#she's wearing a black corset

[selliho6530]

And so, ladies and gentlemens, now you will read how many times I went to the bathroom to wash my hands and face, for no reason:

(i'm going to miss the morning because I was at school)

1 - 12:28

2- 12:50

3- 13:21

4- 13:29

5- 13:42

6- 13:50

7- 14:17

8- 14:19

9- 14:34

10- 16:13

11- 16:36

12- 16:42

13- 16:49

14- 16:59

15- 17:20

16- 17:37

17- 17:53

18- 18:21

19- 18:23

20- 18:45

21- 18:54

22- 19:18

23- 19:20

24- 19:33

25- 19:43

26- 20:12

27- 20:59

[leathermouthproxies]

wait I'm rereading till the ground holds me in its arms bc I want to make sure I'm staying consistent and tell me why the first chapter literally starts like my immortal.

[strawberryona]

my outfit is serving vesper, a little bit

[iphisesque]

can we see the gothic lolita on a budget 🥺

sure but please don't laugh at my hair i was in a bad place. and the bad place was my shitty hairdresser. anyway this is it

[roseband]

ew he's in nyc for some boring luxury brand's launch

[iamtheanimeweeb]

okay but imagine a screamo band group but the lead singer looks nothing like the expectations.

like the lead singer has tanned skin, wears bows at every show, dresses in pink or pastel colors, always dresses, always tall heels, glittery makeup, and she skips and twirls on stage.

now she either screams about the most adorable things like cute bunnies and flowers and romance and stuff. or she sings about the most horrid things known to mankind and scares the shit out of people while giving you that adorable innocent smile and cute little wave

it drives the fans absolutely mad

[erebusbored]

So prom for me is in about a month.

The funniest thing to me is whne people ask me "so did you chose a dress?"

And be being the closeted trans masc enby that I am I'm debating whether I should explain that no, I will not be wearing a dress or just say yeah and have them not question shit.

Like I live in the middle east. That explains it. Plus Everyone expected me to wear a dress.

But honestly idc. Not only am I wearing the closest thing to a suit that I can tolerate in summer but imma look hot doing so.

[wyllwithay]

Thinking about Karlach and how she's always depicted in leather and metal

Thinking about her just saying it's her thing because she burns soft things so she can't have them

And Tav taking her out shopping. And putting some protections on something silk and chiffon.

Karlach just letting the fine fabrics drape against her skin and feeling something not rough or battleworn

Karlach who takes such good care of her hair and braids decorations into it just for something that isn't about fighting.

She gets to look in a mirror and not see a soldier. A warrior. A barbarian.

She can see herself as pretty. Beautiful even. (Something Tav has always seen her as.)

A black halter top that shows off her back and arms, and black skirts with hems dipped in gold.

She gets to feel light and shine like the sun. And twirl in clothes not made to fight in. For a moment she doesn't have to think about practicality.

She keeps her comfy boots though. Fight or not she's not about to wear heels.

[hellsitegenetics]

Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

String identified: a a’ ta a a a a g ac a (tat’ gt a) t ta a t tat ac -ac a c ta a a t t A (A: ’t gt a t !). ’ t at t Ga a t a ca ’ a a cg tt. ’ a a t tt a tagt a t. a a t . ’ a a tc, a g t a agc c ca gat ga ’ t t a (’ t). ’ a gt ( ca c’t t) a a t ac. t Tc a a ct t. a ta a ag a ac ct t atcg ac a t a a ac at t, t a ac cat t. a ag ac tc, t at, ac a a. a ag t gat. t a g a ag t a , c a a at. A t ta at . t g at t.

