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#can't wait to deeply fall in love with him
concreteparasite · 8 hours
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⋆Happy Birthday Ray!!!⋆
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It's Ray's birthday today (04/30)
I am not able to do much this year b/c I'm pretty busy, but I wanted to take some time to do a little something. So I did a quick painting and a story blurb :3 hope everyone enjoys!
04/29 11:57 pm
"Shouldn't you be asleep?"
The blonde man gives me a questioning look. I look at the tired hero leaning on the kitchen counter. I caught him after he got back from work, fresh out of the shower, towel around his waist, exhaustion written all over his face. He forces it back to give me a small smile.
"Are you having trouble sleeping Star?"
Ray looks around the kitchen, then back at me.
"You seemed to be hard at work in here today."
My eyebrows knit "What? But I thought I cleaned everything up?"
Ray chuckles lightly. "You did, I just have an eye for detail."
11:58 pm
A smirk moves across my face. "Oh do you?"
"Well, yes I do. For one, What are you holding behind your back?"
"It looks to me that you are up to no good."
"Well your eyes must be going bad old man."
Ray's eye gives a little twitch of annoyance.
"'Old man'? You know, if anyone else called me that even accidentally they would apologize to me profusely..."
Ray leans over me studying me with his eyes, smirk across his face.
Ray's voice lowers.
"So what makes you so special huh?"
I lean into Ray.
"I think I can list a few things."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I'll take a demonstration then. I'm a visual learner you know."
11:59 pm
I break into a smile.
"How about later?"
Ray gives an amused look, leaning back into his original position.
"What? your schedule isn't open on a Monday at midnight?"
I glance at the clock. It was almost time.
"Well it's not just any Monday is it?"
Ray seems confused.
"Wh-?"
12:00 am
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAY!!!"
I nearly shout bringing forward the box behind my back.
Before Ray can even respond I bound forward planting a kiss on his cheek. He wraps his arms lightly around me on instinct, looking down at me his face utterly shocked.
I bring the box forward.
"You can probably already guess what this, 'eye for detail' and all~"
Ray's arms fall from my side as he takes the box in his hands.
He opens it to reveal a small cake, with admittedly less than beautiful craftsmanship.
"I thought, since cooking is your hobby, maybe you would like it if I made you a cake..."
"It kind of fell apart though... and didn't really turn out the way I wanted..." Ray looks back up at me, his eyebrows are knit as a sea of emotion runs behind his eyes.
"Maybe I should have just bought-"
Before I can finish the statement Ray places down the cake, taking my face into both of his hands and kissing me deeply.
His thanks and feelings that he was unable to vocalize he instead pushed through his lips into my own. His hands trembled just a bit against my skin.
Ray eventually pulls back and he looks into my face, giving a lovely bright smile, free from any of the exhaustions from earlier in the night. He whispers to me as he plants small kisses everywhere along my face.
"I can't believe you forgot your own-"
"Have I told you that I love you?"
"Yes, many times."
"I love you."
"Yes, I know."
"I don't think there is anything in this universe that can truly convey how much you mean to me."
I smile "I know Ray. You don't have to say it."
"I just don't know what to do to express it."
"You don't have to do anything Ray."
"But that doesn't feel like enough, nothing will ever feel like enough."
"I love you so much."
Ray nuzzles his face into the crevasse of my neck.
"Ugh, I'm going crazy... You're making me go crazy. This is all your fault." I laugh at Ray's out of character antics.
"Well wait to say all that until after you try the cake."
Ray chuckles against my neck giving it a short kiss before pulling away from me.
Ray grabs two forks.
"So... should I put poison control on speed dial first?"
I lightly hit Ray on the arm.
"I hope it takes you out."
"Oh no Star, don't say that, you aren't cut out for a life of villainy."
Ray winks at me.
He leans forward and down closer to my eye level, staring at me.
"What?"
"So are you going to hand feed me?"
"Okay."
Ray looks a little shocked.
"You didn't think I was going to say yes did you?"
"You just wanted to tease me didn't you."
"You evil old man."
Ray smirks, leaning down and closer. He opens his mouth.
I grab a piece of the cake, bringing it slowly to his mouth. Ray's finger's entwine my wrist, steading it as he leads the bite into his mouth. Frosting smears his lower lip as his lips enclose the fork and it pulls out.
Ray chews and swallows the cake. By the time I realize my wrist is still in his hand, he already has me pinned between the counter and his body. He kisses me deeply, licking the frosting off of my lip.
"You make a better cake than you think star."
"And it tastes even better on you."
His eyes darken.
"Now how about that demonstration?~"
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 19 hours
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I Belong to You
Warnings: fluff, a bit of language, barely suggestive
I belong to you, you
Don't come my way
If you ain't here for love, don't you dare stay
A/N: Incredibly loosely based on a song, it just gave me the idea lol
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Before he met you, the first thing Jack did when he woke up was check his phone. He knew that after a couple hours of sleep there were text messages and emails waiting for his response, so rather than delay the inevitable, he got the day started.
Now, the first thing he does when he wakes up is look over at you. For just a moment, he feels like he's still dreaming, gently running his calloused fingers across the delicate skin of your thigh, watching your chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, your eyelashes fluttering as you sleep. You reach over for him, a reflex, your hand landing on his bare chest, and it takes everything in him to turn off his phone for the day and stay in bed with you.
He isn't sure how he got so lucky, to wake up next to you every morning, and honestly, he isn't interested in pushing his luck by trying to find out.
He'd stay here forever with you if he didn't have a career he deeply cared about, or a dog that needed to go potty first thing in the morning. ****
The sun is just starting to rise as he decides to finally start his day. If he’s lucky, he can get some work done before you wake up and the two of you can spend an uninterrupted day together. You barely stir as he carefully lifts himself off the bed, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He slips an old hoodie over his head and grabs his journal from the nightstand drawer. He gets one more look at you before he leaves the room, a smile forming on his face as he takes in how peaceful you look, the leather-bound book underneath his arm, and Lou-Lou eagerly running at his heels.
Your eyelids flutter open as the morning sun streaming through the window warms your face. You turn over expecting to have a sleeping puppy and boyfriend to your right, but to your surprise, the bed is empty. You take your time getting up, lingering against the warm sheets before finally getting up, grabbing one of Jack’s flannels from the closet to cover up your naked form, and heading out to the living room.
At first the house is peacefully quiet, a perk of having elderly neighbors and living in the penthouse, but its not long until you hear a voice, sweetly struggling to get through lyrics of a song under his breath.
“I’m working late, ‘cause I’m a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger"
You find Jack in his office, hovering over his desk as he repeats the only words of the song that managed to get stuck in his head after you forced him to listen to it so many times. You were able to sneak in without him noticing, and you stifle a laugh as you lean against the threshold, watching your boyfriend bop his head to no music. His gruff morning voice hits the high notes surprisingly well, and even you could admit you were impressed. Jack was a musical prowess, but there was a reason he went into rap music.
"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso"
You were so sure you were going to get a full performance of the song, but Lou-Lou broke your cover, barking when she saw you standing in the door, scrambling over to you so you could pick her up. Jack’s eyes went wide as he turned around and saw who was behind him, his face growing beet red as you received kisses from the puppy.
“How much of that did you hear?”, he asked, scratching at the back of his neck nervously.
“Baby, you’ve been singing the song all week.” You gently place Lou-Lou on the ground, and she sprints off to her toy. “I’m just surprised you know more than one lyric.”
Jack chuckles, giving you a weak smirk. You give him a soft smile, and he immediately forgets why he was even embarrassed in front of you in the first place. As soon as you’re close enough, he pulls you into his lap wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his head on your chest. You both sit in silence for a moment as Jack pulls you closer, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his curls.
“What are you working on?”, you ask as you look over a Jack’s workspace, his journal open, random notes jotted down on the pages. He quickly closes it just as you make out the first couple of words, shifting you around on his lap so you don’t have a good view of the notebook anymore.
I Belong To You
You were surprised by his actions, so quick to hide what he was working on, but you brush it off, thinking its something for work. He doesn’t let people into his writing process until he’s ready and you don’t want to push him to do something he’s uncomfortable with. Still, you can’t help but wonder what those words meant.
“I was thinking I’d grab us some breakfast and then we can just watch movies today?” You looked down at Jack’s crystal blue eyes, his smile making you weak in the knees.
“Sounds amazing. I’m gonna take a shower while you’re gone.” Jack gave you a quick kiss on the lips and a swift pat on the butt as you made your way out of the room. You got one more look at his journal before you headed to the bathroom.
What could he possibly be hiding? Was it something good or bad?
Was he working on a new song?
Why didn’t he want you to see it?
“Pancakes, right?” You were so lost in thought, the sound of Jack’s voice made you jump. You could feel your heart beating in your temples as you came back to reality.
“Yes, pancakes. With ham, no sausage please!” You called after him as he slipped his shoes on and headed out the door.
You shook your head, knocking away all of the thoughts that were telling you to snoop. You looked down at the sound of Lou-Lou’s wine, as if she could tell you were up to no good.
“Come on, Lou. Have more faith in me. I’m not gonna look at your daddy’s journal.” You swept her up in your arms and walked to the bedroom.
After a long hot shower, most of the time spent chastising yourself for even thinking about looking at the notebook, you checked your phone for a text from Jack. He still wasn’t back, the line at your favorite breakfast place, Highland Morning, was long, and even being a Louisville icon couldn’t get him the food any faster.
Hair wet and in a pair of comfy sweats, you started cleaning up around the place, making your way though each room so neither of you had to worry about it after your movie marathon. You queued up a couple of your favorite flicks in the theater room and gave Lou-Lou a treat before you came across it again.
Jack’s office was always meticulously clean. He always said his head was a messy jumble of lyrics and beats, he needed the space he worked in to be the opposite. There wasn’t even a reason for you to be in the office, but you felt drawn to it. You walked over to the desk, your eyes never leaving the 8x10 inch binding of papers.
You weren't sure what came over you.
It wasn't like you to snoop through Jack's things; there was a level of trust between the two of you that took months to build, mostly on your end, because Jack had trust issues from being in the industry, but as soon as you knew the coast was clear, you pounced on his journal.
You gently ran your fingers over the gold embossed lettering that read "JOURNAL" in a beautiful calligraphy. The book was leather bound, the pages slightly worn as if it had been loved and cherished more than used and abused. The voice in your head was loud and righteous, in a way that annoyed the shit out of you.
