#that’s it that’s all i have to say‼️

[nemesyaaa]

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

lmfaooooo why its always Enzo 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

ughhhh i love this concept !!! im so ready for the part2. pansy always has the best idea. she's just a good friend, not a bad influence. i will never get enough of theo being jealous and possessive but also such an incredible bastard 😫😫 i loved house of pride but his own medecine is also insanely good ‼️‼️‼️

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

(rip mattheo and enzo by the way)

HIS OWN MEDICINE Pt. 1 // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[solxamber]

I saw your valentines event and HAD to participate in it sooooo can you do jamil, romantic, “stupid in love” by max and yunjin

love you girl stay healthy 🔥🔥‼️‼️

"Stupid in Love" || Jamil Viper

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Stupid in Love by MAX (ft. HUH YUNJIN)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 880

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Fluff, Established Relationship

Jamil had spent his entire life planning.

Every move, every decision—calculated. If he strayed, even once, he knew there would be consequences.

And yet, here he was, standing in a tattoo shop with you, heart hammering, watching as you flipped through the sample designs with an amused grin.

“How about this one?” you asked, pointing to a tiny, barely visible crescent moon. “Or, ooooh, what about a cobra? It’d be fitting.”

Jamil smirked, leaning against the counter. “A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

You gasped dramatically. “Fine, then you pick something.”

He should have stopped this a long time ago. When you first laughed and jokingly said, "Hey, what if we got matching tattoos?" When you dragged him into the shop “just to look.” But instead, Jamil had found himself nodding.

He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way your eyes sparkled when you teased him, or maybe—just maybe—it was because for the first time in his life, he wanted to do something stupid.

No planning. No second-guessing. Just feeling.

The artist came over, raising an eyebrow. “So, what’ll it be?”

You turned to Jamil expectantly, clearly assuming he’d back out. But instead, he met your gaze, calm and steady, and said, “Something small. Something that won’t fade.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. “Wait. You’re actually doing it?”

Jamil exhaled through his nose, amused. “Didn’t you say it was a great idea?”

“I—yes—but—” You waved your hands. “You’re supposed to be the rational one!”

He hummed, rolling up his sleeve. “Maybe I don’t want to be rational today.”

You stared at him, lips twitching like you couldn’t decide whether to laugh or scream. “Okay. Okay. So where do you want it?”

Jamil tapped his wrist, just below his palm. A place he’d see every day. A permanent reminder of this moment. Of you.

Your expression softened, the teasing flickering into something quieter. Warmer. “Alright,” you said, tone suddenly serious. “Then I want mine in the same spot.”

And just like that, the world tilted.

Jamil had spent years convincing himself that love was something distant. That it had no place in his life, not when he was constantly cleaning up after other people’s messes.

But now, as the tattoo needle buzzed and you squeezed his hand like this is really happening, he realized—

He was completely, stupidly in love.

Jamil had never been reckless.

His whole life was a careful balance—his actions, his words, even his emotions, all measured and precise. He knew better than to want things for himself. Knew better than to love things too much.

But then there was you.

And every single rule he had ever followed suddenly felt ridiculous.

He had seen beauty before. Lived among extravagance, surrounded by splendor that others could only dream of. And yet, nothing—not the golden halls of the Asim estate, not the finest silks in the world—had ever made his breath catch like the way you looked at him.

Jamil was many things—logical, pragmatic, trained to see the world for what it was. But when you smiled, he felt something dangerous creep into his chest. Something that whispered, What if?

It was pathetic, really. You could tell him to jump, and he’d ask how high.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

You had no idea how much power you held over him. How one glance, one fleeting touch, could unravel years of careful self-control.

Maybe it was crazy.

Jamil had spent so long being cautious, watching from the sidelines, making sure no one ever got too close. Love was a luxury he couldn’t afford—not when he had obligations, responsibilities, a future that had never truly belonged to him.

And yet, when you pulled him into your ridiculous, impulsive ideas—when you laughed and said, "Let’s get matching tattoos"—he didn’t say no.

Because maybe, for once, he wanted something selfishly.

He pretended not to wait for your texts, not to anticipate the moment he’d see you next. But it was a lie, and a poor one at that.

Because the truth was, he was always waiting for you.

Marriage. Forever. Things he had never even considered before now.

The idea should have been laughable—Jamil wasn’t the type to indulge in fairytales. But when you joked about it, throwing out absurd suggestions like Vegas weddings and matching last names, he felt something tighten in his chest.

Not fear. Not discomfort.

Just the quiet, terrifying realization that if you did ask, he might actually say yes.

There were a thousand reasons why this wouldn’t last.

And yet, none of them mattered.

Because at the end of the day, Jamil was still here. Still standing beside you, still letting you pull him into things he had no business agreeing to.

Still letting himself love you.

He's stupidly in love with you.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[nemesyaaa]

this man is such a walking massive red flag but this is me ngl

wkzkdkzlsks I'm such a sucker for toxic!enzo !!! hes so sick and manipulative to the point its just driving me insane. he's playing too much, too far, too hard but I'm still so addicted to him ! again, your writing is still so incredible, i cant get tired of it. how can it be 5k of words ?? i didn't feel it at all, i just binge reading the whole one-shot but goddamn, i loved every lines of this !

also i love the fact that reader is SICK OF ENZO'S GAMES and not bitchin on the poor girl who just get dragged into it 😫 like yes dont forget who's the real menace here ! TOXIC ENZO SO GOOD, BUT TOXIC BOYFRIEND ENZO ?? BETTER 🙂‍↕️‼️

“Heart, body, and soul,” he whispered, his voice steady but low, his breathing growing heavier with each word. “You can have me anytime. I’m yours to ruin.”

i forgive him <3333333 (im just a girl)

Loving Lorenzo was intoxicating, but nothing made you feel more alive than he did.

this is so real

Enzo always loved doing that. He always loved drawing attention, but it wasn’t just for fun—it was almost like a weapon. Every gesture, every smile, every word, every step, it was all calculated, all part of his game. Nothing was spontaneous. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to manipulate the atmosphere, twisting every ounce of his charm to ensure all eyes were on him.

i swear I'm blind 🤓🤓🤓

Enzo’s smile widened slightly when he noticed the frustrated look you cast in his direction, watching him intently. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes told you everything, he loved the power he had over you. The way your frustration was slowly eating away at you was exactly what he wanted.

i dont know if i want to fuck him, slap him, or kill him

“Maybe I wanted to see if you’d fight for me. If you'd... show me that I mean enough to you to get that reaction, like you always do.” Enzo continued, and you furrowed your brows.

i cant do this anymore. not with him 😫😫😫

also dont get me starting about the moodboard

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄

lorenzo berkshire x fem reader

SUMMARY. enzo knows how to push buttons, and what better way to get under his girlfriend’s skin than by flirting with someone else? WORDS.+5.8K. english it’s not my first language.