Closest match: Prunus dulcis DNA, pseudomolecule Pd02 Common name: Almond

[edenslice]

went to uni yesterday wearing a black blazer + turtleneck and the cuntiest long ass pink skirt and got So many compliments.....i have the pants too . like . i am One Step closer to dressing like crowley eveyday icb

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[dickandballsdotgov]

I love you he/him lesbians

I love you she/her gays

I love you "weird kids" with split dyed black and pink hair and they/it/bun in their bio

I love you boys in skirts and dresses and corsets who are still cis

I love you trans girls who love their masculine features and don't change how masculine or feminine they present

I love you trans boys who still love being feminine and hope you land the best suckerpunch on anyone who says "but isn't that just being a girl"

I love you gays who kiss their boyfriends and girlfriends and partners and joyfriends and all kinds of significant others in the hallways to flaunt that they're not straight

I love you people who wear flags and rainbows to shove your gayness or transness in people's faces

I love you straight guys who love makeup but can't wear it around your friends

I love you people who coin obscure genders and use only neo/xenopronouns(seriously y'all are so cool and I wish i could design flags half as cool as yours)

I love you all aromantic/asexual people

I love you all the people that the lgbtq+ community chooses to outcast to appease the world which would destroy us all

I hate you lgbtq+ community members who choose to attack those who are on your team in an effort to seem "normal"

[leeloooonfire]

Steve Harrington only wears a bra.

Well, not, only, he's also wearing bright orange swim shorts and a cap backward, too.

The top part, however? Hairy man boobs are prettily covered by a black lace bra with a sparkling strass stone in the middle.

Eddie might be a teeny tiny bit drunk (2 beers after months of abstinence and medication does that to a man), but not drunk enought to imagine Steve Harrington in a bra.

'Uh-', he says eloquently and tries not to stare too much at the other man sitting on what must be Buckley's bed. 'Am I interrupting something?'

Steve, face almost as pink as Erica's favourite shoes, opens his mouth to reply, but Robin, sitting crosslegged in front of him, is faster, 'Oh its just you. Close the door, Eds.'

Eddie isn't sure if she means 'close the door and leave, never talk to us about whatever weird kinky little thing we're doing right now' or 'come in, close the door and shut up'. He hesitates for a moment, studying Steve's pretty flushed face and Robin’s wiggling eyebrows before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

His hand is still on the door knob when he turns and finds Robin leaning against Steve’s hairy chest, one of her arms behind his back. She's fumbling with something, frustrated noises escape her closed lips while Steve simply sits still - like a statue. An Adonis statue wearing a bra.

'Fuck', Robin groans loudly, her forehead knocking against Steve's clavicle, his hand patting her head in condolence.

'Not to be judgmental', Eddie starts slowly as he leans against the book case right next to the door, 'But what are you guys doing?'

(Eddie thought Robin's a friend of Dorothy, so why is Steve fucking Harrington sitting dolled up in a delicate bra on her bed and they look like they're ready to make out?!)

When both Steve and Robin send him evil twin looks, he holds both his hands up in surrender, 'Like I said, not gonna judge you, whatever floats your boat or whatever, but what, exactly, is it that you're trying to do here?'

'Practice', Robin grumbles against Steve's chest, tugging behind his back again.

Steve grins, a bit lopsided and goofy, 'She's trying to open the bra with one hand.'

'It's just so much easier on myself,' she says, and now that Eddie knows what's happening, he can make out her hand tugging and fumbling with the hooks behind Steve's back.

'Ah,' Eddie says, again, rather eloquently. 'I should probably leave you to it, then.'

Before he can turn and go, however, Steve says, 'I heard that you're pretty good with your hands, Munson. Bet you can get it off me in no time.'

'Pfff- ' Robin makes, rolling her eyes, 'I wouldn't be so sure he's ever had a bra in his hands.'

And while Robin has flocked him as a raging homosexual as it seems, Eddie heard the rumours about him too: fingers dancing over his guitar, rolling the perfect joints, Eddie the freak Munson knows how to work his fingers. he doesn't hate this rumour at all. It's kind of nice - for his ego and all.

Yes, he hasn't opened a bra before, but he's met this hot goth dude in a corset before, and that's basically a bra with dozens of hooks. He is fairly sure he can open it with one hand and without looking. What he probably shouldn't do is coming too close to Steve Harrington, the man he's had a crush on since they survived the Upside Down together. Not with his naked skin and hairy chest and dark brown nipple peaking through the black lace of the undergarment.

But both Robin and Steve stare at him and Eddie doesn't run anymore - a challenge is a challenge.

