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plumso · 2 months ago

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sweet reverie (theo x reader)

pairing: theodore nott x reader warning: obsessiveness, possessiveness, bitting summary: y/n attempts to place boundaries between them, but it only reveals the extent of his love for her. masterlist song recommendation: fade into you by mazzy star I do not consent to the reposting of my work! reblogging, however, is fine <3

Y/N has only been in two relationships, the first lasting two years and the second lasting a month. Therefore, she believed she understood love and relationships. Despite how young she was or how long the relationship lasted, she thought she was now mature enough to know what she expected and needed from a partner.

But she was wrong.

“T-Theo, we shouldn’t do this here,” Y/N whispered.

Theo’s face was nestled in her neck, his lips pressed gently on her skin.

“Hm?” he replied, the vibrations causing a shiver down her back.

“People are staring!” she exclaimed.

The two were at the Great Hall for lunch, but Theo preferred to gnaw on her neck rather than his food. Unsurprisingly, many eyes were on the lovebirds.

Theo chuckled. He moved his head closer to her ear, rubbing his face in her hair, taking in the sweet apple scent of her shampoo. “I don’t care,” he whispered.

Y/N’s heart leaped as he proceeded to whisper sweet nothings. She couldn’t refuse him. Though anxious about everyone’s stares, she couldn’t help but give in.

Four months have passed since Y/N started dating Theo. In that short span, she has received more love and affection from him than her two exes combined. He has given her more than what she needs, more than she could ever ask for.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle as Theo continued to whisper, his warm breath hitting her ears.

Pleased by her response, Theo gently bit her ear.

Shocked, Y/N slightly drew back as her hand covered her ear. She looked at Theo with disbelief, and he responded with a mischievous smile.

“I’ve always thought you would look good with earrings,” he said, his long fingers drawing a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a slight bite mark on her ear lobe. “It looks nice on you.”

Y/N’s face flushed. “I-I!” she stammered. She was too flustered to think of a response.

Theo chuckled, finding her reaction cute. He sighed happily and placed his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you real earrings. Consider this as its placeholder.”

Y/N nodded shyly. Her body was still tense from the shock of the bite, but it soon dissipated. She quickly felt warm in his embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Theo smiled. He then handed her a spoon and pushed her plate closer to her. “Alright, you should eat now. Lunchtime is going to end soon.”

In a daze of warmth and comfort, Y/N nodded. “Thank you,” she hummed, digging her spoon into her fruit parfait.

As the two ate, some of their friends joined them at the table. Theo participated in their conversation, but Y/N remained in her daze, the feel of his teeth still lingering on her skin.

She ran her fingers on the bite marks. Theo would never dare to cause her actual pain, so the marks were shallow. But she could still feel the outlines of his teeth on her skin.

It didn’t hurt when he bit her. Rather, she felt a tingling sensation in her stomach, a constant feeling when she’s with him. Usually, it would disappear after a few minutes, but she couldn’t shake this one away.

***

“Hey, Y/N!”

Y/N looked up from her notes and saw her potions partner run up to her. Surrounding students in the library turned and gave them a quick glare. Y/N gave them an apologetic look for the loud disturbance.

“Our project is due soon. Did you want to meet up later and work on it?” He gave Y/N a warm smile, completely ignoring Theo who was sitting right next to her.

Y/N was nervous. Was he ignoring Theo on purpose? Or did he just not see him? Y/N looked at Theo, worried that he would be fuming.

But he wasn’t. He seemed unbothered, his attention focused on his book. It was only till he felt her stare did he look up. Theo gave her a warm smile, wordlessly assuring her he was fine.

Relieved, Y/N smiled back before facing her potions partner. “Uh, yeah. I have a free period after potions. Would that work?”

“Perfect! I have a free period, too. We should hang out more then!” He exclaimed, giving her a charming smile.

Y/N uncomfortably laughed. “Haha, yeah…”

Not noticing her discomfort, he smugly smiled at Theo, as if he had succeded something. “Okay, I’ll see you later then!”

As he walked away, Y/N anxiously turned to Theo. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“What are you sorry for?” he said with a small chuckle.

“He was kind of… rude to you,” she said, looking down at her fidgeting hands. She didn’t know why, but she felt guilty. It felt like she betrayed Theo by being too nice to her potions partner.

But Theo gave her a warm, knowing smile. “You did nothing wrong.” With his large hands, he gently patted her head. “You’re a nice person. That’s one of the things that I love about you.”

Y/N blushed, feeling shy by his gaze and touch. In times like this, Y/N is reminded that Theo truly sees her, that he understands her.

After a few minutes of flirting, the two turned back to their respective books. But as Y/N tried to refocus on her studies, she couldn’t shake off this uncertain feeling. Theo had perfectly assured her that he was unbothered by it, but she couldn’t fully believe it.

Curious, Y/N slightly tilted her head to take a quick peek at Theo. What she saw then made her eyes widen and her heart drop in shock.

Theo’s usual warm smile was gone. Instead, it was replaced with a dark glare, his eyes directed at her potions partner a few tables away. His eyebrows were furrowed, his hands in a tight ball, his lips in a tight frown. Some blood seeped from his lips, most likely from biting too hard on it.

Y/N knew that Theo was naturally cold to everyone but her, but he has never seen him angry before. His eyes were filled with bloodlust, his body tense as if he was ready to fight. Seeing this new side of him, Y/N felt a bit scared.

But when she realized that Theo was jealous, that he was mad for her, her face turned beet red. The same tingling sensation came back but in tenfolds. His brooding anger, his dark glare, his dangerous aura - she found it exhilarating.

Realizing that she’s been peeking for too long, Y/N focused her eyes back on her books. But she couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if he looked at her with that dark, dangerous look in his eyes.

***

After dinner with Theo, Y/N went to the bathroom with her friends to get ready for bed. She placed her skincare bag on one of the sinks before checking her ear closer in the mirror. A few days have passed since Theo bit her ear, and the mark faded later that day. But she continued check it and felt disappointed that his mark was already gone.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Her friend looked at her with a curious smile.

Y/N quickly backed away from the mirror, awkwardly laughing. “Nothing!” she exclaimed. She then started her skincare routine, hoping to seem normal.

“So…” her friend said as she walked over to Y/N. “How’s it going with Theo? Is he treating you well?”

Y/N brightly smiled. “Yes,” she replied shyly. “He treats me really well.”

“We’ve noticed!” One quipped, causing everyone to laugh. “He’s always around you.”

“Yeah, he’s super territorial of you,” another added. “It’s pretty funny.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

But Y/N was shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Oh… well, he’s always glaring down boys around you. Even around us, he’s sort of… protective of you.”

“I see…” Y/N trailed off, getting lost in deep thought. She knew that Theo was a bit… possessive of her, but she considered it normal between a couple. But if her friends noticed it and he’s warding the people around her… is it a bad thing?