WARNINGS. smut, +18 mdni, porn w//plot, reader and enzo are 18, sub!enzo, oral! f receiving, pnv, dick riding, lick kink (?), unprotected sex, making out, established relationship, whipped enzo (kinda), flirting, jealous reader, pussy drunk enzo, finger sucking.

A chilling fog hovered over the vast castle of Hogwarts. The dense, almost spectral mist curled around the school’s tall towers and spiraled down to cover the surface of the Black Lake, spreading like a curtain across the landscape and blurring the boundaries between sky and earth, creating an endless sea of gray that made it nearly impossible to discern the horizon.

Outside was eerily silent, and the usual sounds of bustling students seemed muffled. The hurried footsteps, the distant laughter—everything seemed softened, silenced by the thick, damp air. Even the castle’s imposing stone walls, usually so solid yet welcoming, felt colder, more rigid than usual, enveloped by the heavy, damp fog that crept into every corner and corridor.

Within the castle, the torches flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the stone corridors. The few students who remained moved swiftly, their voices hushed, as if they didn’t want to disturb the heavy silence that had settled with the fog and cold, which seemed to cling to the walls, making them wrap themselves in cloaks and scarves in a nearly futile attempt to escape the biting chill.

In contrast to the school’s corridors, the Slytherin common room filled the air with an almost eerie yet comforting calm. The soft glow of green-tinged torches reflected gently off the leather and velvet armchairs, and the fire crackled in the large fireplace, though its warmth was still a bit weak, barely enough to drive the lingering chill from the stone walls. Not that it mattered much; most of the students had already gone to bed, leaving only a few by the fire, chatting quietly among themselves.

Lorenzo Berkshire was one of them.

Enzo was lounging by the fireplace in an old velvet armchair, the soft firelight casting shadows over his handsome features, highlighting the lines of his face and the playful glint in his gaze. He held his usual casual, almost lazy posture, yet there was a subtle mischief in his expression that contrasted with his apparent relaxation. A faint smirk played at the corner of his mouth as he watched his friends, Mattheo and Theodore, who were seated a little further in front of him.

Beside them, a small group of girls giggled at their conversation, though they seemed more interested in everything except the words being said, eyeing the slytherin trio with an almost obscene manner.

On the other side of the common room, you stood, almost concealed in the shadows, the soft glow of the fire casting a faint light on the pages of the small book resting in your lap. Yet, the book had long been forgotten, with only your fingers tightly gripping the pages as a reminder of its presence. Your attention, however, was completely focused on your boyfriend, Enzo, who was now dangerously close to a girl, her smile too provocative and wide, her laughter too loud for your taste.

It was torture.

You kept a distance, your heart skipped a beat as you watched them, and you could feel your body growing sick. The girl leaned in slightly, her hand brushing against the armrest of Enzo’s chair, and her laughter sounded too sweet in a way that made you want to tear your ears off and her tongue out. She was enjoying flirting with him far too much, way too much. Her eyes sparkled with the attention she thought Enzo was giving her, and it made your blood boil, almost as if your veins were about to melt. 

Still, you tried to keep your composure.

You could see the way his lips curled into another smirk, this time a more confident one—the kind that always made you want to reach out and wipe that annoyingly perfect face off. He was clearly toying with her, and while you knew you were the one who truly held his heart, that didn’t change the fact that you could feel your veins burning with anger. And what made it worse was that it was happening right in front of you, with him fully aware you were watching.

Every fake laugh he let slip with her made your ears ache, and every fake flirtatious glance he shot her way made your almost eyes bleed. But what twisted the knife was how everything he did felt intentionally exaggerated, as though he was either sending a message—or even worse, provoking you until you cracked.

And the worst part? It was almost working.

Enzo always loved doing that. He always loved drawing attention, but it wasn’t just for fun—it was almost like a weapon. Every gesture, every smile, every word, every step, it was all calculated, all part of his game. Nothing was spontaneous. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to manipulate the atmosphere, twisting every ounce of his charm to ensure all eyes were on him.

And it wasn’t just about being seen, it was about controlling how others saw him. Enzo was always one step ahead, and he knew exactly how to make everything he wanted fall right into his hands. Sometimes he just seemed to forget how that game didn't work with you most of the time.

You sighed sharply, flipping open the book again and trying to read, but the words blurred under your gaze. Your fingers dug into the pages, pressing harder before you could realize it, too furious at the scene playing out in front of you. Every muscle in your body tensed as you held yourself back from doing something reckless, forcing yourself to keep control so he wouldn’t feel like he’d won.

You wanted to scream in frustration.

You sighed sharply, flipping open the book again and trying to read, but the words blurred under your gaze. Your fingers dug into the pages, pressing harder before you could realize it, too furious at the scene playing out in front of you. Every muscle in your body tensed as you held yourself back from doing something reckless, forcing yourself to keep control so he wouldn’t feel like he’d won.

The girl seemed to be enjoying herself even more, too oblivious to sense the insincerity in his actions, too thrilled with the attention she was getting. She leaned in closer, her hand settling on his arm with an irritating confidence, her fingers now tracing along his sleeve. At her touch, Enzo shifted slightly, moving a few millimeters away, offering her a lazy grin, though you could detect a flicker of irritation behind it as he murmured something low, meant only for her ears.

“No touching, yet.” You read his lips, aware that Enzo was always the one to initiate contact but never the one to welcome it; you were the only one who held that privilege. ‘Yet’ felt like a hollow promise, one she’d never be able to do.

Unfortunately for you, she was too clueless to notice, and her irritating giggles grew louder as she pushed her hand on herself, convinced that he would give her what she wanted at any moment.

He wouldn’t, yet you still wanted to rip your eyes from your face, or perhaps tear out theirs.

Your grip tightened around the pages as her loud giggles echoed in your ears, the edges of the pages biting into your skin, leaving red marks behind. The temptation to march over there, to yank Enzo away by his hair and remind him that you were the only one allowed to touch him, was overwhelming.

You wanted to remind him that you, his girlfriend, were right there. But when his eyes finally met yours, that flicker of amusement in his gaze froze you in place. He knew. You knew he knew. And worse, you knew he was doing it on purpose.

Your relationship was always this way—small, calculated moves to unsettle each other, to test who loved the other more, who could push the other further, who felt more. Little games meant to sting, to spark jealousy, all leading to the same end: you finally giving in, begging him to be inside of you. But this time, you told yourself, would be different. This time, you wouldn’t beg.

No matter how much you loved him or how deeply you craved him, this time you wouldn’t give in. Still, the urge simmered within you, a desire to remind Enzo that he was yours just as much as you were his. The thought alone made you bite your lip in frustration, struggling to keep yourself from getting up and putting an end to this nonsense.

Enzo’s smile widened slightly when he noticed the frustrated look you cast in his direction, watching him intently. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes told you everything, he loved the power he had over you. The way your frustration was slowly eating away at you was exactly what he wanted.

