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criminalamnesia · 3 months

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Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

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ttsukiimi · 28 days

Text

❛ A CONCUBINE’S DUTY! ❜

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you. "You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that."

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, smut (mdni), fingering, implied size differece, overstimulation, slight choking, slight nipple play, sukuna uses a tongue on his hand, multiple orgasms, reader passes out for some minutes, oral (female receiving), sukuna referred to as lord, reader referred to as (woman)

Your legs seemed to tremble under you with each nervous step you took, threatening to give out under the weight of unease settling into you. And there was no denying it, after weeks of your initial arrival, Sukuna had finally summoned you--though your heart felt heavy and skittish in your chest.

Some have described him as immoral, wicked...malevolent even. How would he treat you? A lowly concubine, not to mention he had countless others.

In the midst of your thinking, you failed to notice you had arrived to his chamber. You opened the door and met with the sight of Sukuna, sat on his throne and deliciously manspread.

His eyes lit up as he saw you, interested, his mind already racing with thoughts of what he'd do to you.

Quickly, you bowed to the ground, your ears perking at the unusual sound of his deep yet rich laughter.

"How amusing. Up," he ordered, and you complied. You awkwardly stood at the foot of his throne, your neck craning up just to have a look at him, and though you felt so small, as if you were prey, you slowly began to admire him. It's the first time you've seen him this up close, and you’re not afraid to say that he’s devilishly handsome.

Sukuna patted his thigh, now your personal seat, and you sat. “You seem uptight.” He rasped in your ear, his upper hands fondling with your chest while his lower held you in place. “Let's fix that.”

And after came the sound of your top being ripped to shreds, a gasp leaving your parted lips as he began to play with your nipples. You failed to stifle the moans that poured out of your mouth, embarrassed as he hadn’t even really done anything yet.

He noticed this and grinned. “I think I’ll enjoy you,”

One of his hands snaked down to the innermost part of your thigh, his long fingers swiping up and down your sopping folds, collecting your slick. Sukuna inwardly groaned at the wet feeling and pushed a finger into your hole, gritting his teeth in resistance at how tightly you clamped around his digit.

"Fuck, don't think I'll fit." he sighed smugly, adding another and beginning to slowly move them and out. "But I think you can take it, can't you?"

You nodded. That was all you wanted in the moment--the hard cock you could feel rising under your ass--but you knew not to speak until spoken to. Your hands moved on their own to his lap and palmed his erection, an amused look blooming on his face.

Sukuna removed his finger from your cunt and shoved them into your mouth, reaching your throat and causing you to choke. "You don't have permission to touch me yet, woman" he hummed. "But I guarantee your pussy will determine if you get to or not."

Tears welled down your cheeks as you gasped for air, chest heaving, and your heart rate only skyrocketed as you felt the tip of his cock lined up to your entrance.

He thrust himself in, not giving you any time to adjust to his abnormally huge size. Sukuna sucked his teeth--just as he thought--you were too tight for him to move.

"Relax some," his voice boomed in your ear, and you tried your best to do so. But he was impatient, dying to feel you sucking around him, and began fucking up into you soon after.

Sukuna had this...thing of his. He was known for 'sometimes' being too rough on his concubines, leaving them unable to walk and passed out after he was done--but those were for his pure amusement. This time, he thinks, he won't be able to hold himself back from breaking you.

Your moans echoed throughout the spacious room, eyes closing shut in a mix of pain and pleasure. "Lord Sukuna!" you mewled, feeling wetness slide down your thighs, trembling as the intrusion of his cock left your back arched in pleasure.

"Tch. I don't remember giving you permission to talk either." he gritted his teeth, a hand cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look up him. Sukuna held eye contact with you, occasionally breaking the contact to stare at the way your tits bounced as he fucked you.

He felt so deep, reaching the spots you didn't know could even be touched, his tip brushing past your sweet spot every so often. And you felt so overstimulated, quivering in his hold, but Sukuna's hand slid down to your thighs once more, and there was suddenly a tongue lapping at your pussy.