I really shouldn't do this. If he wanted me to know what was inside, he would show me.
Right?
Your finger slipped against the first pages as you opened the journal. You immediately recognized some of the lyrics on the page from his first songs. River Road was one of your favorite songs Jack had written, and to see the lyrics on the page, as Jack first wrote them brought tears to your eyes.
Still working
Still waking up looking for real purpose
Still trying to figure out what it's gon' take
Still trying to find connection with some real surface level types…
You got lost through hundreds of pages of lyrics and notes, it was as if you had a look into Jack’s mind, and it gave you a new appreciation for how hard he works and how much he puts into his music.
Minutes or hours could have passed, you weren’t sure, as you tucked your legs underneath you in Jack’s large leather desk chair and read every scribble you came across. You were so lost in the words, any mention of guilt for snooping having left you long ago, you didn’t even here Jack’s footsteps as he walked into the room.
“Mhm”, he cleared his throat loud enough to get your attention, slamming the cover of the book over your hand. “What are you doing?”, he asked in a deadpan tone. Jack’s face was a mixture of confusion and alarm, and while you were fully expecting him to be angry with you, surprisingly, there was not a ounce of anger in his voice.
You thought about giving him the puppy dog eyes you knew made him week, or maybe even letting a tear or two roll down your cheek, but in the end, you knew it was best to come clean.
“I-I was prying.” You let out a sigh, slumping down into the chair. Jack sat down on the couch across from you as you continued. “I was being nosy and was just wondering what you could possibly be writing down in here. I didn’t even know people still wrote in journals in this digital age.” You let out a guilty giggle, Jack scratching at his beard and giving you no relief from the weight on your chest.
“Are you mad?” You finally squeaked out against the silence in the room.
“Depends”, Jack stood up, reaching for the journal, but you pushed it away, much to his annoyance. “Depends on what?”
“What you saw in there.” He motioned for you to stand up, and you obliged, waiting for him to take a seat before you plopped down on his lap. Your hands naturally tangled with the curls at the nape of his neck as you watched him flip through the pages, landing on a couple of lyrics you immediately recognized, and others you knew never saw the light of day.
“I got this journal from my grandpa when I was in high school, and I just started writing down lyrics or ideas in here anytime something comes to me. Now I always keep it with me, even when I travel.” You could feel the breath of relief he let out, as if he’d been holding something in for such a long time.
“I’m sorry. I never should have touched your things without asking”, you apologized, Jack’s hand affectionately squeezing your thigh to let you know he understood and accepted your apology. “Its not that I didn’t want to share this part of me with you, its just I don’t think everything I write down is good, and I want you to think the best of me.”
You tipped Jack’s chin to look up at you with your finger. His gazed roamed your face, landing on your lips. “I always think the best of you, Jack, because you’re an amazing person. Not because of the music you create or the money you bring in. I could never think anything but the best of you, okay?” Jack nodded, craning his neck for a kiss until you met him the rest of the way. He was gentle, kissing your top lip, your mouth separating just enough to let out a breath before he latched on, deepening the kiss, taking your breath away.
You could feel your face heating up as you broke away, a lazy smile forming on Jack’s face as he leaned back in the chair. “If I knew I could get a kiss like that, I would have shown you this journal a long time ago. He flipped through a couple more pages before landing on a mostly blank page with only a title written at the top.
I Belong To You was written in big letters, signifying their importance.
“What’s this? Something you haven’t finished?” You asked, running a finger over the page. Jack let out a sharp breath as he raked his hand through his brunette mop.
“Something I haven’t started actually.” Jack gently pushed you up and walked over to the bookshelf that was framed by the large windows in the room. He walked back over with a couple of notebooks, handing one to you.
one to you.
You quickly flipped through to see the same title on almost all of the pages, some filled with lyrics, some filled with aggressively crossed out black boxes, and others blank. “What is this?”
“When we started dating, I had this idea for a song.” Jack took back the notebook and haphazardly tossed all that was in his hands on the desk. “I have been trying to write the song for the last two years, and I just can’t do it.”
Your heart swelled with love at Jack’s confession. The fact that he was even thinking about you when he was doing something he was so passionate about was enough for you, but to also be trying to write a song, you couldn’t have been more flattered.
“You know I don’t need a song, baby.” You grabbed his hand, massaging the knuckles as he tensed up against you. “Honestly, its okay.” You could tell he was defeated in a way that had bothered him for such a long time, and you wanted him to let that all go.
“I don’t know what the hang up is. Every time I go to write, its like I can’t fit everything that you mean to me into a couple of sentences, and believe me I’ve tried”, Jack nervously bit at his fingernails as he thought of all the nights he stayed up trying to put down a verse and being unable to get out a single word.
You stood, wrapped your arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him in tight so he was forced to focus on you.
“Listen to me, baby, I appreciate more than you’ll ever know that you want to write a song about me, and our relationship, our love together, but if it comes to you, it comes to you, and if it doesn’t, I’ll know we had something that was too amazing to put down on paper in two verses and a chorus, and honestly that’s okay with me.” You kissed again, this time, allowing your lips to linger together, as Jack held the back of your head, giving him full control of the kiss.
“I love you”, he mumbled out, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too, Jack.”
Moments passed, and you could tell he didn’t want to move from the spot you were both in.
“Jackman.”
“Hmm?”, he answered barely above a whisper, his eyes closed.
“We still have a movie marathon to get to.” You both chuckled as Jack straightened up, giving you one last kiss on the forehead before moving to the theater room. You picked up his journals and placed them in the top drawer of his desk, where they would be out of sight, out of mind for you in any future snooping endeavors.
Jack was already snuggled in on the couch, digging into his omelet when you settled down next to him.  “You know I had a guy in high school who wrote a song about me?” Jack gave you a disbelieving look, making you scoff, a mouth full of pancakes.
“Unless he’s grammy nominated, babe, I’m not worried”, Jack chuckled, and you could see the remark didn’t bother him a bit. You just liked to dig at his ego sometimes for fun.
“Oh, no, definitely not grammy nominated. His name was Tripp, and I don’t think his band ever left his parents garage.”
Jack let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Tripp with the Garage band? What a joke.” You had to admit, hearing it out loud did sound funny. “How did the song go?” Jack was elbowing your ego just as much, thoroughly enjoying it.
“Oh it was so long ago, I can’t remember much but I think it was something like…”
“I’m working late, ‘cause I’m a singer
Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger
The look on Jack’s face made you bellow with laughter, almost choking on your breakfast.
“I know you think that’s funny, babe, but its not.” He scowled at you before giving you a quick smile and turning back to the first of many movies you’d watch today.
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gojotenshi · 16 hours
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Satoru Gojo
tw: slightly explicit content, dacryphilia, v slight possessive behavior, some biting
Gojo is a bully, there's no mistaking it.
He likes to prod and push. To make sure that he is pressing all the right and wrong buttons. He likes the pout that falls into your lips, the flush of your cheeks, the frown.
He likes it when you snap back, when you allow him to be even meaner. He has the world on his shoulders, he has the need to be the best, to be perfect. And you're always there for him, his safe space.
And for many that would mean that he would be nicer, softer. Sweet and mellow on your arms. But this is Gojo that we're talking about, who wears his ego on his sleeves, who can't be anything but in control.
And oh, if he loves your pout, your sweet puckered lips that he kisses with too much force. With biting teeth that mark what you both know to be his. He loves your tears even more.
He especially loves it when they fall on fat trails down your face, when he is knuckles deep inside your tight cunt, when your pretty lips are parted all shiny and bitten and covered in spit. When they glisten as you move your head, when they fall down deeply flushed cheeks.
He likes even more to lick them off your face, salty and sweet from your own skin. More falling down to his waiting tongue with every breathing whimper of his name on your lips. With every thrust of his hips against yours.
Everything that is yours will always be the prettiest to him, but fuck, those big teary eyes will always be his favorite.
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iwritesickfic · 2 days
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Where I Need to Be - part 2
it's been a while since I put out part 1, but here's the conclusion! hope you enjoy :)
While the day has been miserable, Theo’s pretty sure he’s over the hump of whatever illness he has. He hasn’t thrown up since this morning, and his fever’s been under control (mostly) since he’s been able to hold down ibuprofen and water. He’s still got a pounding headache, and his stomach is puffy and tender, but all in all, it’s not as bad as it could be. And he knows how bad it could be.
He’s been in and out of sleep the last few hours, and he’s woken up most recently to a hushed phone conversation happening on the other side of the bedroom door. He’s only getting bits and pieces-
“Kelly, I told you…sick, that’s why…fever…Ok fine…One hour…Ok. Bye.”
Then the door opens, and Seamus is walking in. His smile is strained, but it’s there.
“Hey, love. How are we?” he asks, same gentle voice as always. It’s so different than the one he was using on the phone just a moment ago.
“Not bad,” he says, and for once he's telling the truth. Seamus sits down the edge of the bed, laying his hand on Theo’s forehead.
“You still feel pretty cool. Not cool, but not…not too hot,” he says, and runs his thumb back and forth over his sweat slick skin. They sit in silence for a while before Seamus speaks again. “So. I’m going to ask you something but I need you to be really, really honest. Ok?”
Theo nods. This will have to do with the phone call. Kelly is the artist whose album he’s working on. And who deeply, deeply dislikes Theo. Needless to say, she was not pleased to find out Seamus was missing a day of work to be with Theo, fever of 104 or not.
“There’s a dinner tonight with some people from the label, and Kelly- they want me to go.” There’s an expression on his face that Theo can only describe as shame. It makes sense he’d feel that way, but Theo doesn’t hold it against him. Work is work, they both know that, and some part of Theo was waiting for this conversation to come. And he can't even fully focus because his head is throbbing.
“Ok,” he says, voice shaky. “What did you tell them?”
“I told them I’d have to see about it but it’d only be there for an hour, tops. So be honest, if I was gone for two hours, do you think you’d be ok? Do you feel like it’s getting worse?”
“How big of a deal is it? Contract, or?” He already knows it’s a very big deal or Seamus wouldn’t be asking, but his answer will pretty much depend on it.
“That’s not…” He bites his lip. “It’s not contracted, but if they don’t like what they see…” He trails off before shaking his head. “It’s ok either way. If I stay or go. Just be honest.”
Honestly, he doesn’t want Seamus to leave. Not at all. That said, he doesn’t feel sick enough to justify making him stay. If sleeps for the next few hours, which is likely, there’d be no point in making Seamus stay home.
