“I don’t,” Nathaniel shrugged simply, resting his head against the wall. “But these kids do and I’m the one who’s gotta spend three hours on calming them down because they think they’re bad people,” he explained and just grabbed the cigarette out of Spencer’s hand, taking a drag from it. “Fuck that, in few months I’ll be finally gone from this shithole.”
“If you say so.” Subconsciously mimicking the other’s shrug with one of his own, bright hues watching the other curiously, brows furrowing at his clearly distressed state. At the mention of leaving Hogwarts, he couldn’t help but feel his heart drop knowing that the moment he left this place would be the moment he left his only home. A soft chuckle emits from his lips as the other takes his cigarette, resting a heavy head upon the shorter’s shoulders, “What are you going to do when you leave?”
The Scamander house celebrated both Hanukkah as well as Thanksgiving. As the former was coming to an end, the house was still a grand clutter of different decorations. Luna’s style was definitely just to throw a bunch of shit around and that was how she liked it— Lysander was constantly trying to straighten out ever lopsided ornament he found. He didn’t even wanted to get started on the small tree Rolf let Luna set up. Lysander slid into the bed and wrapped his limbs around Spencer, face buried in his chest. “I couldn’t sleep either.” He whispered. He’d messed with some potions before bed which caused some frightening nightmares.
Slender fingers carded within Lysander’s dark locks, finding temporary and blissful solace within their soft confine. For a moment, no words were said merely tightening his grip on the male and pressing and soft and lingering kiss upon his forehead, merely relishing in the other’s company. Family wasn’t something that Spencer had anymore and Lysander was the closest thing he had. “What’s it like? Being back home?” He whispered, wanting just a glimpse at the thoughts that were flickering around within that beautiful mind of the male within his arms.
“APPARENTLY, Christmas spirit to some Gryffindors means that they can just walk up to a first year from my house and tell them they’re just as responsible for anything that’s happening as those who are actually responsible for that simply because they’re in Slytherin. Love and Christmas is fucking all around us!”
“Why do you care so much about what people think/say?” Spencer mused, the smoke seeping out from the veiling of pink lips as brows furrow, cigarette hanging between slender fingers. “Slytherin’s will always be seen as the villains because it’s easier to pin it on us than to accept the haunting fact that we don’t know who is behind this shit. So best to just say fuck it and fuck. No point in worrying your pretty little head off.”
Lysander was extremely nervous when he mentioned Spencer to his mother and she insisted that the boy stay with them for the break. But it wasn’t bad— he made the nature walks Rolf forced them on to be not so horrible. In the middle of the night, Ly got up to go across the hall into the guest bedroom. He slipped quietly inside and leaned forward on the mattress. “Hey… are you awake?”
Spencer wasn’t quite accustomed to families where the parents accepted their children no matter what, which was what made spending his Christmas with the Scamander’s so foreign. Though the family members didn’t seem to always see eye to eye, they exuded love for one another and that was inspiring to the orphan. Sleep wasn’t something that Spencer particularly excelled with, insomnia plaguing his every night and the nightmares only seemed to momentarily desist when he had his limbs entangled with Lysander’s. Being in a house with so much love was...unsettling and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. A smirk preyed onto his lips when he heard the door open, grinning at the other with a soft chuckle, “Do you even have to ask?” Though he reaches forward to wrap his arms around the other, pulling him against him, “I knew you missed me.”
A soft chuckle emitted from his lips as he gave a shake of his head, “Easy there. I meant in a general sense. Like no point in ANY of us horny teenage boys fighting it. So you’re NOT fighting it then?” His thumb continuing to stroke the male’s cheek, grin widening at the feeling of the hand upon his neck, shivers erupting upon his flesh, “My room then?” Ducking his head down so that his lips were hovering against Albus’ ear, breath hot, “You’re missing out though. Public sex is GREAT. Quite thrilling, really.”
“I’m 17. Pretty much anything gets me going these days.” A smirk appeared on Albus’s face as the other got a hold of his hair. He leaned into the other’s touch before cocking a brow once more. “I could probably be persuaded.” Albus shoved his hands in his pockets. “Spencer.” He echoed, drawing it out as if it were the greatest thing he’d ever heard. Hey, two could play at that game.
“Best to feed into our desires. No point in really FIGHTING it.” Merely giving a gentle tug on the other’s hair, curious to see how he’d react. A smirk of his own preyed onto pink lips, giving a brow raise, “Yeah? I’m told I can be quite persuading...” Spencer practically purred, allowing his free hand to drop to Albus’ waist, gently drumming slender fingers upon his hip bone, “Mmm. I like the way you say my name. Though I’d like it much more if you were moaning it.”
“What’s put you in such a good mood?” He lit the cigarette himself, a smile still playing on his lips since he was grateful for the generosity. Landon angled his face away when exhaling, making sure the breeze didn’t carry the smoke back to either of them.
“FIREWHISKEY.” The lanky male purred with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, crinkling his nose as he placed a wet kiss upon Landon’s cheek, “What? You prefer it when I’m moody and cranky?” Spencer inquired with the raise of his brow before resting his head gently upon Landon’s shoulder.