As you refused to give in, he almost let out a tired sigh, bored by your resistance, until a wicked little idea flickered in his mind, making him drape his arm over the top of the sofa, and the girl's giggles grew louder as she stepped closer, gazing up at him like he was her next prize. She was practically begging for his attention, and though Enzo only offered her a fake smirk, you felt your blood boil once more.

You took a sharp breath, pulling your gaze away from the scene in front of you. You did your best to control the jealousy and possessiveness rising inside you, struggling to keep your anger from spilling over. But there was something about his nonchalance that made your resolve begin to crumble, the way he seemed perfectly at ease with what he was doing to you and your jealousy, making you feel like you were overreacting.

That was maddening.

But still, you stayed where you were, with an almost unreadable expression. You were no stranger to the games Enzo liked to play and the way he loved getting a reaction out of you, as if he was proving to himself that you cared.

The girl, too distracted to notice the tension between the two of you, leaned in even closer to Enzo. Her fingers lightly brushed against his arm again, a gesture that would have meant nothing to anyone else. But to you, it felt like a physical blow, and you couldn't help but clench your jaw, your fingers digging into the pages of the book again as you fought to maintain your self-control.

This time, he couldn’t win. You wouldn’t let him win again.

Enzo noticed your reaction—he always did. His smirk deepened, filled with satisfaction at seeing your discomfort mirrored by the irritation simmering within him.

He let the moment drag on just a bit longer, holding your gaze just long enough to make it clear he was fully aware of how you were reacting, before finally turning to the girl. An irritated smirk played on his lips as he leaned toward her. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with acidity.

You recognized his behavior instantly. He’d never liked it when anyone besides you tried to touch him; he didn’t care for anyone’s attention as much as he cared for yours. You knew he was drawing a line, not because of her, but for of you, because no matter how far he went, his love, however twisted it was, was yours.

Only yours.

The girl, however, didn’t seem to take the hint, and you couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could be so stupid. Even Mattheo and Theodore exchanged looks, cringing at her annoying persistence.

But she only smiled wider, clearly convinced his words were part of some flirtatious game, part of the charm he was known for. She leaned in closer, determined to close the distance between them, as if she could break through the invisible wall Enzo had put up around himself, a wall that only you were allowed to pass.

Still, you were on the edge, feeling the rational part of you slip through your fingers, but you forced yourself to stay seated. Your nails dug into the fabric of your pants, the book now discarded on the floor as you kept watching them, the jealousy eating you alive.

You tore your gaze away from him for a moment, focusing on the cover of the book, desperately trying to calm the storm raging inside you. But then you felt it—his deep chocolate eyes on you again, the weight of his gaze pulling you back to him.

He was staring at your face, a frown tugging at his brows, but it was the fucking smirk that made your blood boil. It was as if he could sense every reaction you had and could read every thought that flickered through your mind. And the worst part? Enzo could.

And now, every time the girl giggled even louder in an exaggerated manner and grabbed your boyfriend’s arm with even more confidence, it wasn’t just jealousy anymore, it was something more insistent, something sharper. Your blood wasn’t just boiling anymore; it was exploding, almost tearing through your veins.

Enzo was pushing you, testing your limits to see how much you could handle before all hell broke loose. He knew exactly how to make you squirm, how to make you feel small or powerful, even without trying. And yet, somehow, you were still clinging to your composure, even though the final straw was closer than you realized. You were going to lose it, you were definitely going to lose it.

Then, just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Enzo’s gaze sliced through the air like a blade. His lips moved lazily. “She’s just playing,” you read his lips, the words meant only for you, his posture softer than you had ever seen, his eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing serious, princess.” You read his lips again, your hands gripping your pants harder. But deep down, you knew if he had said it aloud, his voice would be dripping with mockery.

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to stay still and cling to the little dignity you had left, refusing to let him get under your skin any further. You had been holding your ground, resisting his game—until now.

But then, as if sensing your resolve cracking, Enzo shifted slightly, discomfort flickering across his face at her touch, but the smug relaxation in his posture betrayed the satisfaction beneath. He knew exactly what he was doing, pulling you back in.

His arm still draped over the back of the green sofa, casually claiming the space, as if he had all the time in the world. The girl, still completely unaware of her role in his twisted game to have you, leaned in even closer, her lips inches from his ear.

That's when it happened. The final push.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word, you stood up abruptly, your steps heavy on the floor, the sharp echo reverberating through the communal room, drawing the attention of the few students still lingering. Their eyes followed you, tracking every swift, angry movement.

You ignored the shifting shadows behind you, finally accepting that you’d lost and making your way toward your boyfriend. 

Enzo’s eyes followed your every step, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips as you reached his chair. Without giving him a chance to say a word, you grabbed his tie, not gently, but with a force that made him falter for a second. You drove him to his feet, dragging him away from the girl in one fast gesture.

His friends exchanged knowing glances, amusement dancing in their eyes, but none of them dared to interfere, too entertained by whatever was happening. The girl blinked, her flirtatious smile quickly fading as she watched you drag Enzo toward the dorm stairs. The way he didn’t resist.

He never did when it came to you.

Your hand stayed clenched around Enzo’s tie, gripping it with a possessiveness that radiated a silent claim as you reached the stairs, your eyes scanning the path ahead, oblivious to the satisfied gaze he kept locked on you. His smile widened when you gave his tie another firm tug, his eyes gleaming with a dark, consuming hunger, pleased that you’d put an end to the scene, pleased that you’d proven exactly what he wished.

As you reached your dorm door, you spun to face him, frustration and anger simmering in your gaze, your breaths shallow and unsteady. Your hold on his tie tightened, possessive and unyielding, as you pushed him inside, disregarding the smug smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. The dark glint in his eyes only made your blood burn hotter; he’d been waiting for this, savoring every second, but you would not give him what he wanted, not yet.

Once you were both inside the room, you released your grip on Enzo’s tie, shoving him into the chair with an intensity that matched your boiling anger. You could still feel the heat of jealousy coursing through you as you moved, your steps quick and agitated. Enzo, though taken aback for a brief moment, quickly regained his composure, his smirk transforming into a playful, charming smile.

He watched you pace the room, his eyes gleaming with amusement, as you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to control the anger you felt.

“You seemed a bit... tense back there, princess.” Enzo’s voice was smooth, teasing, as he settled into the chair, his gaze dark and unwavering on you. “Need any help?” he continued, his tone still playful, but the edge in his smile faltered when you shot him a sharp, cutting glare. He knew you were angry. He could feel it.

“Don’t even try, Enzo!” you snapped, your voice laced with frustration. Normally, you would have played along with his games, but tonight, you were beyond furious. Maybe it was the stress of the day or just the suffocating weight of everything, but this time, he’d gone too far.

Enzo’s smirk faltered for a brief second, but it was enough for you to catch it—the flicker of regret that crossed his face before he masked it. He was trying to read you, testing the waters, but something seemed to shifted.

“That girl… What the fuck were you trying to prove?” you demanded, stepping closer, your hands balling into fists at your sides as your frustration flared.