“Go. I’ll be fine.” A wave of relief seems to wash over Seamus, though the look of guilt doesn’t totally leave.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”
“Ok. Two hours. Tops.”
He’s asleep before Seamus even walks out the door. But when he wakes up, he realizes that this virus is far from done with him.
His whole body is shaking, sweat pouring off him, his clothes plastered to his skin. His stomach is in knots, and when he opens his mouth to take a gasping breath he immediately heaves up a mouthful of bile. He’s so hot. He’s never been so hot in his life. His chest is tight with it, his breath is shallow.
He knows he needs to get to the bathroom, but the minute he pushes himself up with trembling arms, the world spins, and he vomits again. God, his stomach. He moans and forces himself out of bed, and quickly finds he’s way too weak and dizzy to stand. He nearly faints before catching himself on the bedframe. Somehow, he finds his way to the bathroom and falls hard to his knees before leaning over the toilet and heaving again.
The cold of the tile almost hurts his fevered skin. It feels raw, just like his throat. His chin is sticky with drying vomit, and he peels off his shirt. When his hand goes to touch his cramping middle he can't hold back the whimper that escapes. It's so tender - the touch feels like a stab. He also can feel that he’s very, very bloated. The normally concave expanse of his abs is jutting out from his hips, puffy and aching. The waistband of his shorts presses uncomfortably into the swell, and combined with the pressure of his touch, it makes him retch.
In between heaves he can’t hold his head up, so he slumps against the toilet bowl, forehead on the cold porcelain rim.
Sweat drips from the tip of his nose on the floor below him. His breath is gasping in and out, and he's not sure whether he's shaking with fever or sheer exertion.
“Seamus!” He calls as loudly as his voice will let him, which isn’t very loud at all. It's cracked and thin. In that moment he remembers Seamus isn’t here. The thought wrenches a sob from him.
God, he’s so pathetic. A quivering mess, crying for his boyfriend, vomit on his chin. There are a few minutes of respite where he just sits there trying to catch his breath, chest jumping up and down, praying for relief from the fever and the throbbing in his skull. Praying it’s almost… What time is it? What time did Seamus leave?
Before he can think much harder on it, he’s vomiting again. There's only bile now, nothing else is left in his stomach. But once the bile is gone, it doesn’t stop. It’s wringing him out. He’s dry heaving until he’s too weak to. He’s still dripping sweat. It burns his eyes, stings his chapped lips.
He needs to get his phone. He needs to call Seamus. It has to have been two hours by now - it feels like he’s been in this bathroom for 5. But it can’t have been, because Seamus would be back.
The bedroom. His phone is in the bedroom.
He’s no stranger to being this sick, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
He stumbles back down the hall, having to stop and lean against the wall every few steps when his lightheadedness is too much to handle.
He gets the phone. His hands are shaking so badly he almost drops it. He taps Seamus's perfect, smiling photo. Immediately, he hears his voicemail message - "Hey, it's Seamus. I don't really check my voicemail so just shoot me a text! Thanks." There's a dial tone, and Theo hangs up. He calls again. The phone is sticking to the side of his face. Same thing.
This is a nightmare. It has to be. He looks at the time. It's after 10, Seamus should've been home by 8.
Theo is slumped on the floor, back against the wall, just trying to breathe evenly enough to avoid throwing up any more than he already has. The last bout of vomiting had quelled the nausea slightly, but it's back, despite him still not having anything in his stomach to purge. His mouth is dry and sour but the thought of even rinsing it out makes his stomach churn.
He opens his texts. It takes a long time to type a message. It's riddled with typos but his hands are shaking too badly to do any better. It's something along the lines of "where are you? i need you". Normally he wouldn't be so direct, but he's desperate.
Then the world is spinning, spinning, spinning. And then he’s asleep.
Every extra minute Seamus is sitting at this table he's nervous. But, he reminds himself for the thousandth time, Theo would've called if something was wrong. He's probably asleep. His phone has been silent all night, tucked in the pocket of his coat where it hangs from the back of his chair. He's glanced at it a few times, but nothing's come through.
Still, he promised Theo two hours. It's been four. And even if he leaves now, it'll be four and a half.
He's glad he came though. As much as it would've gone just fine without him, he has way more experience dealing with execs than Kelly does. Zeke even flew in from New York. The meeting started at a restaurant in the city and migrated to some random pub a few doors down after the execs were on their way.
At about 11 he goes to the bathroom and grabs his phone as an afterthought. There are absolutely no notifications, which seems strange.
Upon closer examination, he sees it's set to "do not disturb." He definitely did not set it to "do not disturb." He stops in the doorway of the bathroom as he sees the notifications flood in. 6 missed calls. Five unread texts. All from Theo. He has to stop himself from sprinting back to get his coat. He's immediately in panic mode.
Kelly, Zeke and a few other acquaintances from the label look up from their conversation.
"Whoa, what's up?" Zeke asks as Seamus throws on his coat with shaking hands.
"I just - It's an emergency," he manages to say. Zeke furrows his eyebrows but doesn't protest. Kelly huffs.
"Seamus, please. He can take care of himself," she says, and he freezes in place. Zeke looks very confused now.
"Theo?" Zeke interjects, but Seamus doesn't bother responding.
"I told him I'd be home at 8 and it's 11 and he's been trying to call me since 10. I don't know why my phone…" He trails off. He can barely think straight. Kelly crosses her arms and looks at Zeke, whose lips are pressed into a line. "What?"
"Well, we agreed it'd be best if there weren't any distractions," Kelly says. Seamus isn't someone who ever really gets angry, per se, but he's angry right now. Furious. But everyone is staring at him now, and it'll only look unprofessional if he loses his shit. He turns his gaze to Zeke, who looks extremely guilty.
"I didn't know something was wrong, I-" He starts and Seamus clenches his jaw. He starts to stammer out a reply before realizing that every minute he spends here is one minute he's wasting.
"I'll see you guys Monday," he says, trying to keep his voice as even as possible, ignoring the shouts of his name as he leaves.
He tries to call Theo. It rings, but there's no answer. He calls again. Still nothing. He's going about 20 over the speed limit, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. When he walks into the house he doesn't even bother taking off his coat or shoes.
"Theo?" He calls. No answer. He knows logically that Theo's not dead, but the panic in his chest does not seem to know that.
He stops in the doorway of the bedroom. Theo's on the floor, half curled up, shaking like a leaf. Seamus is frozen for a moment before he rushes to him.
Theo's skin is hot - so ungodly fucking hot - and so incredibly pale. Seamus shakes his shoulder lightly, and though Theo moans softly, he doesn't open his eyes.
"Teddy?" Seamus asks, running his hand up and down Theo's arm. Theo's eyelids flutter, and another small sound of pain escapes his chapped lips. Seamus taps his cheek gently. "Teddy, baby."
Theo's eyes finally open, only halfway but enough for Seamus to know he's conscious. When his gaze lands on Seamus's face he lets out a sobbing breath.
"Shh, you're ok," Seamus murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady. He lifts Theo so he's sitting upright, almost all his weight on Seamus. His forehead rests on Seamus's shoulder, his breathing shallow and labored through sobs. He smells like vomit and sweat, and his hands are immediately clinging to Seamus's shirt. "I’m gonna lift you up, alright?"
Theo doesn't reply, but Seamus wasn't necessarily asking for permission.
He maneuvers Theo's limp body so he can pick him up, and tries to ignore the spike of panic when all of his body is pressed against him. He's on fire, trembling, letting out little whimpers of pain at every movement. Theo doesn’t cry like this. Ever. And it’s making Seamus very nervous.
He's glad he works out enough to squat 250, because Theo is only a little over half that. He doesn't bother trying to get his shorts off before placing him in the bathtub, his long legs bent in the small space. Seamus turns on the water and rummages to find the thermometer.
Theo doesn't even make a sound as the cold water hits his skin, and doesn't even seem to notice when Seamus slips the thermometer under his tongue. As the water rises and he waits for the thermometer to do its job, the guilt really starts to set in.
He should've been here. Instead, he was out at a bar, drinking and laughing and assuming everything was fine. He should have noticed his phone was fucked up, he should've left when he said he would. He doesn't know how bad the fever is exactly, but he would wager a guess that it's really fucking bad. Odds are all the vomiting made him dehydrated, which made his fever worse, which made the nausea worse, and around and around until they got here.
He takes one of Theo's limp hands, and with the other, calls Zeke. It's only a ring or two before he picks up.
"What's up?" He asks, and Seamus suddenly feels like he might cry.
"I think I need to take him to A&E." His voice is shaking.
"The-" He cuts Zeke off before he can finish.
"The ER."
"Ok, ok. Uh…" Zeke trails off, clearly flustered. The background noise of the bar softens and a door closes. Seamus cuts in again.
"Do we have anyone here who could come give an IV?" In New York, Theo has people who'll come to wherever he is and give him the basics without having to go to the actual hospital, but Seamus has no idea what's at their disposal in Ireland. He kicks himself for not thinking to find out before now.
"Uh, I can check. I'll call around. Maybe. Is he-"
"I might be able to get it- get the fever down, but he's really dehydrated, so…" Seamus trails off. "You have people here, right?"
"I mean, yeah. In theory. It's just-"
"Just find out what's faster. I can drive him to A&- the ER, or someone can come here. Either way, just find out what's quicker, ok?"
"Ok. I'll call you back in a few, just hang tight." He doesn't hang up just yet. "And I'm sorry, I never would've let Kelly have your phone if I knew what was going on."
"Well she shouldn't have my phone anyway."
"Right."
"Yeah. Just call me back when you know, ok?"
"Ok, hang tight."
The line goes dead and Seamus checks his watch before taking the thermometer out of Theo's mouth. 40.5. He stares at the reading for longer than he needs to, feeling the panic in his chest spike.
Theo’s eyelids are fluttering now, and the hand Seamus is holding tightens around his.
“Oh my God…” Theo breathes out, his voice ragged and thin. “Fuck.”
“You’re ok, you’re ok,” Seamus says, and dips his hand in the cool water before laying it on Theo’s forehead. A towel or washcloth would work better, but he can’t make himself move from this spot.
“Shay, I…” he murmurs, before trailing off, “I had the worst nightmare.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he says back gently, wiping Theo’s chin. It’s taking so much effort to maintain this facade of calm, but he knows if he starts to freak out, it’ll only make things worse.