Noticing her worried look, her friends attempted to lift her spirits. “W-we don’t think it’s a bad thing!”

“Y-yeah!” one friend added. “For some people, it can be seen as endearing!”

Y/N give a small smile, but was still conflicted. “But could it be a bad thing? If it goes… too far?” Y/N remembers what happened earlier today when Theo continued to glare at her potions partner till he left. His anger seemed like he would snap at any moment.

“Well… it can be toxic. Especially if he’s trying to push your friends away.”

“Remember my last ex?” one friend suddenly added. Y/N nodded in response. “Well, he was so jealous. Any time I would talk to a guy, he would yell at me and call me a cheater. It was suffocating.”

“Ooo, I had an ex like that, too!” another exclaimed. ��And he would control what I’m wearing. Every single time we went to Hogsmeade, he would make me change my clothes. It was so weird.”

Y/N nodded, taking in all their experiences. Theo hasn’t done anything remotely close to what her friends’ exes have done, but they have been dating for only a few months. Would he become like that later on?

As her friends continued to talk about their exes, Y/N continued to think about Theo and his possessiveness. She also thinks of how she feels when she notices it, that exhilarating, tingling feeling. Is it bad that she feels excited when he’s like that?

‘Maybe I should set some boundaries for us…’

***

“Y/N?” Theo said softly, his eyes slightly squinted with concern. “Did I do something wrong?”

The two were at Charms class, waiting for Professor Flitwick’s arrival. Theo had been anxious the whole day, concerned of Y/N’s distant behavior.

After that talk with her friends, Y/N spent the following days setting boundaries between her and Theo. She started distancing herself a little, keeping the PDA to a minimum. She even forced herself to be unresponsive whenever he would be extra flirty.

Theo noticed this and was noticeably disappointed. Though his demeanor remained the same around Y/N, he was impatient and moody to others.

Y/N felt awful. There were many times when she wanted to give in. Every time he hugged her, played with her hair, or give her that handsome smile, she wanted to jump on him and melt in his arms.

“No, of course not,” Y/N replied, giving him a warm smile. “I’ve… been stressed with homework recently.”

“Oh, I see.” Theo smiled in relief, his body becoming noticeably less tense. “I can always help you if you want.”

Theo placed his hand on hers, but Y/N drew her hand back. “O-oh! I have to ask Professor Flitwick something! I’ll be right back,” she rambled before rushing towards the professor.

During the entire class, Theo was silent. He didn’t whisper or joke around with Y/N like he usually does, causing Y/N to feel guilty.

But Y/N was resolved. She knew that Theo was the last man she’d ever be with, the man that she’d marry, the man her children would call “dad” or “papa.”

After class ended, she wanted to do something to uplift his mood, but he was already back to his normal, kind self by then.

***

Y/N’s plans were successful. After weeks of setting boundaries, they now flirted less in public, they weren’t cuddling as much as before, and her friends were around them more often.

She was glad that the two had normal boundaries now. She felt assured that their relationship would benefit from it, that they’d avoid the same fate as her friends did.

But despite all that, she felt lonely.

Even right now as they walked the halls together. They were still talking as usual, joking and complimenting each other. But Y/N desperately wanted to hold his hands or wrap herself around his buff arm. Yet, she continued to deny herself from that pleasure.

Then, as if he read her mind, Theo wrapped his arm around his waist. From this, a wave of electricity ran through her body. She missed his touch. It’s been a while since he’s held her like that. It was as if he was claiming her to the people around.

But Y/N remained firm in resolve and drew away from his grip. She bit her lips, conflicted and annoyed with her actions, but she continued to walk. However, Theo stopped in place, his eyes looking down. His usual smile had dropped to a small, sad frown.

At that moment, her resolve had broken. She had seen him happy, she had seen him lose patience in others, she had seen him angry, but she had never seen him sad. It was immediate that this was something she hated to see.

“Theo-”

Before Y/N could comfort him, one of her friends ran up to her. “Y/N! Y/N! Did you hear?”

Y/N turned around to face her friend who looked frantic and concerned. “What? What happened?”

“Brian, your potions partner!” she huffed, gasping for air. “He’s in the hospital wing! Apparently, he’s been unconscious for a few days!”

Y/N’s eyes widened and her body stiffened. She didn’t know why, but she was scared to learn more. “R-really…”

“Yeah! Someone said he got in some sort of… freak accident! No one knows what really happened. Madame Pomfrey thinks that maybe a spell he did rebound, but- Oh, Cho! Wait there! I have to tell you something!” Her friend ran off and left the lovebirds behind.

Y/N was afraid to look back. She was inexplicably afraid of Theo. ‘Could Theo have…’

“Y/N…” Theo pleaded softly as if he was still sad about her behavior earlier.

Y/N quickly turned around, ready to comfort him, but he was smiling. His face was stiff, his lips curled unsettlingly as if it was forced. Y/N was a bit thrown off; she’d never seen him so stiff.

Suddenly, Theo took her hand and dragged her away.

“W-wait,” she pleaded, attempting to draw her hand away, but his grip became tighter. He didn’t respond to her pleadings.

His eyes were dark and brooding. He seemed annoyed as if something finally snapped in him. When Y/N realized this, her skin was prickling with goosebumps as a shiver ran through her body. She completely forgot everything about her potions partner.

Theo then walked into an empty classroom, letting go of Y/N’s hand to cast a lock charm on the door.

Y/N took a few steps back, feeling a bit anxious about his sudden change in demeanor. “Theo?” she asked softly.

Theo remained silent, making her more anxious. He finally turned around to face her, but he wasn’t smiling. He was angry. For the first time ever, Theo was angry at her. Y/N shivered.

He slowly walked to her, getting closer and closer till she had to bend her neck and look up at him. “Sit,” he said, nodding at the table behind her.

“Theo-”

“Sit,” he said, his voice firm and lower than before.

Y/N nodded, slowly backing herself to the table. She couldn’t refute him.

As she was about to prep herself up, Theo placed his hands on her waist and lifted her, setting her on the table. He then positioned himself between her legs, his arms resting around her waist.

They were now at eye level, his dark gaze intensifying. Y/N’s breath shortened, feeling uneasy and excited by his intimidating presence. She was anxious about what would come next.

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

Y/N knew better than to defy, so she leaned in and kissed him. He remained stiff, letting himself feel her warm lips softly placed on his. He wanted more.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his thumb pressed on her lips.

Though slightly apprehensive, Y/N opened her mouth and he started kissing her deeply. His hands roamed all over her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her warm touch. It was passionate, a little rough, and needy.

Y/N felt a bit light-headed. “T-Theo,” she breathed in between their kisses. She brought up her hands to push him away, but he took hold of them and gripped them against the table. She knew she should try harder to push him away, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t even think properly.