He didn’t want to upset you like this; you knew that. He loved you too much for that. He always showed it with sweet words, declarations, and little gestures that made you feel like you were everything to him.

But underneath it all, there was that part of him, the part that couldn’t stop playing his games. He had always been the center of attention, drawing people in with ease, but when it came to you, it was different. You were the only one who held his heart, and yet, in his own way, he still craved the control.

Pushing boundaries, testing limits, he couldn’t help it. Not because he didn’t care for you, but because, in some twisted way, he needed to know just how far you would go for him.

Yet, Enzo sometimes seemed clueless to the fact that he already held your attention completely and that was his mistake. He always thought that his way of loving was the only right way, always wanting you to meet his standards.

“I wasn’t trying to prove anything!” he defended himself, though his voice faltered slightly, a crack betraying him as he watched you intently, that was not the reaction he wanted. 

“Oh, right, of course you weren’t!” You rolled your eyes, noticing how Enzo flinched just slightly at your reaction, his gaze fixed on the way your fists clenched as you tried to hold yourself back. “Is that why you let that fucking girl throw herself at you?” You shot back, not really waiting for a response, as you took a step closer.

Enzo held your gaze, and for a moment, his usual charming smile faltered, replaced by something more vulnerable. But he quickly masked it with his familiar defiance, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes met yours with that challenge you knew all too well. 

“Oh, come on!” He said, standing up from the chair with a bit of awkwardness, his eyes following you as you got closer, his throat tightening as he swallowed. For a moment, it was hard to tell if it was vulnerability or eagerness in his gaze, or maybe both. “She didn’t mean anything, and you know that,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he watched as you moved closer, his usual confidence flattering. 

“That’s not the damn point, Lorenzo!” you snapped again, your frustration building as you stepped even closer, refusing to acknowledge the way his gaze lingered on you.

“It’s the fact that you let it happen, knowing damn well I was right there. You wanted me to get angry, just to see if I’d snap.” You stood before him now, your eyes burning into his, not ready to lose once again.

Enzo was beginning to get frustrated, hating how his mistakes and sick games were coming back to bite him, but that wasn’t what upset him the most. Under the surface, there was a part of him that wanted you to react like you always did—letting him take control of the situation, giving him the pleasure he craved. But another part of him couldn’t help but enjoy this side of you—the bitter, sour side.

It made him wonder how far you would go before it broke you or what you would do before that happened.

He continued to watch you carefully, his eyes flicking over your face as if searching for the reaction he so desperately craved. A hint of hesitation lingered in his posture. “Maybe I want that,” he admitted, barely above a whisper, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Maybe I wanted to see if you’d fight for me. If you'd... show me that I mean enough to you to get that reaction, like you always do.” Enzo continued, and you furrowed your brows.

You took another step closer, closing the distance between you, feeling your anger morph into something darker—something raw and almost intense, your heart racing. “You think I wouldn’t care?” you said, your voice low, but with a sharpness that even surprised you. “I’m your fucking girlfriend! You really think I’d just stand back and let you play your games without reminding you who you belong to?” You snapped, your words barely a whisper, fighting to keep control, but the edge in your voice betraying you.

A flash of surprise and excitement crossed Enzo’s face, and for a moment, it seemed like he was about to say something, to defend himself. But instead, he bit his lip, clearly satisfied with your response. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you, his hands gripping each other, as if holding himself back.

He wanted you so much in that moment that it made him feel sick with need.

You took another step, your chest now pressed against his, feeling his warm breath against your skin. “I don’t want to play games every day, Enzo,” you admitted softly, but your eyes mirrored the hunger and craving in his. As much as you loved the games, they were starting to tire you out. “I want you. All of you. Without having to fight for it every time.” You watched as he swallowed at your words.

He was starting to get heavier, his rational instincts slipping away, as if his brain was losing control. His hands were sweating, gripping each other tightly, his neck and body trembling, and his throat went dry as he fought to keep himself together.

Enzo didn’t know how much power words could have over him, how they could excite him to the core and strip away his rational thoughts. A part of him hated himself for how he used to take action instead of simply listening to what you had to say. He was sure his heart and veins might explode at any moment.

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek, his touch almost tender. “You already have all of me.” He admitted, his breath ragged.

“I do?” you asked, your eyes lingering on his lips, the moment feeling almost obscene. But Enzo seemed too distracted.

“Heart, body, and soul,” he whispered, his voice steady but low, his breathing growing heavier with each word. “You can have me anytime. I’m yours to ruin.”

With that, you couldn’t take it anymore. Before he could say another word, you gripped his neck, pulling him toward you and kissing him with such intensity and dominance that he was sure he was losing himself in it.

The kiss was rough and erotic, like an inferno consuming you both from the inside out. Your boyfriend couldn’t help but gasp as he felt your nails scratching down the back of his neck, pulling him even closer against your body. You could feel his hard length pressing against you, but you didn’t care.

You continued to kiss Lorenzo, tongues tangling and teeth grazing each other as any hint of restraint vanished moments ago. Your bodies pressed together, harder with every second, until he could feel his pants growing painfully tight around him. You both savored the familiar flavor of each other, but there was a nostalgic hunger in this kiss, one that left you both drunk with need, as if it were the first time all over again.

You dragged your nails down his neck, marking his skin with fierce intent, and he felt himself surrendering further to your control, a thrill he hadn’t expected but now craved. It was as if he were letting your pent-up anger devour him, wild and unrestrained, leaving him utterly at your mercy.

And God knows he was loving every second of it.

The way you were consuming him felt maddening, and he clung to you desperately, as if you were the only thing keeping him alive. He’d forgotten how your tongue was the one that stole the air from his lungs, how your hands gripped and scratched at his neck. He was so lost in the sensation of your body against his that he didn’t even realize when you were both completely bare.

It wasn’t until your hard nipples brushed against his skin that he froze, a deep groan escaping him as he pulled away from the kiss, his tongue slipping from his mouth as he gasped for air.

Enzo looked at you, ignoring the pain in his neck as his eyes devoured your body with a familiar hunger. His tongue still hung from his mouth, and another moan slipped from his lips. Without warning, you moved closer, your tongue flicking out to tease his, dragging a slow, deliberate lick across it, making him groan again, unable to hold back.

He couldn’t help but feel his cock throbbing harder, knowing that if he looked down, he’d see it straining, bigger than it had ever been before.

But Enzo couldn’t help it. You’d never done that before. He’d never felt your tongue lick his, at least not when you weren’t kissing or tangled in one of your make-out sessions. This was different. You’d only given him a taste, and Lord knows how much he craved another. It was like you’d woken something deep hidden inside him.

“Again,” he almost begged, his voice thick with need. You looked at him, watching as he pushed his tongue out again, desperate. “Again, please,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. You couldn’t help but smirk, grabbing his neck and pulling him closer, your tongue meeting his in a slow, teasing lick. You devoured his tongue, feeling the slickness of his muscle against yours, swallowing his moans as your tongue dominated his. 

