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Ponder rolled his eyes. These things always sounded fine when he worked them out in his head. He'd read some of the old books, and sit and think for ages, and a little theory would put itself together in his head in a row of little shiny blocks, and then when he let it out it'd run straight into the Faculty and one of them, one of them, would always ask some bloody stupid question which he couldn't quite answer at the moment. How could you ever make any progress against minds like that? If some god somewhere had said, "Let there be light," they'd be the ones to say things like, "Why? The darkness has always been good enough for us."
Terry Pratchett, The Last Continent
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13reasonstoeatthatcake · 6 months ago
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I really want to know how Lilith Sorrengail feels about trying her best to get her youngest daughter away from whatever it was that her dad supposedly found in the Archives after Brennan 'died', just to get said daughter even more involved with the tyrrish rebellion two: electric boogaloo.
#fourth wing#ngl my first thought reading the book was 'oh shit she Knew brennan wanted to use his sis as a scribe informant for the rebellion the same#way he maybe used his dad and she was like hell no and put her in the riders quadrant to get her brainwashed that navarre is right instead#so that she doesn't end up dead like spy-scribe dad and his questionable research into ward magic'#but then i thought about it more and decided i wasn't giving papa sorrengail enough credit bcoz he was Up to Something and got got for it#personally if my entire family was lying to me abt my big bro being alive i would lose my shit. that being said i find it incredibly funny#that everyone who knew violet best were like 'she finds out venin are a thing and she WILL do A Stupid out of righteous fury'#not A Stupid like smthn dumb; A Stupid like lead the entire scribe quadrant to a bloody revolution against Navarre Babel-style#I can't wait for this series to finish publishing so I can sit my ass down and plot out a scribe-revolution-leader-Violet AU#it can even be a viden secret arranged marriage. as a treat. because we need to merge the two rebellions of course#where is tiern in all of this? he got stuck babysitting teen andarna who is Super Mad her rider is a scribe. The Audacity! Navarre Will Pay#teenage dragon shenanigans occur. Scribe Violet bonds two dragons in front of her whole year. they're in the underground scribe library.#how did two enormous-ass lizards get in? nobody gives a shit. all scribes are too sleep-deprieved to care about distinguishing between#real life and halucinations. the dragons stay in the library. they get sat on because it's cold underground and fire lizards are Warm#command tries to find out if smthn weird is happening in the scribe quadrant but at this point every single one of them is in the rebellion#they have 600yrs of misinfo to correct. venin to dissect. what dragons? in the library? don't be ridiculous they'd burn the books#anyways i got carried away but library cats!tiern and andarna#kei writes
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imabiscuitinthousandworlds · 8 months ago
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crippling anxiety hours let's go
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chatxkilluaxnoir · 2 years ago
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I had found a place to watch LMK/Lego Monkie Kid, but now I can’t watch there!  Great!!
I can’t watch there because you can now only watch it in that one country, which I am not in.
Because of content and broadcast license reasons.  I was able to watch there just awhile ago, but now I can’t.
Which is just great.
I hate when stuff is region-locked so much.
I know I have already asked this, but now I once again need more places to watch LMK, esp. now that it looks like the English dub of S4 of LMK has started to release and/or will start to release soon and that there will be new episodes on Feb. 26th (which I think might just be the English dub/more of the English dub of S4, but that is still awesome; I had been waiting for that) I think.
So yeah, does anyone know any cool places to watch LMK in good quality here?
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l3vi4than · 6 months ago
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NGL ID BE FUCKING HAPPY TO TEACH MATH IN SCHOOL/UNI IF IT WOULDNT HAVE TO BE CHARITY BASED HELL TORTURE JAIL
seriously the amount of money you get as educator in any non-private education facility is laughable, while the responsibility and the amount of unnecessary paperwork is ridiculously abundant
also I want to teach HOW I THINK IS RIGHT not how some dude from the ministry told his secretary to interpret a century-old book on teaching monkeys use abacus. I spent a fucking decade learning and researching this, and you still don’t trust me to do this job??? Why you even funded my education then??? Why you bothered to issue me a PhD degree if you don’t trust I’m able to think independently? Why you specify you need a person of my qualifications if you actually want someone to just blindly follow a stupid rulebook???
because I refuse to ignore that different kids/adults inevitably have different learning needs and paces, and that the current math education is just stupid “learn by heart this table” nonsense with zero underlying context and concepts explained that is only focused on passing the following assessment and lacks the necessary applicability training
It breaks my heart to watch people claim they have dyscalculia and being unable to do math just of sheer fear of being called “stupid” all while they are easily manipulating large table data and performing complex matrix analysis in mind when it comes to video games or cross stitch or whatever their hobby is. Like, girl, dear, you’re not stupid and you don’t have dyscalculia, you’re traumatised and scared af of even trying to touch something that reminds you of your school math.
And I get it, it’s valid, but I promise it doesn’t have to affect your quality of life, math isn’t evil and you can still learn it easily enough and im here to help if you need it. You struggle with percents not because you’re dumb, but because you lack the context that it is just a different way of writing down a decimal proportion.
Now, what was it about that cookie dough you were so proud about yesterday? You said three cups of flour and one cup of milk right? I don’t have a cup, im gay, I have only this tekila shots, but ten of these is a cup I guess. So uhhhh how do we do this…
it’s 3:1 proportion right? So if I have three shoots of flour and one shot of milk it’s correct but won’t be enough for even a single cookie. But if I do this again (making it now 6 shots of flour and 2 shots of milk) it’s still the same proportion but amount is doubled, so it’s enough for a cookie now!
So, let’s do this again while we still have milk I guess haha… now it’s 75 shots of flour in this bowl and here is 25 shots of milk here. Yeah, looks good? Cool, it only took 100 shots to make this dough, less than an orgy and 25 of them were milk. So I guess your cookie dough is 25% milk huh?
See, it’s not that scary, you actually use it every day. Now, it wasn’t about the cookies, im sorry, we were actually mixing up a margarita, so slaaaaay queen and let’s proceed to the statistical analysis, so as you know already the Lebesgue integrals are-…
assume for the sake of this poll that the ubi is a comfortable living wage and that you can get a job in any field you’d like.
also if you picked ‘for another reason’ pls put why in the tags/comments im curious :]
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zonkutonshorrifyingpeenie · 2 months ago
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Please tell me I did not just witness someone in-call say "We need to put an ultra-hard puzzle in our thing structured around language construction... Hey ChatGPT, make me a language puzzle I can solve in 15 minutes"
PLEASE tell me I did not just fucking witness such stupidity
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cumikering · 7 months ago
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Ghost x plus-sized reader
2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that
“Can I carry you?”
At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.
You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”
“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”
“And you picked me?”
He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”
You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”
His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”
You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.
How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?
“N- no.”
His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”
Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”
He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”
“Wait- are you sure you can?”
“Hop on,” he repeated.
At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.
You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.
It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?
“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”
He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.
“Oh! Where are you going?
“I’m getting you a drink.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”
You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”
“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.
He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.
“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.
He shook his head.
“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”
“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.
“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”
“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”
“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”
Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.
He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.
“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.
When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.
“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”
“You’re the lieutenant?”
He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”
“He put you up to this then?”
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.
”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.
“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”
When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”
So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.
“Right. Okay.”
You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.
“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.
“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.
“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”
With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.
Huh, first date?
You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.
Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?
He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.
He smirked. Smart girl.
“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.
“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”
“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.
He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.
With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.
“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.
“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.
He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”
He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.
His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”
“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”
Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”
“Simon, what’s…”
“I’m not repeating myself.”
The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.
“That’s not all.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.
Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.
You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.
The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”
“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.
He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.
“Did he…”
“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.
“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”
Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”
“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”
“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.
You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”
“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”
When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.
“Would you like me to send you home?”
“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”
“Would you let me, if I want to?”
There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”
When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.
“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”
“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.
Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.
“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”
It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.
“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”
You chuckled.
“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”
“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”
“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”
“Extra chips?”
“Extra chips,” he affirmed.
“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”
Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?
“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”
He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”
You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.
As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.
Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.
“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.
You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“Right now isn’t even too soon.”
You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.
For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!
Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family
Ghost's online fantasies came true Masterlist
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thekitsunesiren · 10 months ago
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Dc x Dp #42
Danny raising both de-aged Dan and Dani in Gotham and a small apartment. Everything seemed to be fine for the most part. Though he was tired of how many different jobs he had to keep taking because of all the rogues running around and trashing the place. He came home and complained everytime about the stupid rogues that was causing trouble. The latest was the Joker with his bombs blowing up the coffee shop he worked at.
He complained as he made his way into the kitchen to prepare dinner, missing the look that was shared between Dani and Dan.
Because while they were physically regressed to the ages of toddlers, their powers still stayed intact. Of course, the most Danny had to deal with was the two occasionally floated when they were sleepy or excited. Which he could handle. He didn't know how much the two were holding back in his presence to appear on their best behavior.
Which lead to Red Hood standing over said toddlers in the middle of the night. Dan holding a bloodied Joker by his hair. And by the faint trail of blood behind him, they were obviously dragging him somewhere.
Now, he's dealt with kids with superpowers before, but he didn't think he would have to deal with literal babies.
"So, what do you kids got there?" He asked, voice inquisitive yet static-like due to the voice modulator in his mask.
"We got a bad clown!" The girl chirped, blue eyes piercing with a proudness that no toddler should have about beating up someone. Though, he'll give it to her, he was a bad clown.
"And why do you have the bad clown?" He asked, ignoring the pained groan said clown let out that was muffled due to him being face down on the concrete. Hearing the sound, the young boy that had him lifted his head and slammed it down on the ground with a strength that startled Jason for a moment. His hand reflectively going for one of his pistols before settling.
Well, that answered the question of whether or not the kids did it themselves. Sparing a glance between two, he noticed the boy was a bit more roughed up
"He upset mama." The boy answered plainly, frowning as if upsetting his mother was the most unforgivable thing there was. Though, what kid didn't think that way? "He made mama job go boom!" She said, spreading her arms in an exaggerated manner to imitate an explosion.
Ah, Jason did remember Joker did blow up a few buildings the other day. He guessed their mother was working at one of them. Did that mean that she was a meta on the run, a civilian with two meta children, or some sick handler of child soldiers?
"Well, we better bring him to mama, shouldn't we? Bet she'd be really surprised to see what you two did." He offered, curious to see their reactions.
Both children suddenly looked up at him with matching blue eyes that sparkled with excitement. Probably because he wasn't going to stop them from what they were doing.
"Let's go see mama!" The young girl cheered, the boy giving a nod in affirmative before the two began walking down in a direction that was no doubt their home. The boys grip on the Joker's hair unfaltering as he continued to drag him through the pavement.
Jason followed the strange group, hands nestled in his pockets as he couldn't wait to see the reaction of their mother when the group returned home.
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alexthetrashyracoon · 8 months ago
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Simon wants to marry you.
This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.
So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.
He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.
Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.
When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.
Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.
Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.
But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.
"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.
"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"
"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.
The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.
Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.
He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.
"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."
"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.
His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.
Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.
Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.
But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.
He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.
"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."
"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."
You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.
"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."
Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.
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hoshifighting · 27 days ago
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      jeonghan + anonymous sex
— where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, mr. yoon.