“Tell me to stop,” he said as he moved down to her neck. He planted gentle kisses before sucking on the skin. This sent shivers down her spine, moans daring to come out. Despite worries about their boundaries or if anyone would walk in on them, she didn’t want him to stop, and he knew that.

He continued to kiss her everywhere - on her cheeks, lips, and neck. “Do you hate it?” he whispered lowly. When she didn’t answer, he bit her ear. “Do you hate it?” he repeated impatiently.

Y/N felt shy. She didn’t want to admit that she felt excited when he did stuff like that. But feeling weak in his stare, she replied meekly, “No.”

Theo chuckled, his eyes filled with excitement. H nestled back in her neck, biting into her skin. His bite was a bit harder than before, leaving a mark that will last for days. Y/N winced in the pain, but she was more overwhelmed with the twitching feeling in her stomach.

He then drew back, taking in the sight before him. Y/N’s face was flushed, her collar unbuttoned, her hair slightly ruffled. His teeth marks were all over her neck and ear. He looked immensely pleased.

“Look. It’s a matching set now,” he said with a small laugh, tracing his fingers on the marks.

When Theo was about to go in for more, Y/N placed her hand on his chest. “I’m sorry, Theo,” she whimpered, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Theo looked at her red, teary face, and his body slightly trembled in excitement. “You’re so cute,” he said, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. His other hand was gripping onto his pants as if he was holding himself back from doing more. More to his precious, tear-eyed girlfriend that sat innocently in front of him. Instead, he caressed her head gently, waiting for her sobs to die down.

After a few tears and a couple of sniffs, Y/N rubbed her eyes and focused them on Theo. His dark gaze had turned gentle.

“I-I’m sorry for being mean,” she sniffed. “I did it because I… I-” Y/N stammered, her mind racing to find the proper words to explain herself.

But Theo gave his same warm, knowing smile. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

Y/N’s heart sank as she felt more dissapointed. Of course, he already knew everything. After all, he’s the only one who truly understood her.

Y/N shook her head. “No… it’s not okay,” she said stubbornly. She then gripped onto his shirt and laid her head on his chest. “I shouldn’t have compared our relationship to others. I’m sorry.”

Theo chuckled before wrapping his arms around her. “Just don’t ever push me away again. And talk to me if you feel worried.”

Y/N nodded, her head still on his chest.

“Also…” he cupped his hands on her cheeks, bringing her face closer to his. His gaze was strong, a small glint of red in his eyes. “You’re mine. You can never leave me.”

Y/N shivered in excitement, electricity humming throughout her body. She felt her lips curl up in a smile. Pleased by her reaction, Theo’s eyes started to look dangerous again and filled with excitement.

At that moment, she finally accepted that Theo’s love for her was distorted. That it was probably different from what others consider as “healthy.” Some might even call it toxic. His deep, dark, dangerous feelings

But she didn’t care. She was intoxicated. His scent, his warm blue eyes, his rough, calloused hands touching gently on her skin - she couldn’t get enough of it.

Y/N nodded. “I’m yours.”

Theo stroked away a strand of hair behind her ears. He then placed his hand behind her head, bringing her into a deep kiss.

In an empty classroom where Theo placed a lock and silence charm, the two continued to get lost in each other’s touch, making up for all their lost time.

***

a/n: just to clarify, this is not a smut lol. i think i was having a bit too much fun with this one. also, it's so funny how they forgot about the potions partner lol. but i wanted to emphasize how much of a daze she's in when she's around him. anywho, hope you enjoyed it!

here is part one if you want to know how their relationship started <3

#theo x reader #theo #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #harry potter #hp #hp fanfic #hogwarts #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #slytherin #harry potter x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo zurzolo

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eyeheartboobiez · 2 months ago

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shower sex w/ jason

ask: I’ve been craving backshots with Jaybird(possibly in the shower)and reader being blackout cockdrunk, I don’t know if you’re comfortable with degradation, praise/degradation or slightly mean!Jason so I’ll leave that optional(if you’re not comfortable with that forget I ever said that). And ofc filthy dirty talk is always welcome 😉

a/n: @nyxx01 IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG I HOPE U LIKE IT

wc: 800-ish

tw: subspace themes

"Shut up and take it."

The steam radiating throughout the bathroom was nothing compared to what was actually happening in the shower. What was supposed to be a simple wash after a night out, abruptly turned into something much more pornographic.

For hours now, Jason had been plowing into your entrance, not thinking too let up in the slightest. You were surprised the water hadn’t gone cold considering the two of you had been at it for hours now.

Despite the hot water cascading down your skin, your nipples grazing the tile of the wall, or even the slight clutch of Jason’s hand around your throat, you felt completely stripped of all your senses.

Absolutely weak in the knees by now, your body had gone completely limp from being handled so brutally. The sobs of pleasure slipping from your lips were the only signs of life from you.

As the rhythm of Jason’s thrusts shook your entire body, you were sure you’d have fallen over by now had it not been for his iron grip around your torso. "Jace,” you huffed, “Jus’ gimme a sec-"

A piercing smack shrilled through the air, loud enough to be heard between the pouring water and your shameless moans. You didn’t even realize how much your rear stung until you noticed callused hands teasingly rub at the stricken area, “Nuh uh, you don't get to talk. Not right now."

The vigilante moved to grip you by your elbows, his hips still thrusting at an unforgiving pace. Tears stained your cheeks as you began to cry, the saltiness of your cries somehow finding a way to stand out against the tap water around you.

"Aww, you crying sweetheart? I thought you wanted to be treated like a whore t’night, hm? Thought this was what you wanted, baby.” His teases did nothing but add to your arousal, only hurting you on a surface level.

“I should just spread you open and pound you till tomorrow, huh?" He cooed. “I’d finally fuck the brat outta you. Maybe then you’ll start being good ‘fa me.”

You practically shuddered at the thought, desperate to be filled with more of Jason’s cum. His feigned sympathy made your eyes water even more.

However, that dream was quickly shut down. His sudden talkativeness was a telltale sign that he was close to reaching his peak.

Not even a minute later, you felt his hips shudder vigorously against your backside, the grip on you tightening as he was pushed over the edge. Ropes of cum pulsed from the girth between his legs, penetrating deep within your sensitive hole

“Mmmf, there we go.” Groans sputtered from his mouth, languid praises rumbling from chest, “That’s it hon, give it to me.”

Following him in sequence, you reached your final orgasm of the night. Your knees buckled and convulsions took over your body as you felt the climax rush through you.

Before you could hit the floor though, the Gothamite was quick to catch you in his arms. Gently, he sat you down on the floor of the tub, making sure to angle you away from the pouring water.

Feeling the ground beneath you, your senses were slowly coming back to you. While you weren’t necessarily dickmatized anymore, your thoughts were still a bit hazy.