His hand gripped your ass, holding you against him as if he were trying to keep himself from collapsing. He let out a breath against your tongue when he felt your nails dragging over his skin, a sharp reminder that no matter how much he touched you, tonight he had no control over you.

And you couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction.

You kept licking his tongue with yours, savoring every bit of his taste, staying just far enough to keep from kissing him but close enough to feel the heat of his tongue. But now, it wasn’t just your tongues that were rubbing together. A moan escaped you, just like Enzo’s, as you felt his cock sliding against your bare pussy, his hips grinding, desperate to press himself deeper into you.

“Enzo,” you moaned, pulling your tongue from his and ignoring his desperate protest, too consumed by the way his cock pressed against you, even though he wasn’t inside yet. “Shit, Enzo, I need to ride you, fuck.” You moaned again, grinding your hips against his, your rhythm rougher, more demanding than his, taking control.

He moaned at your words, “Do it, oh please, do it.” Enzo gasped, letting himself be guided toward your bed, sitting at the edge as he gazed at your body, his legs growing weak from the soft blankets beneath him. But the softness of the sheets did nothing to ease his anxiety when his eyes locked on your glistening, bare pussy, soaked with desire. “Sit on me, please... Just let me be inside you,” he begged, his voice trembling, almost pathetic in its desperation.

You sat on his lap, both of you moaning as you felt his cock teasing your entrance, yet you didn’t let him inside—at least not yet. You let yourself play with him, grinding your hips against him, listening to his moans as his cock slid through your wet folds.

When he was on the edge of begging again, you finally gave him what he wanted, moaning as you sank down, feeling him stretch your walls, filling you completely.

“Fuck!” He screamed in a moan, his hands gripping your thighs as he felt you riding him, your hips moving back and forth, squeezing his cock in a way that made him gasp. “Your pussy feels so fucking good, princess,” he groaned, his voice broken. “So fucking tight… so good.”

You could see the tears in Enzo’s eyes, and it only made you ride him harder, faster, your hips grinding down on him with more force. You arched your back, feeling him get impossibly tighter inside you, your walls clenching around him as you moved.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, his body shaking as you rode him.

He was moaning loudly, unable to remember the last time you two had such passionate sex, but he was loving every fucking second of it. He didn’t care that he’d begged for you to ride his dick like this—what mattered was the way your cunt squeezed him, how your thighs wrapped tightly around his torso, the way your back arched as you moaned, and how close he was to fucking cumming.

It was too much; he needed to let go, to cum inside you.

“Princess, fuck… I need to cum, please, let me. He begged, tears slipping from his eyes as he spoke. But you pulled him closer, your arms tight around his neck, bringing his face to your hard nipples, letting him kiss and suck on them.

“Me too, me too,” you moaned, breath hot against his ear as you felt his mouth teasing your nipples, the sweet contrast to the filthy act you were both caught in. With each moan, his cock slid deeper, pressing harder into you. “Let’s cum together, okay?” you asked, and Enzo nodded eagerly, pulling you tighter against him as his hips ground against yours.

The pace quickened, rougher now, and soon you both came together, your bodies shaking as you reached your release. Breathing heavily.

Enzo looked up at you, breathing heavily, his eyes filled with tears. You had to fight the urge to come again from the sight of him, so you stayed silent, watching his desperate gaze. You could feel the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through both your bodies as his hands roamed your back, his eyes still full of hunger, the desire never fading. But you didn’t speak, letting him take the first step.

“I...” he began, his breath ragged as he struggled to speak. “Princess, let me clean you up, please,” he asked, almost whining. You blink softly, trying to process his request. “Let me eat your pussy; I’ll be quick, I promise,” he pleaded, his desperate chocolate eyes locking with yours. Seeing the need in his gaze, you couldn’t help but nod, giving in to his request.

Enzo let out a relieved sigh when you nodded, lifting you carefully off the bed and sitting you back where he had been. You felt his cum from the sheets smear against your thighs, a shiver running through your body as the sticky liquid made contact with your skin, making you gasp with the sensation.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look so fucking good from here,” Enzo whispered, his eyes locked on you as he knelt between your legs. “Your pussy’s so damn pretty,” he murmured to himself, his hands slowly spreading your legs apart, making a shiver run through your body.

“Enzo,” you murmured in anticipation, feeling your throat salivate with need.

“Just a moment, I just need to look a little more,” he said, his eyes fixed on your pussy with pure craving, his chest rising and falling with each breath. “So fucking pretty,” he muttered, leaning in closer to your folds, his pupils dilating as he took in how wet you were. He couldn’t help but let out a groan, his fingers moving to touch you.

With his touch, you moaned, his fingers moving slowly from top to bottom as he felt your arousal from your first orgasm coating his fingers. You could feel his other hand on your thighs, his fingers teasing, almost reaching your ass.

Enzo brought one of his fingers to his mouth, sucking your release off with obscene eagerness, and you couldn’t help but grip the sheets tightly as you watched his tongue circle around his finger, savoring every drop. The other hand grabbing your tight again.

“Oh, princess, you’re so sweet,” he groaned, his face inching closer to your cunt. But before he could take his first lick, he paused, extending his arm and placing his fingers, still coated in your wetness, in front of your mouth. “Can you suck them for me, sweetheart? Please?” You nodded eagerly, sucking his fingers clean, and once they were coated with your saliva, he buried his face between your legs, the first lick merging with the next as he devoured you hungry.

That was heaven.

“Enzo!” you almost screamed as he licked and sucked your folds with feverish intensity, his nose pressing against your folds as his tongue plunged into your wet core. It was messy—so fucking messy—that he seemed lost between your legs, as if he wasn’t trying to escape, he wanted to stay there, devouring you, tasting you, being dragged into madness.

And you didn’t mind; your fingers tangling in his sweaty hair, pushing his face harder against your pussy as you screamed his name. You didn’t want him to stop, and even if you did, he wouldn’t. Not with the way his tongue was relentlessly devouring and penetrating your cunt with perfect precision. It was messy—wild—but he didn’t care, and you even less. He was lost in the sensation, giving everything he had to please you, and he loved every second of it.

Your taste was making Enzo moan, making him drunk with the flavor. He couldn’t help but moan against your pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through your body, causing you to moan uncontrollably. “Oh, princess, you have such a pretty moans,” he murmured against your pussy, savoring every drop of your previous release.

Without warning, you came hard against his mouth, screaming his name with fervor, and he swallowed everything he could, savoring all the screams, while the rest of your cum mixed with his own release, soaking the sheets beneath you both.

You could had cum again with the sight.

Enzo pulled away from you, your arousal still on his chin, breathing heavily as he stared up at you with his usual mischievous grin, all his begging going away. “You know, I think I should flirt with other girls more often,” he teased, his voice warm as he sat on the floor, his eyes locked on you still perched on the bed.

