#no one comment or think thoughts about my body please
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nerdlvr · 2 days ago
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✩ 10 points for hufflepuff !
(MDNI)
smut , hufflepuff!haechan x slytherin!reader (typical) , created this from my 5 books worth of harry potter knowledge pls forgive me , had to throw one merlin's beard in there or else what harry potter au would this be , backshots on a school desk , they're all over the age of 18 tyvm , big dick hyuck (canon) , cocky kinda mean reader , nervous whiny hyuck , unprotected sex , creampie , mentions at the end of renjun and a surprise hufflepuff haha... , requested here !
"wouldn't it be fun to fuck one of those little oafs?"
you rolled your eyes at your very distracted friend, his gaze directed at the table across from yours,
"jun, what are you on about now? focus, and stop thinking about ruining those poor hufflepuffs."
he scoffed, "don't act like you don't think about shagging those pretty little idiots, hearts so big, yet their brains just oh so tiny."
you continued to scribble on your piece of parchment, not wanting to spare a glance at renjun. if only he knew the things you did to lee donghyuck.
.
you dangled the key's to snape's classroom in front of his face, a wide grin spreading on your lips.
"wha-what if we get caught- snape would kill us if he-"
you shushed him, fingers fidgeting with the rusty key, "good thing snape isn't here then, hm?"
he bit his lip, now silent as he followed you into the empty classroom, a small breeze making him shiver.
"this really isn't a good idea y/n, i should be doing my prefect duties around this time-" he pushed his glasses up before flicking his wrist out to check his watch.
you snorted at his dorky attitude, reaching for his hand to pull him towards a desk, "i have a duty for you mr. prefect-"
you pulled at his tie, loosening the tight accessory, "i have a little issue between my legs-"
you fake pouted, fighting a smile as he nodded dumbly, "and you're the only one that can help me fix it-"
he melted into your grasp, hands gripping the sides of the desk as you palmed him through his pants, "can you help me hyuck? please?"
he gulped, clearly hesitant, but he nodded nonetheless, eager to please you, "o-okay, we just- just need to be quick."
it's not like he didn't want to fuck you, he just didn't think you were actually serious. but now as you shimmied onto the desk, dragging your panties down your legs, he thought that if this was a joke then it was a damn good one.
"donghyuck? are you just gonna stare?" you giggled as he smacked his lips together, mouth dry as his eyes ran down your body, landing straight on your glistening core.
he felt his dick twitch in his pants, hands moving quickly to remove his belt, a new sudden hunger burning in his stomach. "quick- quick- we need to be quick-" he flicked his wrist again, checking the time, "this won't do-" he pulled your hips off the desk, turning you around, ass on full display as he flipped your skirt up.
"now you better be quiet or i swear- oh fuck-" his little speech was cut short as you gripped onto the base of his cock, lining him up against your dripping cunt,
"shut up and fuck me hyuck."
he nodded, more to himself than to you as you turned back around to grip onto the desk, wiggling your ass against his leaky tip,
"shit shit shit-" his whiny voice echoed against the classroom walls as he sank himself into your wet heat, your soft walls squeezing him just right. you felt his head drop against your back, shaky hands gripping at the fabric of your skirt.
"merlin's beard, how are you so tight- ahhh- don't do that!" his grip tightened as you playfully squeezed around him, his hips stuttering against your ass as he bottomed out.
you wanted to be cocky, maybe even give a quick mocking comment, but donghyuck's cock filled you to the brim. your body laid slack against the desk, legs growing weak as he rutted into you, only pressing himself deeper into your sopping cunt. "h-hyuck, move, please."
he nodded, again, more to himself than to you, and began to pull out of you, a loud hissing sound emitting from both of you.
"so, so, so, tight, feels s' good." he slurred his words as he began to slap his hips against your ass, keeping his thrusts shallow to avoid any extra noise echoing throughout the dungeon.
you bit your hand to muffle you moans, back arched against donghyuck's stomach, his arms wrapped around your waist as he fucked into you.
"i can't- can't-" the room filled with donghyuck's babbling, drool spilling from the corners of his mouth onto your dress shirt as he squeezed his eyes shut, focused on the feeling of you sucking him in.