The water rinsing you down, a fresh towel drying you off, butter massaging its way into your skin; everything happened in a blur. But, even while your mind was still trying to catch up with the world around you, you knew that you were in good hands.

“C'mon doll, help me out a little here.” Blinking into reality, you looked to see you were sat on the edge of your bed, dressed in one of your boyfriend’s tee shirts. Jason was standing between your legs, attempting to wrap your hair for the night, but your drowsy figure was no help whatsoever.

Straightening up, you moved to make the job easier for him. “There ya’ go,” he muttered, the low timbre of his voice only lulling you further to sleep, “Look at you bein’ so good for me now.”

Once your mane was taken care of, you hastily made your way under the sheets, the soft fabric covering you in a blanket of warmth. After making sure you were comfortable, the batboy made his way over to his side of the bed, settling himself in right beside you.

Although, just as you were about to clock out for the night, Jason squished your cheeks together, forcing your eyes to meet his, "Maybe next time think twice before flirting with the bartender, hm?"

You knew he was still irritated with you, but the goodnight kiss he left on your forehead told you he’d get over it. Sooner or later.

a/n: this reads like a wattpad fic (derogatory)

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flovverworks · 2 years ago

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A tall, bulky man in a suit would make anyone stand a bit straighter. Shinsuke knew that better than anyone, being said tree of a man that felt everyone's gaze on him at some point for some reason or another. Whether it's that brief, general glimpse of amazement, discomfort from standing too close, intimidation of his height combined with his booming bass of a voice, or great interesting in that combination - He's seen it and felt it all. So it's no surprise to him when he feels a stare burning his back as he talks to the staff members at this joint concert. Amateur idols and professional companies alike were invited to this summer event, so lots of new faces were both giving orders to him, and receiving their own requests from him and his group alike. Whispers of his stature were blocked out in favor of work, giving quick pep talks and watching the show unfold on the various staff monitors. This moment just happens to be as he's just finished talking to Uzuki, encouraging that ever glowing smile to have fun, before seeing her off onto one of the lifts for the stage. The soft smile on his own face remains for a moment, but it fades to his usual seriousness as he chats with volunteers to check on the girls in the next set, then to finally turning towards the presence that had their eyes glued to him.

Upon seeing the other person's badge - like a regular volunteer's badge, but with a pin attached to the lanyard to indicate their group, as well as their bolded title of "Manager" under their name - Shinsuke gives them a bow. "Thank you for all your hard work today." He says it as easy as breathing for him, before going upright again. "Was there anything you needed of me..." The producer trails off, briefly looking at their badge again to try and get their name right, but glare from the nearby lights blocking out their last name. And he wasn't just about to call them 'Akira-san' like they were good friends yet; he wouldn't want to be rude. So instead the producer clears his throat, grabbing at his water bottle nearby to take a sip, before speaking again. "...Or, perhaps, did you need help with anything? I can lend a hand since the other staff are busy right now."

(I remembered the idol thing and though ".......WAIT OF COURSE THEY SHOULD INTERACT; BECAUSE IDOLS!!!!!!!!!" so you get producer-san~ yes his name is almost the exact same as the vas; i know you didn't ask but i thought you should know~)

It's not that they're scared. Well, a bit intimidated maybe, but not scared. So when the other bows Akira does what they should and with a flustered face bows as well, finding their own first-time-doing-this-kind-of-thing-nervousness awfully annoying. "T-thank you for all your hard work..." they repeat, and can almost imagine Owen's taunting laugh at such a pitiful sight. But even if it's like that, and even if they're underqualified for the situation they're in, they're determined to do their best and see it through.

"Um, I'm Masaki Akira, I work for the company 21 Wizards..." it's an awkward start, but they stand tall, and even though they waver they remain where they are. "I apologize for interrupting you from your work but I wasn't confident I'd be able to find you later..." or have the time for that matter, as critical as the current moment was Akira still had made the wager that this was their only chance. And so, they take a deep breath. "Could I ask you for advice? I'm new and inexperienced so I'm bound to make mistakes, but I want to be able to help the idols within our agency achieve everything they want. I've heard about your work and what you've done and think you are amazing, and I...want to become someone like that as well..." the determination falters in the end and they lose the eye contact. "I-I'm sorry for asking for something so bold when we've never met before... It's fine if you disagree, but I...wanted to ask despite the limited time. .....Y-you'll get paid of course...!" a rushed addition. Probably at least, they hadn't run that by Snow and White as the owners yet, but...probably.

#shiningstages #JULY???????????????? i thought this was more recent wow #anyway i was thinking about this ask the other day like hm what should i do with it hm then i was hit in the face wiuth the reality of #producer au. it was right there. all right there. it just took til now for me to rly go WOW!!!!!!#ITS MASAKI BTW.......i...dont have it written anywhere cuz i was gonna check the kanji etc but......its masaki.....masaki akira........#SHAKES U #names it the most basic thing teehee(star emoji)#actually i was gonna have them ask other stuff at first. IN MY HEAD its heathcliff n shino attending that event. but then. i went. ? this #still heath n shino there tho LMFAO #i think IN THAT IDOL REVEAL APRIL FOOLS snow n white have ? a fashion brand??? or similiar. so they. get to be owners here too #adult snow white jumpscare #anyway i think this being like. early in akira knowing the wizards(!they r not wizards!) n theyre new and kinda eeEeeEEE #so def faltering...a bit more..than theyd do l8r......................i lost my train of thought #SHAKES U AGAIN #the amount of thoughts in my head r EXPLODING #im ending this here #the end

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thecherrygod · 2 years ago

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...sometimes i remember my ex with who i broke up with when i was 15 and how some things he said didnt sound very cis guy of him like there was some clear gnc to him which is partially why i liked him at the time i wont lie lmao one of the things was like "if i was a girl id like to be called this name" and he refused to be called his first name as much as he could, he was okay with his middle name... which when shortened its gender neutral (and its.. sort of the name i took for myself when first realizing im trans, almost.) and his name on fb wasnt even a name either it was a type of mythical being.

so i remembered some of this stuff and a bit more and im like "ok i am still mad at him for sure but what is he doing hows it going is he still gnc is there something else going on i need to know"

i dont exactly have answers i wont lie but i did find him. with a name that isnt any ive heard him consider when we knew each other.

its. the first two letters of my birth name. irl i go by the first letter of it.