“Shut up!” You playfully kicked him, causing him to laugh. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but there was no real bite behind your words.

He laughed again, his gaze softening as he looked at you with love. And for the first time, you seemed to be looking forward for his next mistake.

Loving Lorenzo was intoxicating, but nothing made you feel more alive than he did.

© 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚝₂₀₂₄ — 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎.

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

this is my first lorenzo berkshire one-shot, so please be kind and respectful! also it’s 4 am so might have grammar mistakes.

thanks for being my fav beta readers: @bucksplum & @earth4angels love you both (a little) 🐣 < 3

[hrrtshape]

EMMA ‼️😭😔 hiii sorry for this but ur old posts don't work and I wanna read them sbbb. like example I try to open the shifting manifesto or imperfections in ur fame Dr but it says nk posts found 😔 when its possible !! pleaseee fix it🙏

yeah, no, some of them have simply ceased to exist. vanished into the ether. poof. my precious manifesto included. like i am tolstoy, and they have just set fire to my manuscripts in some pre-revolutionary fever dream. some fool with an administrative panel and a god complex has put me on a no-fly list, a watchlist, some kind of spectral blacklist where words go to die.

i tried editing my masterlist. tried. like some poor, doomed soul fumbling with a rusted lock. except, plot twist, the key doesn’t exist.

i mean, let’s be clear, what we’re dealing with here isn’t just data loss. it’s an ideological erasure. a censorship of the soul. my words have been unceremoniously executed, scrubbed from the record, buried without so much as a gravestone. i am in mourning. i am in exile. i am standing at the gates of digital hell, pleading for entry, only to be told: no vacancy. go away, schizophrenic.

nasa is probably monitoring this. and by "probably," i mean, obviously. obviously, this is the work of some clandestine government programme designed to suppress the voices of those who dare to articulate too precisely.........

in conclusion: i am under siege, and the internet is a hostile nation-state. send reinforcements. send encryption. send lawyers, guns, and money (bits of coin).

i'm planning to rewrite all of it though. so. !1!!!

[citrvsbat]

AAAAA RANPOE💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💥💥💥💥💥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[annamatsusunshine]

I CAN FINALLY SAY I HAVE PLAYED ALL THE GAMES AND GET ALL THE REFERENCES ‼️

[mikqchoux]

you say "the whole world's ending"

honey, it already did.

[triglycercule]

horrortale waterfall game broke me sorry (hey just like horror!)

[nemesyaaa]

ughhhh i will need a part2 or i will die ???? i love Reading for Enzo so much especially when writers make him evil like omg this freak is so mean 🤓🤓 this was so fucking good !!! my mouth was gagged all the time. your writing is always so yummy ‼️‼️

“What’s with the attitude today, huh? Have I not fucked you enough this week?” he asked, faking a pout with his reddened lips. He tilted his head to the side mockingly. You scoffed. — ughhh this man. always talking and thinking with his dic' 😭

“What can I do for you?” he whispered. “Sorry for shouting at you earlier,” he whispered. Your thumb scraped across his mouth. At the sensation, a pink tongue darted between them and caressed gently over your skin. You smiled once more. You could get very used to seeing him on his knees like this.  — ahhhhhhh when he's on his knees

“You ever act like that in front of my friends again and I’ll fuck this tight cunt right in front of them and the entire fucking school. I’ll tie you up like I have you right now and let every single student and professor watch as I end you.” — and now, he's back into the dom one 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿 his insane brain, im gonna marry him

“Say you’re sorry.” He began to pump rapidly into you. Every single thrust hammered into every spot you needed him to. He was relentless with his pace. — the temperature is getting crazier and crazier

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” he smirked down at you. You rolled your eyes. — « sweetheart »

“Enzo, what—?” He interrupted you by pulling the gag back over your mouth, retightening it against your mouth and walking back behind you. He smoothed your skirt over the length of your back, ensuring that your ass was exposed, pumped full of his cum. He double-checked that your arms were fastened tightly against your back. You struggled against the desk, cussing his every fucking movement as best you could through the gag. — if i dont get a part2, my soul will die 😔😔 he needs to pay please. also, how can you do that to your girlfriend ??? he's so sick and I'm here for that

RETURN THE FAVOR // e. berkshire

RATING: R / 3.2K WORDS

Enzo Berkshire x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* When an altercation between Enzo and you gets you both thrown in detention, Enzo decides to take a bit of anger out on you.

+ WARNINGS - (Y'all, this is filthy) SMUT! PIV (no protection), mean dom!Enzo, Top!Enzo, Bottom!Reader, very brief Sub!Enzo, fingering (f!receiving), spanking, bondage, use of tie as gag, mentions of a slap in the face (x2), Reader is struggling (but still consensual), kinda bratty!Reader, public sex, generally rough sex, desk sex, degradation, name-calling, female reader, fem anatomy, language (lmk if I missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Slow Down - Chase Atlantic

- - -

The events of the morning had flown by so quickly, you’d barely even grasped what had happened. You knew there had been some kind of fight that you had been involved in where you were yelling at Theodore Nott for picking on a Hufflepuff. You knew that his little friend group had tried to shout back at you and that your current lover, Enzo Berkshire, had also pushed back against you.

That had pushed you over the edge, and you’d laid a slap across his cheek, lighting it up with red blush. By the time the professors had flown through the door, handing out detention slips, you’d hardly processed a thing that had happened.

There was a fight. You’d slapped Enzo Berkshire across the face. You were currently in detention for the rest of the day. Enzo Berkshire was sitting directly across from you. Those facts were clear.

The desks in the extra classroom you sat in were arranged in a debate circle, where the two of you were angled in front of each other. A pink handprint glowed brightly on his cheek, accentuating his chiseled cheekbone even more than before. His eyes were cut so angrily he might’ve evaporated you on the spot.

“If you have something to say, Enzo…,” you started, crossing your arms and staring right back at him. “Then you’d better spit it out now because I’m getting really tired of you staring at me like that. Hasn't anyone ever taught you that that was rude?”

He scoffed, an evil smirk cracking across his lips. “You’d better watch it. There’s no professor here.”

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “Whatever will I do? Seriously, Enzo, what the hell do you think you’re going to do to me? I could best you in a duel any day.”

“McGonagall took our wands. What do you think you’re going to do?” he challenged, leaning forward onto the wooden desk.

“Maybe if you’d pay better attention in class, you’d be a bit better at wandless magic by now.” You cocked your head and shot him a teasing smile. 

He could talk a big game, but you’d shut him up perfectly well when you’d slapped him earlier. If he wanted to continue to insult you, you had no qualms with hitting him again. Just as he said, there was no professor in the room with you. You could easily get away with a second assault. 

Suddenly, he stood and crossed to the front of his desk. He leaned his body against it, crossing one ankle in front of the other, and setting back comfortably. His eyes watched your every move. A single strand of hair slipped loose from his expertly styled hair, tracing the line of his perfectly crooked nose. 