"h-hyuck faster, fast-" his hips picked up in speed, any concern about noise being flung out the window as the loud slapping of you ass against him filled the room.
you gripped onto the desk, the flimsy table shaking and creaking beneath you as donghyuck abused your cunt, thick cock stretching your walls as he pulsed inside of you, "hyuck, hyuck, hyuck, i'm close please- please don't stop."
you slipped your hand in between your legs, fingers rubbing against your sensitive bud. your moans grew louder as he reached for your thigh, pulling your leg up to rest on the table. the new angle made him feel impossibly deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix as he continued to slam his hips against yours,
"cum for me- please- need it so bad- i'm gonna come y/n- please."
you felt your body tense, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth hung open in a silent moan. his knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped your skirt, deep moans leaving his mouth as he filled you with his cum, your cunt gently milking him as you finished around him.
"so good, so so good baby- did so good." his rough hands massaged you hips, his lips planting light kissed to the back of your head.
your leg fell from the table and he leaned against you back, breath heavy as he slipped out of you, his cum dripping slowly onto the stone floor,
"10 points for hufflepuff!" you raised your finger weakly, giving your best dumbledore impression.
"just 10?" your soft giggles filled the room, his body shaking softly against yours, when-
"well snape isn't here is he?"
the chatty voice of your best friend filled the room as he slipped in with a familiar tall muscular bimbo.
"oh my god that's jeno!" donghyuck whispered against your back, his hand coming up to pull you down onto the floor,
"we have to go now! renjun moves quick, lets go- go!" you whisper shouted to hyuck as he crawled behind you towards the exit, not forgetting to pocket your soaked green panties.
who said prefects couldn't have a little fun?
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago
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What a Mess 6
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: thick!Bucky Barnes
Summary: Your new job isn’t all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)
Note: hate me, baby.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You pack away your kit and drag the vacuum to the elevator. You give one last look to the condo then tap the button and wait. You jitter as you stare at the doors, urging on your escape. From this place, from him. 
He didn’t hurt you, did he? He wasn’t cruel but he also didn’t stop. He didn’t ask. He just... did that. But you’re the one who touched him first. But he said yes. That’s the difference, isn’t it? Or did you give him permission by initiating the whole breach of behaviour. 
“Doll,” his hands clamp down on your shoulders and jar you from your anguished trance. You gasp and look over at the metal fingers curling around you. “What’sa matter?” 
You quiver as the elevator doors open. You grip the vacuum tight and try to walk out of his grasp. That’s a foolish thought. He keeps you as you are. 
“You’re in a hurry?” He wonders. 
You gulp and drop your head, the hose quiver in your hand. You wet your dry lips and shudder. You can’t hear over the thumping pulse behind your ears. 
“Hey,” he spins you and the vacuum hose falls from your grasp. You blink up at him, staring at his face if only to avoid another glimpse of his naked form. He cups your head. “Your heart’s about to explode. Why don’t you sit down? You been working hard.” 
You touch the back of his hands as your eyes glaze over, “please...” 
He searches your face, his expression lining with confusion, “what?” 
Your lip trembles and you drop your arms. You can’t fight him. You can feel that same oppression as before. His body over yours, smothering you, suffocating you. This isn’t just a man, this is a super soldier. 
“Are you scared?” He asks. 
You nod without thinking. He retracts his touch and turns away. “I was... nice.” 
You hug yourself as the elevator shuts and descends. Your way out weighs heavily on the wires as it disappears. You dig your nails into your arms. 
“I’m scared too, doll,” he turns back again. You wince and avert your gaze to the wall. “It’s been a long time... long time since anyone... since I let anyone...” He marches toward you and you back up until you hit the doors. 
You watch him in horror as he gets down on his knees. He grabs your wrists and unfolds your arms, clasping them in his and kissing your knuckles. You whimper as he opens your palms to him and brushes them over his thick beard. 
“I need you, doll. You can’t leave me like this,” he begs. 
You don’t know what he wants. You can’t figure why he’s doing this. Why he’s clinging to you like a scared puppy. You didn’t do anything but your job. No, you touched him first. 
“I only wanted to help,” you whisper. 
He kisses your palms and hums, “you did, baby. You did.” 
“Bucky, I have to go,” you quaver. “Home.” 