WARNINGS: +18, smut, oral, halloween party setting, penetrative sex, oral [f. rec], dirty talk, edging, taboo, fingering.
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
halloween at uni was always a wild time—like, the one night when everyone just let loose and acted like idiots without any shame. it was a free pass to look either insanely sexy or terrifying as hell, and you’d seen both ends of that spectrum in past years. mostly, you loved it ‘cause it was kinda like a game of guess-who after the party, everyone spending the week after trying to figure out who was who under those masks. and that’s why the costumes just got more and more wild. anonymity? sign you up.
you and jewie, your ride-or-die dormmate, had done the whole horror bit every year, rocking the most messed up, bloodied-up outfits you could think of. but this year you both decided to go full-on sexy for once. jewie was rocking this short-ass witch outfit, all black and lace and pointy hat, and you—well, you were killing it (pun intended) in your killer bunny getup. thigh-high lacy white socks that clung to your skin, corset cinching you in, and this creepy-ass bunny mask that made you look both cute and dangerous. not to mention, the whole mask thing meant anything could go down and nobody would know.
“yo, you really gonna leave a note in his locker?” jewie whispered, eyes sparkling as the two of you snuck into the staff wing, the sound of your heels echoing off the empty halls.
“hell yeah, i’ve been crushing on prof yoon since he walked into his first lecture looking like a whole-ass snack,” you hissed back, your heart racing.
she let out a cackle, almost too loud. “he’s gonna die when he sees it. also, maybe don't bend over like that unless you want your ass out for the world to see.”
you shot her a look over your shoulder, half squinting through your mask. “fuck you, i’m not gonna walk like i’ve got a stick up my ass.”
“babe, that’s your job,” she teased, slapping your ass as you fumbled with the lock on the door. she was always like that—pushy, teasing, but down for whatever dumb thing you suggested, no questions asked.
finally, you managed to crack open the door to prof yoon’s locker, and the nervous excitement flared up all over again. “i’m doin’ it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you slid the note into his stuff. just a stupid little flirty note. something anonymous and mysterious. if he recognized your handwriting? well, oops. that’s a future problem.
jewie watched, leaning against the doorframe, eyes flicking between you and the locker. “if he likes it, we might need to sneak you back in here to leave more. like a killer bunny pen pal situation.”
you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “he’s not that dumb, but if he was, i’d consider it.”
you straightened up, adjusting your mask before looking back at jewie. the whole night felt like some weird fever dream—maybe it was the booze from earlier or just the high of running around campus dressed like this, but you felt unstoppable.
“okay, let’s get outta here before we get caught,” jewie said, pushing herself off the wall. “i swear if we see anyone, i’m pretending i don’t know you.”
“bitch, please, you’d totally rat me out,” you shot back, nudging her as the two of you slipped out of the staff room, adrenaline still pumping.
you took a long sip from your pouch, the cheap booze hitting just right as you swayed along with jewie to the beat. then, mid-spin, you spotted something—or rather, someone—that made you freeze in place, your lips still wrapped around the straw.
“i can’t fucking believe it,” you muttered, pulling the straw out and sulking like a kid who just had their candy stolen.
jewie gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “what’s got your panties in a twist now?”
you nodded toward the door, where another killer bunny had just strutted in, looking way too damn good for your liking. “look at that,” you said, gesturing with your drink. “bunny? okay, fine. but killer too? are you shitting me? what’re the odds?”
you huffed, feeling your vibe slightly killed by the sight of the other guy wearing basically the same damn thing as you—except he had this slutty, fitted black suit, and his mask was just as creepy as yours, that luscious black hair peeking out from behind it.
“wow,” jewie scoffed, following your gaze. “you’re really pressed about another killer bunny? seriously? it's halloween, dude, chill. everyone’s doubling up.”
“easy for you to say,” you muttered, still eyeing the guy. “you're not the only slutty witch in the room.”
she rolled her eyes, snorting. “uh, excuse me? i've seen, like, five other witches tonight, and one of them even had a broom—a broom, y/n. i just accepted it. it’s halloween.”
it was halloween, and sure, half the campus was probably dressed as witches, zombies, or sexy cops. but still, the nerve of this guy, strutting in like he invented the killer bunny look.
“and, you know what? my panties are in a twist, actually,” you shot back, glaring at jewie, who just gave you an unimpressed look. “like, literal twist. feels like they’re strangling me.”
she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “oh my god, you’re such a mess. there’s a whole locker room situation going on if you wanna fix it. no one’s gonna be in there anyway..”
“the locker room?” you hummed, considering it for a second. “yeah, might as well. better than walking around with my ass in knots.”
you slipped away from the party, the beat of the music fading as you made your way down the empty hallway, heels clacking against the floor. it was eerily quiet outside the main campus area, the darkness swallowing up the noise from the party like you were walking into another world. halfway there, though, you swore you heard something. footsteps, maybe? you glanced back over your shoulder, but the hallway was just as empty as before. shrugging it off, you kept walking.
then again—footsteps.
you whipped around, heart starting to race a bit. nothing. nobody. great, you thought. either you’re paranoid or some dude in a clown costume’s gonna jump out at you any second.
you sped up, practically rushing into the locker room, slamming the door behind you like that would keep the creepy vibes out. with a sigh, you lifted your skirt and fixed the tangled mess of fabric underneath. “goddamn,” you muttered, whistling in relief as the tension eased up. “finally.”
you made your way to the mirror, fluffing up your hair, adjusting your bunny ears, trying to look like you hadn’t just freaked yourself out. but then you heard it again—footsteps. this time, not so distant. real close.
before you could even react, the door creaked open, and there he was. the other killer bunny. strolling in like he owned the place, chill as could be, like it wasn’t the feminine locker room he’d just waltzed into.
“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare through the mirror. “stole my idea and my spot?”
he snorted, leaning against the sink with his back turned to the mirror, eyes just fixed forward, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “stole your idea? babe, i’ve been rockin’ this for ages.”
“you saw it from me!” you shot back, turning around to face him, pointing at him accusingly. “i should sue for copyright or some shit.”
he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly like he was amused by your little outburst. “you can have the bunny part. i’ll keep the killer part.”
“real original,” you scoffed, turning back to the mirror, fixing a stray curl in your hair. “and what’re you even doing in the locker room? you lost or just stupid?”
“neither,” he said simply, his voice way too smug for someone who looked like he just broke into the wrong locker room. “it was either this, or i piss in a bush somewhere. decided to be classy tonight.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah, real classy, creeping around the women’s locker room.”
he leaned closer, still not turning to look in the mirror. “who says i’m creeping? maybe you just walked into my locker room.”
“oh, so now it’s your locker room too? boy, you’re bold.”
“what can i say? bunny privileges,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world.
you shook your head, turning to look at him fully now, sizing him up. he was tall, broad, the slutty suit clinging to him just right, his posture relaxed like he didn’t have a care in the world. and that hair, black and messy behind his mask—well, you’d give him one thing. he wore the costume well. too well.
“you know,” you said, leaning back against the sink next to him, crossing your arms. “if you’re tryna intimidate me, it’s not working. you’re just another bunny.”
he chuckled again, that low, almost lazy sound that somehow made your skin tingle. “maybe i’m not tryna intimidate you. maybe i’m just waiting for you to admit i look better.”
you scoffed, pushing off the sink and standing up straight, close enough now that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him. it was… annoyingly nice. “please, i wouldn’t give you that satisfaction even if you paid me.”
“we’ll... see about that?” he murmured, finally turning to face you, his body looming over yours. his mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes locked onto yours, like he could see right through the sass.
and there it was. that thing on your lower stomach that snuck up on you out of nowhere. “you really think you can handle me, bunny?” you teased.
he didn’t flinch. his lips twitched into a grin under the mask.
“handle you?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave. “baby, i’m just getting started.”
you raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer, testing him, seeing how far you could push. “then show me what you got.”
his hand was on you in a second, pulling you toward him with a firm grip on your waist, his breath hot through the mask. and suddenly, the empty locker room didn’t feel so empty anymore. his other hand slid down, grazing your thigh before hiking your skirt up. “you sure you wanna play this game?” he cooed, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
you let out a breathy laugh, your hands fisting into the fabric of his suit. “you started it.”
“yeah?” his grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, your bodies fitting together too perfectly. “then let me finish it.”
he leaned in for the kiss, but both of you realized, almost at the same time, that the stupid mask was in the way. your lips collided with the hard plastic, and for a second, it was awkward as hell—until you both burst into laughter. “yeah, that’s not gonna work,” you muttered, shaking your head.
“guess we’ll just have to improvise,” he murmured back, and before you knew it, he had spun you around, pressing your hips firmly against the cold sink. the chill of the ceramic made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the way his fingers slid under the elastic of your garter, pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back on ur skin.
“fuck,” you hissed, as the sting amde your pussy drool. he was watching you through that damn mask, his fingers traced the hem of your skirt before he flipped it over your lower back, exposing the white lacy set you’d chosen to match the whole killer bunny thing.
“fuckin’ cute,” he growled as he took in the sight of your barely-there panties and thigh-highs. “you really wore this for halloween? shit’s a fuckin’ joke,”
the degradation in his tone made your cheeks burn, you bit down on your lip, trying to keep your composure, he noticed everything.
“what’s the matter?” he asked, mock concern as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp again. “you like being called cute while i fuck you up?”
you didn’t even have time to respond before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down painfully slow, the lace barely clinging to your hips before he let them drop to your ankles. you kicked them off instinctively, your breath hitching when you saw him bend down slightly, he picked them up off the floor, turning the flimsy lace in his fingers for a second before shoving them deep into his pocket.
“gonna keep these,” he muttered, half to himself, half to you. standing up straight again. his hands, slid up your legs, spreading them just a bit more. the rough pads of his fingers brushed against the inside of your thighs, teasing you, waiting for you to beg, or break.
and god, you were close to breaking already.
one hand held your waist firmly in place, pressing you harder against the sink, while the other slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding against your wetness with an agonizing slowness.
“oh.. all soaked already?” he muttered, like he knew exactly how ruined you were just from his touch. “and we haven’t even started. you’ve been thinking about this? about me bending you over, fingers deep in this pretty little pussy?”
you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as his middle and ring fingers dipped inside, your pussy swallow him immediately, even when the skin burns a little with the stretch. his long fingers immediately finding that sweet, squishy spot, for a moment, resting the fingers there.
he kept the pads of his fingers facing down, rubbing slow, tight circles against that sensitive spot, making you clench around him. you've never been stimulated like this, it looked so different and knowing for a college boy. the sensation was enough to make your knees weak, but his grip on your hips kept you steady, held in place as he worked you open.
he leaned down, the mask still in place, but you could feel the heat of him behind you. “you hear that? hear how fucking wet you are? all for me, huh?”
you did, in fact, it echoed in the empty locker room, as you try to be quiet. but you moaned in response, your head falling forward, resting on your arms as you tried to catch your breath. every stroke of his fingers had your pussy tightening, thighs shaking, and you were half-sure you’d collapse if it weren’t for the him keeping you upright.
his other hand moving up your back just enough so he could press his lips against your bare shoulder. you felt him lift the mask just slightly, and then his mouth was on you, kissing, biting, his teeth grazing your skin in a manner that had you arching into him.
“fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered. “so sweet. but i bet you taste even better down here.”
you groaned in frustration when you realized he was still wearing that damn mask, completely blocking the possibility of him going down on you. he noticed the way you moaned extra loud, probably because you’d been imagining it—his mouth between your legs, tasting how worked up you were.
he cooed, amused by your reaction, shaking his head like you were some kind of innocent mess. “fuck baby, i’d love to, but this mask is getting in the way. you know that.” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, like it wasn’t torture for you. and god, that whimper that left your throat? pathetic. even you knew it. you rolled your hips on his fingers, desperate for something, anything to replace what you couldn’t have right now. the wet, slick sound of his fingers working into you echoed around the room, filling the space with a vulgar kind of music that had him biting his lip, watching you fall apart over nothing.
“oh, you really want it bad, huh?” he laughed, and you whined again, the sound so embarrassingly needy that it should’ve made you blush. but instead, it only made you more desperate. his teasing was too much.
“fuck,” you muttered, half-begging, and he pulled back a bit, thinking for a second before a playful smirk took over his lips.
“let’s play a game then,” he offered, your brows furrowed in confusion, but the second he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, you felt your whole body heat up in response. “we take the masks off. but,” he paused, his fingers still torturing you, making your hips twitch every time he pressed just right. “we keep our eyes closed. i’ll eat you out, i’ll do anything you want, but no peeking.”
you hummed at the idea, already thinking of how good it would feel to have him without the barrier of those stupid masks. but before you could even respond, he tilted his head, adding with a teasing lilt, “but first... i gotta fuck you. because you’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty squirming around my fingers like this.” his voice softened into something almost sweet, like he was praising you, and the way he cooed when you shyly squirmed against his hand, embarrassed by his words, had your body tightening in response. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
you were nodding before you even realized, the words barely out of your mouth before you agreed to it. the mask was yanked off, tossed to the side, and you felt him pull away slightly. you didn’t dare look back at him, though—you kept your promise, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.
you felt him shift behind you, the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants filling the locker room with a sharp, exciting edge. his fingers left you with a wet pop, and the sound made you shiver. god, you could still hear it—how soaked you were, how turned on he’d made you. your body reacted to the absence of his touch with a small gasp, but the moment you felt his warm breath near your ear again, your nerves melted away.
“don’t open your eyes,” he warned in that same serious tone, even though you could practically hear the smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep still. his fingers returned, now gripping your hips firmly, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more.
“good girl,” he murmured, guiding you to bend further over the sink. your chest pressed against the cold surface, your eyes squeezed shut, but you could feel everything. you were painfully aware of how exposed you were to him, the skirt flipped up, your wetness on full display.
the blunt head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and heavy, and you braced yourself, but he didn’t push in. instead, he slid it up, dragging it along your folds, teasing your clit and the leaking hole. the sensation had your toes curling, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “you just gonna rub it?”
he chuckled darkly, pressing the tip against your entrance again but not entering. “thought i’d take my time, make you beg a little more.”
you groaned, squirming under him, your hips moving on their own as you chased the penetration. you could feel him smiling behind you, still teasing, but his hand was firm on your hips, holding you steady as he slowly dragged his cock up and down, brushing against your clit every time. it was maddening, the way he was holding back, making you wait, making you ache for him.
“you want it that bad, hm?” he asked, and before you could even answer, he pushed in, sliding into you with a slick, deep thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs as you watch pitch black. “fuck, there it is.”
you moaned, the sudden fullness overwhelming, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as he held you in place, his cock buried deep inside. he didn’t move at first, just let you adjust to the stretch, but his hands were still moving—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he groaned low in his throat.
“ah!–don' squeeze me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips grinding into yours rolling the dick in and out of you. “taking me so well... pretty pussy devouring my cock.”
you whimpered at his praise, your body trembling with every slow stroke. he wasn’t holding back anymore, his pace picking up, his hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing light, quick circles that had you moaning loudly.
the thing was;
his eyes had been wide open the whole time.
he was practically glowing with the fact that you hadn’t recognized him at all. he knew it was you from the second you stepped into the party, making him choke on his own spit, all dressed up in that killer bunny costume, and it made him feel like he was holding onto the biggest secret ever. you had no idea who you were fucking, and that made everything ten times hotter.
as you leaned over the sink, he got a perfect view of your face blushing beneath your expertly done makeup, all those little details you’d spent hours perfecting. the way the light caught the shimmer on your cheeks, the dark eyeliner framing your eyes just right—it was beautiful. even though you planned on hiding your face with that mask for the entire night.
he pretended to keep his eyes closed, even though he could barely contain his excitement. “i hope you don't open your eyes hm? you wouldn't want to lose me eating you out, right?” he’d said with a smirk, watching as you nodded obediently. you were so good at this—everything about you, from the way you shifted on the sink to the way you were biting your lip in need, made him ache to see your true reaction when you finally figured it out.
he could feel your nervous energy as you followed his lead, trusting him completely. it was almost comical how easy it was to manipulate the situation, how horny you were, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.
“you’ve got no idea how fucking cute you moan,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he continued to thrust into you. the way you squirmed made him even harder, and he could feel his own arousal rising at the thought of keeping this secret just a little longer.
“shut up,” you whined, clearly flustered by his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. god, you were adorable. he kept it playful, teasing you even more as he leaned down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing a line up your neck as he continued to roll his hips into you. “just focus on how good you feel.”
every thrust sent a quiver through you, and he could feel you responding to him, getting wetter with every move. you were lost in it, and he was completely taken by the way your body reacted to his touch. he loved how your sounds filled the space, how you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as he picked up the pace, fucking you deeper.
“tell me how good it feels.”
“so good, you feel so good—your cock—s'big!” you breathed, and he reveled in the power he had over you. he could see the way your body squirmed beneath him, anguished for more, and it only pushed him to keep going.
“that’s right, keep saying it,” he encouraged, his fingers curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as he hit that sweet spot inside you. “i want to hear everything, since i cant see it.”
he could feel you tightening around him, your that sweet release pulsing, and just when you were about to hit that peak, he pulled out, leaving you gasping “what the fuck?!” you cried, your voice high-pitched with desperation, eyes still closed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, knowing just how good you felt, but wanting to keep you on that brink a little longer.
“patience, bunny,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you’ll get what you want.”
with that, he pushed back into you, driving deep and hard, and the sound of your moan filled the locker room. “yes! please!” you begged, fingers digging into the sink as you rocked back against him.
but again, right when you were so close, he slipped out. “no, no, don’t do that!” you whined, the desperation in your voice making him grin. “i was so close!”
“i won’t let you cum on my cock,” he said, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he watched your expression crumble. your face fell against your arms in defeat, sulking like a petulant child. “why?” you whined, the sulk evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but scoff at how adorable you looked, all flustered and desperate.
just then, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging enough to make you almost open your eyes. the sudden pressure made a strangled moan escape your throat, and he loved it.
he slowly turned you around, guiding you to sit on the cold sink. you cursed under your breath, your legs instinctively spreading wide as you positioned yourself for him.
“this is so unfair, i cant see you...” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about how you couldn’t see what he was doing. you could hear the sound of your breath quickening as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the idea of him between your legs making you almost cum on spot.
“you don’t need to see it, babe,” he said, all sultry. fuck you needed to know who he was, and with that, you could feel him get closer, his breath hot against your pussy, making you squirm.
“you’re such an ass for doing this to me,” you groaned, but deep down, you were practically begging for it, and you knew it. he laughed softly, the sound thundering in his chest as he spread your legs wider, giving himself a perfect view of your pussy, the folds puffy, and flushed, dripping beautifully.
a sudden creak from somewhere down the hallway snapped you out of the fog of pleasure, and, instinctively, you opened your eyes. it took a second to adjust, to blink away the haze clouding your vision, but then you looked down—straight at him.
and—
mr. yoon?
“shh,” he whispered, a finger pressed to his own lips, a hint of a smirk twitching as he maintained eye contact with you, even as his head dipped between your legs. you wanted to pull back, to process that your professor was there, settled on his knees in front of you in a locked room, but his mouth had already found your clit.
“oh my god,” you moan, in disbelief, in pure ecstasy. he starts sucking your clit with so hard that makes you dizzy, and your back arches instinctively, the sensations overwhelming. your mind races, but the sight of him—mr. yoon, your strict, no-nonsense professor—eating you out is enough to push you right back over the edge.
you bite your lip to stifle your cries, but it’s no use. the combination of the taboo and the sucking sends you spiraling into the orgasm, and you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue as you cum in his mouth, a whimper escaping your lips.
“holy—” you breathe, panting as he pulls away, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of you.
he raises up to kiss you, but you back away instinctively, the shock paralyzing you.
“wait, you didn’t like that it was… me?” he asks, worry flashing across his eyes.
your mind is racing. so he was the one fucking you? after the letter—oh my god. “i… i didn’t know it was you!” you manage to stammer.
he licks his cum-covered lips, that sly grin still in place. he steps back slightly, still unsure of what to say. “so… you liked it, then?”
“well, yeah, but—” you start, but the words fail you. how do you even explain this? how do you tell your professor that he just made you come like that, and it was one of the best experiences of your life?
you catch his gaze, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of worry in mr. yoon’s eyes. he's probably already imagining that expulsion letter or the scandal that’d blow up his career.
“relax,” you murmur, smirking as he watches you. “i’m not about to go blabbing to the dean or anything.” he quirks a skeptical brow, clearly not convinced yet, and you give him a playful shrug. “but only if… you get on your knees again and show me just how much you wanna keep me quiet.”
the corner of his mouth lifts. “oh, is that right?” he murmurs, and before you know it, he’s stepping forward, hands sliding around your waist as he leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“guess i’ll have to make sure you’re too busy to even think about talking,” he whispers.
[...]
monday rolls around, and it’s like the entire campus is still buzzing about the halloween party. people are dissecting every detail, trying to figure out who was behind which mask. you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to read the same damn paragraph for the fifth time, but let’s be real—there’s only one thing on your mind: mr. yoon’s dick.
jeonghan’s up at the front, leaning against his desk, teaching as if nothing happened, and you can barely keep a straight face. every time you glance up, you can’t help but picture the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands, his mouth… yeah, not the kind of thoughts you should be having in the middle of class.
the bell finally rings, snapping you out of it as everyone starts packing up. your friend pauses by the door, waiting, but just as you’re about to leave, mr. yoon clears his throat.
“y/n,” he says, there’s that hint of something under it, something only you would catch. “stay a moment, would you?”
you wave your friend off, muttering something about catching up later. she glances between the two of you and, of course, shoots you a knowing smile before shutting the door on her way out. it’s just you and jeonghan now, the room empty and quiet, his gaze pinned on you.
he raises an eyebrow, and his eyes flick towards the closed door. “should i be worried about that smile she gave you?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
you blink, caught off guard. “no! no one knows about… us,” you insist, a bit too quickly.
he scoffs, giving you this look like he’s amused but skeptical. “oh, i know that,” he says smoothly, but then he taps his finger on his desk. “but she definitely knows… about this.”
with a dramatic flourish, he slides open a drawer and pulls out the letter. your stomach drops as he lays it out on his desk for you to see, the unmistakable swoop of your handwriting there in all its glory, complete with little heart and butterfly stickers surrounding a mortifyingly filthy sentence.