“I…In my dream…I kept calling you and calling you,” he mumbles, and Seamus is immediately sick to his stomach with guilt. “But you wouldn’t answer. And I was alone.”
It takes everything in him to speak around the lump in his throat.
"I'm here now," is all he manages to choke out. He can't bring himself to lie outright. He'll need to come clean eventually, but not now when Theo's still half delirious. "You've had your appendix out, right?"
Theo nods.
"Burst. In college.” Despite the cold water, Theo doesn't seem to be getting any cooler. He's not even shivering.
He's gathering Theo's hair into a little bun when Zeke calls him back.
“What did they say?” He asks, and Zeke sighs.
“They have people in Dublin, but they wouldn't be able to make it to you until tomorrow morning. I could call you a car but I think it'd just be faster for you to drive him in. If you feel like that's what he needs.”
It's a horrible drive. Then a horrible night.
When they drive home the next morning, Theo's still running a fever, but it's not as bad as it was. The insides of his arms and the backs of his hands are bruised - he was so dehydrated they had to jab him about ten times to find a vein for the IV.
He's able to walk inside from the car, which is a major improvement, but he collapses on the couch as soon as he walks in.
“I'm gonna make some tea, alright?” Seamus asks, carefully stroking some of his hair back from his face. Theo just nods, closing his eyes.
As he makes the tea, he knows he needs to tell him. Not today. No, he’ll wait, he thinks, and tries to convince himself it's for Theo’s benefit. He doesn't quite manage.
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hansoeii · 4 months
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The Doctor!
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cyncallenreese · 2 years
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.... ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ "ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ɴɪɢʜᴛ" ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱɪɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴀɴᴛ.
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nezuscribe · 7 months
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gojo fucks you so well because he's so terrified that any time might be his last. he holds you close to his chest, your sweaty bodies writhing against each other as you can't get any closer, and he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow.
his brows are furrowed, his lips as curled tightly as if to contain any of his moans.
"'toru, fuck, wait..." your nails are scratching deep red lines on his back, your brows furrowed in pleasure, but confused as to why he's like this. normally he's slow, teasing.
he doesn't answer, his eyes connected to where the two of you meet, your essence dripping down his balls. his hair is falling into his face, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face in it, sucking on the column of your skin, his tongue soothing over where his teeth would nip.
he wants to mark you. he wants you to carry him on your skin because a part of him deeply worries that some night might be the last time he could do this.
he angled his hips to reach into you deeper, your back arching as your tits pressed against his solid chest, his lips finding yours as he hungrily made out with you, his grip on your waist tightening.
"love you," he'd mutter against your swollen lips, his eyes finding yours as he picked up his pace, "love you s'fuckin much."
and he fucks you to show you how he means it.
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wriothesleybear · 6 months
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~warnings: pussyeating, squirting, overstimulation, fem! reader, pussydrunk!Wriothesley, MDNI!
Pussydrunk!Wriothesley loves when you sit on his face. It's his favorite position. You smothering his face with your weight turns him on more. He usually gets too into it that he overstimulates you. When you try getting up, his beefy, strong arms wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he continues to eat. You try moving but you just end up grinding on his face, his nose hitting your clit as he sucks on your hole. It causes you to squirt on his face, but he doesn't mind. That was his plan all along. Pussydrunk!Wriothesley loves when you squirt on his face. He groans into your pussy every time you do. He eagerly laps it up and continues his meal. You're usually blabbing nonsense at this time, mind breaking and tears running down your cheeks from the sweet pleasure he keeps giving you. Eventually, you cant keep your upper body up much longer and he notices. This is when he detaches his mouth from your pussy and you sigh in relief, glad to finally have a break. He helps you lay down on the bed and makes sure you're comfortable. Once he does, he opens your legs and he lays down between them, getting comfortable himself. He places his mouth back on your pussy, going back to feasting like he's a starving man enjoying his favorite meal. You are of course his favorite meal. Pussydrunk!Wriothesley loves when you close your thick, beautiful thighs around his head, almost like you're trying to crush his head, which he wouldn't mind. You comb your fingers through his hair, nails softly scratching his scalp causing him to groan into your pussy. The extra stimulation to your pussy causes you to pull his hair, making him groan more. Pussydrunk!Wriothesley loves when you can't decide whether to push his head away or pull him closer, looking for more stimulation, which he is more than happy to give. When you pull his head closer with your hands as you wrap your legs around his head, heels of your feet digging into his back, he takes this as a sign to up the pleasure. You cry out in pleasure as you once again fall over the edge, squirting on his face and tightening your beautiful thighs around his head. Your legs eventually grow weak, not being able to stay wrapped around his head anymore, making him whine in disappointment. Pussydrunk!Wriothesley loves to put his rough hands on the back of your thighs, pressing them against your chest, opening you wider for him. Your mind is too numb from the pleasure to care about the embarrassing position he put you in. He latches his mouth to your pussy, sucking and licking and using his tongue to explore your insides. You have no where to go as he uses his incredible strength to hold you down. Pussydrunk!Wriothesley loves when you cry and scream out as you once again squirt on his face. He shakes his head as he continues to suck and rub his nose against your clit. You squirt over and over as he doesn't stop. He finally stops and removes his mouth. He looks up at you, breathing deeply as your juices drip from his chin. Your thighs slightly shake as you try to steady your breathing. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and leaves a kiss on your forehead. He lays down, gently wraps his strong arms around you, and holds you close. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, praising you for doing so well as he rubs your back. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep. He admires your adorable, sleeping face for a while until he kisses the top of your head and closes his eyes. Pussydrunk!Wriothesley can't wait until you two can do this again later.
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bratphilia · 6 months
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overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
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after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
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getosbigballsack · 2 months
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Random thought!
But just imagine 35 years old CEO Gojo Satoru falling in love with the young woman whom he hired to be his surrogate.
Desperate at this point to fulfill his role as CEO and the heir of his family clan, he knew he had no other choice but to find someone who would be willing to give birth to his child.
He thought his ex-wife was the one. After all, she was pregnant when they were still together. When the due date came around and Satoru heard that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, he was over the moon until he saw the baby for himself.
He knew that that wasn't his baby. Blonde hair and green eyes? No one in his family had blonde hair and green eyes. So he asked for a DNA test. His ex-wife refused at first, but then she gave in, and when the test came back, the baby was 99.99%, not his child.
He was broken. He served her divorce papers the following day, and after everything he had done for her, this is how she chose to repay him. As if cheating wasn't enough, she had to get pregnant and gave birth to another man’s child.
So now here he is sitting in a cafe waiting for the surrogate.
...
You didn't have much of a choice. 26 years of age and still struggling to get your bachelor's degree just so that you could live a comfortable life and be financially stable.
But with the way things are right now, you knew that it was an impossible task to complete your final year. You could hardly manage to pay your school fee. You kept on getting rejection letters from student loans, and let's face it, you barely had time to study to even try to get a scholarship.
So now you're stuck looking for a quick and easy way to make money. You had little options, and prostitution just so happened to be one of them. And you almost turned to it, that's until you heard that a "rich" CEO was looking for a woman who was willing to give birth to his heir.
So now that's how you ended up in the situation to you're in currently. Nervously playing with your fingers as sat across from no other than Gojo Satoru.
"Your name is Y/N?"
"Yes, and you're Mr. Gojo Satoru."
He shook his head yes while taking a sip of his coffee. "I hope you don't mind meeting like this. I thought it would be better to meet in a more casual setting instead of my office. I don't want to intimidate you."
"That's fine, Mr. Gojo."
"Before we get started, are you sure you want to do this? I want you to be absolutely sure because once you sign the contract, there is no backing out of it."
You shook your head yes before responding, "it's something that I've thought about deeply, Mr. Gojo, and after reading through the contract a few times, I came to the conclusion that I would rather have a baby for a stranger who is willing pay to me more than what my school fee is worth than go and become a prostitute."
He was shocked by your words but said nothing of it. It wasn't his place to say anything or have any comment about your personal life.
"Well then, I guess we can go ahead and meet with our lawyers and sign the contract."
"Lawyers? I thought... I can't afford a lawyer right now," you said to him.
He chuckled, "I figured that that would be the case. No worries, I had already hired a lawyer for you."
"You did?" You asked. Just then, the door to the cafe burst opened, and in came a man and a woman dressed in suits.
"Ah, there they are. Right on time."
Gojo stood up and greeted the lawyers before he introduced you to them. The man, Mr. Nanami Kento is his lawyer, and the woman Tetsu Akari is your lawyer. First impression she has a kind and calm aura around her.
But let's move down the line.
You four all sat and discussed what was on the contract, and before you signed it, Gojo asked, "Is there anything that you need to clarify before signing the contract."
"Yes, uhm, it's about the procedure. Are we going to uhm... have... uhm intercourse to conceive the baby?"
"We could since it's the safe way to go about this, but no," he answered with a small smile on his face.
"Ok then, where do I sign."
This is the beginning of how Gojo Satoru fell in love with the woman he hired to be his surrogate.
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anantaru · 2 months
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synopsis. you're in a changing room trying on lingerie while rich boy aventurine admires you <3 dry humping n getting spoiled
cw. ⪩⪨ [ex]plicit, rich boy au, rich boy aventurine, reader wears lingerie, fingering & dry humping, fem! reader
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somewhere amongst the fancy to love and favor you, rich boy aventurine has a habit of spoiling you without hindrance— at bottom, in the glow of his eyes, he views life as nonsense without a substance much deeper than that of materialistic possessions, all the more reason as to why you were the most valuable to the blonde.
rich boy aventurine walks you through the countless stores that were flashing the most luxurious brands— expensive bags and purses, or what about an avant-garde necklace for it to fit the other accessories? you hum, teeth sinking into your glossed lip as aventurine urges you to make him purchase it all.
your mind falls down into an emotion you could never get tired of, "this one? yeah?" aventurine says with a nasty grin, almost like he needed you to tell him again, this time a little harder, a little more sensual. his body language was becoming more excited, agitated in a way where he was struggling to hold himself back.
rich boy aventurine watches the shop workers help you get all glammed up for him, so eye-catching and entrancing until his mouth waters at the luring sight once you let him step closer, his observant gaze noting how the lingerie digs and moves in keeping with your skin.