He hisses and goes silent. He continues to toy with your hands. He guides them to his hair as he shuffles closer on his knees. He grips your hips and pulls you forward. He nuzzles your pelvis with a growl and you squeak. 
“Bucky!” You squeal. 
He purrs and rolls his face against you, his thumbs pushing into your soft flesh. He continues to nuzzle you firmly, rocking his head as he inhales your scent through your jeans. You babble helplessly and push on his shoulders. 
“I can make you feel good, doll,” he looks up at you with beaming blue eyes. “I wanna. So bad.” 
You wriggle but don’t offer much resistance. You feel his strength and your lack of. The doors are shut, in all ways. 
He snakes his hands around to your bottom and suddenly, he stands, lifting you off your feet. You cry out again and latch onto him in fright. He hooks your knees around him and gives a sultry growl over your hair. He carries you away from the elevator. 
You quake against him as you resign yourself to his whims. He takes you around to the front room and sits you on the sofa. You lean back and brace the cushions as he traces along your waist band. He pinches the front and pushes the button of your fly free. 
Paralysed, you watch him, a hollow shell as he pulls down the tab of your zipper. He exhales deeply as he once more feels along the denim and hooks his fingers beneath. He tugs, jerking you, peeling your pants down to your thighs. 
You plant your heads firmly to keep from slipping down as he rolls your jeans past your knees. You shiver as he exposes you to the airy space. His eyes crawl up your legs and frames your waist as he bends over your lap. 
His hand creep down to your shaking thighs and push them apart as he bows further. He breathes into the front of your cotton panties and nips the fabric. He snarls and presses his nose against you, dipping into your slit.  
You squirm as his trails a fingertip along the crease of your leg and tugs aside the cotton. You quiver as he purrs and slides his tongue along your folds. You arch your back, pushing your head into the cushions as you whine. The coolness of his mouth mingles cloyingly with your warmth. 
He flicks up and down as you squeak and twitch, slapping the cushions as your insides writhe uncontrollably at his tending. His finger grazes along your skin and he prods at your entrance, teasing it as his tongue swirls around your clit. You hiss and hum, trying to hold back the moans trapped in your chest. 
You bite your lips as your head lolls and your eyes roll back. Your fear gives way to something more vulnerable, something undeniable. You latch onto his head and arch your feet as the tension winds in your core. 
He’s right. He hasn’t hurt you. If you’re good, then he won’t. If you’re good, it will feel good. Right? 
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zaceouiswriting · 3 days ago
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The Football Stud: Fever
Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Nolan Halloway
Universe: Somewhere in Teen wolf
Warnings: Smut: hardcore, degradation, humiliation, feminization, mentioned non-con
Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload. I was going to post something for Christmas, but that's coming much later. I actually wanted to do something wholesome, but it turned into smut faster than I could see, and I lost interest in it, so I wrote a smutty half request instead. (Please don't ask about the logic; there is none) I hope you guys enjoy this one.
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You felt uncomfortable even though it fit perfectly, and unfortunately, you had to admit that it didn't look bad on you as you admired yourself in the bathroom mirror.
“Are you coming or not?” Gabe’s deep voice bellowed authoritatively through the locker room, easily reaching your ear.
You swallowed nervously, not wanting to answer, as you knew he would be mad if you were honest. But you took a deep breath because you were even more afraid of his reaction if you didn't answer.
"I don't really feel comfortable showing-"
"Shut up and come out," he shouted, audibly annoyed, "so you can do literally the only thing a stupid fag like you is good for!"
It felt like he had just punched you right in the chest. You felt humiliated on so many levels, and yet you opened the bathroom door, which led straight into the changing room near the showers.
You would be in the locker room if you just walked around the corner. It had been nearly an hour since the football game ended, and the coach handed Gabe the keys to lock the room behind him. The only visible light was the static glow of the lamps in the room, as the sun had long since given way to the moon.
Head down, you rounded the corner with tiny steps. You didn't see Gabe right away, but you became very aware of him when you heard him whistle after you. The first time it happened, you felt exhilarated, even ecstatic.
There, Gabe sat comfortably on one of the benches against the wall. His body was now much more muscular, as he trained twice as much as he used to, but on his lips was the same superior, condescending smirk, still the same, yet so different.
"You look so fucking hot," he commented, beckoning you to come closer to him, which you did.
