#and if you'd like a different muse let me know
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slvttybvys · 1 year ago
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@speedsterandweedster liked for a Canon Muse
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"I... Had a really nice time tonight," Simon said to the other as they walked together after their... was it a date? They'd never covered if this was a date or just two friends hanging out. And given Simon's habit of falling for friends and reading into things he didn't want to assume but it had felt very... date like.
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bittcrsuite · 3 months ago
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closed starter for @tcmbcy ♡ plot: in source ! muse: josie hall. 24-26. cannabis infused bakery owner.
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"all i'm saying is that we have approximately..." she checked the time on her apple watch before sliding it off she set it on the nightstand beside the glaringly small only bed in their room. "six hours before we even need to consider our sleeping arrangements." with a small huff, josie stared at herself in the full length mirror one last time before resting her eyes on her ex. "until then, i'm going to go enjoy our vacation by the pool. are you coming?"
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crowdedmidnight · 4 months ago
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Starter call for: @jamesfactscalvin
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"You have to tell me why we're committing a felony before we do it. Not that that's going to stop us, but at least I'll have all the facts," Serena deadpanned, slipping on a pair of oversized sunglasses like she was preparing for a high-stakes heist—though, knowing her, it probably involved sneaking into a concert she didn't feel like paying for. She gave her partner-in-crime a pointed look, as if to say, I'm down for the chaos, but I need a solid backstory for when we inevitably go viral.
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tempportal · 1 year ago
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"Okay, just—just hang on a second," Five pushes himself to his feet, dusting at least a dozen Styrofoam packing peanuts off the knees of his jeans as he goes, and picks halfheartedly through the bleak carnage of his and Viktor's truly abysmal attempt to assemble a bookshelf with no directions. He quickly finds the elusive instructional pamphlet, and hauls it out of the wreckage with a firm tug, flipping it open and scanning through the rows on rows of tiny black text... only to let out a quiet yet incredibly vehement sigh of, "Motherfucker."
IKEA Furniture, he decides, with an entirely appropriate amount of murderous rage, is going to have to answer for their sins.
Nonetheless, no one has ever achieved their ambitions in life without a fair bit of elbow grease, so he resigns himself to his fate, and returns to his spot on the carpet beside Viktor, with the all-too-short and all-too-vague pamphlet still clutched in his fist. "All right, so, it turns out that the T-peg is supposed to go into the H-slot after all. Great news for us, because I'm pretty sure we physically couldn't pry the T-peg back out at this point." He picks the aforementioned T-peg / H-slot piece out of the pile, and sets it carefully to the side — the only success in a heap of otherwise pathetic efforts. "Did you find the fourth C-bracket yet, by the way? We're still one short."
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@0dd1t1es / liked
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someotherdog · 2 years ago
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@waywordhearts / vikram & your choice of muse! (f/nb, 28+) / based off of this post, bullet point three, but vikram was just a patron instead of an employee / made in beta.
okay, so maybe he kept up with her more than he'd like to admit. vikram may have periodically looked up her up on instagram or facebook, scrolled through her feed with a joint in the other hand, and frequently thought her fiancé looked like a tool. maybe, sometimes, vikram would ask old college friends what his ex was up to, if maybe she asked around about him. it could've been possible. maybe, if he was at a bar at around midnight on a random thursday, he would've recognized his ex's current partner with their hand on someone else's ass.
it had been an innocent thing to start out with. in no way did vikram intend on spying, or even running into the fiancé in question, at that bar on a random thursday night. once he did see them, however... at first it was a questioning look, all 'hey, isn't that...?' and 'shit, i think that's...', but it quickly devolved into creepy staring. the way the affair partners were rubbing against each other and kissing as if there was buried treasure in their throats, his friends began to give vikram weird looks when they noticed that his attention had been stolen from them.
'you really that hard up, man?' gideon asked. vikram rolled his eyes, then explained what exactly he was looking at. his friend just laughed. 'maybe you should take a pic and send it to her. maybe you'll have a shot at getting her back.'
vikram had grimaced, as if that thought hadn't already occurred to him. he knew, even if her fiancé was betraying her, she'd never want to hear from him again. not after he had betrayed her, all those years ago. he wanted to be able to blame on it being young and stupid, but the truth was that he was old and stupid now, too. he had cheated on her because he was easily distracted. because he was high at a party. because he had been horny. because, ultimately, vikram wasn't a good person. and that he was stupid.
old and stupid.
he had enough of the show. excusing himself from his friends, he slipped outside and dug his phone out of his pocket. bringing up his phone contacts, he scrolled until he found her name. vikram had hoped she didn't still have his number blocked, then pressed the call button:
"uhhh. oh. hi. maybe you don't remember me? it's me, vikram, from college. anyway, i was at mcswishey's on center street and i'm pretty sure i saw your fiancé making out with someone who was obviously not you. um, i took a photo. i could send it to you, if you wanted. so, i mean i don't know. i guess i just wanted you to know? so... i'm sorry."
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springbreezc · 2 years ago
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♡ — for @angclnumber​​ | continued from here
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panicked eyes scan her form, verifying what ruth was saying in her claims that she was physically unharmed. the emotional damage was a different story, and guilt clogged mick’s throat. his hands hovered over her shoulders as she cried, unsure of what to do with himself and if his touch would be welcomed. “it’s not stupid,” he vehemently disagreed, his voice arguably too harsh considering the fragility of the moment. “it was a scary situation, and you never should have been involved in it. this is on me, not you. i’m the one who should be saying that i am sorry.” the words come out in a rush, finally giving in the temptation to rest his hands on her shoulders so that he can rub them in what he hoped were comforting motions. he was used to that kind of scene: people pulling out their guns when a deal couldn’t be struck, creating chaos throughout the otherwise peaceful club. “i was the one that suggested we go there.”
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thasdorah · 2 years ago
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it's late and work prevented me from doing replies but. I'll send you ic asks or memes if you give this a like
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first-frost-fallen-snow · 2 months ago
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/* For Raye XD */
Memories of Sorrow
《 I must admit, Raye has the least interesting backstory of all of my characters lmaoo so here's his breakup with Naomi. This got long, so I'm putting a cut 》
Raye didn't know how it happened. One minute he was relaxing at home, handing Ed a cup of tea, the next he was thrust into the worst night of his life. He wasn't sure what caused this - he didn't even realize his hand had brushed Ed's when passing the cup. Yet here he was, standing dully in his apartment.
He'd just come home from following that Yagami kid. Something was off, Naomi was turned towards the window, her back to him.
"I'm home-!" he called from the front door, announcing his presence to her while trying to subtly prompt her to greet him. She didn't react at all. Usually, she'd at least get some tea for him, sometimes she'd make dinner if he was out late enough. But today there was nothing.