“wanna feel your cock hitting the deepest part of my pussy until i can’t even remember my name.”
you freeze, face heating up instantly. oh, god. did you really write that?
he chuckles softly, watching you squirm as you avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in the stack of textbooks on his desk. you press your lips together, practically biting down to keep from making any sound, because your brain is malfunctioning.
“so,” he murmurs, “did you really mean every word?”
1K notes · View notes
the-modern-typewriter · 11 months ago
Note
Imagine a villain straight refusing to fight another member of the Hero Team just cuz his hero archnemesis is not present
"Where are they?"
"Oh, not again." The protagonist could feel a headache coming on. "Look-"
"-Are they hurt?" The villain's eyes went dark and dangerous. "Who hurt them?"
"They're fine! Oh my god."
"Then where are they?"
The protagonist definitely had a headache. "It's their day off."
"They didn't tell me they had the day off. What's wrong?"
The really concerning part was that the hero probably would tell the villain which days they were working and which they weren't. The two of them were as bad as each other! The hero was going to be unbearable when they came back and found out that the team had fought the villain without them.
"Can we just get this over with?" the protagonist tried.
"No."
The protagonist sighed. They pinched the bridge of their nose and took a few deep breaths. "Okay," they said slowly. "But you realise I'm still going to have confiscate your nightmare robot."
"It's not for you. And don't think I didn't notice you dodging the question!"
The protagonist considered their options; lies, truth, everything in between.
The villain's nightmare robot hunkered down a little more pointedly in the middle of the bridge. Several people honked their horns. It was, honestly, embarrassing for everyone involved at that point.
"Their grandma died."
"Oh no." The villain's whole face softened. "Grandma L or Grandma P?"
Of course he knew the hero's grandparents. Of course he did. "Look, about the robot-"
"-I'll reschedule," the villain said.
"I can't let you keep the robot. My boss would have my head."
"That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have flowers to send."
The protagonist's eye twitched. "If you try and walk away with it-"
"-Do you really want to traumatize this entire bridge of innocent civilians?"
"I'm sure they're traumatized having to listen to you two idiots on a weekly basis."
"I'm taking the robot. When are they back?"
"They haven't said," the protagonist said, through gritted teeth. "As you know-"
"-They'll be doing all the funeral arrangements. Yeah. You know what, give me their number. I'll text them."
"I'm not giving you their number."
"Why not?"
"It's against policy."
"I'd like to express my condolences."
The protagonist looked them dead in the face. "Mm. That sounds like a 'you' problem. I have a robot to confiscate."
The robot slammed a fist into the bridge. It wobbled precariously.
The protagonist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. They folded their arms across their chest.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" the villain snarled.
"I hate you too, don't worry."
"I should kill you."
"They'd have so much paperwork when they got back from the funeral. It would really improve their month, you killing me."
They ended up glaring at each other.
"If I give you the bloody stupid robot, will you give me their number?"
The protagonist smiled sweetly. "That's the only smart thing I've ever heard you say."
Everyone, generally, preferred it when the hero was around.
They all made sure it didn't happen again.
3K notes · View notes
multch · 2 months ago
Text
Thoughts.
Art the clown x reader [18+]
CW: actually smut \ afab masterbation
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Your boss admires your dedication to staying back late to finish off repairing most nights. What he doesn't know is affiliation with the ‘Miles County Killer’.
Who knew sewing pays in a good view…
You whipped back as the bloody black and white suit whacked you in the face. If art was anything- it certainly wasn't subtle. The smell was revolting but what did you expect? Daisies? Of course he’d smell like a dead animal, he’s a murderer for Christ's sake! Still, you would've appreciated it if he at least let you set down the jacket you had to repair first- or had the decency to cover up a little instead of walking around the studio with everything out on display.
Tonight marks the 3rd year since you had first encountered this killer clown. You worked at a humble costume shop- Often very late to scramble enough of a paycheck to pay rent, utilities, whatever, ect.
On the strange night you two met, he had walked in- completely skipping past you- and searched for some sewing supplies. He went so far as to have even checked out the staff room you had accidentally left unlocked. Regardless, he eventually waddled up to your counter and dinged the bell on your desk several times. He had waved his hands around like a maniac trying to make sense until you realised he was gesturing towards the sewing needle in your hand. If he wasn’t so charming, maybe you would’ve called the police on him right then and there.
Maybe you should’ve...
Since then, you always patched up his ripped and tattered clown costume and he would repay you by helping out around the shop when you worked late. Repairing shelves, moving boxes and pestering you incessantly while doing so. 
It was a shock when you had first discovered his more malicious side. The ”Miles county killer” plastered on every television screen for miles. You couldn’t tell what had scared you more; Art’s heinous acts or the simple fact that he seemed to spare you.
But why?
The question haunted you. Your moral compass never seemed too correct however you understood the evil that seemed to possess him was devilish. What you couldn’t understand was what a being so sinful could've thought about a seamstress that made him show not only mercy, but companionship…
Honk! Honk!
Art could’ve killed you with how well he’d scare you. They didn’t call him the ‘Terrifier’ for nothing you thought. You were just minding your business- lost in thought- until Art practically made you jump out of your skin from his infuriating infatuation with his stupid little hand horn.
He had crept right up behind you and placed himself close enough to feel the cold air escape his lungs. You didn’t know how you didn’t notice but his horn was practically touching your ear. The sound it let out was more than enough to make your eyes widen. It had startled you so much you fell backwards on your stool. Luckily for you though, Art was there to catch you.
His skin was smooth and frigid. His hands having responded by grasping your waist with his rough hands- You were accidentally pressed right up against his naked chest. 
His touch felt electric. The contrast between your human heat and his icy exposure was a feeling like no other. He helped you back up onto your seat but by then it was too late. Fuck.
Seeing him naked was one thing but feeling his bare touch was another. Your minor interest in him had easily turned into obsession over the course of the last few years. A mysterious stranger showing up out of the blue. Saturated in blood. Torn up and often mutilated.  How couldn't you be intrigued?
It felt like there was no one else in the world he treated like you.
You felt special.
Protected, even.
You tried your best to resume your repair but by the time you reached the hole by the gusset of his suit, you had lost it.
*
Maybe excusing yourself to “go to the bathroom” might’ve been a bit overkill but there was no way you wouldn’t melt in the heat that you felt just simply looking at him. His playful taunts. The way he bats his eyelashes at you. Even his disgusting black smile!
These ‘normal’ acts of his felt misconstrued into one big flirty mess. 
Despite your efforts, you were clearly just too horny to stop. Every time you think about him in this moment, you couldn’t help but remember how he’s outside right now in nothing but a mask and his flimsy little top hat. In times like this, you couldn’t help but shake your fist in the air at Art’s infamous refusal to wear anything under his suit.
(You tried to convince him once by buying him a pair of boxers, but in retaliation he had ripped out the crotch and walked out- giving you the full view of his “pencil”)
Maybe it was the sleep deprivation talking but deciding to work one out sounded great right now.
You lent up against the red tile wall of the staff bathroom. It was cold. Perfect.
Slowly fondling yourself, your hands snake around your skin. One climbing up your stomach to slip under your bra. The other sneaking down the waistband of your shorts.
God, he made you so wet from just one touch. You slid in one finger first- wincing back at your contraction around so little. It made you only more hungry for what your eyes had feasted on so often yet you had never been given the chance to taste it yourself.
Seeing it made you understand why this clown always went commando because he really was hiding away a whole balloon animal. It was BIG.
Imagining it made your mouth feel empty..
You slip in another 2 fingers. Thrusting into yourself enough to make you press hard against the wall behind you. You were so cold but inside was a warmth you wanted him to feel so badly.
Your eyes squeezed down hard. You wanted to see him. His face. His body, as he thrusted into you.
You wanted him to trap you beneath his form with his inhuman strength.
To be scared he'd rip you in half if you ran away was a major turn on for you -the idea of becoming less than a victim of his by becoming a slave for his enjoyment.
Imagining it made your pussy throb, feeling empty despite your aggressive movement…
You tried to muffle your moans but the more you indulged in your fantasy, the more you struggled to show some self restraint.
A fourth finger, then a fifth.
Pounding harder and faster into your core, you thought back to all the toys you brought reimagining them as his girth. 
Art was more than a friend to you. You ached for him nightly. You felt him in your core. You've dreamt of his touch and woken up in a hot, sticky sweat because of him.
You wanted to be honest with him but only Hell knows what he'd do to you if he didn't feel the same.
The possibilities made you salivate. Being his victim would be an indulgent death for sure..
You feel yourself very quickly feeling your release build as an air of tension fills the room. It's sickly sweet.
Rubbing your pretty little pussy until it's puffy and squirting when he's in the room outside was your tipping point.
You let out one final wince before your knees give out- causing you to crouch down on the frozen tile floor. 
You can't help but imagine it's him holding you after a scene of absolute passion.
*
It's only been 10 minutes since you had excused yourself but once you had made your way back out, Art was nowhere to be seen.
You're embarrassed to say the least but you decide to push forward with your plans for tonight. 
You turn around to close the bathroom door behind you only to find a familiar face greeting you instead.
There stood Art the clown, leaning up against the wall with a shit eating grin- All while still being fully naked.
Oh god no…
932 notes · View notes
theostrophywife · 1 year ago
Text
devil eyes.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: devil eyes by hippie sabotage.
author's note: this spicy fic is in collaboration with my darling @writingsbychlo. make sure you check out hide and seek. we've been scheming for weeks and i'm so happy to finally share this fun little story with all of you. keep an eye out for some cheeky cameos 👀
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The cardinal rule of Gryffindor House was plain and simple—never ever make a bet with the Weasley twins. 
Anyone stupid enough to do so either found themselves out a pocketful of galleons or worse, owing Fred and George a no questions asked favour that the pesky redheads could cash in at any time. 
Unfortunately, you were a little more than tipsy off of a bottle of firewhisky and bet one of the twins, Fred? George?—you couldn’t remember which ginger you’d sold your soul to—that you could easily outfly him on the pitch during a quidditch after party. After a violent hangover, the annoying git actually showed up outside of your dorm with a Firebolt in each hand. 
“Let’s see those skills in action then, Y/N.” 
On a normal day, you might’ve managed it. You were smaller and lighter than Fred, which gave you an advantage in flight, but as your head pounded and your stomach churned, you knew there was no way you were getting on that bloody broom. Though your house motto was all about being bold and brave, you weren’t reckless enough to risk it. 
Instead, you settled for a favour. 
In hindsight, you probably should’ve just stuck to death by eating shit on the quidditch pitch. It would’ve been a hell of a lot better than trying to squeeze yourself into a stupid tiny little costume that bordered on exotic dancer more than scary witch, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. You had a debt to settle. Fred made sure to remind you of that.
While the rest of your housemates headed to the Forbidden Forest, you were busy preparing for the vital role that your ginger overlords had assigned to you for the night. Since it was Fred and George’s last year, the twins were determined to solidify their status as Hogwarts legends. What better way to leave their mark than throwing a huge rager in the forest? Thus, the All Hallow’s Eve Fest was born. 