When you were in front of him, he ordered you to twirl. You saw his eyes darken with lust as he took another swig of his beer bottle. Technically, he wasn't old enough to drink yet, but the football team had some leeway, at least on university grounds.
He emptied his bottle, placed it safely under the bench, and then simply grabbed you by the waist and sat you on one of his legs.
“Look at this skirt,” he said, fascinated by the sight.
You had no idea where he got it, but right before the game, he gave you a backpack with a cheerleading uniform and something else you wouldn't even think about out of embarrassment. Still, you put on everything he gave you.
“Are you satisfied?” you asked, stuttering and uncertain.
“You can be fucking sure of that!” he boasted loudly. "And even more so if a certain slut had listened to me the first time and not made me wait so long!"
There was a danger gleaming in his eyes that you knew all too well. He'll punish you, force you to shout more than just his name, and treat you so roughly that you'll miss class again. Before starting, you knew you'd have to lie to the others again about all the bruises you'd come home with. Last time, your fraternity almost started a manhunt because they thought someone was forcing them on you, but you somehow managed to calm them down, even though you had to admit to some pretty dirty secrets of yours.
You felt his rough hand on your lower back, moving further down to your ass. Suddenly, you let out a yelp as the same big hand gave your behind a hearty squeeze.
“What a perky ass,” he mutters in a slightly slurred voice, “fuck!”
"Don't you want to sit on my lap, baby girl?" His lips were so close to your ear that you almost moaned reflexively. "I know a dirty slut like you would love to know how fucking hard you make me."
Before you knew it, he had pulled you onto his lap. Both his hands were on your waist as he vigorously ground your ass on his lap. You could feel his big cock getting hard and poking you through his tight football pants.
When you heard him moan softly, you felt the heat rise to your face; you had never heard him moan desperately like that before. Usually, he moans like a rutting bull as he relentlessly thrusts his cock into you, but this somehow felt much more intimate.
"Do I have to remind you what I am to you?" His voice, which had previously been filled with lust, was suddenly stern, even cold. You swallowed hard and couldn't answer. "Pretend you can't hear me?" His laugh was dry; you already knew he was done.
Without a word, he pushed you off his lap but held you up, standing in front of him. Just a second later, his large body overshadowed you, with his hands tightened around your waist once more.
"What a cute little girl," he murmurs into your hair, "So small and yet so disobedient."
Your blood ran cold. He seemed angry, even furious, but you didn't do anything that bad, right? But even if you argue with him, it won't help and will only worsen things.
He doesn't say another word. Instead, he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts you effortlessly. He carried you to some lockers in the middle of the room, sat you back down on the floor, and bent you forward slightly with his other hand while he told you in a barely whispered voice to hold on to the lockers for dear life.
You were already halfway gone from worry and desire—if you were a girl, you knew you would be soaked—now only pre-cum covered the surprise under your short skirt. You truly felt like a slut in that moment, just like Gabe had always told you. Even though you weren't entirely sure what would happen next, you knew you had to hide how much you were already enjoying it.
He traced his rough fingertips over your figure, dancing on your skin like a drunken wisp. By the time they landed on your skirt and took it in his hands, you felt him shudder. Fearing that something had happened, you turned your head only to see Gabe's sinister grin. When he caught your gaze, his intentions were more than clear.
“Aren’t you a pretty girl?”
There it was again. At first, you thought he was just maddened from drunkenness, but now it was clear. He was actually feminizing you. You should have known when he made you dress in a girl's cheerleading outfit.
As you were in thought, Gabe covered you completely with his body, pressing his head firmly into your nape, gently kissing your neck, and eliciting soft moans from your stunned body. His hands continued to explore the entire time, finding their way under your skirt and gently caressing your legs, but you were sure that this would be the only time he would be tender with you that night.
And as if you had summoned it, he ripped up your skirt and slapped your right butt cheek with so much force that it almost threw you flat against the locker, only for him to whistle as if nothing had happened.
"Bitch, you look good in lace!" Gabe slurred like the drunken stud he is, so needy and horny that it was hard to believe.
You didn't even know where he got it because the price tag was still on when you got it, and you almost fainted; it was so expensive that you knew he wanted to do this more often, or so you thought.
“I really can’t wait,” Gabe suddenly murmured as he leaned back in his standing position.