"Hey, what's-... what's wrong..?" Raye set his things down, coming to her side and taking her hand.
"Raye-.." she started, but shut her mouth and sighed. Her eyes met his as she slowly pulled her hand away.
"I love you, you know that, right?"
Raye knit his brows together, momentarily glancing out the window as if to check for something that had been bothering her.
"I know that, and I love you, too." He murmured, once again taking her hand. His grasp was gentle and loose, in case she pulled away again.
"Naomi, what's going on..?"
Naomi remained silent as she turned towards the window again, her expression mournful, as if she'd lost someone dear to her. Were her parents ill? Something was wrong here, but Raye couldn't understand what.
The next words out of her mouth hit him harder than anything he'd ever heard.
She shifted away from him, unable to look him in the eye, as she said, "I think we should call off the wedding."
"What? No-!" Raye couldn't stop his quick reaction, part of him wished he would've just stood there in silence and taken it. He looked pathetic.
"Naomi, what are you talking about? We're happy here, I moved here to meet your parents for their blessing I-... you- we planned to have kids, remember? You can't just throw that all away-.." he was desperate. Looking back, it wasn't his proudest moment.
"I know, Raye." Her tone was cold, freezing Raye where he stood.
"But that was before all of this. The Kira case it-.. I can't just sit by while you risk your life for this, and I can't do anything about it because I stopped taking cases so we could have a family."
"We can talk about this.." he pleaded, reaching out to her.
"I tried talking to you about it, but you didn't listen." She finally turned to him, only to step away from him.
"I was- I'm sorry, I thought- I was trying to help ease your mind!" He gestured with his hands as he spoke, but never raised them above waist level. He didn't want her to think he'd hit her, he knew what kind of men she dated before.
"Please, we can talk about this-.."
"Raye, I'm not going to be happy being your wife. As much as I love you, I can't do this anymore." She was the one to take Raye's hands this time, giving them a gentle squeeze. She still couldn't look him in the eye. He was partially glad she didn't. There were few times Raye had ever cried in his life, this was the only time he was utterly inconsolable. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"Please..." was all he could muster. With slow and gentle movements, Naomi cupped Raye's cheek. Closing her eyes, she planted a soft kiss on his lips as her thumb wiped his tears away.
Once the kiss was broken, she was gone. She left without another word. All Raye could do was stand where she'd left him, clasping the engagement ring she handed back to him as he wept. He crumpled down like a coat, bringing his knees to his chest and his hands into his hair.
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rpvmsx · 3 months ago
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@elisethetraveller liked for a short starter
Somehow, Johnthaniel didn't recognize this part of the void. If that is, in fact, still where he is. You'd think after a few thousand years, he would have seen it all, but alas, not this.
The presence of another, seemingly living, thing only startled him further.
"...You're a ghost, or something. Aren't you?"
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forestofforever · 1 year ago
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❝ Is there nothing I can do? ❞ (/ for whichever muse fits best ^^)
"No."
Sylvester can barely squeeze out the word between his ragged gasps. Panic has once again forced him to his knees. Black spots are dotting his vision and it feels like his lungs can't get enough air, like he's drowning while on land.
It's not entirely unusual. The panic attacks are just common enough that he's no longer surprised by them, but that hasn't made it any easier to deal with them. He can't imagine a way that this stranger could help, though oddly enough, just listening to her ask the question and looking up to see if he recognizes her face at all seems to take the edge off. It's such a mundane thing, yet still unusual enough for his mind to snap out of all consuming panic he'd felt just moments ago.
"...I guess...I guess you kind of are helping though..."
He smiles weakly as he slowly forces himself to get up from the ground, as unsteady as his legs might be. He's unsure if he should thank her for stopping, for being concerned, for trying to help...or if he should apologize for the inconvenience he's caused her. He ends up doing both.
"Thanks. Sorry."
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analyticaldespair · 1 year ago
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@metalmuseemporium liked for a starter
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Junko stared at the white haired red wearing woman standing in front of her, brow raised in the only sign of surprise made evident physically. "Okay, gonna admit, seeing a literal devil was not on my bingo list of things to happen today." She mused, taking in every detail of the other. Horns seemed genuine and her crimson eyes had a supernatural gleam to them, honestly she could picture Gundham and Sonia being absolutely off the wall in this scenario. After a moment however her surprise gave way to a grin spreading across her lips.
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"So are you like one of the biblical devils or something else? And what would you be needing from me?" She questioned, tilting her head, her mind working to piece together whether the other was a potential ally, enemy, or a mere observer.
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shouyuus · 3 months ago
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─── 恋与深空 APHRODITE MADE ME!!
a mini-series of aphrodisiac-centric fics for our lnds boys bc how else do we celebrate kinktober if not under the influence? here you'll find fics that contain: sex pollen, heat-sex, and not one but two instances of sex-drug induced coitus -- don't say i didn't warn you now!
─── TAG YOU'RE IT .ᐟ.ᐟ
pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged in one or all of these fics! cw and specifics below the cut. pls do have an age indicator on ur blog somewhere if ur asking to be tagged! your my mileage may vary in getting these fics out though, bc the muse is sporadic at best and nonexistent at worse, but i'll eventually have all these written... for sure! also, these summaries/tags might change slightly as i actually start to write the fics to better fit the content, but the broad storkes (ha! get it) won't change :) and without further ado -- here we go!
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─── 黎深 ZAYNE
doctor, doctor!
he's not one known for overindulgence, so when he comes home from the hospital one day with flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes, you're understandably wary of his claim that he's just fine. but a few more minutes of probing reveals that he'd signed up to test a developing cure for a new strand of black-market aphrodisiacs on himself — well, you think, you might be just the person to nurse him back to health.
cw: knowing use of sex drugs, needy!zayn, internal creampies, handjobs, oral (fem receiving), face-riding, missionary
─── 祁煜 RAFAYEL
so it's that time of year again, except this year on ebb day, he's acting stranger than ever, begging you to touch him, to stay close — it isn't till he'd panting beneath you that he finally tells you the truth, that a lemurian in love reacts to ebb day differently. how differently? well, you're about to find out.
cw: heat!sex, premature ejaculation, power bottom!raf, switch!reader, cowgirl, oral (male receiving), abo-adjacent dynamics
─── 沈星回 XAVIER
it's not often that you come home to find xavier sprawled out on the bed, moaning your name, fucking his fist to the thought of you, but when you do, you can't help but wonder — what brought this on? turns out a lumiere fangirl handed him a box of chocolates and he didn't think twice about eating them. so, what better punishment is there than to let him look but not touch?