#my posts #i. look.#LOOK. when i was a teen realizing im trans i was on this website and i went 'ok what are my options. alex. gender neutral sure'#so i didnt connect the dots until. now.#but also. him going by. that current name. hm.#i dont know if he IS going by it thats the issue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#like when on fb as teens he was like 'if i become a singer i want to be known as *that mythical being of sorts*'#idk if the current name situation is more like that #also hi changed his surname in it and i know its not his blood one so maybe its more of an online persona idk!!!!!!!!!!#i wish i wasnt mad at him and could ask him but this IS the bastard that told me he had an std not that long after we broke up and told me #i should get that checked up and when i told him i didnt have anything he said 'oh yeah actually my results were wrong i dont have-#-anything either' like im still fuming over that bc he could have. idk. fucking told me #man i really get myself in situations HASIUFHUGI #but this whole name thing like. come on #me going by the one that was basically his for a while #him unknowingly going in some way or another by the one thats mine but also mixed with the one that isnt #theres a lot going on here lmao #tumblr posts that maybe considering what im saying in the tags should go to a diary but instead im posting here! anyways

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angelplummie · 5 months ago

Note

here for revenge.

being lily's best friend - you grow up with her - you're in the donaldsons orbit for all your formative years. you develop a crush on art that turns into love as you grow older. your home life isn't so glamorous. you spend lots of weekends at the donaldsons. art has tucked you in. brought you snacks when you stayed up late for movie nights, making you and lily promise not to tell tashi. you were there when art and tashi got divored, held lilys hand and pretended not to be happy inside at the thought of getting closer to art.

lily gets into college - a big smart one because she has tashi's ambition and leaves you behind, you're still stuck at home because your dreams have always been smaller.

maybe its not appropriate, to still spend time with art. but he's lonely. tashi left, and now his daughter has and you're the only one left in his life that actually wants to be around him, that has always looked at him with stars in your eyes. its probably not healthy. there should be a boundary there. your lilies, not his.

but you like being around him and he likes having someone to take care of. you come over and he makes you eat something healthy and you needle him about spending all his time at home and how he should get out more, and he rolls his eyes, tells you he should be saying the same to you, you're young and beautiful and you should be dating around.

but how can you date around when art donaldson is your dream man? when you're happiest at his side, eating what he makes you. you want more though. you want to share his bed, warm it for him, you want to make him not so lonely, you want him to stop seeing you as a little girl and as the adult you've grown up to be - so you start wearing less and less around him. start acting more and more like a housewife.

art accepts it without even realizing. now you just need to find the right opportunity to pounce.

WHEW. this one is long so buckle up

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

you roll your eyes.

“mr donaldson, how come you never started dating again?”

he chopped the lemon with a deft clunk, eyes never leaving the knife.

“never felt the urge.”

“what does that mean?”

“what i just said. never felt the need to.”

“hm.”

you sat on the island, next to the chopping board. your legs swung haphazardly, and you watched art as he chopped.

why was he playing this game? he could’ve told you to leave, to stop coming back and bothering him, that this was inappropriate. and yet. he didn’t even tell you to get your sorry butt off the counter, or some such dad-ism. the low glow of the many warm lamps that adorned such a luxurious house illuminated art so softly, he looked as young as the day lily was born. he was as fit as back then, if not meatier. he didn’t have the pouch your dad had, but the years had given him a thickness. instead of wasting away like most lean men did, he struggled to the other side. he got broader. layer upon layer of muscle encased in a thin finishing of fat. he was skinnier when you were a kid, but he had no reason to be lean now. under his chin a tiny hammock of pudge rested as his head tilted down, kissed by light stubble. his blonde hair was streaked in silver, but that somehow made him younger looking. made him glow. he had grown it out, by your suggestion. he was everything in the world a man should be.

“what about you?”

“i hate boys. they’re all stupid.”

“you got that right. you’re too good for all of them, never settle.”

“maybe it’s just boys my own age. theyre so immature.”

arts wide chest heaves. his eyes flick to you then flick back down. you see it all, and cross one leg over the other.

“maybe.”

“what were you like when you were my age?”

he laughs at the memory.

“stupid, immature, evil. if i was anything to go by you should swear off men entirely until menopause.”

air left your chest cavity.

“i don’t wanna wait. i want a fully formed one.”

you watched the muscles in arts forearms flex as he squeezed the lemon onto salad. the main course was cooking, was singing loudly on the stove. art had gotten into cooking after the divorce. it took all his attention and put it in one place, something complex and delicate and time consuming. it helped to clear his head. it wasn’t helping right this second.

“i shouldn’t say that,” he said curtly,”boys your age aren’t so bad. give them a go and quit hanging out with an old man.”

“but i like you, old man.”

art was so harsh on himself. he really wasn’t that old. and you really weren’t that young.

he pressed his lips together and kept squeezing. his pink lips, that gave his face the everlasting youth it held. he shrugged his shoulders in that way he did when he was confronted with the truth of your arrangement. there was something going on. something very, very, very wrong. you were the same age as his daughter. 3 months younger. he was the worst man in the world. the worst person to ever breathe. what could he do though? tell you to go? tell you to leave his house and never come back? what would become of you then? without him, what pillar of paternity would you rely upon? what new low would you reach? what men would you come across, and what would you do to please them? while he gingerly entertained you, you dangled something in front of his face that others would not have the restraint or morality to resist. if you had to move to another target, your next victim might not care so deeply for your wellbeing. were you not altogether safer, sitting in his kitchen, eating his caesar salad, rather than inhaling second hand cigarettes from old wrinkled fucks who might murder you, or worse-

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

“you got a bunch of lemon pips in the salad.”

“oh.”

he set down the lemon.

“are you ok? you seem tense.”

“i’m good. are you cold? i can turn on the heating if you like.”

“no. it’s actually quite warm in here.”

he hears the zip of your hoodie and starts away from the island, under the pretence of getting a paper towel to deposit the lemon seeds on. your jumper clatters to the counter, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. low cut top. he knows that’s what you’re wearing. because that’s all it’s been for the past 2 months. your mini skirt flowers around you as you sit, but when you stand each swish and sway of the fabric is a death sentence. god forbid you take the stairs for some ungodly reason.

“hey, you know what you said about never having the urge?”

oh, fuck off, he thought. fuck off. leave him be. leave him alone. release him.

“yes.”

“you can’t really mean that can you?”

“sure i can.”

“i mean, you can. but i don’t think you do.”

you twirled a strand of hair in between your fingers. your stomach grumbled, loud enough that he could hear. you were so hungry you could die, but if you ate what art was frying your breath would smell like fish all night.

“let me check the salmon.”

“i’m not that hungry. you can’t mean that you never had the urge to. everyone has urges.”

“well sure. but after tashi, i needed a breather. a grace period, if you will. you can’t go from marriage with a woman like her right into dating.”

“but it’s been 3 years. you must be over it by now?”

he ignored the hope in your voice. ignore, ignore, ignore.

“i am over it. but. women scare me.”

he walked languidly over the salmon. it was ready.