With a quick movement, he shifted the tiny piece of fabric that hid your hole to the side, circling it with his finger before attempting to enter it, only to be stopped as it had contracted too much. You could hear him swearing quietly, cursing you and your uselessness.
Before you knew it, Gabe had raised two fingers to your mouth and ordered you to wet them, as that was the only lube you would get.
Without hesitation, you took them between your lips, let your tongue dance on his long, salty, calloused fingers, and finally took them completely into your mouth, feeling them touch the back of your throat.
The second his fingers reached the back of your throat, all you heard was him cursing once again, angry that he didn't use your throat, even though he had trained it for so long not to gag, even when he shoved his huge cock all the way into your mouth with one sharp thrust.
You knew from the beginning that it would make him mad because you knew full well that deepthroating him was his favorite sensation, especially in a crowded university lecture hall.
Gabe only gave you about a minute before he pulled his finger out of your mouth and immediately, with a precision that a drunk man like him shouldn't have, slid his fingers inside your ass. You gritted your teeth, holding back the pain, knowing that Gabe hated it when you showed any emotion other than lust and desire for him.
Without even trying, this guy hit the spot that made your mind go blank for a second, and when you came back, you felt a pain in your forehead. You found yourself in direct contact with the metal side of the locker.
As his fingers aggressively penetrated your hole, a pain shot through your ass. But you didn't complain because that was all you would get before he took you at a pace so brutal that you'd thank God he'd even prepared you in any way, which was already something great of him, as it was something he didn't do all the time.
“That should be enough,” Gabe mumbled, something he probably didn’t even want to say out loud.
Suddenly, you feel him swaying from side to side, the alcohol clearly taking its effect. But he doesn't let that distract him and instead guides his cock, albeit with difficulty, to your hole.
Although you feared the brutal treatment you would receive, you could barely contain your anticipation of feeling him again. It had been a while, and your hole felt empty for quite a long time. As he circled your hole, you quickly became impatient. While you subtly tried to get his cock into you, all you got was a hard smack on your ass, which was glowing a bright red color at this point.
Gabe muttered under his breath, cursing you for being an impatient cockslut, a bitch that needed to be filled. Although it seemed odd to you that he was trying to feminize you, it did something deep inside you.
"You want this cock?" he asked smugly, his words becoming more slurred by the second. "I'll fill you up like the good little slut you are until your belly is full of my child!"
Without even waiting for an answer, he pushed his cock in and didn't stop, even when you felt it was getting too tight, but you knew it would fit, even if it hurt a little. So you bit your tongue and waited for the pain to subside instead of saying anything or even making a sound.
In one forceful motion, his hands wrapped painfully tightly around your hips, just under your skirt, so tight that it hurt, but you still didn't make a sound; he penetrated you.
Only when you finally felt his thick glans pressing against your prostate did you open your mouth, which was usually so large when he hadn't had anything to drink. This drew a long, intense moan from you, which, in turn, elicited a deep, sadistic chuckle from Gabe.
“That's the shit,” grunted Gabe, “Moan louder for me, bitch!”
As you felt another slap and his cock throbbing violently inside you, you were forced to give him exactly what he wanted. You gave him more, moaning sluttily and even going an octave higher than you thought possible, sounding almost like a real girl.
"God... fuck," he muttered quietly as his hands became a little more bearable. "That's my little girl, my good little slut!"
He even went so far as to pet your head, almost making you feel like he really cared about you. But the relentless pace of his thrusts told you otherwise. Although you wished things were different, you knew there would be nothing between you, nothing other than mind-blowing sex, that is.
Gabe's thrusts got even harder, his warm manhood burning so well in your hole, but the worst part for you was how precisely he hit your prostate each time. With every thrust deep into your bowels, barely visible on your stomach, he ripped your senses from their sockets again and again. It was almost torture, but you loved every second of it, feeling like you could fly, breathe underwater, and face the next day as if you had conquered it many times before.
At the limit of your senses, you felt one of his hands moving up your stomach to your pectoral muscles. He squeezes your slightly trained muscle, which elicits a satisfied grunt from him.
For a long moment, it was completely silent; nothing was said, and the only sounds echoing through the room were the rapid, rhythmic slapping of your skins and the animalistic noises Gabe made like the brute he was.