'No problem,' he says far more confident than he actually feels and steps closer, one knee on the bed before Robin's even all out of the way.

'No looking,' she says as if she's explaining the rules to a game, 'chest to chest or face in his neck, but you can only use one hand and your eyes have to stay either closed or on him. Seriously no peeking.'

She shuffles out the way to make room for Eddie between Steve's long, also very naked, legs and Eddie swallows quietly before leaning closer.

Steve smells like sunscreen and grass, a bit like the pineapple they ate earlier before the kids left, and sweat. He smells devine and before Eddie can think clearly, he presses his face into Steve's neck. He feels Steve shudder when his damp lips accidentally meet his sun kissed skin and Eddie feels like he's going crazy. What is he doing? Why is he doing it? Even the slightest touch sends shockwaves through his body. God, he's gone so bad for Steve Harrington.

'Ready?' Robin asks, apparently unaware of Eddie's dilemma or the way Steve's pulse is fluttering like a hummingbird right against Eddie's nose. 'Go!'

He sneaks his right arm around Steve, who jumps slightly the moment Eddie's fingertips brush against his shoulder blades. To keep him still, Eddie's left hand reaches for Steve's waist almost automatically. He doesn't try to focus too much on the way goosebumps spread under his fingers and the way Steve literally whines into Eddie's ear. His right hand follows the scratchy lace, nails lightly scratching Steve's skin, until he finds the hooks.

Thumb under the fabric and pointer and middle finger pressing against it, he feels the first hook opening after less than a heartbeat. For a moment, Eddie doesn't want to open the other two and therefore lose any reason to be so close to Steve.

Steve, who has his nose pressed against Eddie's hair and hand curled into Eddie's shirt, slightly tugging as if .... Well, as if to ask for permission to take it off. Eddie doesn't even know when he had the time to grab for the shirt in the first place.

Eddie moves his hand and the second hook opens. He turns his face, brings a bit more space between them to look at Steve. His cheeks are scarlet, lips shiney with spit and when he opens his eyes after mere seconds of Eddie staring at him, he can see that Steve's pupils are dilated, eyes dark with want.

The last hook springs free and without turning his eyes away, Eddie gently brushes the strap off Steve's broad shoulder. Steve quietly whimpers and pushes harder against Eddie's shirt as if to tear it off his body.

'Eddie', he whispers, licking his lips and Eddie just wants everything Steve is ready to offer.

'Ohhh okay, I think I'll leave you two alone', he hears the slightly panicked voice of Robin and then a door opening and closing.

And Eddie leans in...

[void-kill]

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

[redsray]

Batkids playing any kind of board game but make it extra competitive because whoever wins gets to choose what Bruce wears for the next gala.

Bruce, in a sparkly top and skinny jeans:

Reporter: Ah, who chose your outfit tonight, Brucie?

Bruce: That'd be my eldest, dear!

Dick, behind him, full into the gala persona: Flattering, isn't it? He should wear it more often, don't you think, sweetheart?

Reporter, flushed: Oh, absolutely.

Bruce (to Dick): Get a new fashion style. Please.

Dick: Never.

Reporter: Who would be responsible for your wardrobe tonight, Brucie? It's certainly a statement.

Bruce, head to toe in a pink suit and Hello Kitty accessories: Gorgeous, isn't it? All the credit will have to be given to Jason, though, I'm afraid.

Reporter: Your second son, if I'm not mistaken?

Bruce: The very one.

Jason from across the gala hall, trying to not cough up his drink with laughter:

Tim, next to him: He's pulling it off, though. Little spins and everything.

Jason: Still ridiculous. That's Batman right there, Timbo.

Tim, snickering: The Dark Knight, huh?

Bruce, dressed in a collared white shirt, sweater and skirt, looking like he just came out of a light academia novel:

Reporter: Wow, Brucie. Who do we thank for that wonderful outfit choice?

Bruce: Ah, flattering, is it not? Tim's choices when it comes to fashion are wonderful, if not a bit simple.

Tim, nodding from behind him: Only the finest satin skirts. Charming, right?

Tim, to Bruce: Don't call my style simple, Mr. all I wear is black.