cw: unknowing use of sex drugs, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, dom!reader, sub!xavier, orgasm denial, footjobs, bit of aftercare
─── 秦彻 SYLUS
when the twins drag sylus back, squawking about how he nearly got shot, you're more than a little worried. but it quickly becomes apparent that what sylus got shot with wasn't just any normal bullet, and it won't be fatal. but, it is going to be a long, long night, and being the caring captive that you are, what to do but to dress his wounds and help him work through whatever it is that he needs working through?
cw: sex pollen, dom!sylus, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, rough sex, doggy style, creampies, backshot, hair-pulling, biting
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ddejavvu · 5 months ago
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mean!logan noticing you’re obsessed with his biceps so he makes you use them to get off one day >:)))
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Greed - Logan Howlett x Reader
send me mean!logan requests!
contents/warnings: mean!logan, degradation, arm/bicep fucking, strength/power imbalance, don't like don't read
thank you to @hanasnx for helping me workshop some possible positions, even if mine differs slightly from indy's 2 examples i had to consult the arm kink professional for guidance
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"'Wish you'd speak up for yourself," Logan grunts one day, voice free of criticism but scrutinizing all the same, "Would be a hell of a lot easier to get you off."
"What?" You blink bewilderedly at him, watching as he slings a wife beater over his head, the white fabric barely stretching to cover his broad chest.
"Every time I flex my arms in front of you, you get all crazy. You never say it," Logan stands at the foot of the bed, watching as you squirm, "But I always smell it."
"Your arms are nice." You supply weakly, throat suddenly dry and hollow, "I like them."
"I know." Logan laughs, a huff that's not mean but might as well be for the way it mortifies you, "Like I said, I can tell. But you never say anything, honey. Why's that?"
You detest the way his attention is fixated solely on you. It makes you writhe in your seat, it makes an ache throb between your legs while your brain desperately grasps at straws to figure out what to say.
"I dunno," Is the brilliant response you land on, and his chest rocks with a silent scoff.
"I know why," He prods, crossing his arms. The arms that you can't stop thinking about. "You think talking about what you like is dirty, and you think you're oh-so-pure. But I can smell you- you smell filthy. You're no saint. I've had you choking on my cock before, you're not fooling me. So what do you want?"
Your eyes fall to his arms without any thought behind the motion. He notices, of course, because he's studying you for any miniscule reaction.
"That's not enough." Logan growls, frustration tinging his gruff voice, and you're sure he's smelling the growing arousal between your thighs, "I said tell me."
"I- I want..." You falter, the words on the tip of your tongue but more raunchy than you'd ever be brave enough to voice.
"If you can't ask for it, you're not getting it." Logan decides, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he tightens the way they're crossed against his chest.
You consider abandoning ship. Seceding into silence, and letting Logan down as well as yourself. Taking the safe route.
But you're throbbing. You're aching, Logan's scrutiny combined with the look of his flexed arms is sending you into overdrive, and there's a steady heartbeat between your thighs that's begging for attention. It works the same way booze does, emboldening you, and you blurt out with courage never-before-seen, "I want to ride your arms."
He looks half impressed that you'd said anything at all, and half stunned that you'd said that much, that plainly.
His brows raise, bushy and angled to create a perfect arch.
"Wow. Pretty nasty stuff." He muses, faux-considerate as if he hadn't demanded a voice from you. Still, he doesn't move- so why had he asked?
You shift gently in your seat, but his eyes track your every move like a hunter.
"Well," He lingers in place, arms still crossed, the perfect eye-candy for you, "You gonna say please, or what?"
"Please," You blurt with burning cheeks, and he snickers at your eagerness.
"See? You're not so sweet." He advances, arms coming uncrossed to brace his weight on the bed, meaning thick cords of muscle strain against the confines of his skin, showcased as he crawls towards you, "You couldn't even remember to say please, just demanded to get off on me like I'm some toy."
"Logan, that's not-"
"Inconsiderate." He decides, eyes on your body instead of your face as he scans over your thinly-clad chest, "You're only in it for the sex, aren't you, you little minx?"
"Stop." You plead, feeling as dirty as his words imply. You're not- Logan is the love of your life, but you won't pretend you hate sex with him. But he's making you feel so dirty, like a fiend who wants nothing but his dick.
His hand trails between your thighs but it's different this time, and his fingers toy with your clit only as a prerequisite. You let him open you up, you let his fingers ease your muscles looser as his mouth eases your own loose. His tongue dips inside and licks you into submission, your brain activity lowering the more he kisses you. He soon snakes his arm between your legs, offering you up your real prize: the thick, muscular width of his bicep.
It's an awkward angle, you won't lie. But squeezing your thighs around his arm presses delicious friction against your clit, and the rocking of your hips is an instinct more than it is a thought-out motion.
Logan rests on his stomach on the bed, his arm stretched out in front of him to provide your seat. It means he has to crane upwards to see you, and you thank his supernatural strength for the way that he doesn't break a sweat as you rub yourself wantonly on his arm. His face is not exactly at your own level, which means you can't kiss him silly like you want to. But craning his neck upwards means that his face lands between your tits, and you feel the rough burn of his scruff against your skin as he nestles into your warm skin.
Logan is, perhaps, the ideal individual to suit your cravings for arm muscles. Not only does he have the perfect build, but his increased strength means that he's able to bare his bicep for you to get off on, even lifting it off of the bed to offer you increased friction. Perhaps a normal man would tire in seconds, but Logan- Logan could hold on longer than you.
Grinding against the plentiful mass of muscle in his bicep means that you're rutting up against him, and you have to spread your legs as far apart as possible to ensure that your cunt is met with the already-slickened surface of Logan's bare arm. You're making a mess despite still being in your pajamas, because the shorts you'd been sleeping in offer very little fabric to defend Logan's skin from your copious arousal.
Logan nips at a spot on your left breast, humming gruffly into your chest as you gasp slightly at the intrusion. It breaks your concentration and you have to grip harder at the sheets to fall back into your laborious rhythm.
"Not easy, hm? You've gotta work for it," Logan grunts, mouth moving against your chest as he takes a nipple into his mouth, "Nasty girl, 's a real workout to fuck this dirty, isn't it?"
"Logan, I- I'm not dirty," You whimper, tears beading in your eyes at his gruff accusations, "I'm not."
His laugh is more of a bark than anything, and he ducks his head away from your chest to point with his chin at the mess you're making on his arm.
"That's not dirty? You're dripping- you're making a real mess'a my arm, sweetheart. Dirty little cunt's drooling all over me."