“I’m about to bust,” Gabe suddenly announced, although his breathing and voice were even.
You were speechless; he had never come so quickly and calmly, always out of breath, sweating like crazy. Now, he was none of that.
As announced, it took almost no time before a few thick jets of cum filled your insides with much-needed warmth.
Gabe didn't pull out as he usually would. Instead, you saw his hand on the locker wall next to your head as you returned to the plane of the living, his muscular body hard against your back, and his warm breath that smelled of beer and something fruity, maybe strawberries or something similar. Turning your head slightly, you saw him grinning smugly at you; your heart dropped into your skirt.
Suddenly, you felt something soft on your lips. You couldn't process the sight before you; Gabe was so close, his eyes closed and his sinful lips capturing yours in a gentle, warm embrace. It lasted only a fleeting moment, warm and completely unexpected.
“Such a good, pretty girl for daddy.”
Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red. You wanted to mock and belittle him for calling himself that, but you didn't. You felt warm and wanted for once. So you let it pass and looked away in embarrassment, but Gabe, with a gentleness you'd never experienced from him before, placed a finger around your chin and forced your head back without much effort.
"Don't look away, baby," he murmured against your lips before capturing them again.
This time, he didn't close his eyes, instead holding eye contact with a knowing glint in his eyes. But you couldn't hold the eye contact for long. You closed your eyes and melted in his embrace. Your tongues quickly entangled with his, clearly more dominant. He pulled you closer to him, both of his hands exploring the front of your body as if it belonged to him.
It wasn't until he separated the two of you that you realized you were no longer standing but sitting safely on Gabe's lap. He was now leaning comfortably against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, flexing his biceps the entire time, clearly visible even through his football uniform. You'd be lying if you didn't feel things you weren't too proud of.
"Now be a good little slut and ride me," he told you arrogantly. "I've made you cum three times already, and I only came once, so keep going, baby."
He massaged your upper body as if calming you down as he spoke. It worked somewhat, but as you tried to follow his orders, you realized something: your legs hurt too much to move. Panic rose in you, afraid of what would happen if he knew. So you tried your best and even put your hands on his thighs, using them as leverage to move yourself up. But your whole body felt heavy.
Before you knew it, your arms gave way, and you fell against Gabe's chest. You heard his angry breathing and felt his hot breath on your neck.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” you admitted sheepishly.
Suddenly, you felt a violent jolt and quickly found yourself on the cold floor. The skirt you had been given and the tight top were already worn out, even slightly torn, not to mention the lace underwear that was already crumpled and almost destroyed.
Gabe towered over you with his fists clenched. "You worthless bitch," he mutters, seemingly ready to dish out the worst punishment. But to your surprise, he just crouches down next to you. "I told you what will happen if you turn out to be worthless and unable to complete your one fucking job, you stupid whore!"
His voice was steady; none of the slurring you heard before was left as if he had never been drunk. Without hesitation, he spat in your face, stood back up, went to his backpack, and pulled out his phone.
Unable to move, you could only stare at him with wide eyes, horror coursing through your veins as you heard the disgusting words he used.
Just as you started to feel your legs again, the locker room door busted open. Loud laughter and energetic, indistinct conversations followed. The entire football team soon filled the room, but no one was looking at you as they greeted their quarterback. Gabe made pleasant conversation before folding his arms across his chest, not glancing in your direction once, just a small nod in your direction and more demeaning words.
When the team first looked at you, they were smug, calling you a needy slut who would even play a girl just to get some cock. Even though you felt bad, they had a point. But you still thought Gabe would say something in your defense, but he didn't.
Instead, even more horrible words came from him: He told his team that they could do whatever they wanted with you since you were useless to him now, but he wanted the cheerleading uniform and underwear back, even if they were in tatters.
You were too stunned, but when you saw Gabe, already changed and leaving, you stretched out your arm and begged him to take you with him. Instead, you only heard a scoff before he left the room and closed the door behind him.
As you were about to lower your hand, one of the boys took it with a wickedly grim grin. He gently stroked your hand, only to tell you to be a good slut to them because they weren't as generous as Gabe and would take drastic measures to make sure you did right by them.
Although you were disgusted and scared, you still nodded. You cried silently as you felt dozens of hands on you and someone supporting you. But when he was about to enter you, you screamed.