“What’s with the attitude today, huh? Have I not fucked you enough this week?” he asked, faking a pout with his reddened lips. He tilted his head to the side mockingly. You scoffed.

“Enzo, don’t be stupid. This has nothing to do with that. I told you in the middle of the argument that I was going to slap you if you didn’t get out of my face. And what did you do?”

“I didn’t back down from you, little girl.”

“And you got hit for it, dumbass.” You crossed your arms and leaned against the desk. While Enzo was the best body you’d had in a long, long while, you weren’t going to let his immaculate dick get in the way of your self-esteem. The Slytherin boys had a bit of a reputation for using girls, getting tired of them, then ditching them and leaving them with half of the confidence they had to begin with.

Enzo had an incredibly sculpted body, almost specifically designed for the rough sport of Quidditch he seemed to excel at. From the first time you saw him zipping through the sky—taut body stretching to catch the Quaffle and send it flying into the goalpost with the force of someone twice his size—you knew you had to have him. And that night, after the Slytherins had won and the after party had concluded, you had laid him down and rode him so ferociously, you’d locked him in from that moment on. As much as he loved to deny it, he needed you badly. 

You smirked.

He slowly waltzed across the classroom. His shoes clicked against the polished floors, echoing slightly off of the empty stone walls. Your eyes trained slowly upwards as he drew closer and closer before he stopped just before your desk. His intention was to hover over you and to make you feel small, but the seething stare you kept imprinted on his bright eyes ensured that you were in charge, not him. 

“Maybe it’s about time you had a bit of punishment,” he suggested. He placed the tips of his fingers on the edge of the desk, gently gliding them along the dented wood. A single fingernail absentmindedly traced some name carved messily into the desk. 

“Punishment?” you laughed. “If anything, it’s you who needs it. Maybe one hit wasn’t enough for you. I seem to recall the first night we fucked, you seemed to like it quite a bit when I’d hit you across the face, just like this morning. Tell me, baby, did you get hard when I did it earlier in front of all of your friends?” 

His fist came down hard on the table. You stood abruptly, backing away from his heaving body. The smirk refused to leave your lips. You pulled away slightly, leaning against one of the desks farther behind the one you previously occupied. You’d never seen him this mad before.

“Oh,” you pouted. “Did I hit a soft spot? God, imagine what your friends think. They know I’ve been fucking with you for the last few months, so what do they think, knowing I have complete control of you?”

“Yeah, right,” he snorted, inching closer to you, weaving in and out of desks and chairs.

“Enzo, baby, let’s be honest,” you smiled. “You’re like a dog on a leash. When I whistle, you come. In both the physical and transporting sense.” You continued to walk backwards, fingers caressing along desks as you passed by them. 

“Oh, you think this is a game? You think you’re in control?” he asked. You nodded sweetly. Anyone could see that you were, even those on the outside looking in.

“Aren’t I?” you asked. “You’re the one chasing after me here.” At your words, he stopped in his tracks and laughed meanly. He watched you closely as he slowly sat himself down in a wooden chair. The light creaking beneath his weight interrupted the echoing of his breathing. 

“Come here, baby,” he said gently, patting his lap with one heavy hand.

“Hmm, no. Try again.” You crossed your arms obstinately. He glanced around absentmindedly for a few moments as if thinking about something before he seemed to land on his solution. A small smile briefly flashed across his lips before disappearing again. Then, his eyebrows knitted together pitifully, as if he was on the verge of crying.

He slid down out of the chair, letting his knees hit the raw ground with a soft thud. His hands came forward, finding their position on the dusty floorboards, fingers streaking in the dirt. On all fours, he slowly began to crawl towards you. A few inches every second, a few breaths between his swollen lips, a few wobbles of his jaw, then he was paused before you with his lips hovering against your bare legs. 

You watched closely as he dragged his bottom lip from your knee up to the hem of your skirt before pulling away. A smile found its way on to your face at his behavior. At this point, all he needed to do was beg for forgiveness and offer his body up for the single use of your personal pleasure. Merlin, that would be the fucking day. 

“What do you say, baby?” you whispered, hand coming down to grab a hold of his jaw. You tilted his face up higher to look at you more directly. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for shouting at you earlier,” he whispered. Your thumb scraped across his mouth. At the sensation, a pink tongue darted between them and caressed gently over your skin. You smiled once more. You could get very used to seeing him on his knees like this. 

“I appreciate that, but I don’t think I can fully forgive you until you seek a bit more penance. In a physical form.” 

At that, you pushed yourself fully onto the desk behind you, legs falling slowly open. You revealed yourself to him. Between your decision to not wear tights today and the fact that your panties were hardly solid fabric as is, you figured it wouldn’t be much of a struggle to get him against you. His eyes glanced down beneath your skirt before flicking back up to you. He swallowed thickly, his throat tracking the shaky movement the whole way down. 

“What can I do for you?” he whispered. 

“Anything you want—just pleasure me and make me believe that you’re sorry.” 

Not a moment passed before he was jumping up from his position on the floor and crossing the remaining space between you two. You yelped as his hands trapped themselves behind your knees and tugged you toward the edge of the desk you sat atop. Before you had a chance to react to his annoying insubordination, he flipped your hips and pressed your chest roughly into the old wood. You shrieked at the assault, feeling a breeze inching its way up your back. His hands had yours tightly trapped behind your back. 

“Enzo! Let me go right fucking now!” you screamed. 

“Nuh uh, shush now,” he tutted. “You told me to pleasure you in any way that I wanted. I’ve decided what I want.” His words were menacing. A chill spread down your spine. 

With both of your wrists collected in his left hand, he freed his right to slip a finger behind his tie and loosen it. He pulled it from around his neck and rapidly fastened it around your wrists, binding them tightly against your back. You yelped at the tension burning against your shoulders.

“Fuck, Enzo! That’s too tight. Loosen it now or I swear—!” you started. His hands were then around your neck, interrupting your empty threats and loosening your tie, as well. You thrashed against his body but his hips pressed against your ass kept you locked against the desk.

“I swear to Merlin, you'd better let me up or I’ll scream.”

“Well, we can’t have any of that.” Suddenly, your tie appeared in front of your eyes in a flash. It slipped between your teeth and pulled tight against the edges of your mouth. He fastened the uniform fabric around the back of your head, careful to avoid tying your hair into it. You grunted rebelliously against the gag, trying to kick at him with your legs. 

“Besides, if I’m going to make you feel as good as I plan to, this’ll come in handy for how loud you’re about to scream.” His voice was a gravelly whisper against your ear, lips brushing against the shell. 

Eventually, you stopped struggling, and, at that point, he chuckled in your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

He leaned up from where he’d been sprawled against your back and slowly pushed your skirt over your hips, revealing your ass to the cold air. You moaned against the gag as his thumb slid slowly through your slit, tracing the wetness that had already started to pool from the edge of your core to your entrance. He hissed at the warmth you gave off.

“I don’t know why you fight me so much—if you’d just lie still and let me fuck you, I think you’d be in a much better mood.” 