You had forgotten he could do that.

"mmf--!" you were cut off by a hand squeezing your throat. Your orgasm came crashing down onto you, swooping you off your feet and it had you seeing stars as you came on his cock.

Though, until he was done, nothing was done. You came two more times until he finally pulled out, spurting his hot seed on your tits and face, admiring his work after.

What you didn't expect was for the king of curses to place you on his throne and drop to the ground. Sukuna grinned mischievously up at you.

"You're the first I've kneeled before. You should revel in that." he spoke before he began to eat you out, slurping at your wetness and sucking on your puffy, red clit. Something in him was enjoying this a bit too much.

He watched you break down in front of him, trembling, trying your best to keep your eyes and legs open for the man under you, but by your sixth you were spent, unable to control your limp limbs anymore.

Sukuna's face covered in slick was the last thing you saw before your vision dotted black, and you were out. When you finally came to, you weren't in your room, and by the way his cum still dripped from your body, you could tell it wasn't long after you passed out.

Your vision darted around; the lavish bed you woke up on, the intricate details everywhere--it couldn't be.

But a door opened and there was Sukuna, a towel hung loosely over his hips, his blush pink hair wet and dripping onto his skin. He walked towards you, drying his hair before he sat down on the opposite side of the bed. "You'll be sleeping here from now on."

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theostrophywife · 9 months

Text

shut up kiss me.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.

author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭

Theodore. Fucking. Nott.

Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far.

You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy.

“Where the hell is he?”

He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”

“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.”

The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”

The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst.

“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”

“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”

Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!”

Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard.

You were going to kill him.

“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso.

“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”

Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”

Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?”

“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”

“Just hear him out, okay?”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.”

“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.”

“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.”

You huffed. “That makes two of us.”

The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively.

“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”

“For what?”

“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?”

“He deserved it.”

“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?”

Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.”

“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?”

His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?”

Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.”

You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?”

When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury.

“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.”

The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.

“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.”

You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go.

“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick.

“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”

“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.”

“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.”

You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence.

“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”

The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you.

For crying in front of your worst enemy.

The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer.

“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.”

Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.”

You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?”

He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you.

“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”

You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!”

Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.”

Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.”

The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up.

“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…”

Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?”

The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control.

“Because you never told me, you idiot!”

“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.”

You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was.

“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?”

Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest.

“Because at least you were thinking of me.”

You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once.

Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.”

He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up.

“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks.

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”

“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.”

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.”

Because at least you were thinking of me.

It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved.

“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.”

Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?”

You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field.

So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on.

“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin.

“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.”

Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.

“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?”

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed.

Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive.

If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning.

It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night.

Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place.

You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way.

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”

Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died.

Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste.

He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth.

“Need some help, love?”

You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat.

Then he fucking moaned.

It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”

“What is it, Theo?”

“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.”

“What are you saying, Theo?”

“I want you to be mine, Y/N.”

You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.”

“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.”

He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future.

You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you.

“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?”

He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.”

You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?”

“Everything about you turns me on.”

“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.”

“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.”

You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down.

“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.”

“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.”

“I bet you are, darling.”

You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.”

He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off.

On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?”

“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?”

“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.”

Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.”

“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.”

He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.”

You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.”

“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?”

“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”

“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.”

“Yes ma'am.”

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ozarkthedog · 2 months

Text

𝐊𝐍𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏

summary: joel fingers you for the first time in his truck.

warnings: 18+ mdni. joel miller x afab!reader. no physical descriptors of reader. fingering (pussy and ass). heavy ass play. Joel being a fucking menace. no beta. w.c: 823

author's note: had this thot for the last few days and had to write it out before i went insane but now i'm taking you all with meeee

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel's two knuckles deep in your cunt while an old country tune quietly floats from the radio into his dimly lit truck that's parked on the side of a dusty road. He languidly fucks his thick digits between your sopping folds, each thrust making your breath hitch more than the last.