"fuck..." his voice was much the same as gravel, saturated within a mirage of intense cadences dipped in swelling lust as he admires you, shortly after reaching one palm towards his groin to adjust himself a little.
the fancy material of your lingerie hugs up on your body as it was crafted for you, your skin glowing as you're beautifully showing off the exclusive garments that must've been used to create it, fitting you like it's only made for you to wear, for you to enjoy and aventurine to look at, the crystal-glazed necklace on your neck too, leaving nothing concealed.
rich boy aventurine cannot take his eyes off you, seeing you like this formed a thrilling mist of coveting desire inside of the small changing room, blanketing both of your bodies inside a warm conceal.
and how deeply he yearned to get a taste of you, endlessly worship your skin with his strong arms and frame your figure with them tight. aventurine believes you're so graceful when you let him spoil you in such striking manner.
like a dangerous drug, he would describe the excitement he felt whenever he was visiting multiple lavish stores to buy you exorbitant garments, barely holding himself back at the thought of ripping them off your skin later.
the dressing room was too tiny to fit two people, but the both of you made it work somehow— always, with cold glass you're being pressed at, the attention on your plushy ass growing stronger as you feel his agitated erection grind into you. he practically salivates at how he can see the reflection of you two in the mirror when he presses and fucks you through his clothes, two calloused hands holding you in place while you're sneakily brushing your fleshy ass back into his groin.
"baby, oh baby... can't wait to rip that off you…" aventurine lets out a pathetic, little whine followed by a deep rumble emitting from his throat— slowly adding a leisurely tempo to his pace as he humps his clothed sex into your ass before his tongue lewdly licks across the back of your neck.
rich boy aventurine won't stop until he's felt you up everywhere, entirely, he glissades one hand from your breasts to your stomach until settling on your clothed pussy, the small twine of fabric snuggled up between your wet folds was sitting perfectly, which gave him an optimal way to rub your cunt in erratic circles, his adams apple bobbing before he whispers your his name at his fingers gathering your slick.
your head slants back at the new, satisfying impact of two rough digits mounting over your squelching pussy— a marvel of bliss spiking your blood the moment he'd alternate between stimulating your warm cunt, lapping his tongue up and down your neck while humping his thick, clothed member into your plush ass.
it's so crowded in that small changing room, you fear aventurine might rip your new lingerie apart if he's continuing with this— how much you hope he does, it's always a pleasure when he fucks the literal clothes off you, not to mention how pretty he looks with his shirt sticking to his chest, exposing his defined abs.
most deliciously, you were certain that there must be a couple shop workers noticing the deafening noises coming from your area— what else was there to do for them other than listening to what filthy scenes were happening? while only wishing it was them instead.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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distantdarlings · 6 months
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HOUSE PRIDE // t. nott
RATING: R / 3.8K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theo is pissed that you seem to be interested in other guys. The two of you are not officially dating so you find it ridiculous that you can't talk to whomever you want. You have feelings for Theo, though, and think it might be interesting to put his jealousy to the test.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Heavy sexual material, degradation, name-calling, jealousy, fem reader, language, dom!Theo--honestly, this is just depraved
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Pyramids - Frank Ocean
---
You pressed your face to your hands, breathing deeply. You couldn’t believe what you were fucking hearing. The pounding in your head refused to subside as he kept demanding an answer.
“Hello? Do you wanna explain why you were practically throwing yourself on Riddle today at lunch?” the brunette demanded, his eyes widened and wild. Your hands dropped and you made eye contact with the boy. You were in disbelief.
“Throwing myself at him? You dick, I tripped and fell on him! That’s just number one! Number two: you are not my fucking boyfriend,” you shouted, “I can throw myself on whoever I want, whenever I want!”
Theo locked his jaw and pursed his lips slightly. A tell of his that meant he was very angry. He didn’t usually speak much after he pushed past this point. More like, just crossed his arms and stared at you, eye bordering on twitching. You scoffed and held your hands out, waiting for a response from him. He said nothing.
“I don’t need you to tell me who to give attention to, Theo. You are not my boyfriend, I am not your girlfriend. I tripped and fell against Mattheo this morning and we both laughed it off, so why can’t you?”
“You just tripped and fell on him and his hands landed on your ass? Oh, whoops, just an accident!” he mocked you. 
“I don’t know if his hands were on my ass or not, he may have been trying to stabilize me as quickly as he could—but besides the point, who gives a fuck if he was touching my ass? It’s not like you’ve been too eager to do anything anytime soon!” you shout, blood rushing through your ears and cheeks. Shit. You did not mean to say that. His head shot back and his eyes widened slightly. You kept the anger imprinted on your face to attempt to hide the embarrassment you were feeling so strongly. Hopefully, he would think this was a super-confident confession written in a rage. Still, he said nothing.
“Oh, forget it! To hell with you, Theo!” you screamed, grabbing your robes and running out of his dorm room. He said nothing and made no move to stop you. Your feet carried you down the hallway and into your own room. 
None of your roommates were here. You figured they were all in different dorms, preparing for the common room party in a few hours. Once every couple of months, some of the Slytherins—usually seniors—will get together and prepare a “house” party. They’re always fun, high-energy, and filled to the brim with Slytherin pride. Merlin, you loved them. 
You had originally declined to go tonight. You had some leftover work that was due on Monday and you almost thought that Theo would invite you to Hogsmeade or something, but you should have known better than that. It seems all he’s concerned about is his reputation. 
You tugged through the buttons on your uniform top and ripped it off your shoulders. You pulled your skirt and socks off, holding the end of your bed for balance. There were a couple of nice outfits shoved in the trunk beneath the bedframe—you figured something in there would do. You reached up and let your hair down from its elastic, allowing it to fall to its natural length. The ends of the waved strands tickled your skin as you yanked the trunk into the open. Inside were a couple of different combinations, all saved up for special occasions. And if anyone asked you, making Theo Nott as jealous as you possibly could was a very special occasion. 
Your eyes fell on a specific top. A long sleeve, skin-tight sweetheart neckline that plunged a little deeper than it should, and a flared, darkened skirt. You reckoned it was simple and sexy. It practically bled Theo’s name all over your body, claiming you as his, though you pretended like you hated that. He never needed to know it, but you secretly loved how jealous he became when you had the smallest interactions with other people. You blow a curled hair out of your face. The fucker could have been running down the halls with a red tapestry taped to his back and you still wouldn’t call him a red flag. He was just what you wanted; what you’d wanted for years. Whether or not he’d ever actually act on your feelings for each other, you belonged to him and he belonged to you. 
You slipped the outfit on, mussed up your hair a bit, and applied a light layer of makeup. With the two tests, three project due dates, and eighteen assignments you’d had this week, you could use a bit of a touch-up. Hopefully, you didn’t sweat it off by the end of the night—though, that was sort of the goal.
You grabbed your wand and slipped it into your back pocket, patting it twice for good luck, and pushed through the dorm door. Down the hallway, you could hear the faint pounding of music. Your heart raced, keeping in time with the deep bass pushing past the walls. Was this a good idea? For a few moments, you stood in front of your door, pondering your options. Your plan for this evening could either end really well or really badly or you could avoid the possibilities completely and stay in like you originally planned. A deep sigh left you as your eyes slid closed. Who cared? This was your life and, you’d said it earlier, Theo was not your boyfriend and you intended on finishing what you’d started with Mattheo earlier this morning.
Deep cool colors swirled throughout the common room, echoing off of every shadow and highlight in the moulding. Everywhere you looked there was another Slytherin scarf or Quidditch team hat. One boy even wore a Slytherin flag around his neck like a cape. You laughed at the absurd outfit. These parties were most definitely one of the best things about being a Slytherin. Say what you will about the house, but they could throw a fucking party. 
You slid through swaying bodies, feeling the bass echo deep in your chest, rattling your ribcage. A couple of your friends were scattered throughout the crowd and slipped in gracefully with their personal friends. As you passed by them, they waved or flashed you a bright smile, all of which you returned. You would come back and talk but, for now, you were looking for someone specific. 
There was a table set up in front of the fireplace, decked out with green and black decorations, and overflowing with tall glasses of firewhisky. Your eyes skated along the length of the furniture until it reached a familiar body. You smirked and grabbed a drink before making your way over.
Enzo stood against the edge of the table, discussing something with one of the “bartenders.” When you stopped in front of him, his lips ceased and his eyes found your chest, then your eyes. His lips remained parted. Sweet, sweet Enzo. 
“Hey, En, I was wondering if you’d seen Mattheo, anywhere?” you smiled. He said nothing for a few seconds before stuttering back to life like an old car. 
“Uh, no, I haven’t seen him anywhere…uh, why do you need—um, I mean, did you need to talk to him?” he stumbled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets. The boy he’d been talking to—some fifth-year—snorted and rolled his eyes, turning away from the two of you to pour a couple more drinks. You stepped closer to Enzo, feeling his body heat on you. The shoes you were wearing granted you a couple more inches of height, which, consequently, put your hairline just above his. His eyes were angled slightly upward as he watched you. 
You waved him against you. He leaned in. The confidence burning through you tonight was more than you’d felt in a long time. You felt hurt and angry and frustrated. You could fix one of those quickly. You traced the skin above his ear, pushing a small tuft of copper hair back. A small shudder went through his body as you pressed your lips against his ear.
“I just wanted to dance and was looking for a boy who’d dance with me,” you said slowly. “I thought Mattheo would be the best but maybe you could…you know…”
You pulled away and smiled sweetly, placing a deep innocence into your eyes, watching as his lips parted and closed multiple times. You tilted your head to the right, allowing your eyes to switch from his eyes to his lips ever so briefly.
“I haven’t seen Mattheo, I’ll dance with you,” he said, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. You smiled brightly and grabbed one of the hands hanging limply by his side. You felt his warm skin beneath yours as you tugged him toward the center of the dancing mass. You were pretty sure you recognized the song playing and proceeded to work all of its beats throughout your body, encouraging Enzo to join you.
“Come on, En!” you laughed. “You’re supposed to dance with me.” He seemed to shock out of a momentary stupor. You felt good tonight and you hoped it was showing on your face and body. He still didn’t move and you reckoned he was going to take some physical guiding. 
As the song slowed slightly, you grabbed both of his hands and slid them around your hips. His breath shuddered through his lips as you began moving the two of you. You dropped your hands to his belt and guided his hips a bit, biting back a smile. He had all of the facilities for these particular…activities, he was just really nervous. Soon enough, though, his hips were moving on their own.