***
You woke up weakened, your body covered in a thick layer of sweat. Groaning in pain, you tried to find out where you were, only to find yourself in your fraternity bedroom.
“Thank God you’re awake,” you heard a gentle voice say.
You turned your head and smiled gently. "Nolan, what happened?"
Concerned, he touched your forehead, only to quickly pull away.
"You're not any better," he whispers lightly. "You fainted in one of your lectures, and our university doctor sent you back with Mark because you weren't so bad that you had to stay there. He did give him some medication for you, though."
You wanted to take the pills, but you couldn't move your body, just like in the locker room. Nolan quickly noticed this, put them in your mouth, and helped you drink some water.
You grimaced as the cold liquid ran down your throat, but then a sigh of relief escaped your lips.
“Did something happen to Gabe or the football team?” you asked in a hoarse voice.
It was immediately obvious that Nolan was uncomfortable. You feared the worst and believed that your dream was actually reality. 
"Gabe came over but left when he heard you were sick," Nolan told you. "I still can't believe you tolerate him taking advantage of you like that."
Smiling and relieved that what you had experienced, even though it felt real, was only a dream, you gently stroked Nolan's hand.
"I wish he loved me as much as I love him, but I'm content with how things are right now," you said slowly, even though your throat hurt. "As long as I'm in this fraternity, I get the best of both worlds: mind-numbing sex with the person I love while also being able to cuddle with you guys and do all the cute couple things without anyone being pressured to feel anything."
Nolan sat there stunned, never having thought about it like you did, but he realized they actually treated you like their partner. All the time outside of class and when you weren't getting fucked by Gabe, they spent with you and your fraternity, cuddling, watching movies, playing games, and going out. None of them even had partners; they were completely focused on you.
You smiled as you slowly fell back asleep but asked Nolan to take care of you. Unconsciously, you laid your head on his hand, causing Nolan to get stuck.
A few hours later, someone else opened your bedroom door.
"Is everything okay?" The new person asked but got no answer. When he walked in, he saw Nolan holding you in his arms. "Damn, I must be late," he commented quietly, chuckling as she walked back out and closed the door behind her. Cursing himself for letting Nolan out of his sight.
[Masterlist]
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bigtreefest · 2 days ago
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New Year Coming In
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Pairing: Boyfriend! Jake Jensen x Girlfriend! Reader
Summary: You and Jake may have signed up for more than you can handle to start off the new year with a bang.
Word count: 1,514
Content/warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, smut, p in v unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), cum eating, kissing, exhausted sex, aftercare, Jake and his glasses and his hair and his beefy body and his everything
A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!! I hope you all enjoy this Jakey crackfic that took over my mind at 2am. Please, feel more than welcome to screech with me about it. And a special little thanks to @brandycranby for a line of dialogue.
Comments, reblogs, and asks are especially appreciated!
Dividers by @strangergraphics
Main Masterlist
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The idea sounded perfect at first. Jake was happy to indulge you. Heck, it felt amazing for him, too. He got to welcome the new year with a good release, pleasing himself and the woman he loves. But oh man, if he didn’t wish he met you sooner before, this was the one thing that would get him pleading for it to be 2001 all over again, even if he had to relive the awkward years to avoid death by dehydration. Never mind how old the two of you were back then, he would’ve time traveled for it to be that year with you now.
A nice year would’ve been 2004, too. Coming four times in one session was something he could do with his eyes closed. Except he hadn’t, his eyes were peeled open, looking at the bright screen, in the times where he remembered being locked in his dark bedroom with his first laptop. Four times, easy. Really, even ten times, 2010. It would’ve had to have been parsed out over the course of the day, but he could’ve done it without complaint. Except, for the year 2025, the two of you had gotten a late start, not realizing how long and how much 25 rounds would take out of you. The agreement being 25 times, for each of you.
Not that he wanted to complain, but Jake Jensen never thought that he would’ve seen the day where he thought it was too much sex. And yet, here he was nearly drained. He laid on his back, cheeks ruddy, glasses crooked, bleached strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. His pupils were dilated in bodily satisfaction, just barely able to focus on you as you bounced on top of him, chasing your 12th simultaneous orgasm.
The sheets had been discarded long ago to the side, leaving you both exposed to the air in the room that was steadily rising in temperature, the sweat on your bodies lingering.