OKAY finally here is my intro for my boy Spence. Sorry it took so long. I had to adapt him to fit into this group…
So he’s a Preacher’s Kid. Or was a Preacher’s Kid who grew up in a small town in Kansas. When he was 11 his father caught Spencer kissing another boy and practicing magic all hell broke loose.
His parents insisted that Spencer’s “gayness” needed to be reversed. So he started seeing a counselor who brainwashed him into believing that being gay was a choice and a sin of nature. Same as telling him that his witchcraft was the DEVIL’S work so Spence stopped messing around with that shit.
He had no idea about getting accepted in Ilvermony because his parents naturally hid this news from him.
For a few years he was miserable. He tried to be with girls but hated himself for not feeling the way they felt about him. And suppressing his magic was beginning to take a toll on the young boy. He beat himself up internally and externally, using his anger to crack his knuckles against mirrors and walls etc. And when he’d get really angry, he’d burst and the pent up magic would end with disaster..broken windows etc.
His magic just started to unravel out of control and it wasn’t until a very bad incident on an airplane where he almost ended up killing everyone where it got resolved. After his father had found out about his orientation and magic, he thought he could beat it out of him, not knowing what else to do. It started off pretty harmless. Spencer wanted soda but his dad only gave him water so spencer managed to change it to coke and this pissed his father off. Took him into the bathroom to smack some sense into him. Spence got angry so naturally his magic started to take control. Luckily one of the Professors from Hogwarts was on the plane.
Vouched for Spencer, took him under his wing and managed to get him into Hogwarts, despite him starting a few years later. Which was...an adjustment seeing as he was a fifteen year old first year.
After the airplane incident, his family wanted nothing to do with him and they disowned him, calling him the spawn of Satan and other dramatics. So now during Summer, he spends it at different foster homes.
He believes he’s a burden and is afraid to love anyone in any capacity. He’ll lose himself in drugs, alcohol and meaningless sex but the poor soul feels himself wilting away.
Believes that nobody wants him and has no family, no solid foundations.
He’s a sweet, passionate, loving and caring boy who has endured a lot. Once you break down his walls, he’ll be one of the best people you can know because when he’s carefree and letting loose, it’s a contagious sight.
Is a total fuck boy at this point. LOVES sex and will flirt with you even if you’re straight.
Basically always drunk at this point, it’s the only way he can not feel and thus the only way he can get through life.
Some wanted plots:
HOOK UPS. pls all of the hot hook ups.
ENEMIES…that hook up. Maybe they can’t stand each other but have hot sex?
Friends
Party buddies
Sibling like friends? that’d be so valuable to him tbh
“That we are.” He said with a laugh, looking up at the other. His grin turned to a smirk as the other closed the distance. “I’m beginning to see that.” Albus ran a hand through his hair, the smirk never leaving his face. “There was, yes. I take it there’s still a lot you’ve yet to learn. And now you know my name but yours still escapes me.”
“You too, huh? Good to know.” The taller mused, grey hues only breaking from his to fixate upon that same damn pesky curl that kept daring to escape from the rest, pursing his lips as he shakes his head, “Just not wanting to cooperate.” He mused, slender fingers more bold as he practically massages the stray strand back into place, fingers curling against Albus’ scalp, thumb caressing the other’s cheek, “You care to teach me? Hi.” Spencer breathed out softly, offering the other a grin, “I’m Spencer.” Practically whispered like a secret that was only between the two of them.
he is lust.
he is sex in the back seat of a car.
he is hickies on the beach.
he is groping in a movie theater.
he is ass grabbing in an empty aisle.
he is dirty whispers on the phone.
he is pressed thighs and lip biting.
he is moaned names.
he is trembling and goosebumps.
he is breathlessness after a touch.
he is frustration and dark eyes.
he is insanity and clawing nails.
he is the pleas of more.
he is the begs of not stopping.
he is the fantasies that have your hand between your thighs, wishing it was his mouth instead.
he is sex.
he is lust.
he is a drug.
one you’ll take with a scream of pleasure and a whimper for another.
the dangers of dating a boy who knows exactly what he’s doing. (via tonkinwrites)
Spencer’s brows raise, taking a step forward before ingesting another smoke as well, “Don’t put words in my mouth.” His tone almost bored as he plucks the cigarette from his own lips giving a WAVE of his hand, “Besides babe. I know how good you are on your knees.”
“It depends on the day but I suppose TODAY...yes I am.” Draping an arm loosely over Landon’s shoulders, “Don’t mention it.” Bestowing it upon himself to place the cigarette between the male’s lips.
“Hey I have many faults but dishonesty isn’t one of them. Life’s too short to not be forward. Besides, we’re a bunch of horny teenage boys.” Spencer mimics his brow raise with one of his own, taking a step closer so that there was barely any distance between them, “People who say that must have been disappointed with their past outcomes. I don’t disappoint.” Grin widening at the sight of the other’s wink, “Albus...” Spencer practically purrs, eyes never leaving from the other’s blue hues though his brows furrow slightly, “Wasn’t there a headmaster here named that? Saw it on a portrait somewhere.”
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