You turned around and placed your back against his chest. Without prompting, his hands dropped down to your hips, gripping them firmly. He moved you against him to every beat of the song. To be honest, he was placing a little bit of blush in your stomach. One of your arms raised to wrap loosely around his neck.
“That’s it, baby,” you cooed in his ear, cradling the base of his neck with your hand. One of his hands raised to hold your arm against him as the other stayed intact on your hip. A crooked smile found its way onto his lips as the both of you felt every rhythm the other was putting out. Fuck, maybe you’d picked the wrong boy all along. The way Enzo was grabbing your hips and ever so slowly grinding against your ass had your lips parting in a slow gasp.
“Like this?” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and gravelly. Merlin, help you.
If anything could have pulled you out of your current situation, it was the burning eyes you felt against you pouring into your skin like a brand. You gasped a bit and looked away from Enzo. Almost immediately, you found Theo’s eyes on the two of you. Enzo noticed your sudden change of attention and glanced up, finding the older’s eyes. Like he’d been branded himself, his hands faded away from you and, almost as quickly, so did he. Fucker. So much for sticking by you. 
You were used to it by now, though. Where you were involved, Theo was, too. Even though you weren’t actually together, everyone knew you were Theo’s. Anytime you were hanging out with another boy, he always found out. Even if it was just for a school assignment. 
His jaw was clenched and ticking. His eyes were lidded and ice-cold, angled right at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed, stomping off through the crowd. He couldn’t get whatever he wanted all the time. He needed to pick. He needed to officially claim you as his, take you on dates, buy you gifts, and all that nonsense or he needed to leave you the hell alone. He couldn’t have it both ways. 
You finally came upon the end of the crowd and the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. You hurried up the steps, not even caring if he was behind you or ignoring you or with a different girl. 
The hallway was completely empty, everybody down at the party or taking an early night. You rushed across the winding floors, trying your best to get to your room before Theo changed his mind. You just wanted to get out of your clothes and makeup and go to bed. Your dorm door appeared around the corner followed by an immense sense of relief.
Your hand closed around the doorknob and—a hand closed tightly around your arm and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as the perpetrator slammed you roughly into the wall just beside the door. It was Theo. He was livid, his breath coming out in hard slants, and his eyes so darkened they appeared black. You swallowed thickly, your breath rushing out of you just as his was. The two of you heard your hearts pounding in tandem.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his face inches from yours. Your eyes glanced down from his to his lips, watching the changes in his anger. He waited impatiently for an answer for too long before you realized it wasn’t meant to be a rhetorical question. 
He grabbed your arm once more and pulled you away from the wall. A swift flick of his wand and a fury like no other, and he was pulling you into your empty dorm room. It was almost completely dark by now.
“You want some attention, huh?” he said, casting a flame into the stove set in the middle of the room, his grip on your arm never weakening. He slammed his wand down on your bedside table and pushed you onto your bed. You fell roughly against the mattress, your hands holding you up into a sitting position. He stared down at you wildly, like an angry parent.
“Answer me,” he growled. Your eyes bore the same innocence you’d given to Enzo earlier and you knew that he’d only last a few minutes like this. Already, his facade was flickering and his gaze was softening. 
“I just—I don’t know, Teddy, I—”
“You just, you—you, you…fucking spit it out,” he mocked you. Body betraying your mind, heat pooled in your lower stomach as his face got closer and closer to yours and he got angrier and angrier. If it was anyone else, you’d have gotten embarrassed or angry but with Theo…it was a different feeling.
“All out of confidence, hmm? What happened, baby, you had plenty out there when you were grinding your ass all over Lorenzo Berkshire in front of everyone!”
“What’s wrong with Enzo?” you squeaked, your thumbs rolling over the other.
“He’s not me, you stupid girl,” he roared, his words perking your chest. You pressed your thighs together discreetly, never losing eye contact with him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you.
“Are you serious? Are you fucking turned on right now?” he asked. He had seen you. You didn’t say anything. His hand reached around and roughly gripped your hair, his fingers tugging deliciously on your scalp. He held your head back.
“Answer me, baby,” he whispered, his voice a thousand times different. “Does it turn you on when I shout at you? When you get me jealous and worked up?” The way he was looking down at you had you gulping against the strain being placed on your throat. You nodded.
“God, you’re so fucking pathetic,” he laughed darkly, the sinister tone in his voice echoing in your stomach. His hand let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw tightly. He held your face up so you were looking directly into his eyes.
“Maybe I need to remind you who you fucking belong to?” An eyebrow quirked. You nodded once more, anticipation hitting you like a train. He smirked, releasing your jaw by pushing you back roughly. Your back came into contact with the bed, the material nearly knocking the breath out of you. 
He crawled over you slowly, letting his lips ghost over your exposed cleavage, neck, chin, lips. He paused and allowed his breath to pour into your mouth. He tasted like alcohol, the scent of it burning your lips. He pushed his tongue out and gently traced it over your bottom lip. Your lips parted in a gasp at the contact. Just as soon as your mouth had opened, his had covered it, suffocating all breath. You moaned into him, feeling the way his body held you tightly against the mattress. 
You raised your hand to place your fingers beneath his shirt, but one of his hands reached down and grabbed yours with a speed your intoxicated brain wasn’t capable of comprehending right now. He raised them above your head and held them with a grip like a vice, his fingers violent and unyielding. You’d definitely have bruises in the morning. 
You bucked your hips against him, trying to illicit some contact between your core and his. He grunted at the touch before pulling back and roughly turning you over, pressing your chest into the mattress. 
“Don’t fucking do that,” he growled into your ear, still holding your hands tightly above you. “Do as I fucking say. I’m going to pull this skirt up and I’m going to fuck you and you’re not going to say a word but my name. Do you understand me?” You nodded frantically, impatiently waiting for some contact. 
“Keep your hands there,” he instructed as he slowly let them go. You curled your fingers around the edge of the bed to keep them locked in place. You didn’t dare disobey him. 
Behind you, you could hear the clink of his belt buckle as he pulled it from his jeans and dropped it to the floor. The anticipation was killing you, your thighs pressing tightly together for a chance at some friction. The heat between them was beginning to become too much. 
He pressed bruising kisses along the side of your neck, trailing them down your shoulder. His teeth cut along the flesh, ripping blacks and blues into the sensitive skin. You whimpered at the feeling, knowing good and well he just wanted everyone to see whose you were.
His fingers ghosted along the outsides of your thighs, tracing the chills that appeared in their wake. You shuddered against the sheets, waiting to feel everything he was about to do. You couldn’t see any of his movements and, for whatever reason, that amplified the feeling by a million. 
There was a moment of nothing except for the sound of rustling clothing. No part of him touched you and you found yourself becoming more and more desperate by the moment. You reckoned he was removing unnecessary items of his outfit but if he didn’t do something soon, you were going to start pitching a fit. 
Then his thumb pressed against your thin undergarments, right where you needed him the very most. An awfully audible moan left your lips and your spine arched against his touch. Merlin help anyone who walked by this dorm or, worse, tried to come in.
“Please, baby,” you sighed, your fingers clenching tightly against the mattress. His hand roughly grabbed your hair once more, tugging your head back.
“My name only, you dumb slut,” he insulted before pushing your head back into the sheets. One hand held your head to the bed as the other lined his hips up with yours. 
No matter how many times the two of you did this, you’d never get used to it. He was just so much better than any of the other boys in school. And there were a lot of them too. None of them felt like Theo and he knew it, too. He knew that you would always come back to him. He was impossible to leave. His touch and rough, degrading words were addictive and you couldn’t stay away from him. Your friends had told you over and over again that you needed to drop him and completely move on but you just couldn’t. He was the closest thing to a drug you had.
He tucked a finger beneath your undergarments and slid them over to the side. He placed a hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he ordered. You complied. He spread the material over his fingers slowly, coating each one thoroughly. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand disappear and reintroduce itself with your core. The tips of his soaked fingers skirted between the slit of your skin, lathering you in his touch. Just as he’d instructed, his name poured from your lips like a prayer. 
He pulled his hands away and quickly replaced them with a dark, warm heat that pressed into you agonizingly slowly, stretching every part of you out.
“Fuck, it’s been a while,” he groaned breathlessly, pushing into you until he bottomed out. His lips curve just above your ear, every moan and whisper touching your mind like a soft hand. As he began to move, they became louder and made less sense to either of you. His name curled around the room. You worshipped him. The reverence you placed on every syllable touched his chest and slid down to his core. He gasped into your ear. You sounded so fucking good.
It didn’t matter if he fucked every girl in Hogwarts, none of them could ever compare to you. 
“Theo, baby, you feel so good,” you screamed, the words vibrating your skin. 
“Yeah, baby?” he breathed. You moaned aloud as he pressed an especially sharp thrust against you. “I know, I know.”
“Please, please, please,” you babbled, your words pathetic and useless. His hips never ceased their brutal pace.
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “Are you my girl? Or are you Enzo’s?” He growled the last part, his fingers tangling painfully in your hair. You yelped at the feeling, tilting your head back to relieve some of the pain.
“No, no! I’m yours, Teddy, I’m all yours, please,” you begged. 
“That’s right, baby.” He released your hair. Every movement of his body brought you closer and closer to your end. His hands gripping your hips and pulling himself toward his own, his lips curling against your ear, his weight holding you perfectly in place.
Neither of you would last much longer and you both knew that. Every deep push of his hips drove you further into your pleasure as you began to close around him, gradually coaxing a release out of him. One of his hands dropped down to trace tight circles against you, ignoring the way your hips quaked to get away from the overstimulation. You were done for. 
Every sound pouring from his lips began to mingle with yours a bit closer as he pushed you through both of your final breaths. His hips got slower and his grip loosened on your waist. The loss of his support sent your weakened body falling back down to the mattress. A breathless chuckle came from him as he laid down beside you, his shimmering skin luminescent in the moonlight. You presented him with a tired smile. 
“Could Enzo fuck you like that?” he asked, a proud smirk imprinted on his lips.
“I don’t know—I’ll let you know when I find out.”
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djarincore · 4 months
Text
i picture you when you are all alone
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TAGS: smut, just a man thinkin' about his lovely girlfriend, unedited I'm tired, minors I'm begging you DNI, WC: 595
A/N: thank you to sleep token for fueling me. I think about this line and song too much <333
PART 2
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To say Simon thought about you often when he was away would be an understatement—he thought of you always. 