As far as your professors knew, it would be a small festival to celebrate the season complete with carnival games, enchanted rides, and cornfield mazes. All harmless fun. But the student body knew that the Weasley twins had something far more devious up their sleeves. 
From what Fred told you, the night would be full of secret passages, elaborate tricks, and actors and actresses who would add to the whole allure. You were to be one of them. Tonight, you were playing the part of a seductive sorceress who ripped out the hearts of unsuspecting men. 
You were practically made for the role, Fred joked. 
You threatened to resort to method acting and grabbed at the front of his shirt with every intent to rip his heart out of his chest. Luckily for him, George came to his rescue and tore his twin from your grasp before you could inflict damage. 
“See you at the Forbidden Forest at seven sharp,” Fred called as he tossed the costume at you. “Don’t be late, Y/N!” 
At half past six, you almost considered skipping the event altogether, but that would mean owing the twins yet another favour. It was best to get this over with as quickly as possible. Sighing, you tugged on some fishnet tights and slipped into a pair of high-heeled boots that laced all the way up to your thighs. You placed a hand on your hip, frowning at your reflection in the mirror of the prefect’s bathroom. 
“Are you trying to scare the masses or seduce them?” 
You turned around to find your friend Chloe perched up against the sink, smirking as she raised a brow at you. 
“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” you said as you snatched her tube of lipstick and painted your lips with a fiery red shade. “Know any men who wouldn’t mind having their hearts ripped out?” 
She chuckled, swinging her legs in the air. “A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first. Save the curly one for me, though.” 
“You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase of yours, then?” 
Chloe smirked and blew on her freshly painted nails. “He’s got until midnight to find me.” 
“What happens when the clock strikes twelve?” 
“Let’s just say that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house’s name and let him slither in.” 
“At least one of us is having fun tonight.” 
“Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.” 
You smirked in the mirror as you put on the final piece of the costume. The gold mask fit perfectly over your eyes and truly completed the sinister seductive sorceress part that Fred cast you as tonight. 
“I like the way you think.” 
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The promise of mischief and chaos helped to put a little pep in your step as you and Chloe parted ways. You didn’t even recognize the Forbidden Forest as you stepped foot into the haunted woods. There were colourful tents set up all around the clearing, some containing mirrored mazes and others promised fortunes readings. The combination of red lights and creepy fog gave the demented looking carnival an eerie feel. As much as you hated to admit it, the twins have really outdone themselves tonight. 
After running through the spell that conjured a hyper realistic heart that you’d be ripping out of unsuspecting victims all night, Fred directed you towards the east side of the forest. 
“Remember, it’s not a good night unless someone’s pissed themselves out of fear,” Fred reminded you for the thousandth time. 
“You’re a sadist, Forge.” 
Fred placed a hand over his heart. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Y/N.” 
“Piss off, yeah?” 
He chuckled. “I’d tell you to act scary, but you’ve got that down pat.” Fred cocked his head, examining your costume. “Although, would it kill you to show a little more leg?” 
“It won’t kill me, but I might kill you.” 
Fortunately for Fred, George plucked his twin away from your murderous clutches to start greeting their guests. By the time it was half past seven, the clearing was full of your fellow students. Despite your initial reluctance, scaring the absolute piss out of people was actually a lot of fun. As Fred predicted, you had a natural talent for it. 
The first group that wandered into your neck of the woods consisted of your fellow housemates. Dean and Seamus led the pack while Ron and Harry followed close behind. The Chosen One was as pale as Peeves. Weasley, on the other hand, looked as though he might vomit at any moment. Leading the rear, Hermione shook her head and marched forward. Neville matched her pace as he nervously darted through the twisted roots choking up the forest floor. 
You waited until their group passed through the twisted willow tree before jumping out. Dean screamed in surprise while Seamus scrambled away from you. Thanks to Fred’s little trick, your hand went right through Finnigan’s shirt which caused him to shriek in terror. With a twisted smile, you yanked the hyper realistic heart out of his chest and cackled in delight. 
At the sight of the beating organ in your hands, Neville nearly passed out. Dean hauled Seamus to his feet while Ron and Harry hightailed it out of there. Hermione chuckled, shaking her head at the boys. 
“Well, they lasted longer than I thought they would,” she said. “Stuck out here for the night, Y/N?” 
“Unfortunately,” you replied as you vanished the dry blood with a quick spell. “Anyone you want me to scare the absolute wits out of tonight, Mione?” 
She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I don’t have any scores to settle.” You nodded, wishing her a good rest of the night. 
Hermione bid you the same and started to follow the direction that the boys fled to. Before she disappeared through the thicket, a familiar, drawling voice called her back. 
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the golden girl.” 
Draco Malfoy appeared in the clearing. There was skull makeup on his face, but the shock of platinum blonde hair gave away his identity almost instantly. He stalked towards Hermione with that arrogant aristocratic smirk, completely oblivious that you were lurking in the dark. 
“All alone in the woods, little lion?”
Hermione’s gaze flickered towards you. A smile curved against her lips as her honey eyes glimmered with mischief. “On second thought…” 
The golden girl hadn’t even finished the rest of her sentence before you yanked Draco by the wrist and pushed him up against the weeping willow. The blonde blinked, his silver eyes full of surprise and terror as you raked your nails along the column of his throat. The red varnish looked like blood against his pale skin.
“All alone in the woods, little serpent?” 
Draco steeled himself. “And who are you supposed to be?” 
You smirked. “I’ll be whoever you want, darling.” Malfoy shivered as you pressed a palm against his chest. He leaned into your touch, his heart beating erratically underneath your fingertips. For Godric’s sake, he was truly making this way too easy. “As long as you give me your heart.” 
Never in his life had Draco Malfoy looked so terrified. The colour drained from his face as you reached through his perfectly tailored button down shirt, fingers slipping through the expensive silk material. You laughed maniacally and caressed his cheek. 
“Brace yourself, sweetheart. This might hurt a bit.” 
Without warning, you yanked his heart out of his chest. Draco stared in utter horror as blood dripped from your fingertips. The tell-tale heart pounded in your palm,  the mess of flesh and tissue covering your arm with carnage. To Malfoy’s credit, he didn’t scream or flee like your housemates. Instead, the Slytherin appeared rather impressed. 
“The spell work’s not bad.” Draco said with a smirk. He lifted your palm and examined the heart. “A word of advice, though. I would’ve turned the heart black. It would’ve been more realistic.” 
Just as you rolled your eyes, a deep, husky voice pulled your attention away from the blonde. 
“Who even knew Draco Malfoy had a heart?” 
You turned to find a gathering of serpents in the clearing. They were all wearing matching skull makeup, but you could clearly tell who each male was. The gang of Slytherins were pretty infamous and easily recognizable. The curly headed one had to be Mattheo Riddle. His gaze darted through the trees as though he expected someone to appear out of the thick fog. You had to hand it to her, Chloe had the Slytherin eating right out of her hand. 
The one beside him stood a little bit taller and though his face was smeared in the same white and black paint, there was no mistaking Enzo Berkshire’s lopsided grin and soft hazel eyes. Flanking either side of him was Blaize Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, the it-couple of your year, which only left one other serpent to account for. The male that had spoken earlier had to be none other than Theodore Nott. 
You turned your attention back to him, squinting in the faint light as he prowled towards you. Theodore was considerably taller than the rest of his friends, but not in the awkward scrawny way that most boys his age were. He was slim yet strong, sculpted by years of playing quidditch. The makeup only accentuated his high cheekbones and his ridiculously sharp jawline, but it was his eyes—those dead, cold eyes that had half the school swooning over him that gave you pause. 
Theodore grinned as you released your hold on Draco. He cocked his head, arrogance and swagger radiating off of him in waves as his eyes roamed your body. There was something unsettling about his gaze—Theodore’s eyes were neither green nor blue, but rather some undiscovered shade that reminded you of watercolours bleeding into each other. 
The manner in which he ogled you was shameless. He drank in your tight corset, the fishnet tights, and the thigh high boots like you were a painting on the walls of a gallery, pinned up for his viewing pleasure. You held your head high, completely undeterred by his stare. Besides, two could play that game. 
You schooled your features into indifference. “Who are you supposed to be? The Pumpkin King?” 
Theodore flashed you a charming smile that you had no doubt made the rest of the student population swoon. “I’ll be your Jack if you agree to be my Sally, sweetheart.” 
As slowly as possible, you dragged your gaze from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Theodore smirked as you surveyed him just as he had done to you a few moments ago. Staying true to his Slytherin roots, Theodore wore a black suit and matching freshly pressed trousers, but the silk shirt underneath was maroon—Gryffindor colours. Your house colours. 
“Brave of you to wear rival colours.” 
“I thought you’d be happy,” Theodore drawled. “Better to hide the blood when you rip my heart out, darling.” 
“You think I care about making a mess?” you said with a smirk. “That’s half of the fun.” 
Theodore flashed you a smile that spelled nothing but trouble. “Oh, I think you’re just my kind of witch.” 
“Oi, Notty boy! If you’re done flirting, we’re heading to the mirror maze.”
Blaise was regarded with a wave of dismissal. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” 
Hermione lingered by the edge of the clearing. She raised a brow in a silent question. You merely shrugged. Theodore Nott wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. 
“Give Longbottom my apologies, Mione. And a calming draught,” you added as an afterthought. “The poor bloke will need it.”
Your friend smiled. “Sure thing. Shall I tell the twins that you’re…indisposed?” 
“No, let my wardens sweat it out a bit.”
Hermione chuckled and waved you off. The rest of the Slytherins followed shortly after, leaving you alone with Theodore. You locked eyes for a moment before you spun on your heel and walked off in the opposite direction. The brunette stared after you in stunned silence before you looked over your shoulder and smirked at him. 
“Well, are you coming or not, Theodore?” 
The sounds of the leaves crunching below his boots indicated that Theodore had snapped out of his stupor and was catching up to you. He did so rather quickly, thanks to those long legs of his. One of his strides was equal to three of yours. It took little to no effort on his part before the two of you were walking side by side. 
“You know who I am, then?”
You shrugged. “It’s not hard to tell you and your cronies apart.” 
Theodore grinned lazily and cocked his head at you. He squinted against the faint light, no doubt trying to ascertain a hint of your identity from underneath the gold mask. 
“It hardly seems fair. You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are.”
You smirked at him. “I’m Sally, remember?” 
“Does that mean I’m your Jack?” 
“For the night, at least.”
He seemed content with that answer. “Where are we headed now, little witch?”
“The Graveyard.”
Theodore appeared slightly baffled, but brooked no argument as you led him through a thicket of trees. You chuckled at the sight of him following you blindly. “A strange girl just told you she was leading you to a graveyard and you didn’t even bat an eyelash. I thought you Slytherins were all about self-preservation?”
“I have no intention of preserving myself tonight,” Theodore drawled. “Feel free to ruin me, Sally.”
“I suppose you think you’re rather charming, don’t you Jack?”
“I don’t think, darling. I know.” 
You rolled your eyes and walked toward the lone tombstone in between the weeping willows. Theodore watched as you waved your wand and muttered an incantation. The ground rumbled beneath your feet, clearing the leaves until an ominous set of stairs appeared in front of the grave. 
Theodore peered over your shoulder. “I suppose you won’t be telling me what’s down there, will you Sally?” 
“Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll hold your hand in case you get scared.” 
It was meant to be a joke, but Theodore took the jest to heart and slipped his hand into yours. You smirked as you intertwined your fingers. If he thought a little hand holding would bother you, then Theodore had no idea what he was in for tonight. 
“Lead the way, love.”
You led him down the steps, plunging into darkness the lower you went. Theodore took the opportunity to press up behind you and kept a hand on your waist as the two of you descended. He was so close that the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with cigarette smoke assaulted your senses.  
A red hazy light flashed up ahead. The pounding music and excited chatter of your fellow classmates grew louder as you and Theodore were transported into the speakeasy. The bar was stocked with alcohol, shots and cocktails floating mid-air with themed drinks like Merlin’s Mourge-a-rita, Witches’ Brew, and Cauldron Colada. You hailed Parvati down who was apparently serving as the bartender tonight along with her twin sister. 
“We’ll take two El Diablos.” 
Theodore raised a brow, but didn’t protest as Parvati presented the shots in front of you. Your fellow housemate also floated a salt shaker and a bowl of limes on the counter. You sprinkled salt on the back of your hand and grabbed a lime wedge in preparation. Theodore did the same, minus the lime. 
“Bottoms up, Jack.” 
“Cheers, Sally.”
After licking the salt off of your hand, you clinked your glass against Theodore’s and knocked the drink back. The El Diablo certainly lived up to its name. The drink was a combination of tequila mixed with pepperup potion and topped off with a hint of cayenne. Needless to say, it had a bit of a kick. 
With a slight grimace, you bit down on the lime, which helped with the unpleasant aftertaste. Theodore caught your wrist and held your gaze as he directed your hand up to his mouth. He mimicked your move and sucked hard on the lime, his lips brushing your fingers as he licked the juice from where it had dribbled onto your palm. 
A shiver snaked down your spine. You may be a shameless flirt, but Theodore was definitely matching your energy. 
“I can’t believe the twins built a speakeasy down here,” Theodore said. He leaned in close so you could hear him over the music. “I’m almost impressed.” 
“I’ll tell my wardens you said that.” 
“You keep calling them that,” Theodore said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You wouldn’t mean that one of the weasels is your ball and chain in a literal sense, right?”
“Are you jealous, Jack?” 
He smirked. “I just want to know which twin I’m sending to the infirmary tonight.”
You chuckled. “I’m not dating Fred or George. I just owe them a favour. Speaking of which, I’ve got some men to scare. Be a good boy and wait for me here.”
Theodore shook his head. “Oh, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m yours for the night, remember?” He toyed with the laces on your corset and pulled you towards him, your breasts pressing against the hard muscles of his chest. “I have a proposition for you, little witch.”
You quirked a brow, which made Theodore chuckle darkly. “Not that kind of proposition, principessa.” He twirled the lace between his fingers. “I say we terrorise the student body together.” 
“You want to help me do my job?”
Theodore shrugged. “Why not? We can be partners in crime.” 
You cocked your head. It certainly would be more fun to have someone else partake in your chore. Curling your fingers around his maroon tie, you pulled Theodore down to your level. His gaze flickered to your mouth and you couldn’t help the thrill that buzzed in your veins as you watched him swallow thickly. 
“You’ve got a deal, Jack.” 
As it turns out, Theodore was an excellent partner in crime. The two of you concocted a rather effective formula to inflict fear upon your classmates. The Red Room soon became your hunting grounds. In the creepy blood soaked maze, Theodore chased groups through the enchanted room while you lurked in the shadows. As soon as they thought they were safe from skull face, the groups were then led right into your trap. 
You could hardly count the amount of people you scared shitless tonight. 
Eventually the two of you returned to the bar for more drinks. You ordered another round of shots, which Theodore accepted without question. By the time you were six shots deep, the tequila had annihilated any sense of personal space between you. Theodore leaned down to take a sip of your drink. 
“Trying to get me drunk, love?”
“That depends,” you quipped back. “How many drinks do I need to plie you with until you agree to dance?” 
“With you? I’d say yes while stone cold sober.”
You grinned. “Come on, then.”
Theodore allowed you to guide him away from the bar and into the throng of your fellow classmates. It was total debauchery out on the dance floor. The music pulsed seductively as bodies writhed to the hypnotic beat and the red light bathed the crowd in a sinister glow as the alcohol loosened both limbs and lips. 
The warmth of the tequila made you feel flushed, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Theodore’s hands on your waist. With your back pressed against his chest, you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. You rocked side to side and grinded against him, which caused his grip to tighten. Theodore’s fingers dug into your sides as you wrapped an arm around his neck and arched your back against his chest. 
His dark lashes fluttered as your lips brushed against the column of his throat. Theodore shuddered when you nipped at his skin. A low groan escaped his mouth as he tried to chase your lips, but you dropped low to the floor and left him in a daze. 
Theodore caught your wrist and pressed you flush against him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s not polite to tease?’ 
“Do I look like someone who gives a shit about being polite?” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You should know that I have a terrible habit of playing with my food.” 
Theodore smirked and fisted your hair between his fingers. “And you should know that I have no qualms about being toyed with. As long as you promise to devour me later, little witch.”
You brushed up against him and felt his hardness rub against you. “Cross my heart and hope to die. I’ll get my taste of you tonight.” He inhaled sharply as you tugged him down to you. His eyes fluttered, fully expecting a kiss. “But before that, would you be a dear and get me another drink? I’m absolutely parched.”
A pained expression dawned on his handsome features. Theodore was fully aware of the little cat and mouse game you were playing, but he seemed keen to play along. If only to please you. 
“You’re killing me, bella,” Theodore said with a sigh. He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek, a promise of what was to come. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, yeah?” 
“Don’t take too long,” you said with a wink. “I might get impatient.”
With that, Theodore hustled back to the bar. You chuckled at the sight. Your amusement only grew as Chloe approached. As soon as she was within reach, you tugged your friend onto the dancefloor. She happily obliged, the moves flowing naturally. The two of you were known to bring the whole house down at countless parties. 
“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?” 
“No, but he’s close.” Chloe shouted over the music, motioning to the bar where her boyfriend was currently standing. Mattheo, Theo, and Draco were talking in hushed whispers, looking rather serious. 
“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.”
The poor Slytherin was chasing after some unsuspecting blonde girl who looked a lot like Chloe from behind. A mischievous grin curved against her lips as she watched Theodore weave his way back to you, toting a drink in each hand. 
“Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” you replied with a coy smile. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.���
“My lips are sealed.” 
With a wink, Chloe slipped away just as Theodore returned. He handed you a drink and watched as you sipped it slowly. Theodore downed his cocktail in less than a minute and tossed his cup into the nearest trash can. 
“Impatient, aren’t we?” 
“You promised a taste.” 
You smirked, chugging the rest of your drink and wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb. Theodore watched intently as you set the empty cup down. “Come and get it, then.”
The words had barely left your lips before Theodore kissed you. There wasn’t a hint of timidness in the way that his lips crashed against yours, a soft moan escaping his mouth as he tilted your chin up to gently bite down on your lower lip. You gasped when he nipped at you, leaving your mouth open for his tongue to slide into. 
The taste of him was intoxicating as he massaged your tongue against his, licking the roof of your mouth before he kissed you sloppily, open-mouthed and positively obscene despite the crowd dancing around you. What started out as a kiss turned into a full blown make out session in the middle of the dance floor. Neither one of you felt a hint of shame as you shared another filthy kiss. With a groan, Theodore’s hands roamed along your back and squeezed when he reached your ass. 
“Fuck, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 
You smirked, already equipped with a salacious response when your gaze caught on the clock behind the bar. It was nearly midnight and the twins had instructed all the actors and actresses to gather in the main entrance for the grand finale. Fred and George would have a fit if they found out you had abandoned your post. The twats would probably demand another favour out of you. There was no way you were going to shackle yourself to the Weasleys a second time. 
“Shit,” you hissed under your breath. “It’s almost midnight. I have to get back.”
“I thought you were my Sally,” Theodore drawled. He looked slightly dazed, his curly hair dishevelled and his lips swollen from your kisses. “Not Cinderella.”
“I’m being serious, Nott. If I’m not back before the clock strikes twelve, I’ll have to owe the twins another favour.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you back in time. Besides, if we’re playing into this whole Cinderella fantasy then let’s skip to the good part and see if it fits and by it I mean me inside of you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine. Before you knew it, you were dragging Theodore out of the speakeasy. The two of you climbed the steps three at a time, nearly tumbling over one another as you raced up the stairs. The woods were dark and foreboding, but provided plenty of cover for your illicit activities. 
You tugged Theodore along by his tie and he pressed you against an oak tree, the bark biting at your exposed skin. You were kissing again in no time and the sounds the two of you made were downright lewd. Theodore reached for your mask, but you swatted his hand away. 
“The mask stays on.” 
He smirked. “I didn’t think it was possible to get any harder, but you seem to be an overachiever.”
“I aim to please.” 
Theodore smirked against your neck as he hiked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. His hand wandered underneath your skirt and those deft fingers of his teased along your soaked core. 
“You’re so fucking wet, little witch.” You groaned as he plunged his fingers between your folds. “Such a pretty cunt too. Will you clench this tightly around my cock when I fuck you?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” you whispered huskily. 
A stream of curses fell from Theodore’s lips, but not in a language that you understood. Italian, perhaps. Whatever it was, it sounded sexy as hell. You unbuckled his belt and slipped your hand into his trousers, feeling his hard length twitch in response. A choked groan rumbled through his chest as you pumped him between your fingers. 
You swallowed thickly. Theodore was long and hard, his cock almost too big to fit inside of you. But you always did like a challenge. 
Those watercolour eyes that had been pinned on you all night turned positively dark. The strange blue and green shade that you had grown familiar with was now swallowed by darkness, leaving Theodore with a gaze that would’ve rivalled Medusa’s. You felt it searing into your skin as you sank down on his length, biting your lip as he stretched your walls. 
“Merda,” Theodore cursed. “So fucking tight. C’mon pretty girl, that’s it. I know you can take all of me.” 
You shuddered a breath as he pushed inside. Theodore watched with hungry eyes as you took him inch by inch. It seemed never ending. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 
Tears pricked the back of your eyes. The stretch was an equal measure of pain and pleasure. You could feel every ridge and vein on his cock and your pussy hugged around him as he throbbed inside of you. 
Theodore caressed your cheek. “It’s alright, little witch. I know you can take it. I’m yours, remember? Your partner-in-crime. So use me, dolcezza. You’re in charge tonight. Just set the pace and I’ll follow.”
The reassuring words encouraged you to slowly grind against him. Theodore hissed as you lifted your hips until only his tip was inside of you. His mouth was hot and needy against yours as you grinded down to take all of him again.
“Che cazzo,” Theodore murmured as he bottomed out.
The drag of his cock was delicious. He filled you to the hilt and pressed his hand on your stomach to feel his length buried deep inside of you. The tightness it caused made the both of you groan. You rolled your hips and set a steady pace, lowering onto his cock over and over again while you whimpered.
“Oh, fuck. It feels like you’re splitting me apart.”