[Jason handing Dick $10 in the background because Bruce does, in fact, pull off a skirt.]

Reporter: Oh lord, what a gown! Who influenced your fashion choice tonight, Brucie?

Bruce, in a long green and black gown with gold accessories, nothing short of royal-looking: I fear only one person I know could choose an outfit as gorgeous as this one.

Damian, proudly next to him, in a smaller, matching gown: Only the most exquisite. You lot in this flimsy country cannot compare.

Bruce: Yes, Damian has a fine taste in fashion. He gets it from his mother.

Damian, quieter: Well certainly not from you.

Bruce, dressed in an elegant white dress shirt, long black pants and a corset with red accessories, a fan in his right hand:

Reporter: What an entrance! Anyone to give credit to for the wardrobe, Brucie?

Bruce: That'd be my daughter, she certainly shines with her choice of clothing.

Cass, grinning with a matching fan: Very pretty.

Bruce: Thank you, Cass.

Reporter: Woah, that's certainly new. Any reason for this choice of clothes, Brucie, dear?

Bruce, in a snapback cap, loose jeans and a band t-shirt, complete with rings and a chain around his neck: Well, all of my children are creative, but... Duke might just take the cake for this one, love.

Duke, losing his absolute shit next to Jason, Dick and Tim: You look great, B.

Steph doesn't usually go to galas, but she participates in the game nevertheless. If she wins, god help Bruce, because it's a gamble with her. He either ends up wearing a gorgeous outfit with eccentric and trend-setting accessories or literal checkered pyjamas. Worst yet, he has to say he picked it himself, since he can't directly blame Steph.

[xoxoluvnicole]

Little Angel

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader (First person POV)

You and Theo both end up at a Slytherin Halloween party, he is drawn in by your costume.