He thought of the sweet, sweet girl—his girl—who was waiting for him to come home. Who would take him in with open arms. The girl who loved him so deeply, despite how fucked up and flawed he was. 
And when he closed his eyes at night—in a tiny bunk, bruised and battered, thousands of miles away from home—he thought of you, bare and splayed out on your shared bed. So perfect and all his. 
You'd be needy, desperate. It's been too many nights alone, without his cock filling you properly. Your fingers would dance over the hem of your panties, thighs rubbing together as you debated on whether or not to touch yourself. It wouldn't be the same, of course. Nothing would satisfy you the way Simon could. 
You'd pull your lower lip between your teeth and glance to his side of the bed. It's cold and empty; his scent still lingers on the pillow. You'd take the pillow in your arms and inhale deeply, gripping the cool fabric, pretending it was his shirt. You'd pretend the soft cushion was hard muscle beneath your fingertips. 
One hand would slip into your panties. When your finger brushes against your clit, you whimper. It really was too long since you last felt him. You miss his calloused hands, roughly tracing your figure. 
If he were there, he'd start at your neck, smirking at the way you swallow when his thumb traces your throat. Then, he'd path his way down your breast, playing with your nipples until you were whining for something more. He'd move on soon, following the curves of your body, until finally ending on your cunt. 
Your fingers would work pathetically, trying to replicate his movements, but even they aren't enough. You would try slipping one finger into your dripping pussy, then two, pushing your fingers slowly and working towards a climax. 
Two of your fingers don't work, though. They're not as thick or long as his. They don't reach in you the same way. Your fingers can't press that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch. 
Your fingers grip his pillow in frustration and your legs spread wider. Another, you think. And a third finger forces its way into your tight cunt. Still, nowhere near what he could do for you. 
You'd stay like that—riding your own fingers, wishing it were him—until you met the crest of your pleasure. Your mouth would drop open as your breath picked up. Your cunt would pulse around your fingers, greedily trying to suck them back in. And you'd come with his name on your lips. 
He thought of you in bed, panting. The rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers, covered in your release, slip from your panties. 
He let out a breath. God, he wanted to taste you. He wished it was him in that bed with you—his fingers, his cock, all bringing you over the edge over and over again. 
When his burner phone began to ring in his pocket, a knowing smirk crossed his face. When he dug the phone out and answered, without having to look at the caller ID, it was you on the other end. 
“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, almost breathless. It was early where you were. 
“Yes, love?”
He could hear you shift and wet your lips. “I had a dream about you…”
“Really?” He chuckled, “Because I was just thinkin’ about you too.”
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justporo · 8 months
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okay but can we talk about this: when halsin tells tav he wants her (and Astarion) but you're in a relationship with Astarion so when you go talk to him about it he asks "But answer me one thing, this isn't because haven't.... you know... in a while" because oh boy my heart, just the thought of what must be going through his mind
See, this is also what I was thinking about and I would have loved there to be an option to just listen to Halsin's proposition (because he's a national treasure and just so damn pure) but then be like "listen, you honour me, so thank you, but no thank you. I'm with Astarion and I fear there's no more space in my heart." And then go to Astarion and talk about it with him and reassure him that there is only him for you. And because I would have liked that, I'm gonna write it out in a drabble: Astarion / GN!Tav (You)
"First in my heart!"
"You wouldn't believe the talk I just had with Halsin..." You say as you saunter over to Astarion, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. What Halsin had just proposed had majorly thrown you off your game - who would have thought the archdruid had it in himself to be so... forthcoming?
Astarion looks up from his book with raised eyebrows but catches your meaning in a heartbeat. He throws his head back and starts laughing. "No way, I was waiting for that to happen actually", he says and puts the book down, then crosses his arms over his chest as well, mimicking you.
Your brows furrow: "How did you..." Astarion lowers his head a little and stares at you. "You must've been blind to not notice the stares he's thrown you since he joined our jolly party. The man's basically a dog barking and salivating at the dinner table that is you - waiting to devour whatever he gets." You blush hard, too stuned to speak and your mouth just falls open - no way this had been actually a thing others had noticed before tonight. But also - can you just hear the slightest strain in Astarion's voice?
"And on top of that", Astarion scoffs "the guy can't stay quiet about 'enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts'. I bet he'd outlaw clothing if he could." The impression Astarion makes of Halsin is incredibly on point, he laughs, seemingly waving the druid's adavnces off but... you see that the laugh doesn't reach the vampire's eyes fully.
Still you are dumbfounded by the developments of the evening, your mouth basically only closing and opening as if you'd been turned into a fish.
"Astarion, I wouldn't...", you finally get out but get immediately interrupted again by the spawn who starts to ramble on about how he doesn't mind, how he'd actually be interested to know how it goes down - and also if Halsin would shapeshift in the bedroom...
And what had been your suspicion from the moment you had started to tell Astarion was now clear for you: no matter how much Astarion would actually be open for you to share the bed with someone else even though the two of you are in a commited relationship - it wouldn't actually be fine for him. Maybe not exactly out of jealousy, but because he is actually insecure albeit he'd never openly admit it. Because he actually does care very much about his relationship to you and is so deeply scared to do anything that will break the spell. So scared actually, he'd rather let you share the bed with someone else despite not being fine with it.
And that makes your heart break because no one should feel forced to do that, right? But luckily for the vampire, you're decision had already been made. More so, there hadn't been a decision to begin with.
"But let me ask one thing", Astarion finally says, his eyes wide now, face open and vulnerable "it's not because... you know... we haven't... in a while?" His eyes almost seem to widen more while desperately waiting for your answer. Even though he doesn't move you can see the fear and nervousness in his posture that is just too tense for his usual nonchalant manner.
Your heart breaks into a thousand pieces: "Oh, Astarion, I'm not... asking for your permission to get nasty with Halsin."
The vampire's face drops completely, his arms fall down limply at his side. You see how shock and hurt start clouding his face. He helplessly opens his mouth: "Oh..." His gaze lowers from yours, flitting around everywhere but your face
Your eyes widen - that is not at all what you meant. "No, no, no, Astarion" - you rush to him and grab him by the shoulders. "No, you didn't catch my meaning. What I'm saying is, I'm not asking permission because there is nothing to ask for. I would never consider being with someone else." His gaze snaps back to yours - his eyes not yet free of worry and hurt.
You lick your lips, desperatly trying to show him what you feel for him. To show him that the reason you hadn't noticed Halsin's interest in you was because you only had eyes for him. And to make sure he knows there will be no one else: "Astarion, you are first in my heart. No, more even, you are the only one in my heart like this - there's no space to share." And because you feel that your feelings might completely overwhelm you, you wrap your arms around the vampire, holding him tightly.
"Oh", Astarion makes again - but this time in a much different tone. He hugs you back, burying his face in your hair.
After a while you lean back and look into his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips that makes him sigh dreamily. "I'm sorry I doubted you", he whispers, his face still vulnerable. "I'm sorry I made you doubt me", you reply and give him a warm smile.
"Also", you say and grin at him "I think I already had a date with a bottle of wine, a book and a vampire for tonight." Astarion grins back at you and unwraps one of his arms to motion towards the pillows in front of his tent: "Let's not make the bottle wait any longer then."
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katskitoshi · 5 months
Text
A FAVOR FOR A FAVOR," with GENSHIN IMPACT.
synopsis: he helps you with something and it's only fair you pay him back, right? (liyue vers.) (mondstadt vers.)
characters: dom! zhongli, xiao, and baizhu x gn! sub! reader
includes: (nsfw themes) zhongli is kinda mean, big cock zhongli, kissing kink, worship kink, biting, drool kink, cream pie. xiao is whiny and desperate, fingering, whining, praise kink. baizhu is mean, cockwarming, riding, missonary on desk, implied thigh/leg humping.
zhongli, the vago mundo.
it's only expected that you'd owe zhongli something after how much time you've spent in liyue and with him. he's knowledgeable and there is not much he could want from a mortal such as yourself. well, that is until he starts falling back into his more primal urges, and decides its time for you to repay him.
-- "i'm being gentle, okay?" he truly was too kind, especially now as a gently jerked his hips in to sink his cock deeper in your hole. he was even kind enough to take you in his mortal form and stretch you out with his 8-inch human cock rather than his much larger adeptal one.
his tip, hot and heavy inside you, made you squirm and pant under your boyfriend's loving gaze. he kissed your check gently, slowly traveling down to your neck as began to leave love bites in his wake. "m-move, please, zhongli. need you, real bad- ah, fuck !"
your eyes could have popped out your skull when you suddenly felt yourself get stretched impossibly further. zhongli kissed you to distract you from him pushing even deeper inside. he pulsed inside you, leaking precum to lubreacte himself as he kept going. your fingers dig into his back your your legs wrap around his waist.
the kiss was hot, and drool connected your and zhongli's lips and he pulled away. he smiled. he could already see you turning into a devout little worshipper for him. you move your hands from his back to the back of his head to push him in for another kiss. you miss the first few times, but ones your lips meet, your tongue explore each other.
finally, he bottoms out and you moan so sweetly into his mouth. you pull away from his lips, arching your back as your eyes roll to the back of your head. you came almost immediately and he revels in the mess you make of yourself. he does not wait, gently beginning to pound your sweet hole. one of his hands slaps the side of your thigh and squeezes the fat of your ass.
"fuck, barabatos, thank you, thank you!"
barbatos?
you dare call another man's name -- another god's name while he fucks you? how foolish you are, mortal.
you don't even notice the dangerous glint in zhongli's eyes. he grabs the back underside of your knee and pushes your legs so knees reach your ears. your eyes meet his at last and you can tell he's changed a bit. "zh-zhongli?"
you can only respond in a loud, lewd squeal of his name when he pulls out to the tip and thrusts in so deeply you swear he could rearrange your guts. drool escapes your lips and you try to recollect yourself. lewd squelching noises echo through the room as he dips to your neck and leaves hash bites.
"think you can just call another man's-- another god's name when i'm the one fucking you? think again." he growls into your ear and never stops thrusting for a moment, you cum again and pull him closer, silently begging for a kiss.
he does not oblige, allowing you to just lay desperate for him. he removes one of his hands that holds your legs up and positions it on his shoulder. his now free hand is used to push your cheeks together, drool still falling from your lips.