Theodore groaned as he sucked and nipped at your neck. The heat of his tongue was everywhere, leaving marks on your skin in his wake. It would be a pain in the ass to cover, but you didn’t care as you continued to ride him.
“Salazar fucking save me, your pussy feels like heaven.”
Theodore chuckled darkly as you clenched around him. He untied the laces of your corset impatiently, freeing your breasts from the constraints. Theodore brushed his thumb over your hard nipples before taking one into his mouth. He watched with eager eyes as you moaned, sucking and swirling his tongue while you picked up the pace. 
“You look so pretty when you fuck me,” Theodore hummed as he flicked his tongue against your stiffened peaks. “Ride me harder, little witch. That’s it. Yeah, roll your hips just like that. Good girl.”
“Gods, I didn’t expect you to have such a filthy mouth,” you said with a low laugh. “You’re always so quiet in class.”
“So we have a class together,” Theodore said as he thrusted upwards to match your pace. “I thought you sounded familiar.” 
“Is that so?” 
“It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite grasp it. I guess I’ll just have to pay extra attention to all the Gryffindor girls in my classes.”
“I’m a Gryffindor? How do you figure that?”
“Besides your entire personality? You seemed friendly with Granger and though you complain about the twins, I’d wager that you’re mates as well.” 
“Smart and handsome,” you said with a smirk.  “You’re full of surprises aren’t you, Jack?” 
Theodore smirked and thrusted sharply inside of you. “You have no idea, Sally.”
“I thought I was in charge tonight,” you said in a stern voice. 
“You are, but I think you could use a little encouragement. You’re holding back.” 
You circled your hips before lifting them and slamming back down. Theodore’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. 
“Does it feel like I’m holding back?” 
“I’m a patient man, but if you keep toying with me like this I might just have to fuck that attitude right out of you, little witch.” 
You tilted your chin up and smirked. “So do it.” 
All that bravado left your body as Theodore rutted into you. He drove his cock deep within you, stretching your walls until you were clawing at his back. Theodore grunted as you squelched and squeezed around his length. His pace was relentless and punishing, guiding your hips to bounce on his cock while you moaned in pleasure. 
“Oh gods, right there.” You cried out, burying your face into his neck. 
You inhaled his scent greedily and sank your teeth into his flesh. Theodore slowed his pace and chuckled darkly when you whined. 
“What’s the matter, little witch? Can’t take a dose of your own medicine?” 
“Don’t stop,” you whimpered. “Keep going. I’m so close.” 
“Beg me, darling. Tell me how desperate you are. I want to hear those pretty little words.” 
Theodore halted his movements, his tip barely inside of you as he teased along your folds. He held your hips in place so you couldn’t sink down to take more of him. Usually, you were used to taking charge, but the way he put you in your place had you creaming all over him. Needless to say, you weren’t above begging at this point. 
“Please, I need you. Fuck me harder. Give me everything. I can take it. Every fucking inch.”
“Merda, you’re fucking filthy. Begging for my cock like a good little slut. Brace yourself, bella. Remember that you asked for this.”
A whimper fell from your lips as Theodore bucked into your cunt. His cock impaled you, splitting you apart and knocking the very breath from your lungs as he fucked you roughly against the tree. He squeezed your ass, keeping a firm grip to secure you in place as he jackknifed into you. 
“Oh gods,” you sobbed, raking your nails underneath his shirt and dragging red lines all along his back. Theodore hissed as you clawed at him, thrusting so hard that your teeth rattled every time he drove into you. “Fuck, it’s too much.” 
Theodore grabbed your chin harshly. “No, it’s not. You begged to be fucked, now take my cock like the perfect little whore I know that you are, yeah?”
You nodded. Words escaped you at the moment. The filth coming out of Theodore’s mouth aroused you in more ways than one. Who knew that the silent Slytherin fucked like a god?
A stray tear rolled down your cheek. Theodore licked it away and chuckled as you whimpered. “Are you crying, sweetheart? Such pretty little sobs. Don’t worry, you’ll get your reward. You’ve been such a good girl for me and good girls get to cum.”
At that, Theodore rubbed your clit and pushed you over the edge. His fingers were magic against your sensitive bundle of nerves and it wasn’t long before you were clenching around him, making his hips stutter as the orgasm blindsided you. A scream echoed through the woods and it was only when Theodore covered your mouth when you realised that the sound had come from you. 
“Fuck,” Theodore cursed, dropping his forehead to yours. “Merda, I’m not gonna last much longer. Not when that pretty pussy of yours is milking me dry. Oh gods, I’m gonna cum—“
You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist as his body seized underneath you. Theodore bit into your flesh as he came, leaving a bruised purple mark on your collarbone. You had never seen anyone look as beautiful as he did when he lost control, lips parted, cheeks flushed, devil eyes rolling back as the orgasm thoroughly rocked him. 
The stillness that settled over the Forbidden Forest was almost eerie. The two of you looked at one another, dazed and confused as though you weren’t even sure who or where you were at the moment. Through all your romps, no one has ever put your body to the test like Theodore has. You could tell by his intense gaze that he likely felt the same. 
Theodore set you down gently. Compared to how rough he was a few moments ago, the contrast almost made you laugh. You heard the chime of the clock echo a beat later. 
Fuck. That only gave you a minute to sprint through the woods and make it back in time before the twins reached your clearing. You frantically re-tied your corset and straightened the skirts of your dress. Theodore was busy buckling his belt. 
“I have to go,” you said as you shrugged your robe back on. “I’ll see you around, Jack.”
“Wait, you never told me your name!” 
But Theodore was too late. You were already gone by the time he looked up. He sighed and started making his way back to the festivities. The last chime of the clock indicated that it was midnight. He could only hope that you’d gotten back in time. 
Theodore paused as something crunched underneath his feet. He peered down at the forest floor and found something golden peeking out amongst the leaves. With a smile, he picked up the golden mask. 
It looks like his mystery girl left him a clue after all. 
Theodore would find his Sally. 
He’d make sure of it. 
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Theodore couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited to attend class. 
After the All Hallow’s Eve party, he’d done everything he could to dig up information on his mystery girl. Theodore had even gone as far as to interrogate the Weasley twins, but as usual, the redheaded menaces were unnecessarily difficult about it. 
“Sorry, mate, but we don’t reveal the identity of our actors and actresses,” George said with a shit-eating grin. 
Fred nodded in agreement. “Confidentiality and all that. We wouldn’t want to go around spilling trade secrets. It’s bad for business.”
The weasels stayed mum even after Theodore offered them a ridiculous amount of money to reveal his mystery girl’s identity. Unfortunately, his desperation only served to intrigue the twins and the sadistic little gits seemed to derive pleasure in seeing Theodore grow more and more frustrated. 
“Best of luck to you, Nott,” Fred said with a little smile. “If you do end up finding her, you’ll need all the fortune you can get. She’s a feisty thing, that one.” 
“I know,” Theodore said with a glare. “That’s exactly why I want to find her.”
George chuckled. “Godric bless your heart.”
If the twats weren’t his main weed suppliers, Theodore would’ve punched their teeth in. Despite Fred and George’s general uselessness, he was in a good mood when Monday rolled around. Equipped with the knowledge that his mystery girl was in one of his classes, he made sure to pay extra attention to every Gryffindor girl. It was only a matter of time before he found her. 
“You’re smiling,” Enzo commented as he caught up to Theodore in the courtyard. “What’s happened? Did my cousin fall down the moving stairs again?”
Theodore snorted. “Even better, Berkshire. I’m going to find my mystery girl today and you’re going to help me.”
“How?” 
“You’re friends with literally everyone. Someone has to know who she is.”
“Hmm, come to think of it Mattheo’s girlfriend is good friends with a lot of the Gryffindor girls. I bet she’d know who it is.” 
“Good, let’s start there. Where is Chloe anyways?” 
“Probably in the Great Hall with Mattheo.”
The two of them headed over to where the rest of the castle was currently having breakfast. Enzo made a beeline for their usual table where Mattheo, Blaise, and Draco were seated, but Thedore didn’t follow. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Chloe seated with a girl who looked vaguely familiar to him. Theodore was sure that you had Charms together. More than that, you were wearing a red and gold tie. A Gryffindor. 
Theodore inched closer, skirting around the edges to listen in on the conversation. 
“How was your weekend?” 
Theodore froze. He knew that voice. It was husky and seductive and sounded exactly like how his mystery girl had when she’d whispered in his ear. 
It was you. 
It had to be. 
“It was good,” Chloe responded with a grin. “Really good.” 
“Mattheo found you after all, then?” 
“He did and suffice to say he liked the second part of my costume more than the first.” 
You laughed in response. Chloe leaned in and lowered her voice. “What about you? You disappeared from the speakeasy, so I’m assuming I’m not the only one who had an eventful night.”
“It was fine.” 
“Just fine?” 
You flushed, biting your bottom lip. “It was the best lay of my life.” 
Theodore smirked. So it wasn’t just him, then. The sex had truly been something else entirely. He had been confident that you must’ve felt the same way in the moment, but doubt crept in since you’d run off so abruptly. Now he had confirmation and it was satisfying as hell to hear you say it. 
“There you are,” Enzo said from behind him. “I brought Mattheo, so we can ask Chloe about your mystery girl.”
“That little witch of yours really put a spell on you, huh, Nott?” Mattheo teased. “Let’s go, then. Maybe my girl can help.”
Chloe looked up and smiled as Mattheo leaned down to kiss her. You glanced up at the exact moment that Theodore came into view. He clocked the way your cheeks flushed as your gaze landed on him.
“You know my boyfriend,” Chloe said. You nodded at Mattheo who shot you a polite smile back. “That’s Enzo and Theo. Boys, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet the boys.” 
Theodore took your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles. “Hello, Sally.” 
You smiled back in return. “Hello, Jack.”
Chloe’s eyes widened, immediately taking stock of the situation. Mattheo and Enzo were slower to catch on, but luckily she ushered the boys away. 
“We’ll give you two some privacy.” 
You tried not to laugh as Chloe winked behind Theodore’s back. 
“I found you.” 
“So it seems.” 
“I guess you won’t be needing this anymore,” he said as he pulled out the golden mask from his backpack. Theodore’s intense gaze swept over you, cataloguing your features. 
“You kept it,” you said with a small smile. 
“I would’ve returned it sooner if you hadn’t left in such a haste after we—“
“Fucked in the woods?” 
You were amused to find Theodore blushing. “I was going to say hooked up, but I suppose that’s another way to put it. Anyways, you left in such a hurry. You didn’t even give me your name.”
“Didn’t really think you wanted me to stay.”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t been about to think about anything else since that night. You’ve taken over my thoughts. It’s fucking maddening.” Theodore caressed your cheek and tilted your chin so he could look at you better. “My mystery girl. You’re more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever imagined.” 
“Well, you have the real thing now. It’s your move, Jack.”
Theodore shook his head. “No, not Jack. Theo. That’s the name you’ll be screaming from now on. After I take you out on a proper date.”
You raised a brow. “What makes you think I’ll say yes?”
The devilish grin on his face sent shivers down your spine. “You’re really going to turn down the best lay of your life?” Your eyes widened, which made him smile even wider. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who can sneak up on people. So, what do you say?” 
“Pick me up at eight. Don’t be late, Theo.” 