“i don’t scare you, i’m a woman.”

a woman. he turned off the stove, and turned to fix you with a stare for the first time tonight. a woman. that was not the word he would use to describe you. your eyes were the size of saucers, and you bat your lashes languidly, like you knew how much you were making him suffer. you sat up pin straight, and twisted your spine to make eye contact with him. your body. he tried not to look. tried not to look in front of you and see the twisted grin come across your lips. but he was a weak man. the weakest of men, and his eyes dragged over where a fatherly view should never cross. your perky new tits, the press and curve of your ass against the counter, the plush of your thighs. it seemed you had grown up overnight, and didn’t know you were still a baby. you’re a baby. you knew what you were doing to him. you knew. he blushed involuntarily.

“you scare me most of all.”

his voice trembled. he hadn’t meant to say that. hadn’t meant to dignify you will any response at all. it had crossed his mind and then it crossed his lips.

your eyes lit up with extreme delight. he liked to make you happy, but his stomach churned with the thought of why.

“why?”

he turned back around, and plated up your salmon, adding potatos and asparagus from the same pan, drizzling it all in the residual oil.

“why art?”

“mr donaldson.”

a twinge of irritation tickles your stomach. what was he fighting this for? you’re all grown up now. you both knew what was going to happen. he was resisting fate, the inevitable.

all your life you had known he was the man you were meant to be with. from that first time he kissed your forehead as you dozed off on the couch, thinking you were asleep. when his strong arms would carry both you and his daughter, flinging you around, threatening to dunk you in their backyard pool. when he would catch your eye in the rear view mirror as he drove you around and winked. he was so nice. so nice and brave and kind and warm, and if you had to be with any man it should be him because you’ve loved him since you were 8, and now you’re old enough to claim it. you’re not just a dumb kid with a crush. you love him. you understand it being one sided back then. but it isn’t anymore, and you wouldn’t let him deny it. with gliding footsteps you approached him, drawing closer every second he didn’t turn around. a hand rests on his shoulder blade.

“just stop,” you breathed after a pause.

his spatula clattered to the pan with a metallic thunk. you pull your hand away like he burnt you. he gripped the counter with a sigh and hung his head.

“you stop. stop it now,” his voice was stern. you felt yourself shrink. art was never stern.

“i know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. this has gone on far too long and it stops right now.”

a mere few paces from his wide curved back, you blink. the urge to touch him is overwhelming. you want to press your hand to his back, feel him under your palm and tell him you know he wants this. you know he wants this just as bad as you do.

but you don’t, because he’s angry at you, and he’s never been angry at you before.

“i’ve let you come here and cooked you food and watched movies with you because you’re a good kid. because i knew you as a kid and i know your problems with your father and i wanted to be there for you when lily is away. but you have taken this too far. you’re my daughters best friend. i have cleaned up your vomit twice, i baked you a cake for your 13th birthday- it’s not right. i’ve tried to be understanding, i’ve tried to ignore it, but you never drop it. never. your lack of self respect is staggering. you have to drop it right now or, im sorry but you can’t come back here anymore.”

every muscle fibre was clenched. if the counter top wasn’t marble it would’ve crunch and fell away under his grip. he couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t know how much longer he could be good. didn’t know how much longer he could take resisting you.

maybe he was harsh. but it was the right thing to do. the only thing to do. he rested his elbow on the counter, and between his forefinger and his thumb held the bridge of his nose. he exhaled loudly. he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, hadn’t planned it. but now it was out. he had stared the elephant in the room dead in its eyes. he felt lighter, somewhat liberated.

until he turned around after a few too many seconds of silence to see you turned away from him, slightly hunched over. he stepped closer, and saw your hands covering your mouth. you body jolted, and you drew in quick, grasping breaths. you were crying. he said your name, and you didn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry mr donaldson.”

all the relief he felt was replaced by swift, acute, crushing guilt. your hair fell over your face, shielding you from him. he said your name once more. you sniffed.

“hey, hey hey hey.”

against his better judgement, and because of the aching of his heart, he took you gently by the shoulders, and turned you to face him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

tears spill from your eyes and you wipe them away with a heavy hand, refusing to meet his eyes. his neck craned down to your eye level, his thumbs began tracing circle in your shoulders. a thoughtless gesture but one that made you cry even harder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. im just so sorry.”

“hey, it’s ok. it’s alright.”

“it’s not alright. i’ve ruined everything. i’ve made it- so- weird. i just thought that you- you wanted me. i’m so stupid.”

your mascara runs, painting your face with your turmoil.

how could you be so dense? you had been making him uncomfortable. he didn’t want you. the only reason he even let you hang around was obligation. because of what you meant to lily. you didn’t mean anything to him. you were just some kid. did he even think you’re pretty? you bet he didn’t.

worse than that, you had disappointed him. him. he was supposed to be everything your dad wasn’t. and now he was disappointed. you had failed. you had ruined everything. what even were you? were you even human?

“don’t. you’re not stupid. don’t say that.”

“i’m sorry. i just- i wanted to make you happy. that’s all i ever wanted. i wanted you to be happy with me. you were so- so- so crushed after the divorce, i-i just-“

he guides you over to the bar stool, and you let him. you sit across from each other. his hand touches your cheek, the other holds you shoulder still. the touch of his hand quietens your babbling, your eyes round and wet and open.

“you do make me happy.”

your lips parted, plump with crying.

“i do?”

he cringes at the hope in your voice, at the feeling in his chest that it stirs. the feeling in his whole body at touching, after so many years, your soft skin. the last time he held your face you were 8, crying over a bumped knee. he had very different feelings now than he did then. sympathy and concern had ebbed, making way for much darker, much more corrosive emotions. he felt guilt and want broil in the chambers of his stomach, and the evilness inside him told him how easy to would be to get what he wanted. how close he was.

“yes. you’re my favourite buddy, we have a great time together,” he ruffled your shoulder like you pat a dog, speaking quick to placate you.

the hope in your eyes dwindled.

“so,” you sniffled, “you don’t feel anything for me? you don’t-don’t want me at all?”

with your convulsive sobbing your chest rose and fell, and with each jolt you spilled further out of your thread bare top. he closed his eyes, and swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. inhaling deeply, his fingers released your shoulder.

“it doesn’t matter what i want.”

“yes it does, it matters the most,” you answer immediately, tears gone from your eyes, now sliding down from your water line and down your cheek, “what do you want?”

what does art want? when was the last time he asked himself that question? years. at least. he drew away from you. you felt sick.

he turned on the stool, ducking his head and cradling his face in his hands

“i want…”

what the fuck was he saying? he couldn’t say this to you. he couldn’t. but he was.