!SMUT! 18+ ONLY

CW: Alcohol, weed, pet names, choking, getting tied up

~~~~

"You look absolutely adorable!" My best friend squeals, looking at me over my shoulder in the mirror hung on the wall in my dorm room.

I smooth down the white mini skirt that adorns the top of my thighs. I decided to dress as an angel, it was an extremely basic costume but I knew it would draw the attention I wanted from boys. It was an all white outfit, a see-through corset was squeezing my organs in ways that made me vaguely worried for my health. My makeup was done all nice, with white accents on the inner corners of my eyes and small jewels dotted randomly on my face. Lastly, the piece that tied it all together was the white angel halo that sat on top of my head thanks to the headband.

We rushed out of my dorm, running through the dark halls of Hogwarts as quietly but as quickly as we could. Walking down the stairs into the dungeon, I could hear the music blasting from yards away. The green LED lights shined beneath the door that led into the Slytherin common room. A scrawny Slytherin first year had the poor job of standing at the door.

I waltzed right by him, catching him staring at the top of my legs. The room had all the furniture pushed against the walls, a makeshift bar was set up next to the door, and there was a lingering smell of different intoxicating substances. I held my best friends hand as we snuck our way through the crowd standing at the door.

I could see all sorts of unique costumes standing around the room. A group of Ravenclaws were dressed as the Scooby Doo mystery gang. I could see a few playboy bunnies followed by their Hugh Hefner boyfriends. Lots of popular tv show characters, a few Ghostface masks and Michael Myers stood in different corners of the room.

I could feel my friend tug at my arm, dragging me over to the bar. Pansy Parkinson was dressed as a sexy pirate, being the main bartender for the party. When she saw me, she smiled.

"Finally decided to join the party?" She yelled over the music.

I smiled at her, looking over my shoulder to scan the party. "Just give me something fruity!"

She quickly mixed something up for me, it was a bright pink color and it tasted similar to a cherry pie. It was dangerous, I knew I'd be drunk within the hour if I drank this as fast as I wanted to. I leaned over the bar, my ass sticking out behind me.

"Don't look behind you.." Pansy warned, looking past me while she continued to mix up a drink. "Nott's been staring at you for the past few minutes.."

I smiled at the name. Theodore Nott. He was a Slytherin seventh year, hot as ever and he had a cunning attitude attached to him. We've talked a bit, being smoking buddies every so often when he came up to the Astronomy tower with his boys while Pansy and I sat up there. Not strangers, but definitely not as close as I wished we could be.

I stood up straight, peering just every so slightly over my shoulder. He was wearing a black suit with a red button up shirt and tie. His face was covered with black and white face paint, depicting a skeleton. A simple costume, but it made me want to drool and trip over myself.

The cold drink in my hand was giving me a bit of confidence, as I took another sip. I whispered a quick goodbye to my friend and turned around on my heels. Theo was stationed next to the fireplace with Mattheo and Lorenzo at his sides. I slowly sauntered through the crowd, saying my hellos to the friends I bumped into along the way.

Theo acted like he didn't see me coming, looking away to the other corner of the room.

"Skeleton? Pretty basic, don't you think, Nott?" I giggled, bringing the drink up to my lips for another sip as I stepped in front of him.

He chuckled, finally meeting my eyes but not before he examined my costume. "Angel?" He took a minute to pause, "Unique.."

I smiled at him. I moved my hand holding the drink between us, silently offering him a sip. He held his hand up, denying it before he brought up his other hand which revealed the blunt he was holding.

"Classic.." I giggled at him.

I opened my mouth to speak again, possibly flirt with him a bit more before some Rihanna song came over the speakers. I gasped, looking up at the strobing lights on the ceiling. My hips began to sway as I took another drink, before setting it down on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Dance with me!" I yelled over the music to Theo, grabbing his upper arm and dragging him behind me.

The area that was the designated dance floor was crowded with people from every house. I managed to snake my way to the middle, stopping and turning to face Theo. The song continued on, as I grabbed Theo's hands to swing them back and forth. He smiles a small smile at me, eyes drawn to my body.

The song continues on and Theo's hands find my waist, turning me in his arms so my back is against his chest. My hips move side to side, his following mine. We stayed on the dance floor for the next few songs. Between me grinding on him or wrapping my arms around his shoulders to sing along with the song.

"Wanna go smoke somewhere?" He leaned down to whisper in my ear, hands still glued to my waist.

I nodded. He grabbed my hand within his, guiding me through the crowd and up a staircase into the boys dorm wing.

"Where are we going?" I giggled, whispering behind him.

"My dorm.. I've got better weed in there." He looked back at me, smirking.

He opened the door, leading me into a plainly decorated room. The only character that stood out was the weed accessories placed all over the room and the big tapestry that hung over his bed with a marijuana plant plastered in the middle of it. It was messy, but not disgusting. It smelled like cologne and old spice.