He's taking it slow, figuring out what spots make your cunt spasm and quiver for the very first time. It's a mess of limbs in the front seat; your skirt is rucked up your hips, legs bent at the knee, and he's holding you against his side, cradling your head in the crook of his arm.

"Righ' 'ere?" he grits, swallowing hard as you clamp around his fingers.

You grab at his worn button-up, tightly fisting the material with a needy whine as a wave of pleasure burns deep, and he doubles his efforts with a twist of his wrist. "That's it. Come on, pretty girl, there you go."

Joel curls his fingers, seeking the fleshy spot behind your clit that makes you see stars and forces you to the edge listening with perverted delight to your frantic cries.

He leaves his fingers in your obscenely wet pussy just a bit longer, enjoying the feeling of your cunt convulsing from the aftershocks. He teases his soaked fingers along your slit when he withdraws them, toying with your folds and puffy, hairy outer lips before moving south.

A gasp catches in your throat as he cautiously circles your rosebud.

"Ever been touched 'ere?" Bright moonlight casts off his dark coffee-colored eyes as he searches your face for discomfort.

All you can muster is a broken "No," and he hums a deep rumble. It sounds like the beginning of a summer storm, and the ominous tone sets a blazing fire in your belly.

"s'ok if I keep goin'?" he asks, timidly looking down at you through his lashes. He shifts his hips, grinding his cock against your outer thigh. You mewl upon feeling his hard, throbbing length through his jeans.

You dumbly nod, and a sly grin tugs at the corner of his lips.

Your mouth drops open, panting, as he slowly presses one thick digit into your ass. He curses at your tightness but keeps moving until his knuckles graze the soft globes of your cheeks. "S'fuckin' tight lil' ass you got there, sweetheart." He croons, nudging his nose along your jaw and tipping your head back before branding you with a searing kiss.

You moan wantonly as he licks into your mouth and starts slowly fucking you. "Tell me how it feels." He husks, breaking the kiss.

His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and nipping his way down to your clavicle as your mind searches for anything remotely resembling words.

A mess of mumbled moans and broken curses stumble from your lips into the small truck cabin. Your hips move on their own, wanting his finger deeper and faster, but he never breaks his steady stride. He chuckles against your skin. "This sweet rose wants more, huh? First time bein' touched, and she's already gettin' greedy."

He leans back, pinning his eyes on where he's stretching you open, and groans at the filthy sight of his syrupy, thick fingers stretching your small, shiny hole. He meets your wild doe eyes with a wolfish grin before pursing his lips and spitting.

The shock of his warm spittle landing on the rim of your sensitive hole makes your insides violently churn, and a yearning, brazen moan spills from your lips.

"Gotta make sure it's nice n' wet," he says while lining up a second finger, still piercing your gaze. "Don't wanna hurt 'er."

He watches your face twist from the pressure as he slowly glides two sizeable fingers into your snug hole. "S'ok, you can take it," he calmly encourages, kissing the pinched skin between your brows.

He raises his thumb up and over your pusling, weepy core, and plants the heavy pad on your clit. He suffocates the tiny button, earning himself a full-on quiver and high-pitched wail from your defenseless, blissed-out body.

"Thatta girl. Feels good, don't it?" he grunts, thrusting his fingers deeper.

A solid buzz blossoms in your veins under his wicked touch. The dual action he's doling out with his insanely massive hand makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. So overcome with the depraved rapture, you can't help but give in to the delirium.

"Can feel you loosenin' up. S'good girl," he coos, smiling down at you even though your eyes are crossed dumb from the sheer euphoria racing through your veins.

"Pretty soon, she'll be stretched around my cock." he informs, hissing when he feels you tighten at his words. Your mouth falls open with a silent wail, and your spine bends like a bow ready to strike as he purrs sinfully in your ear. "Tha's righ'. Gonna make this sweet rose take every fuckin' inch."