The image of your slick coating Logan's arm, glistening against his muscles throws your pleasure into overdrive. Your orgasm rapidly approaches, the memory of his fingers inside of you only minutes before making up completely for the lack of penetration you get from his bicep. You squeeze your thighs even tighter around Logan's arm, pinning it to your cunt with an almost painful force as you hump against it desperately.
"You're fucking filthy." Logan hisses against your tits, taking one in between his teeth and biting, hard, "Humping my arm like a damn dog. Feel good, honey? Feel how strong I am?"
He flexes harder, tenses his muscles just that much more, and you feel them stiffen impossibly harder beneath your pussy. It's that and the way he mouths at your tits, growling such indecent accusations into their flushed warmth that sends you over the edge, a feeble cry escaping your lips as your hips begin trembling, twitching as you grind against his arm impossibly faster to fulfil your orgasm.
You're sure the bedsheets have suffered your release as much as Logan's arm has, but he's never seriously chided you for making a mess, and you're sure he won't this time. He groans himself as you ride through your orgasm on his arm and you realize only now as you come down from your high that he's been rutting against the mattress, cock still trapped in the confines of his sweatpants. If he hasn't managed to get off on the mattress you'll help him now, granting him access to all the slick warmth that his arm provided.
Now the pressure of his bicep is overstimulating as it presses constantly against your cunt and you ease off of it, giving Logan a prime view of your ruined, sensitive cunt as you whine at the sensitivity.
"Impressive," He hums, "Never thought I'd have you rubbing all over my arm like that."
"It's really strong. You're- you're really strong, Logan, it's nice."
"Yeah?" He grins, more of a smirk perhaps, as something sharp invades his eyes, "All that muscle gets you going? Knowing I'm stronger than you?"
"You are," Your breath shudders as you let it out, and he pushes up on his arms, one still covered in your slick release. He seems suddenly intent on showcasing that strength difference, muscles bulging as he crawls across the mattress to slot himself on top of your fucked-out form.
"I am." He agrees, mouth pressing hungrily to yours as the same arm you'd just got off on curls around your back and cements you to him, his hips already rutting against your own, "Wanna find out how much stronger I am?"
"Yes. Logan, yes, I-" He seizes your mouth in another kiss, cutting off your desperate pleas.
"Fucking try to move." He grunts, almost a growl with how guttural and gruff it sounds against the hollow of your parted lips as his other hand holds your hip firmly, almost crushingly in place, "I'll pin you down 'n hold you still, greedy girl."
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crowdedmidnight · 2 years ago
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Closed Starter for @bewitchingbaker​
Muse: Bethany Evans [Sofia Carson, 22–29 yrs old || Witch}
Plot:  Bethany is on the run from her Witch Hunter Boyfriend, and seeks solace in Chris. She asked him to do a spell on her to forget the witch hunter.
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“Chrrrrrissssss!” Beth whines loudly, pouting as she moves from the dinner table to his lap on the couch. Her arms snake around his neck, as she readjusts herself in his lap. “I think the spell is working too good.” Beth knew it was risky asking him to do the spell, but she couldn’t sleep with her mind always coming back to him. It made her start to see things that weren’t there and cause her spells to go wacky when she’d try and cast. She buries her face in his neck. “Hmmm... you actually smell really good. What are you wearing? Calvin Cline?”
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starzradio · 17 days ago
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BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
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when your husband’s secretary acts just a little too friendly around him.
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FEATURING: office worker! nanami kento x wife! reader
CONTENTS: 18+ content, mdni. semi-public sex, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, fingering, use of pet names (sweetheart & my love)
WORD COUNT: 1k+
AUTHOR’S NOTE: so ik nanami might b too professional for this but 🤫🤫
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"you need an appointment to see mr. nanami."
the receptionist spoke in a bored tone, barely looking up from her computer to give you a once-over. all the while she rolled her eyes and obnoxiously smacked her gum, like you were the one wasting her time.
but before you even had the chance to answer, the office door creaked open. "and i thought i mentioned that she could come in without needing one," nanami spoke up, appearing beside her desk.
the receptionist straightened up and busied herself with 'stacking' a couple papers on her desk. fluttering her lashes when she did look up at him, leaning forward just the slightest bit. "sorry, sir. you've just been soo busy and you did mention you didn't want anyone to bother you."
you honestly couldn't blame her, though. not when your husband had walked out of his office without his suit jacket on—the sleeves of his blue button down pushed up and showing off his watch. and well, the most important thing, his wedding ring. which she was blatantly trying to disregard.
"i'm aware. but you should know that doesn't apply to my wife, she's welcome to enter whenever she pleases," you could practically see her jaw clench as soon as he called you his wife, "please don't have me repeat myself. again."
"yes, sir. it won't happen again."
what she'd promised last time.
you stepped foot into the office, ceiling to floor windows decorating the space behind his desk. your heels clacked against the pristine floors, walking over to one of the wooden chairs.
"i brought you some lunch. saw that you forgot your bento at home and i wasn't sure if you brought any money to buy lunch," you spoke up, giving him a soft smile as you offered him the bento.
"thank you," he took the bento from you, setting aside, "but i think i'd like to have something different for lunch," kento cleared the space in front of him, patting on the wooden desk. a silent invitation. the skirt you had on rose up when you took a seat. the perfect offering if you'd ask nanami.
calloused hands ran down your legs, gently spreading them open. taking his time despite the thirty minute time constraint. "i'm sorry about her, by the way," nanami spoke up in a whisper, his lips pressing against your calf. "i don't know how much more obvious i need to be about being happily married."
his lips were reverent as he kissed up your leg, one of his hands holding the other in place. "like i'd ever want anyone but you, my love," he murmured, more so to himself, gently nibbling on your inner thigh. where only he'd be able to see them after. your legs spread apart almost instinctively, giving nanami the perfect view of the lace panties he adored so much.
and as much as he loved seeing you in them, the sight of you without them was much better. kento hooked one finger around the waistband, slowly removing them. sliding them inch by inch down your legs. "you didn't think we should hurry up, mr. nanami?" you questioned teasingly, pushing his hair back to take a look at his face.
"and why would we do that, mrs. nanami? i want to enjoy our time here," he pulled the underwear off, letting it fall to the floor. "well, you know you're sooo busy," you drawled, twirling a hair strand in between your fingers. he let out a small scoff, gently nipping at your leg in retaliation.
"never busy enough for you, you know that," nanami's voice came out muffled, licking a stripe up your cunt. he swirled his tongue around your clit before moving down, running the tip of his tongue down your folds. "never?" you mused, looking down at nanami. he wasn't paying that much attention to you anymore—rather, just your pussy.