Theo let go of my hand after he shut the door behind us, walking over to the window to prop it open. He picked up a marbled green and black glass bong, walking over to the sink to fill it with water.

"You know how to pack weed?" He asked.

I shook my head, shyly sitting down on the edge of his bed. He nodded, walking back over to his bed to stand in front of me. He took the weed and began packing it in. He got it all ready, grabbed his lighter and lit the bong. He took a long hit, pulling back and opening his mouth to take a gasp in. Theo held it in for a few seconds, then leaning out the window to blow the smoke into the atmosphere.

"Here, your turn.." He walked back over to me, handing me the bong.

I held it in my hands, putting it up to my mouth as Theo held the lighter against the weed to light it for me. He pulled the plug out after a few seconds to let me take in all the smoke. I tilted my head towards the window and blew out, coughing.

Between coughs I managed to speak out, "Haven't.. done this.. in a while.." I giggled.

Theo smiled at me, taking another quick hit before setting the bong down on his nightstand. He sat down next to me on the bed, leaning back so his back hit the wall. I sighed, glancing around his room.

"Come on, lay back.. Take a load off." Theo suggested, pulling at my arm.

I leaned backwards, laying down next to him. My brain quickly got foggy from the previous alcohol and now the weed. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling as I felt Theo's gaze focus on me. I looked to my side, smiling at him.

"What are you thinking?" Theo asked quietly.

I hummed for a moment before giving my answer, "I dont know, honestly.." I giggled, "Nothing, I guess."

Theo chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. I sat up, shaking myself out of the wings that were on my back. I moved my legs to lay down at the head of the bed. Theo followed suit.

"How long have we known each other now..? Like six years or something like that." Theo asked, his words a bit slurred from the intoxicating smoke he inhaled a few minutes earlier.

"Something like that.." I agree, huffing. My heart was beginning to beat faster and it felt like I had a lack of lungs in my air.

I placed a hand on my heart, making sure my body was still functioning correctly. Theo eyed me, then placed his hand over mine.

His hand over mine was warm, like a spark of fire just lit between our connection. "You okay?" He asked.

I nodded, giving a small 'mhm'. My eyes fluttered closed as I lay there with the hottest guy in all of Hogwarts who had his hand on my chest. Maybe I was just high and hallucinating. Yeah, that's probably it.

I continued on with thinking I was hallucinating until I felt his hand slowly move from on top of mine to on top of my breast. It was a lingering touch, he held his hand for a few seconds before his fingers started to pry back the corset top I was wearing, easing his hand under and on to my boob.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Theo looked at me with genuine care in his eyes. "Is um.. this okay?"

I nodded, vigorously.

"Use your words.." He coo'd.

"Yes.. Yes, this is good.." I stumbled over my words, watching and feeling his hand slip lower and lower into my top.

I felt his pinky finger brush over my nipple, the sudden sensation caused a chill to vibrate through my body. His thumb and index finger pinched and swirled my nipple between them. I bit my bottom lip, my eyes wandering from the ceiling to his face. He had a stupid smirk on it, watching my body squirm due to his simple touch.

"How easy is this corset to take off?" He questioned, pulling his hand out from under it and nudging me to sit up so he could take a look.

"Not hard, just um-" I paused to think, my intoxicated brain was not working the way it should. "Untie the tie and then pull the strings apart." I guided him.

He did as I told him, and before I knew it my corset was being thrown on the floor and I was left sitting topless on his bed. Theo's eyes wandered up and down my body, and I suddenly could feel every insecurity I've ever had seeping into my brain. I went to wrap my arms around myself but before I could Theo grabbed my wrist, pulling it back to my side.

"Why do you want to cover up such a beautiful body?" He spoke softly.

I shrugged, not having an answer for him. Soon, Theo was leaning forward towards me. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, shocking me in the process.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yes! I'm very good.. Just- high," I giggled, "But this is nice! Keep going.. Please"

Theo smirked an evil smirk at the words that just came out of my mouth, "Good girl, using her manners."

I went to smile but before I could his lips crashed against mine, his one hand moving around my neck to settle on the dip beneath my head. He pushed our faces impossibly closer together. I was blushing, hard, my face was red hot and I felt as if any second I would start to sweat.

Theo's other hand found it's way down to my chest, kneading both boobs in one of his hands. His tongue jammed into my mouth, searching for something that was no where to be found. We stayed like that for a minute, tongues bumping into each other and saliva swapping between us. He pinched my nipples which caused me to pull back and yelp. That just made Theo smile wider.

He used the opportunity of me pulling back from him to kiss down my neck, onto my collarbone and my chest, finally ending up at my boobs. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. I tried to stifle my moan by biting my tongue.

He backed away from my nipple with a pop, "So pretty.. Can't believe we've never done this before."

My brain short circuited for a moment, "You've thought about this before?"