"he, he is not your god anymore. i am. the only name you'll be calling from now on is morax, understand, dear?"
he doesn't bother giving you the chance to respond, just sticking two of his fingers in your mouth for your tongue to play with. you try to speak, but can't simply because zhongli's ungodly pace knocks all the wind out of you.
his cock pulses inside of you, and you can feel yourself coming closer to your next release too. he removes his fingers from your mouth and plays with you, forcing you closer to your climax. and you can only release silent moans as he finally, finally, delivers a final thrust,
his cock, hot, heavy, and leaky inside you bursts, painting your walls and golden white color. you feel full, resting a hand over where zhongli's cum rests, panting heavily at the feeling inside of you.
he doesn't pull out, but slowly starts thrusting again. "zhongli! m'too sensitive! can't take it!"
"dear, call me morax. and we aren't done yet. you've still gotta take all of me, in my adeptal form, so i can truly show you which god you belong too."
xiao, the vigilant yaksha.
xiao has never really wanted much in return for helping people, especially from mortals. what could you give him after all? but upon meeting after saving you one fateful night, all he wants is to make you his.
"f-fuck, y-you're so tight -- e-even around my fingers!" xiao leans into kiss you once more as his fingers continuously hit that soft, sensitive spot inside you. the kiss silences his moans, his body weight is on you with his thighs on either side of your hips. one hand between your legs, and the other cupping your face as your tongues intertwine.
you bucked your hips upwards to meet his hands. the hand that cups your face moves down to push your hips downwards, stopping you from meeting his eager fingers. his lips shush yours as he pulls away from the kiss. you reach your arms around his neck and pull his lips back to yours. "m-more. w-want you inside me, xiao."
"i know. i know, baby. j-just a little longer -- gotta feel you cum from my fingers first." he speeds up, and you can feel your orgasm coming closer. his face is flushed red and he looks just as flustered, if not more, than you. and all from watching you come undone just for him. you were a sight for sore eyes right now and always.
hands digging into his neck, cheeks heated, panting and whining from his touch because you wanted -- no, need him in these moments.
his fingers curls against you in a way you never thought you could feel and your climax arrives. you moan into his mouth as your thighs shake and eyes roll to the back of your head. he swore he could have came in his pants just then as he hears you whine out his name, hands clinging to his body for his support, for him.
his fingers don't stop as he slowly works you through your orgasm, gentle pumping in and out as he whispers praises that make you lose your head. "shh, baby. i know it's a lot, but not too loud. don't want the humans downstairs to hear you, yeah?" the slight movements makes you squirm from the overstimulation youre feeling and your whines get louder, but he doesn't kiss you to silence you.
"fuck, you're so pretty right now, you know that?" he pulls his fingers out, taking in the look of your twitching hole and panting body. "but you're always pretty," he kisses the tip of your nose, "always." pulling down the waistband of his pants and pulling out his throbbing, leaky cock, he rests it on your stomach. his flushed red tip leaks precum over your stomach.
"need you. p-please put it in, xiao." and he complies. his tip lines up with your hole as he slowly and steadily pushes it inwards, he wants to squeeze his eyes shut from the sheer tightness and wetness and pleasure just putting in the tip has given him, but his eyes focus on the way you smile. dazed out, drool running down your lips and you desperately whine out his name.
do you have any idea what you do to him, mortal?
he continues to push himself in, and he can feel your walls tighten around each vein and each inch he pushes in you. he leans in to kiss you once again, his hands cup your cheeks as you sloppily make out.
once he reaches the base, he slowly begins to pump in and out. a steady pace, one that leaves you dizzy as his cock never fails to reach the part of your body that makes you squirm. the kisses get sloppier, you hands hold onto him tighter, all as he keeps a steady pace. deep and slow.
skin slapping accompanies the wet kisses and whines that leave xiao's lips, your hands upwrap from his neck and push at his chest. you need air, and you pant, greedily taking in the air so you and your lover's lips can reunite once again. xiao's eyes squeeze shut as he whines into your mouth again.
he begins to speed up, muttering out a quick apology. xiao was fast and his thrust were apologetically brutal. though unforgiving as he fucked you deeper, faster, harder, -- still caring and sweet as his fingers moved to intertwine with yours. your legs are propped over his shoulders and he gets a better angle to pound you.
moans and whines are exchanged between you two as you kiss, you can feel your orgasm approaching once more and you squeeze his fingers tight. a silent sign that he reciprocates as he throbs inside you, leaking loads of precum inside you.
and you cum, your walls squeezing so tightly he's not even sure how he hasn't dumped his load inside you. he forces his lips from your own in a desperate attempt to warn you.
"f-fuck, baby, i'm gonna cum. l-let me cum inside you, okay? please? i-i need to claim you, make you mines, th-those adeptal sigils aren't enough. need to - fuck! - need to mark y-you as mines, k-kay, baby?"
baizhu, beyond mortality
baizhu is a man who always gives but alas, he still has wants. he still has needs. he helped you out so long ago, and now, its only fair that you repay the favor, correct?
"stay still dear. if you keep moving, there'll be a punishment in store for you." baizhu doesn't even bother to look at you, only focusing on his papers as he gives your thigh a gentle pinch as warning. with your head tucked into the crook of his neck and you arms gently clawing at his back, you felt as if you could cry at any moment.
how couldn't you considering you had your boyfriend's thick, pulsing cock so deep inside of you and it was still? your walls clamped around him, eagerly trying to pull him in deeper, but baizhu stayed still. was this not punishment to him too?
to be so close to you? to feel you? to be balls deep inside you but not move? it was unfair, and you wanted to just grind your hips downwards, back and forth, up and down -- anything to feel him move inside you. his hips did not thrust upwards except once, when he used it as a warning. threatening you to be good or he wouldn't let you feel him at all. that you could just go back to humping his legs like a pathetic dog.
you should be grateful to even be on his cock -- to feel it pulse inside you in all it's hard, thick, pulsating glory. it's certainly an upgrade from grinding pathetically against his thighs and legs. at the thought of your prior punishment, you whined and squeezed your thighs around his hips harder.
you couldn't take it. he was still, not bothering to even look at you or help you at all. he was so mean, so cruel in these moments that you don't even regret what you're going to do. you unwrap your legs from his waist and lift yourself up, slamming yourself down on his cock.
yes, you're legs were sore from not moving for a while, but the look of shock on baizhu's face is enough to push you to keep going. you both moan at the feeling of finally having movement. lube runs down to the base of his cock as you don't falter for a second -- finding a steady rhythm of lifting yourself of and dropping yourself down while grinding to reach that spot that has your vision turning white.
it continues for only a minute, and when baizhu's shock finally wears off -- you were in for a surprise. his hands grasp your waist firmly, and he lifts you up and positions you on his desk. your back on various papers and pens as he looks down at you as if you were scum -- but lovingly.
he finds his own pace, one much faster than what you were going at and way more harsh that you thought he could even do. it was hot, seeing him panting, seething, upset but somehow still tolerating your bratty actions.
you can't even lift your hands to try to hold onto his neck, they scramble and hold onto the shaking, creaking desk baizhu pounds you on. his cock pistols deep inside you, and wet squelching along with the sound of skin slapping fills the room.
biazhu's cock reaches you in ways you can't imagine, especially now as it pounds into you so deeply. you squeal out his name as a particularly deep thrust reaches the most sensitive spot inside you. your vision goes white, and you clamp down on him so hard that all he can do is grit his teeth as a groan escapes him. his cock pulses once, twice, and one final time before long ropes of his white cum paint your insides.
he slowly rides himself through his orgasm before pulling out. a second later, his cum begans to drip out. you feel so full, but so empty as it leaks from you still clenching hole. baizhu pants, feeling content but not yet satisfied.
"b-baizhu-" you aren't allowed to finish your sentence, not when a squeak interrupts you after baizhu slaps your hole still dripping with his cum.
"don't think we're done yet dear. i thought i was letting you go easy with the cock warming, but you're just so ungrateful. so i guess i'll just have to fuck you until you learn your lesson, okay?"
(mondstadt vers.)
i kind of answered these two requests so here to my two lovely anons!
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certifiedcodbabygirl · 4 months
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can i please get a little piece with soft! simon?? maybe some fluffy smut with a lot of praise while he makes love to reader. also would love a hint of breeding kink too if you’re comfortable with it 🩷
Absolutely :P
Simon Riley x Reader
CW: Smut, lots of praise, fiancés
PHOTO CREDIT TO @ave661
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"Such a beautiful fuckin girl"
His hips grind into yours slowly, soft kisses being laid onto your neck. Your arms thrown around his neck, soft pants leaving your lungs.
"Fuck, Si, need you to faster" You whimper into his shoulder, "Please"
"Lemme take my time, yeah? Fuck, you're so warm, love" He groans, biting your neck, "You want more, hm?"
"Yes, please Si, I need more" you beg, pants picking up.
He pulls out and pulls back a little bit, just enough to pull up your legs, bending you in half. He hooks your legs over his shoulder, angling your hips so he can hit deeper. He realigns with your cunt and slowly pushes in, causing a whine to leave your lips.
"Feels so full" You whimper, eyes screwing shut.
"Feel good, sweetheart? So full of me, hm?" He leans in and kisses you deeply, resuming his grinding into you, "God I can't wait to marry you"
He grabs your hands and pins them above your head, finger brushing your engagement ring. He kisses your cheekbone as your moans get higher and higher pitched.
"You ready to be Mrs. Riley? Ready to be my wife? I swear to god I'll be such a good husband for you, love" He says, head dipping down to your chest, "Sweet, beautiful girl"
"Wanna be your wife so bad" You cry, eyes tearing due to his words.
"Gonna be so fucking beautiful on our wedding day, gonna look like an angel" His thrusts speed up, accentuating each word he says.
"Fuck, Si, I'm gonna cum" You warn, tears coming from pure desperation.
"Me too love. Fuck, lemme cum inside, please. Lemme make you a mum" He begs, seeming just as desperate.
"Please, need you to cum in me" You whine, "Fuck- Si I'm gonna-"
A cry rips out of your throat as the coil snaps, causing you to cum so hard it's hard to breath. Your head goes fuzzy and tears freely fall down your flushed cheeks.
"Oh shit" He grunts as your release grips him so tight that the hot pleasure of his own shoots down his spine and spreads through his abs. His cum shoots into you in thick, hot ropes, leaking out at the seam of your pussy. Cock twitching inside you as both of your highs fade away, his head hiding in your neck. He lifts up to see your fucked out expression and softly smiles.
"You're so beautiful like this"
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