“i… you’re a very gorgeous girl. you’re sweet. you’re smart. you’re funny. i like you very much.”

he said it like he was confessing to murder. elbow resting on his knee, his hand covered his eyes with splayed fingers. god, he was going to hell for this. even saying the words felt like the deepest sin imaginable, and he was sanitising his truth extensively. what he thought about at night, when you went home and his house became cold again, when he got into the shower and mechanically relieved himself into the drain, that was truly deplorable. when he touched himself, it was you he thought of. invariably. everything a man could possibly do to a girl, everything a girl could possibly do to a man, he had laid up in his bed and touched himself to with you in mind. ropes and ropes and ropes of cum in your honour, so gently splattered on shower walls and bedsheets he needed to wash anyway. sometimes he came on his torso, just to feel young and frivolous, like you were. and when he did his brain would turn back on, and he would feel so guilty that he would lay there to soak up his guilt, a punishment for himself from himself. so yes. he wanted you. he wanted you very, very badly. with every fibre of his being, he craved you. and with every fibre of his soul, he hated himself for it. but apparently he was still talking. what his morality urged him his mouth couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t obey.

“so don’t think you’re delusional. you had every reason to think i might reciprocate.”

you watched him, glossy eyes wide as ever. he peeked from beneath his fingers, immediately covering his eyes again when he saw you watch him. he shouldn’t have said that. he shouldn’t have. that was bad, it’s only giving you hope, and there is no hope. he can’t, he can’t. he want to so badly but he can’t. god, no he can’t. it would be so easy but easy isn’t right and how could he ever look his daughter in the eyes again if he did? how could he look at tashi?

“mr donaldson?”

“mm,” he replied miserably.

“kiss me.”

slowly, exhausted, he lifted up his head. mistake. now he was thinking about it as he looked at your face, puffy and damp and shining like a star.

why did he look so disgusted? what was so wrong with you? you couldn’t stop yourself from barreling ahead, feeling his premature rejection like a rock in your stomach.

“just once. then i’ll leave and i’ll never bother you and you won’t see me anymore and i’ll go to church and ill get a therapist, but just once.”

he looks so tired. so tired and so fucking good. his eyes smouldered with deep thought, the thought only a mature man can have. he was so mature. he was so much larger than you. he could hurt you if he wanted to. he could make you do anything but all he did was look at you so tired it made you squirm inside. as your sobs died in your throat, regret and embarrassment become indistinguishable from desire.

he blinked slowly, and opened his mouth. the white of his teeth glittered. his tongue pawed the inside of his cheek. he was thinking about it.

how could he be thinking about it? he was the worst person in the world. and yet. and yet. one kiss. he could control it with one kiss. one kiss wouldn’t hurt. one kiss. he had kissed your head before. your cheek. what was so different about this?

wordlessly, he moved off the stool. heart in your mouth you waited. a tremulous breath shuddered from your chest as he took one step. two steps. three steps. until he was stood above you. his face was unreadable. not cold. not warm. just looking, appraising from above his brown lower lashes, down his strong kissable nose.

“one kiss?”

his hand rose slowly, palm facing upwards. his finger tips grazed your jaw, your chin, tilting your head up. fireworks burst in your stomach, and you resisted the urge to moan.

“one. that’s all.”

one. that would be all. one kiss and he would put this silly fascination away for good. a kiss is deniable. a kiss is nothing.

he stoops down, can feel the nerves vibrating from your skin. his head tilts slightly, and your eyes lock as he descends to your level. his hand moves into your hair, a combing hold. and you kiss. no tongue. your lips connect, mush and expand over the others. his nose touched your cheek. your arms remained stiff by your side as they gripped the stool. you felt the pinkness of his lips, felt the edge of his cupids bow. and then he pulled away.

there. one kiss. he had done what he had to to get you to drop it. had fulfilled your criteria, and now you could move on. now he could move on.

but if that was true, why was he leaning in again? why did almost tasting your saliva, a substance he had thought about in great detail, make him hungrier for it? why was almost having it worse than never coming close? why did he pull gently on your hair, making your head tip back, opening you mouth so he could kiss the part of you he craved; the inside part? why was he hard if it was over?

his tongue flicked gently inside, asking permission. your mouths closed together, making the kiss noise you hate hearing but love making. they open quickly and in sequence. your hands rise up to gently hover over his chest, barely grazing his shirt. you didn’t want to touch him too hard in case he dissipated into a cloud of smoke, an illusion.

but he was very real, and under your timid girlish touch he was undone. a soft exhalation like a groan into your mouth, and his tongue protruded. it touched yours and you tasted the salt on it, shivering. his other hand fell back to your shoulder, gripping so hard it was like had no idea what he was doing. feeling your mouth against his was all that there was. there wasn’t right, there wasn’t wrong, there was only sensation.

all the want he had saved for solitary and depressing masturbation now burst through his veins, into his actions and he kissed you with all the passion in him. with everything he’s never said, with all the times he held back with you, with tashi. he kissed you like if he didn’t he would die, breathing and groaning and grunting involuntarily. he mashed his face to yours, crushing your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before recapturing your mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss. it felt like steam evaporated from where your met, so hot and wet.

you didn’t know what was your and what was art, where you finished and art began. you meshed like the broken pieces of a vase slotted against each other. his tongue became so wild it clipped the side of your mouth in its frantic exploration, and you sighed.

ultimately it was you who had to pull away. you pulled your hands into your own chest, gasping for breath. he didn’t move an inch. he gripped your shoulder still, cradled your face the same. he opened his eyes, chest rising and falling graciously.

he surveyed you, still too high from your touch to feel guilt, with lazy eyes. he was so fucked. your eyes sparkled like glitter. your lips shined pearly with his spit. his.

“art?”

“yes?”

“it’s not just one kiss is it?”

despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.

“no. i don’t think it is.”

#oh i had FUN with this one #not proofread #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #challengers smut #challengers x reader #poppy 🥰🥰#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x reader smut #older man younger woman #30s art donaldson #30s art donaldson x reader #challengers x reader smut

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gojipink · 8 months ago

Text

privilege

ஐ ft. diluc

ஐ summary. giving diluc a blowjob so good, he revokes your bj card :(

ஐ warnings. N*SFW, mdni, fem!reader, deep throating, fem. pet names. 1.4k words

ஐ notes. part of my bj mini series! check out more parts here ✧˖°.

“waitwaitwaitwait,” diluc catching your arm, stopping your trail of kisses down his stomach as you peer up at him through your eyelashes.

he swallows thickly, mind reeling from your ministrations, a little embarrassed at how he’s found himself to be on the receiving end of your love. undressed to only his boxer briefs, laying flat on his back as you slide down his body, worshiping every inch of skin in your path downwards.

“what’s wrong, ‘luc?” you ask as you plant an innocent kiss at the start of his v-line.

to be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing. diluc has been so busy, so stressed out recently that you wanted to take a night to focus on him. to let him receive even half as much love and pleasure that you receive from him on an almost nightly basis. you knew exactly what you were doing when you straddled him on the bed, giving his lips a searing kiss as you slowly pushed him back to lay his head down on the plush pillows. making him so distracted by your onslaught of hot, wet kisses down his jaw and neck that he wouldn't notice what you were trying to accomplish.