He laughed quickly, before going back to kneading my boobs with both hands. "How could I not, cara mia? You've sat in front of me in Muggle Studies for the past two years. I see your beautiful body every time you go to stand up or sit down.."

His words made me blush. I giggled at him and his confession. "You're cute, Nott."

He smiled at me for just a second before his eyes turned lust filled. He trailed his one hand from my chest down to beneath my short skirt, coming in contact with the white thong I wore. His fingers circled over the underwear as he looked up at me. Ever so slowly, he moved them over to the side and his fingers were now touching parts of me I only dreamed of him touching.

His index and middle finger made small, quick circles around the bundle of nerves. I laid back on his pillows, watching as he so carefully took control over me.

He looked up at me through his eyelashes, his mouth opening slightly and his eyes widened. Before I could ask if he was okay, I felt those same two fingers jam into me. My body shivered and a moan fell out from my lips.

He licked his lips, eyes flicking between his fingers pumping in and out of me and my face. "So.." He paused his movements, "tight." He jammed them back in, going deeper than I ever thought was possible. My back arched off the bed at his sudden movements. I was at his disposal and he knew it.

"So good, cara mia. So good.." He whispered, leaning his face down closer to my core as he stuck his tongue out and licked it.

I gasped, my hands flying to the edges of the bed to steady myself. He continued to lick up and down, occasionally sucking on the bud. It felt heavenly, this obviously was not the first time he had done this.

"Theo.. fuck me.." I managed to squeak out between moans. This made him smile at me.

"Your wish is my command, darling." He smirked, unbuttoning his suit pants.

I leaned up to help him, unbuttoning his top and loosening the tie as he worked to take his trousers off. Soon, his clothes were discarded on the floor. Except for his tie, he held onto his tie. I looked questioningly at it, my eyebrow raised.

"Put your hands together, behind your back." He demanded.

I did as I was told, and he used the red tie to bind my hands together behind me. He pushed me backwards, my shoulders hitting the soft mattress.

"Are you sure about this?" He leaned down closer to my face, planting soft kisses on my neck.

"Yes, please. Please, Theo." I begged, squirming beneath him.

The lust in his eyes grew as he pulled my panties and skirt down my legs. He shimmied his boxers off, exposing his impressive shaft. He had a reputation at school of having BDE (big dick energy) and I could now confirm that the rumors were true. Very true.

He wrapped his hand around it, pumping it a few times. He was rock hard, just from touching me. It was a bit of an ego boost, I wont lie.

He lined himself up with my core, pushing in painfully slow. I bit my lip, trying to quiet my moans but it was no use. I moaned loudly, causing his face to snap up at me.

"Quiet, cara mia." He warned, wrapping the hand that wasn't gripping my waist around my neck.

It was a light touch, until it wasn't. Theo began pushing himself in and out of me, faster until he was at a brutal pace. His hand around my neck tightened, my brain becoming more foggy than it already was. He continued on, using my core however he wanted to. My hands longed to touch him, but the tie around my wrists made it impossible.

"Flip over.." He said after pulling out, watching as I struggled to move from my back to my stomach.

He pulled my ass into the air, forcing me to arch my back into the bed. He pushed back in, hitting deeper than he was before. He pulled my hair into a ponytail, tugging on it so I was forced to press my back to his chest.

"Pretty angel.." He cooed in my ear, "Getting absolutely destroyed." He smirked.

I looked over my shoulder at him, the skeleton face paint still intact. It made him even hotter than he already was, if that was possible. His tongue was stuck out just slightly, curling around his bottom lip in concentration. His hips continued to buck up into me.

"Im close, Theo.." I whined.

"Good girl, go on. Finish all over me." He whispered, continuing his unrelenting pace.

I came undone on his shaft. My body was shaking and my breathing was staggered as I fell forward onto the pillows.

He moaned out random words of praise, before I heard him say "I'm gonna come too."

He groaned, erratically slamming his hips into mine. He pulled out at the last second, his hand wrapping around to stroke himself to finishing. His thick cum was all up my ass and back. We both moaned out a sigh of relief.

Theo stayed behind me for a second, before he patted his hand on my ass and got off the bed. He returned a few seconds later with a towel he used to wipe me down, being gentle like I truly was an angel in his arms.

"How was that?" He asked, smirking.

"Great.. Amazing.." I said, my chest still heaving for air.

He scooted me over to the inside of the bed, laying down next to me. He pulled me into his arms, leaving the softest kisses on the top of my head.

"Oh, cara mia. You did so well.." He praised me, running a hand through my hair and untying my wrists

We sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the moment. I traced shapes on his chest with my now free hand. I could hear the music from the party playing in the distance. I heard commotion from all sorts of people, drunk and high.

"Do you wanna go back to the party?" Theo asked after a while, moving my chin up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"No.. I don't think I can walk." I giggle.

He smiled down at me, laying back into the mattress.