"never," he muttered offhandedly, pushing a finger inside of you. your heels dug into his shoulder blades, your back arched when kento curled his fingers to hit your g-spot. and while it'd hurt at first—it was a pain that nanami was more than welcome to receive if it meant getting to lose himself in you.
your nails—paid for by yours truly—tugged on his hair, pulling him closer to your dripping cunt. kento clicked his tongue, looking up at you, "come on, use your words. tell me what you want and i'll give it to you."
"more, please," you responded almost immediately, your grip on his hair loosening up. just a bit. he replaced his tongue with two fingers, slowly getting past that initial resistance before pushing them in and out of you.
even with his glasses fogging up with every heavy breath that he took and your slick covering his mouth and chin, nanami continued to push his fingers inside of you. coaxing out all the pretty little noises you were making. "you can be a little louder, no? just a little bit, sweetheart," nanami curled his fingers, drawing out a whine from your lips.
you dripped onto his digits with each thrust, the golden wedding band on his finger glistening against the office lights. "k-ken, don't stop," your nails dug deeper into his hair, messing up the time he took fixing it this morning. you weren't even sure what was louder anymore—the squelching in between your legs or your moans.
your thighs clamped tightly around his head, holding him in place. "open them, darling. you can take it, you even asked me for more," kento felt the way your legs trembled—the way you were almost hesitant to open your legs again. you were close. "too much, too much," your moan had come out louder this time—loud enough to bleed through the walls.
not that it mattered.
you felt that familiar pressure build up in your lower tummy, your legs threatening to close again all the while your toes curled against the leather heels. too much, you'd said, and you still found yourself needing even more. "cum for me sweetheart, you can take it. take what's yours," his words served as a final push, your orgasm washing over you like a wave.
nanami pulled his dripping fingers out from your cunt and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping them off. effortlessly, he wiped away the spit and slick dribbling down his chin before carelessly tossing the handkerchief to the side. like it was nothing more than just a bother.
your chest heaved as you leaned back against the desk, watching your husband stand up from his spot. a wet patch adorned the front of his khaki pants, his cock practically twitching against the confines of his boxers. "i think i'll just skip ahead to the main course."
needless to say, you didn't have any more trouble coming into nanami's office after that <3
662 notes · View notes
oepionie · 2 years ago
Text
— "THE PRINCESS TREATMENT." various
SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend and the different ways he pampers and spoils you rotten ♡
⊹ [ cw ] — mentions of winter storms, prefect is implied to have bad living conditions, mild violence in the tweels parts, jade breaks someone's wrist, crowley slander, ace slander◞
⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFFY! feminine reader! no gendered pronouns used, riddle uses his dorm position to spoil you, seeing trey driving is very hot, deuce biceps, leona and azul sugar daddy era, ruggie would rather freeze to death than have you be cold, jack carries you, jade and floyd will fight for you, rook makes you his muse and paints you, malleus renovates the entire diasomnia dorm for you, sebek carries your pink handbags◞
⊹ [ characters ] — riddle, trey, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, rook, malleus, sebek◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 4.9k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞
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—♰ RIDDLE
Princess treatment, Like—literally
Loathe is Riddle to admit—He can't deny the fact that being his lover meant you got special treatment. Prime example being your position at unbirthday parties. At the banquet table, just beside Riddle's designated throne, was your throne. Similar in style, it had a heart-shaped crest and golden frame; the only difference was that it was milky white rather than deep red. And despite his best efforts to downplay the favoritism shown to you, Riddle knows for a fact that he had the throne commissioned himself.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Come with me." The dorm leader says as he moves towards you, leading you towards your throne. He didn't fail to notice how your legs shook slightly as you walked alongside him or how your hands didn’t leave his coat once. Not that he minded.
The redhead clasped your hands in his as he sat you down onto the leather seat before adjusting the train of your dress to ensure that it wouldn't bother you.
"How are you fairing?" Riddle asked softly, kneeling before you to slip a leather-clad hand behind your knees. He set your feet up on a plush stool and slipped your pointed heels off, gently caressing your ankles. "I overheard you earlier, griping about your feet aching. I certainly hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."
"Ah, no. I just chose the wrong heels today. They're too pointy." You sighed, poking at your crimson red heels, which were discarded to the grassy sides. Groaning, you reclined back on your throne, the billowing, fluffy skirt of the dress Riddle had recently gifted tumbling all about you.
"I see." Riddle nodded in understanding, taking your hand and pressing a quick gentlemanly kiss on your wrists. "The croquet game is up next. I suppose you'd rather stay here?"
"Yeah, I think I need some alone time," you sigh. Riddle squeezes once more your hand in reply, letting his eyes shut in contemplation.
"Very well," He hums, moving to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "Do rest here a while, rose."
There was a soft smile as the leather of his hands glide across your back. "Oh, and, please let a member of my dorm know if you ever need anything. Worry not. I've instructed everyone here to be at your beck and call."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ TREY
Passenger princess treatment<3
Every weekend, it was routine for Trey to whisk you away from your beaten-up dorm. After all, he was sure it was nice to spend the day in a place where you weren't inhaling dust and spiders every second. Both of you would always go over to his parent's café in the city for a simple little brunch date. And without fail, Trey would always pick you up at 9am sharp by the school gates.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"… I was made for lovin' you, baby
You were made for lovin' me
And I can't get enough of you, baby
Can you get enough of me?"
Soft music played from the car's radio as the third-year weaved through the barren intersections, careful and slow. It seems as if the roads were merciful to you both today, calm and free of any traffic.
Trey languidly reaches one of his hands, calloused from his years of baking, over to rest gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs soft circles and nonsensical patterns over your plump skin while the other gripped the steering wheel in a loose hold, biceps flexing as he twisted the wheel to turn the car.
Focused as he was, you didn't miss how his gaze flits back and forth between the road and you, the expression swimming within them almost akin to a distant longing.
You place your hand atop his and lean against the passenger door. A wide grin spreads over your glossy red lips as you shake your head playfully. "Keep your eyes on the road."
Mirthful laughter spills from your mouth before your eyes flutter shut as you sway along to the song, mindlessly kicking your legs around. "Crashing and going to the hospital doesn't really sound like a good date idea."
A pensive smile creeps up on Trey's face, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah? I just can't help it. You're a much more interesting sight."
He watched as the sun's dazzling light bathed your image in a beautiful, pleasant glow. To him, you looked ethereal, seemingly glowing and shining under the golden streaks of sunlight that pour through the windshield.
"What did I just say?" you sighed, smiling cheekily as you smoothed a hand over his clover-colored hair, fixing the stray strands moved askew by the wind from the open windows. "Hello~? Wonderland to Trey? Eyes on the road?"
He paused for a while before chuckling, his hands splaying out on the steering wheel as he turned his gaze back front. "Right, right. I'll be careful, princess."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  DEUCE
Carries your things for you and will not let you do any heavy lifting at all plus he buys you drinks!