“my love,” he calls out breathlessly, “what are you doing all the way down there? come lay down, i should be the one taking care of you, don't you think, darling?”

you breath out a laugh as you nip at his hip bone making him draw in a sharp breath as his hardening dick flinches in its confines.

“i want to be down here, diluc. actually i'm not even exactly where i wanna be yet,” you tease.

“love-” he tries to argue before you interrupt him,

“please, ‘luc,” you pout up at him, “lemme take care of you this time. wanna make you feel good, i’ve missed the way you feel in my mouth,” you plead.

diluc has only let you suck him off a small handful of times throughout your entire relationship. it's not that he doesn't like it, quite the opposite actually. it’s just when it comes to sex, he gets off on getting you off. your pleasure is genuinely his pleasure, he’s almost sure he could cum at the sight of you coming undone alone. but when you look up at him almost pleadingly with your lips so so close to his straining cock, he lets his resolve melt a little and lets you take whatever you want from him.

he sighs, his big hand coming up to cup your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks. “if…if that’s what you really want then… but go slow, love. don't hurt yourself, okay?”

you inwardly melt at his concern as you flash him a smile, “thank you, ‘luc. i’ll be careful, i promise.”

he huffs out a sigh while his hands brush your hair out of your face, “yeah, that’s what you said last time before you choked on it.”

you giggle at his words before playfully nipping at his skin right above the waistband of his underwear. “and who came almost immediately feeling my throat tighten on his cock?” you tease.

“darli-mmph-” he tries to argue before you cut him off with a warm wet lick along the heavy shaft of his cock through the fabric of his underwear.

his breathing instantly becomes heavier as you press teasing opened mouth kisses to his twitching length while your fingers hook over the waistband to slowly drag the last article of clothing off his hips.

diluc raises himself on an elbow to watch you through hazy vision as he uses his other hand to help you pull the fabric off.

as you discard them onto the floor by the bed, diluc’s wraps a hand around his throbbing cock squeezing at the base a little, giving himself a couple of short pumps.

“my love, you don't have to do this,” he tries to convince you one last time as you make yourself comfortable between his thighs, “come lay down, hm? let me make you feel good, bet she’s just aching for it, isn't she, angel?”

you pout at him knowing that he’s trying to rile you up on purpose, hoping that if he gets you needy enough you’ll let him take over. you would be lying to yourself if you said his plan wasn’t effective, not with the way his filthy words strike straight to your cunt making your little hole clench around nothing.

“it’ll be my turn later, wanna taste you first,” you insist, your hands dragging up his thighs, nails lightly raking over the cords of thick muscle.

diluc’s jaw tightens when your smaller hands replace his on his swollen cock. using both of hands to twist around the entirety of his length, making him draw in a sharp inhale.

his piercing gaze follows your every movement as you open your mouth slightly, letting a pool of saliva fall past your lips and drop onto his flushed tip. diluc’s lip part in a silent moan as he watches the filthy sight, mind filling with fog as your hands drag across his length smearing your saliva over him.

his resolve to switch positions finally dying down as he gently tangles his fingers in your hair, subconsciously pushing down the slightest bit trying to encourage your soft lips to meet his drooling cock.

your lips finally meet his aching tip as you press a sweet kiss to his oozing slit before you take his length into the warmth of your mouth.

diluc hisses at the feeling of your tongue repeatedly circling around his tip then massaging at the pulsing thick vein on the underside of his cock.

“mmmh, love, s-slow, go slow,” he pants while his fingers tighten themselves in your hair, trying to grasp for control over the situation he’s found himself in. “doing so good, darling, mmph-! d-dont go any deeper, just-ngh keep it...keep it there.”

you hum while bobbing your head up and down, the vibrations going right to his tightening balls as he tilts his head up to the ceiling a guttural groan ripping through the room. all senses filled with him, you desperately want to disobey his orders and just want to feel him further. want to feel his tip poke at the back of your throat as you swallow around him, want to know what he sounds like when his hips involuntarily stutter, thrusting his dick down further.

knowing he’s slowly losing himself in bliss, you test the waters by slowly inching your mouth lower and lower until you feel his coarse red hair tickling your nose. you close your eyes and take a breath before surging forward practically devouring him whole.

the constricting feeling of your throat wrapping around his sensitive tip forces his hips to jerk in surprise, his mind short circuiting at the addicting sensation.

“ah-! l-love, oooh f-fuck! wait-!” he chokes out, his hands fisting tightly in your hair desperately trying to keep your head still, torn between wanting to push you down just a little bit further or pull you off him to scold you for deliberately ignoring his warnings to be careful.

thick, milky ropes of his cum hit the back of your tongue as he pulls his leaking tip away to keep you from bullying his twitchy cock further into your throat.

you swallow every spurt of cum, not letting a single drop leak through the corners of your lips. soothingly licking his shaft, softly bringing him down from his high, his chest harshly rising and falling, his eyebrows knitted together as he gazes at you with glossed over eyes.

you lick one last stripe up his length, making his dick twitch in overstimulation, before sitting on your knees in between his legs, hands massaging his flexed thighs.

he huffs out a breath as he gives you a pointed look, “alright, your privileges have been permanently revoked.”

your mouth falls open in shock, “what! you liked it, though!”

he shakes his head as he reaches to grab your elbows to drag you off of your knees. he rolls the both of you over, you now laying underneath him, face caged in by his strong arms.

he tenderly lays a soft kiss on your lips, cock stirring when he vaguely tastes himself on you. he pulls back just slightly to chastise you, “i distinctly remember telling you to be care-”

“and i distinctly remember you, once again, cumming as soon as your cock hit my thro-mmph!” you try to interrupt him only for him to cut you off by capturing your lips in a heavy, greedy kiss.

“what am i going to do with you,” he sighs into your mouth as you giggle and wrap your legs around his waist.

#alhaitham's next!#goji's.thots˚｡⋆୨୧˚#diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc smut

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moonstruckme · 8 months ago

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hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333

Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3

cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?”

“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes.

Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top.

“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words.

“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?”

You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.”

Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you.

“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?”

“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—”

“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?”

“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.”

“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?”

“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.”

There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster.

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?”

“I don’t—can you move the light away?”

More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye.

“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says.

Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.”

You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his.

“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?”

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.”

You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares?

Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face.

“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?”

“To call Evans.”

You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.

“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.”

“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.”

“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.”

“What if no one saw?”

“Then what do you think calling will do, love?”

“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?”

You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes.

“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face.

The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.”

Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.”

But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’.

He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?”

“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now.

“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.”

“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.”

Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.”

You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.”

James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?”

You nod, and he winces.

“Ouch, lovie.”

“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.”

You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.”

“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says.

Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?”

“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.”

You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek.

“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink.

“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly.

Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.”

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