Then he was pulling your lace panties to the side and sliding a hot finger into you. You gasped, body tensing against the desk, as he spread you apart. It never mattered how many times he did this—you never got used to the stretch every part of his body provided to you. Before you’d even adjusted to the first one, he pushed a second finger in, and then a third. 

By the time he pulled his fingers from you, you were already dripping down the length of your thighs and the sides of his wrist. Behind you, you heard him place his fingers across his tongue and suck your essence from his skin. 

You rolled your jaw against the desk, propping your chin up to catch a glimpse of the door. The thought of a student or—worse—a professor walking in and catching the two of you made your stomach grumble with nausea. But, on the flip side, it also seemed to ramp up the heat in your abdomen. For some reason, the thought made you all the more ready for him to push himself into you.

Which, luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for. Without another breath, he worked his pants down his waist and legs and placed both hands on your ass. His fingers dug into your skin, massaging the muscle soothingly before laying a heavy slap to your right side. You stifled a scream against the desk. Your skin stung as if it’d been placed against fire. His fingers returned to the skin to move the heat around. 

Once he felt as though the pain had been appeased enough, he laid an even harder slap to your left side. This time, a bit of a shriek did break through the silence. You groaned at the pain, kicking your leg up and making sharp contact with his shin.

“Ah! You little shit.” He slammed his hand down on your ass again. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling. You couldn’t deny it—the thought only accelerated the wetness between your legs more. Fuck, you hated what he did to you. 

He reached around and pulled your gag from between your lips suddenly. The saliva-soaked fabric hung limply around your neck. “Now,” he growled in your ear. “Say you’re sorry for slapping me.”

“But you—” He shut you up by slamming himself into you down to the hilt. He slapped a hand around your mouth as you screamed out. 

“Say you’re sorry.” He began to pump rapidly into you. Every single thrust hammered into every spot you needed him to. He was relentless with his pace.

“I’m sorry,” you cried out against his hand. Your hands clenched tightly where they were wound against your back, fingernails biting into your palms. 

Finally, he pulled himself off of you and gathered your hips into his hands once more. He fucked you hard and rough, demanding that you feel every inch of him. His hip bones slammed against your ass with cracks that echoed like magic. Your eyes rolled upwards at the pleasure he forced into your body. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic. Hitting me then pretending like you run this show. I fuck you, not the other way around. At the end of the night, you’re the one screaming into my shoulder; you’re the one pulling me closer with your legs; you’re the one clenching me with this dripping cunt. And who gets you like this every time—fucking soaked and begging for more? Fucking me, you stupid slut. You think you can treat me like that, huh?” He punctuated his question with an especially hard thrust. You whimpered, teeth clenching briefly around the edge of the desk. “You ever act like that in front of my friends again and I’ll fuck this tight cunt right in front of them and the entire fucking school. I’ll tie you up like I have you right now and let every single student and professor watch as I end you.”

You whined aloud at his words. The images he painted in your mind ramped the sensations he was giving you to a million. Every movement he pushed into you urged you closer and closer to that sweet release you were desperate before. 

As you started to tighten around him, he chuckled meanly. His fingers dug into your hips. “Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Just like you do every time?”

You said nothing. He grabbed your tied hands and pulled you upwards, forcing your back into his chest. The new angle hit an especially deep spot inside of you. You gasped at the feeling. You were right on the edge of your release.

“Answer me!” he growled.

“Yes! Enzo, please, baby. I’m so fucking close,” you whined aloud. 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” He pushed you back onto the desk and forced himself against you faster and faster until the bubble in your stomach was bursting and raining down across his and your thighs. He groaned as the wet slick painted his skin. 

Once your high began to diminish, he pumped himself into you relentlessly until he was coming hard. He forced every ounce of his spend deep into you until he was finished and caught his breath. Once he was done, he pulled himself out of you.

“I think that ought to teach you, baby.” He pulled his pants back onto his hips and fastened his belt. You could feel his release pulsing out of your core and seeping down your legs. Sweat dripped down your forehead. Your ass was still exposed. 

“Whatever, Enzo. Just untie me,” you said. He paused and walked around to the front of the desk you laid across. You watched his body make every step until he stopped before you. A single hand came down to tilt your chin up towards him, just as you had done to him earlier.

“What was that?” he whispered. His voice was like steel.

“I asked you to untie me.”

“I don’t recall you asking anything. You demanded. Haven’t you learned anything?” he asked, clicking his tongue disappointingly. You scoffed. He couldn’t be serious.

“Okay, I get the point, En. Now, untie me. A professor or student could walk in at any time.”

“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” he smirked down at you. You rolled your eyes.

“Merlin. Please!” you sighed. 

“Mm, I think it’s too late for that. Your attitude fucking sucks. I shouldn’t have to ask you to say please. It seems this little session didn’t teach you much of a lesson.” 

He paused for a moment, then smiled decidedly. “Maybe this will, sweetheart.”

“Enzo, what—?” He interrupted you by pulling the gag back over your mouth, retightening it against your mouth and walking back behind you. He smoothed your skirt over the length of your back, ensuring that your ass was exposed, pumped full of his cum. He double-checked that your arms were fastened tightly against your back. You struggled against the desk, cussing his every fucking movement as best you could through the gag. 

He leaned down beside your ear and placed a small kiss to the shell of it. “Let’s learn from our mistakes, baby.”  

Then, with a whoosh, he Disapparated and rendered the room into complete silence. You scoffed in surprise, eyes widening and breath heaving in and out. There was no fucking way he just left you like this. 

The next time you saw Enzo Berkshire, you were going to make sure you returned the fucking favor. Exactly how he had. 

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn , @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74

[mrbrightxside]

Stupid little Moral Orel comic with Orel and Reverend Putty to express something

[f0rgetf0rgetting]

the brainrot goes crazy when do i get normal

[skullsandcorals]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @apiratefellinlovewithastar 🤭💜💜💜 !!!!

I hope you like it ;)

(click for better quality if you're on the mobile app. do not repost.)

[raptorladylover6969]

top reasons why I think The Handler is 100000x better than Owen Grady

1: She’s a female

2: She’s not a boy

3: She’s a girl

4: She has XX chromosomes

5: She’s not a male

6: She’s a woman

7: She has a uterus

8: The Y chromosome was never delivered

9: She has a cool design

10: Her raptors actually like her

11: She actually knows what she’s doing

12: She’s smart

13: Her outfit absolutely slays

14: Has a snatched waist

15: Isnt ugly

16: probably indestructible

17: shes a cutie patootie

18: actually an interesting character

19: everything is better when a woman does it

20: she’s THAT girl.

21: im gay

[artbyfuji]

Hope you all had a frightful STRQOWEEN 🎃👻

[the-meme-monarch]

about to start season 2 of gravity falls and hey are we done with Mabel Has To So Much As Tolerate A Guy Who Wants To Date her That She’s Not Fucking Interested In plots