Screw Crowley Dire. You were sick of Ramshackle's awful, scratchy furniture. For once, you wished you could sit on something that wasn't littered with dust bunnies or looked like it came straight from the depths of the underworld—no offense to Idia. And so, using the money you had painstakingly saved over the last six months, you decided to buy a cute, frilly sofa.
Problem was—you couldn't lift it at all. It was too wide and heavy for your poor untrained arms. Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was more than happy to help ^^
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Um…Deuce? Are you sure you don't want me to work?" Perched atop the kitchen counters, you were worriedly staring down at him.
While he was preoccupied with lifting the couch, you were lazily sipping on a bubble tea—a drink which he bought for you himself. Humming, you let your gaze move from the soft line of his cheekbone, to the sharper cut of his jaw, before resting it onto the thick of his arms. " I don't mind helping, you know."
Deuce was standing by the door, arms tucked beneath the couch as he braced himself for lifting. "Yeah, I got this. Don't worry."
Now, why was he here, exactly? Well…First off, you didn't intend to call him at all.
In the middle of trying to haul your couch into Ramshackle's entrance, Deuce had appeared out of nowhere, offering his help. Despite your vehement denial, the stubborn boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and eventually forced you to sit down, shoving the bright, bubbly drink in your hand without saying a word.
So, here you were. Shamelessly ogling at him while he tried to find a way to bring the couch in.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt—Oh!" You gasped, hand flying up to cover your agape mouth when Deuce easily lifted it up as if it were made of air. In response to your expression of astonishment, he grinned and playfully flexed his arms. "See?"
While Deuce set the couch down in front of the TV, you slipped off the counters and strode over to him. Jumping into his embrace, you draped your arms around his shoulder and pressed a big kiss on his cheeks, watching in delight as his face exploded in pink. "You're so strong! Thank you so much!"
Deuce let a wobbly smile stretch across his burning cheeks, his hands slack atop your hips. "Y-Yeah! No problem."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ LEONA
Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 + Hints at passenger princess treatment
Leona Kingscholar was not a romantic. Naturally, he has stayed to himself ever since he was little. This lion was not the kind to be sentimental, gooey, or emotional. So it is astonishing how quickly this stone-cold personality of his breaks down when he's around you.
Every little thing you do drives him into a lovesick frenzy, and he has no idea how to stop it. He wasn't particularly into grand displays of affection or romantic gestures. Ergo, in an effort to express his adoration, he turns to more…costly methods.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Tell me what you want." Leona demands, tone serious as he wraps a rough yet protective arm around your hips. Both of you were standing smack dab in the middle of a large shopping mall. Though the more you stood here, the more you began to realize that this place wasn't really your…ordinary mall.
First and foremost, when Leona pulled up, there was private parking, and that was already intimidating to you in and of itself. Second, it seems like every single store in here was a luxury brand. You've seen a couple of these logos plastered onto the tags of Vil's or Jade and Floyd's clothes.
As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure their plastic bags cost more than your entire yearly allowance combined.
"Ah, um…"  A nervous sweat built up on your brow as you fished your wallet out, peering into what little funds you had. "Leona, honey—I just needed to get some school supplies…Is there a different mall we can go to?" You sheepishly smiled up at him. "I don't think I can afford to get anything here."
Silence immediately follows as Leona stares at you with a dumbfounded look. Blinking bluntly, he scoffs. "Who said you were paying?"
"Hu-Huh?" You stammered, fiddling with your wallet. The lion's eyes were ripped wide open in shock, as if the mere thought of you spending your own money on your own things was a criminal act. Something so ludicrous that even a person with his deceptive persona finds it distasteful.
"Ain't it obvious already? I'm paying," Leona huffs, dragging you to a nearby jewelry shop. Behind the glass were displays of glittering pearls and jewels, each of which had delicate and intricate carvings. "And we're gettin' more than stationary."
"But-!" You start, only to get interrupted as his calloused hand clamps over your mouth.
"No buts."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  RUGGIE
Giving you his coat when you're cold and just being sickeningly sweet<3
Ruggie was used to working for others, and this habit of his pours over to you. Though it wouldn't take long for people to notice that his acts of labor was…different with you.
For others, Ruggie works because there's an exchange, a benefit, or a payment for him. For you, however, he does things with no motive in mind. He would never ask for more because he genuinely didn't need anything more, and if he ever did, a simple kiss or hug from you would be plenty.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
It was a frigid winter day and both of you were walking to school together, a routine you both developed over the past few months. As you followed him through the deep snowfall, the cold wind nipped and bit at your skin, making you shudder. Despite the struggle, you push on, the rough pads of your boots dragging along the thick blankets of snow.
Unfortunately for you, the flimsy cardigan you bought at Sam's did nothing to keep your body safe from the cruel winter.
While Ruggie's oversized warm coat helps kept him sufficiently warmed up, you, on the other hand, are struggling. You know you should have gotten a thicker coat, but this was all you could afford last minute.
Ever so caring, your boyfriend is quick to notice this and turns back around, trudging through the snow to meet you.
"C'mere," Ruggie drags you into his embrace and starts to slowly inch the coat off his shoulders. With your form now pushed against his body, he takes the chance to press a soft kiss against your cheeks. At the exchange of affection, both of you erupt in soft giggles, lovesick grins stretched across your lips.
The moment feels intimate, loving, and safe.
"Here ya' go." Suddenly he's engulfing you in his thick cloak and zipping it up. Protesting, you try to give it back, but all he does is snicker and shake his head. He peppers warm kisses on the side of your bare frostbitten neck, relishing in the giggles that spill from your lips. "Keep it. I can handle the cold. I'm used to it but I can't have you freezin' out here, now can I?"
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  JACK
Carries you when your feet start to hurt, tee hee
Jack was strong and well-disciplined. He's worked hard and trained himself to peak physical condition, yet even then, he's continually seeking to improve himself even more. He's tried it all: fitness routines, weight lifting, and sports. And it pays off.
His strength has proven useful in a variety of circumstances. from physical education classes, sporting events, marathons, and, strangely enough, carrying you when your heels begin to hurt your feet.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Jack looks around the booths as he takes your hands in his, pulling you along the festival crowds, "Hm. I think the takoyaki stand is around here. You were craving that earlier, right?" If it weren't for the intense dull ache at the bottom of your ankles, you would have been delighted to hear about the delectable octopus snack.
Instead, you hissed and pulled on the beastman's hand, halting to a stop, unable to take the torture of your heels any longer. "Jack, hold on a second."
Groaning, you slouch down on a nearby bench and kick off your heels, scowling at the dull throb that's pressing itself against the back of your foot. Jack quickly knelt down by your side, ears alert and tail swishing.