Theodore winked. “It’s a date, Y/N.”
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TAGLIST
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anonymous-existences · 10 days ago
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DCxDP Prompt 15 :
Danny/Wes idea, Demon Sibs Combined into it.
Short prompt and vague stuff. If I had to motivation I'll do some continuation to it but picture this.
DanyalDanny knows he's adopted, always had known especially since he was adopted as the Fenton's were out and about looking for ghosts back when he was merely 6, they found him all battered and bloodied up and immediately took him in as their own, Jazz was very pleased with a new little brother and she became her reason to stay and purpose to protect.
The Fentons aren't the best but they loved Danny, Danny could say the same as he was shocked to see their reactions when he first called them 'Mom' and 'Dad'. They burst into tears and pulled Danny into a love filled bear hug, Danny could say it was the most love he has ever felt.
But Danny, he would never talk about his past, no, no, he claimed amnesia. He felt subtle guilt when he lied about it but now it felt insignificant to worry about, after becoming a Halfa due to the portal accident, he found himself in the middle of simping A-listers and a conspiracy theorist who immediately clocked him upon sight(how did he do that??).
Wes Weston always had the affinity of finding out someone's identity behind a mask, he always voiced out these thoughts knowing no one would believe him but at times it can still get pretty annoying. Danny Fenton caught his eye, he never paid attention to the boy but he kept a secret tab on him, the way he walked felt stuff and subtly regal, the way he talked had a hidden southeast accent(?) that Wes couldn't pinpoint where came from.
Considering the Fact that Danny was adopted... Completely out of nowhere, the Fenton's picked up a boy from somewhere in the world and adopted him without question but Wes doesn't think that's suspicious since the Fentons ARE the Fentons after all.
What kept his tabs, and everything else come to life is when Phantom appeared, Kyle Weston, his brother refused to help and exempted himself from Wes's spiraling Theories piling up.
Wes immediately clocked Phantom as Danny, It's too obvious for Christ's sake, Fenton? PHANTOM? It was so original and unoriginal at the same time, Wes still forced his brother to listen and at some point Wes noticed Dash stopped bullying Danny after having Dash listen through Wes's Theoretical Rant.
Dash and Kyle want nothing to do with Danny, they don't have him, they just suspect Wes is secretly gay and his love language is comparing his crush to the awesome town vigilante ghost.
Everything is as normal as everyday until the GIW found out about Danny's identity, The Fenton Parents and Jazz weren't there when they took Danny away for 'Examination'. So Wes did what any normal person would do, pull out the exact blueprint and hidden passageway of The GIW Facility Base and Bust Danny out of there without getting the already wounded and partially open boy even more injured and in pain.
The Fenton parents did everything they could do to hide Danny as soon as they got home after Wes had contacted them somehow, they love their baby boy so much, He's their Danny, their Daniel, their Phantom.
Wes dragged Kyle into the mess, Not that Kyle had any options and thus. With the help of Jazz who was in Gotham for college, The Fenton Parents stayed behind to keep the GIW in Amity, And Wes along with his Begrudgingly Dragged Along Older Brother Kyle, Is heading to Gotham.
Did Danny anticipate that Wes and Kyle both have truth altering possibly also Reality Warping curse that they bend to their will, but then again sometimes they're too stupid and too human to use these curses to their advantage.
They arrived in Gotham and at first everything was Normal, Danny became the Handyman of their free and he'd fix anything for food and any of the sort. Especially candies for children who wanted their toys fixed, Wes was the weird quiet one who was deemed tough on the outside, soft on the inside because of how oddly kind he still was despite his first impressions.
Kyle was the chill one who was denser than rock in most occasions and jazz was the oldest one who was raising them(along with Kyle) as well as pursuing psychology.
Now here comes more of the DC part :
Wes starts to theorize about the bats, same old same old, Danny listens to them intently as Wes makes pretty good points about the identities(Except Bruce Wayne as Batman, cuz that guys a Total Himbo Billionare.)
Danny and Robin meet by pure coincidence. Danny recognizes him immediately, Damian impulsively taking off his mask and charging at Danny, Both knew they were not Clones of each other and Danny comes home with an unmasked Robin and not any of them feels that this is something out of place.
Going as far as serving Damian a plate of food and Danny introducing the Weston Siblings and Jazz. Jazz immediately mentally adopting Damian because he's her baby brother Twin thus he's just another little chick of hers.
For a while Robin takes time to have dinner on their house, Alfred obviously instantly notices but doesn't mention it Infront of others but merely tells Damian to stay safe and eat well.
The Batfam slowly notice the change of demeanor, Damian slowly getting less aggresive and acting softer and perhaps a tad bit too innocent like for their comfort, they finally follow him to the place he frequents and sneaks off to every night and they see him take off his mask and hug someone who's the exact replica of him, just blue eyes.
They see him drop his guard and become comfortable by their small dining table that fits 5 perfectly. If it weren't for his current costume at the time then he would have looked like a normal civilian boy.
Shenanigans Ensue. You guys can take it from here ✨
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lostalioth · 2 months ago
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𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧
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→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.
→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader
→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying
→ a/n: kinktober 08
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Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.
However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.
“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.
“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.
“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.
“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.
“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.
Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.
“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.
“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.
Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.
”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.
You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.
He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.
“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is quickly behind you nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.
Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.
“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.
Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.
“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.
You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed the pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.
The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.
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→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.
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peachesofteal · 11 months ago
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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄Simon has himself a merry little Christmas - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge
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Simon opens his eyes to an empty bed on Christmas morning.
His breath catches in his chest when his hand slides across the sheets, instinctively seeking the warmth of your body, only to discover your side of the bed empty. 
His rational, tactical, professional mind tells him you've probably just gotten up with the baby. That for some reason, he slept too deeply and didn't wake up when she did this morning, like he usually does. You're in the guest room, Emmaline's room, now, or in the kitchen. Maybe you're already drinking your first cup of coffee. You're fine. The baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. 
But his heart... his heart screams. Terror ices his veins, adrenaline and fear taking control of his gross motor skills, legs twisting beneath him as he stumbles out of bed and races for the door. They’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine-
“Sweetheart?” His voice betrays him. He sounds stressed, anxiety piquing, frantically turning the corner into the kitchen. Not again, he can’t do this again, this can’t happen again… 
It’s empty. The front door is still locked, and so is the patio’s, twinkling Christmas tree glowing in the late dawn light. His mind splits. Check Emmaline’s room, they’re probably in there, get control of yourself… and… the glock 19 is closest, should still be under the top shelf, call Price, mobilize the team- 
“Simon?” He whirls at the sound of your voice, air rushing out of his lungs, drawing into a relieved laugh. Emmaline is on your hip in a green, white, and red striped elf costume, complete with a pointed hat, jingle bell dangling from the top. “Morning.” You smile, and so does the baby. “Santa’s elf wanted to surprise you.” You’re still a little sleepy, eyes tired, and he does a double take when he realizes you’re in your underwear and one of his t shirts. 
“I’m… surprised.” Bloody hell. His brain isn’t working, his mouth rendering him stupid, still caught in fight or flight, and your lips subtly twist before your eyes soften, realization soft across your features. 
“Are you okay?” You question, and he nods, not trusting himself to not say something else moronic, flailing in the silence, failing. It’s been weeks since he’s felt like this, inept, clumsy, senseless, too easily settled into a life with you after that pipe burst in your flat and practically delivered him a holiday miracle, a treasure deposited right into his lap. “Here,” you push Emma into his arms, soft fingers over top his as you hand her off, looking up at him with that level trust, adoration that you’re always providing him, in your eyes. Just holding Emmaline settles the anxiety in his heart, soothes the raw buzzing that’s tearing through his head, and you smile, butting your head into his shoulder and placing a kiss there. “Will you take her while I get dressed?” 
“Yeah.” He croaks, as you squeeze his forearm, turning away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, stopping you in your tracks. He wants to tell you he thinks he loves you; he thinks he’d die without you; he thinks you’re the greatest thing he’s ever had, ever held, thinks you saved him, but nothing comes out. You hold his gaze for a second, and then two, before whispering.
“I know… me too.” Of course you do. You pause, cocking your head. “Could you make some coffee? Gonna be a long day.” You raise an eyebrow towards the Christmas tree, where all of Emma’s gifts sit perfectly arranged, and he nods. He can do that.
“Just three scoops of this,” he tells Emma, portioning out the coffee into the filter as she babbles at him from her perch in his other arm. “Mama likes it pretty strong, doesn’t she? And then some water, like this.” He pours the pitcher into the machine’s reservoir, flicking on the power and listening to the gurgle as he makes his way to the couch. He bounces Emma on his knee, little hands waving in the air, trying to grab the end of her hat and gnaw on it. The tree sparkles behind her, lights and ornaments all aglow, and she giggles when she tips herself forward, planting onto his chest with both hands. “Easy, baby girl.” Rolling onto her back in the crook of his arm, she squirms, smiling up at him, finger extended towards his chin. “What is it, eh?” He leans, and she pokes his cheek, cooing with a satisfied grunt. She fits so naturally in his side, just like you do, and he settles into the cushions, relaxing, allowing her to explore, tactile touch padding across his face, little fingernails scratching at his stubble.
“You two look cozy.” You murmur with a yawn, cup of coffee steaming in your palms. He smiles, and Emma lifts her head to look for you, tracking the sound of your voice. You perch at his other side, knees tucking up next to his hip, nestling your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing Emmaline’s cheek. “Whatcha doing sweet pea?” He brushes a kiss across the top of your head, and you sigh, arm wrapping around his stomach. "This is nice."
"It is." He agrees. It's more than nice, it's everything. Everything he didn't know was possible, everything he didn't know he wanted. It's nice, spending Christmas with his girls, cuddled up together on his couch in front of a Christmas tree that's loaded with presents for the baby. A Christmas, the holiday he used to shun… now brought back to life by you. Nice is a good word to describe it, but others flit through his mind as well: perfect, redeeming, salvation.
Purpose.
He takes a ragged breath, and you lean back to look at him, waiting.
"It's more than nice, sweetheart, it's... I... never thought, never dreamed this could happen in my life. You and Emmaline, you're... everything to me." He pauses, cradling your face, watching how your eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I want," he swallows the lump in his throat. "I want you to stay. I want you to be here. Always." He needs you to stay, needs you like he needs air to breathe, needs you like he's never needed, never wanted, anything before in his life. He'd give you the world, if he could, wrap it up nicely and put it beneath the tree, but he doesn't know how to say that, how to explain.
He's grateful he doesn't have to.
"I'll be here, Simon. I'll be right here. With you." You take his hand, clutching onto him tightly. It's selfish, what he wants. Stupid. But he's not a good man... he's yours, and he'll be as wicked, as awful as he must to keep you and Emmaline safe. You're the only good thing about him now, and he'd dig himself free from a shallow grave all over again, just to crawl home to you. You've changed him, deeply. Fundamentally. Taught him the truth of love, of healing, your grief not so much different from his own, and he knows he'd die for you, he'd die for you ten thousand times.
Emmaline babbles at the sound of your voice, and you smile at her, not bothering to wipe away the tear that tracks down your cheek. "We're here. We'll stay. As long as you want us."
And christ, if that isn't the best Christmas gift he's ever be given.
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