"What's wrong?" He questions as he drags your legs over to rest on top of his firm thighs. "Do your feet hurt?"
"Yeah," you sigh. "I kinda regret putting on heels at a festival like this…I didn't realize it would hurt so bad. I just wanted to look cute."
The wolf ponders for a moment before swiftly turning around, presenting his back to you, "Get on."
"Eh?" You blinked, tilting your head to the side. Jack looks away, keeping his head tilted to the ground as a dark flush swept over his skin. "I'll carry you…I-If your feet hurt, I won't mind carrying you."
"Oh!" Smiling, you slip onto his back and wrap your arms snug around his neck. Jack clutches your heels in one hand while the other grasps onto your thigh. The beastman easily stands up, supporting both his and your weight as he heads towards the food stands.
"Who knew you were such a softie, Jack! Hehe." You tease, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck. The beastman flushed even more, avoiding your gaze at all cost.
"Tch. I-I don't go around doing this for anyone."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  AZUL
Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 #2
Azul lived to spoil you.
For you, the octo-mer gleefully buys mountains of clothing. Your entire wardrobe has been thoughtfully planned by him (and often rapidly purchased, Floyd is always the victim to his 12am shopping whims).
Other than clothing, he's also quite fond of jewelry. He clasps pure pearls to your ears, drapes diamonds over your neck, and slips rings onto your fingers. It would be the highlight of Azul's day to see the items he had purchased for you proudly displayed for all the students on campus to see.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Shall we?" he asks softly as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up from your chair. The smooth white silk of your dress cascades off the plush leather seat, draping down to your ankles. Azul swiftly guides you away from the lounge, signaling at both Floyd and Jade in the corner to clean up before turning his attention back to you, once more. "I hope the food was to your liking, angelfish?"
"Oh, it was," you confirm, a smile playing on your lips. Leaning up, you press a warm kiss against his lips, one which he returns. "Thank you for the wonderful night, Azul! The dress as well. It looks beautiful."
"Why, of course." The octo-mer hums, running his hand up your back. As he slips both of you into his room, he shuts the door with his foot and guides you to his vanity. "Though I do have one last gift."
"Another?" You chuckle, "Don't you think you spoil me too much? I don't want it to seem like I'm leeching off of you…"
"No, you could never," Azul says as he motions you to a seat near the table of his vanity. The octo-mer reaches over and opens a drawer, revealing a nice velvet box.
As the box is opened, a gorgeous sea-glass necklace with a stunning silver-coral colour is exhibited to you. It sat prettily atop a white plush pillow, winking at you. Azul deftly runs a hand up your neck to pull your hair back and your lips parts in a "o" when he clasps it on.
"Azul," you breathlessly murmur. "I can't possibly—This must have cost a fortune."
"It's for you," Azul smiles. "Only for you."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰  JADE
You have scary eel privileges'
It was not uncommon for Jade to come knocking at your door in opportune times of the night to accompany you out for a walk. You mentioned once how you loved stargazing and Jade hasn't let that go since. For he too had always carried a fondness for the night, more specifically, the moon.
It was constant, a repetitive lustrous cycle, and despite his thrill seeking nature, he took comfort in its consistency. Walks with you were the highlight of his week, and he certainly does not take interruptions from pesky little bugs lightly.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
The night sky above Ramshackle was littered with painted specs of sparkling stars, burning brightly amidst the gradients of blue and black. Jade had a firm hand situated by the small of your back, gently guiding you along the dirt path of the trail.
"It's so beautiful…" You murmur in astonishment, craning your head up to peer up at the canvas of stars. Chuckling, Jade tugs you in closer to slip his large jacket over your shoulders. "I'm glad you like it, pearl. I do hope it's not too cold?"
"Not at all."
Both of you continue along your hike, going deeper and deeper into the thick, dense forest. As you trudged on, a bundle of wild mushrooms caught your eye and you halted to a stop, recognizing the patterns and spots on the fungi in a book Jade had once shown you.
"Wait here a moment. I just saw those mushrooms you wanted so bad. I'll go get it!" Before Jade could even reply, you were already off, sneaking past tall bushes and prickly trees. 
Just as you were about to pick your first mushroom, a low growl interrupts you. Freezing, your eyes dart upward to see a Savanaclaw student towering over your form. 
He did not seem happy.
"Oya? You're that Ramshackle punk, aren't you?…I have to say, Leona let you off real easy after that little spy mission you did in our dorm." He sneers, rolling the joints of his shoulders and moving closer, backing you up against a tree. "That's all good with me…Cuz' If he won't do something bout' it, then I will."
Suddenly, he was drawing his fist back, aiming for you. The sudden shift happened so quickly that all you could do was flinch and hunch over, preparing yourself for a hit.
Only for it to never come.
"My, my," a familiar voice muses. Breath hitching in your throat, you peek up and see Jade looming behind the boy. The eel's hand was coiled tight around the beastman's wrist, clasping tighter and tighter until there was a sickening snap. 
"How foolish of you to think I would allow that."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ FLOYD
You have scary eel privileges' #2
Floyd was a lot softer and caring than a lot of people would give him credit for. That or he just gives you special treatment. After all, the big bad eel found you endearing. You were his one and only beloved little shrimpy. 
You were the one who stood by him even when others dismissed him as strange or frightful because you loved and adored him wholeheartedly. So, he can't help but be protective of you.
Nothing will ever hurt you so long as he's by your side.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"Shrimpy? What're you doing here?"
Sniffles and cries wreck your chest as you curled up on Floyd's bed, clutching his shrimp plush tight in your arms. Said eel was standing by the door, a look of shock plastered onto his features before it turned ice-cold as he approached your weeping form.
"My poor shrimpy…" Floyd rasps, tugging off his gloves to cup your wet cheeks with his big hands. "What's wrong with my shrimpy? Did someone do this? I'll squeeze 'em if they did."
The eel crawls into bed with you, tugging the plush out of your arms and slipping himself into your embrace. Soft warm kisses are peppered on your wet cheeks as Floyd coos at you.
Sobbing, you raise a hand to furiously wipe at your eyes before exclaiming, "It's Grim again! Why does he have to be so difficult?! I worked so hard for my alchemy exam, but it seems like he doesn't care! He's brought our grades down again!"
"It's that cat of yours again, huh?" Floyd clicked his tongue, thumb pressing against the corner of your teary eyes. He pressed a warm palm to your cheek, examining your face with close inspection as he slowly reached for your hand and set it down atop his beating heart. "No worries. Just let it all out, shrimpy. I'll have a talk with the baby seal later hehe~"
You sniffed and brushed his comments aside as you pulled away from the embrace, an action which made him pout. "…I'm not sure he'd even listen. Grim is as stubborn as a rock." 
"We'll see about that, shrimpy." Floyd scoffs, a frown on his face clearly visible as he pulls you closer once more.
"Yanno, I'm pretty good at alchemy myself." Floyd chirps, a dark grin slowly stretching across his cheeks. "I'm sure the baby seal won't mind having a private tutor session with good ol' me."
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ ROOK
This man WORSHIPS the ground you walk on.
As they say, "Before you die, experience the love of a writer, poet or painter. If you're lucky enough to be an artist's muse, they will immortalize you." Such a muse you were to Rook.
Though it would take quite a lot of coaxing before he could have the pleasure of having you as his muse, at the rare moments you did agree—Rook did his utmost best to do you justice on the canvas.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Portraiture looked into the life of the subject, revealed what was hidden deep inside, and examined it. With his hunter-like manner, Rook was all too acquainted with this study.
"A-Am I doing this right?" You murmur, trying your best not to move around as you held a bouquet of daisies up to your chest. There was a cream-tinted dress draped across your body as you reclined against the backdrop Rook had set up.
"Oui. Such beauty in your gaze, trickster. Angels lurk behind your eyes." The hunter flirts, resolute gazed locked onto your flustered ones as he drags his brush against the palette. There was an experiment with the hues for a time before he blended a few other colors.
"I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to do this." As he'd found the color he wanted, Rook turned back to you. He took careful note of every nuance and detail of your glowing visage and committed as much as he could to memory. Rook knew he’d have to make your portrait perfect. He simply couldn’t allow for anything else.
"You're very persistent," you huff with a small smile on your face. "I had to cave in eventually, huh?"
"But, of course!" Rook cheekily grins, turning his attention back to the canvas. "I can't let a chance like this pass me by."
Time passed and layers upon layers of color came together to form the picture he sought after. Out to the right, spread across a lush sofa, was your incandescent form. And he surely didn't hold back on the details. The creases in the fabric, the curve of your smile, and the contours of the plush pillows scattered on either side of the plush crimson sofa all draw the eye.
It was a large painting that he had boldly placed in Pomefiore's living room, much to Vil's chagrin. Try as he might, the dormleader couldn't get the hunter to remove it at all.
───────────────────── · ·
— ♰ MALLEUS
Princess treatment? pff. That's cute. No, it's queen treatment to him.
You had a bad tendency of rambling on about whatever that came to mind, often without realising that another person was in the same room as you. Even if you initially didn't mind this little quirk of yours, recent events have made you realise that you should probably curb your mouth-running.
Even more so considering that your partner, caring as he was, had a tendency to be quite…impulsive. Especially when it comes to matters concerning your comfort and well-being.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
Malleus was flipping through a catalogue of colour samples and scrutinizing each texture with careful judgment. Slipping the page into your hands, he murmurs, "This is all rather lovely. Perhaps a dark crimson will suffice. Or would you like this wine red dye, my dear?" The dragon looked at you, patiently awaiting your response.
Only for there to be none.
You stood awkwardly at his side, your cheeks flaming up with shame. Tugging at his coat, you rose up on your tiptoes and whispered quietly, "Tsunotaro…when I whined about it being cold, I didn't mean for you to go this far."
"Oh?" He quirks a brow up, "Do you not like these colors?"
"Mal," you utter gently, handing the catalogue back to him. "I don't really think we need to—"
"Young Master. If I may," Sebek interrupts, voice raising to a strained high squeak, "Please do tell. Why are we replacing every.single marble floor in the dorm…with carpet?"
Malleus draws you in his arms, all while ignoring the enraged stare painted on Sebek's face. "My darling's feet become frigid cold when they walk along the marble flooring. I think it's due time for it to get redone," he says while running his hands tenderly up your back and gazing at you with a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Sebek blinks, a strained smile sneaking up on his cheeks, "Well. I'm sure they can use slippers—"
"Nonsense." Malleus snarls, eyes flashing a luminous green. "How dare you even think of subjecting them to such a ludicrous act. Hmph. Using…slippers—How preposterous." 
"No. I think my way is much better." Shaking his head, Malleus turns back to the catalogue—paying no mind to the grief-stricken look on his retainer's face. "Now dearest, do you think burgundy would look good in the kitchen?"
───────────────────── · ·
—♰ SEBEK
Carries your sparkly pink purses for you, slay king<3
Sebek was not a fool. The fae was well aware he could be a bit…much at times. And even if he doesn't express it, he really values your nearly infinite patience with him. 
The boy was awkward at affection, and this is especially highlighted when it comes to anything involving romantic gestures. Even though your snappy crocodile was hard-headed and stubborn at times, he still showed you how much he cared in his own little ways. Even if it were something as simple as carrying your sparkly pink bag around the campus.
꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.
"You ought to have known better than to jest so lightly about Diasomnia that way!" Sebek barks out, a leather-clad finger digging deep into Ace's chest. However, as opposed to being upset as Sebek had anticipated, the ginger chortles, muffled giggles sneaking past his clamped up lips.
"Sebek, buddy." Ace wheezes out, shoulders shaking from the strain of his suppressed laughter. "It's kinda hard to take you seriously…wh-when you have that."
The Heartslabyul runt gestures towards your designer purse, which was snugly resting against Sebek's bicep, slung over his shoulder. 
It was quite the eye-catcher. The sparkling pink diamonds of its handle twinkled a bright brilliant white, so bright in fact that it was almost blinding. 
Epel takes notice of the logo and crocodile keychain attached to it and he perks up.
"Oh, it's one of those girly-lookin' designer bags Vil is always yappin' about," Epel points out, squinting his eyes to get a better look at it. "Ain't that the prefect's bag?"
Unfazed by Ace's mocking, Sebek scoffs arrogantly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Indeed, it is. As a knight-in-training, it is only right for me to possess the quality of a gentleman. Chivalrous acts like this are nothing to be ashamed of." He abruptly snapped his head over to glower at Ace, who was sitting rather comfortably in the cafeteria bench, crossing one leg over the over as he met Sebek's irritated stare. "Not that I anticipate someone like you to ever have experience with it.."
Sebek then rose from the table and strode boldly in the direction of your classroom, the pink bag swinging with each heavy step he took. Epel was leaning over the table, placing a shaky hand on Ace's shoulder as loud laughter racked through his body.
"Darn' right," Epel cackles, wiping the tears away from his eyes before turning to the ginger. "Nice ta' see someone still has sum chivalry…Unlike you, Ace."
The ginger visibly deflates, rolling his eyes as he mutters, "Yeah, yeah. We get it. He's down bad."
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