His fingertips dug into your thighs, sore hips sloppily raising to meet yours. Just enough sensation remained in his dick to feel you begin to clench in closeness as you reached down to rub your clit, tipping yourself over the edge with Jake joining you. His eyes squeezed shut and his chest heaved, nothing coming out of him despite the sensation of overstimulation that had overwhelmed him. In fact, he had shot blanks for the last three orgasms, too.
While you both came down from your highs, puffs of humid air filling the narrow space between your mouths as you leaned down to kiss Jake, he looked up at you, his face a mix of pure exhaustion, lined faintly with dopey satisfaction, but also a little worry. He hummed against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours to get just enough leverage to speak.
“Baby, I don’t think I can get to 25. We’re at 12 and my dick is gonna fall off.”
You giggled, pulling away and placing a hand on Jake’s cheek, thumb brushing back and forth.
“Okay, okay. How about this, what if we just make it 25 total?”
Jake furiously nodded his head, grateful for the reprieve. Between the two of you now, you’d reached 24. He could get you to 25. Hopefully. He knew his body was past halfway to limp, sucked dry, but maybe you weren’t as much of a noodle. Maybe you had one more in you.
Just when he thought he could take a breather, though, the both of you looked over your shoulder at the TV that had been softly playing in the background. In the top corner by the year’s newest pop sensation was a countdown clock to the new year. It had just reached under ten minutes.
Your head snapped back forward and your gaze met your boyfriend’s, the both of you panicking with eyes as wide as saucers. You had to make your deadline and time was dwindling quickly! But Jake swiftly jumped into action, tugging your hips in a gesture to pull you up his body. There was no way he had the time to recover and go another round, but this was dire!
“Use my face. USE MY FACE!” he urged you as he frantically pulled his glasses off and set them on the bedside table. You shuffled forward on your knees, his limp dick sliding out of your puffy entrance, filled with multiple rounds of your combined release. You moved so quickly to hover over his head that it didn’t have time to seep out of you before Jake yanked you down to his mouth with a firm grip by his large hands.
In an instant, his tongue was inside you, laving at your still spasming pussy, drinking down your wetness as his nose nudged your clit, coaxing it back to a stage of readiness. In seconds, he had you whining, grinding your hips against his face, begging for more attention on your sensitive nub. Jake could tell exactly what you needed, moving his mouth upwards, goatee lightly scratching your labia as he did so, and latched on to your clit, tongue working in tandem with the suction he was creating.
As if he still weren’t close enough to you, he used his hands to press on your plush thighs, squeezing you closer to him when he sucked harder. A new wave of arousal flowed through you, confirmed by Jake’s satisfied hum that sent a shockwave out from your core and across your limbs.
Your arms flailed, searching for something to hold onto, one reaching the headboard, the other drifting down into his damp locks. As you fisted his hair, you made brief eye contact with him, a smile on his face evident by the creases at the corner of his bright blue eyes when he reached up and tweaked a nipple towards the end of his focus range. Jake could just barely make out the scene above him, squinting slightly, when you fought throwing your head back in pleasure.
You might have felt like ecstasy was about to make your body implode, but you would’ve held on for just how pretty the sight of your boyfriend was, enjoying this moment underneath you, trying to feed your insatiable appetite for him. You were so zoned in to his every feature that he caught you by surprise when he did that thing with his tongue, guaranteed to make you topple over the edge every time.
You barely caught the image of him winking at you in reassurance that he wanted you to let go as you squeezed your eyes shut and your fists clenched hard, the headboard creaking. Jake let out a groan against your pussy that sent another tingle up your spine, causing you to call out, “Ah, Jake!” when you careened over the cliff once more.
Jake broke the suction of his mouth, gently easing you off of him, his strong arms setting you into the mound of sheets that laid at his side. He had regained just enough life in his legs to jet to the bathroom quickly to clean himself up, returning with a warm, damp towel which he used to tenderly wipe between your legs. He discarded it, tossing it into the hamper as fast as he could.
Jake settled back into bed, slipping his glasses back on and looking at the countdown clock on the television which had just dipped below 30 seconds, as he pulled your naked body on top of his, a sleepy smile filling your face, eyes closed peacefully. You hummed contentedly, finding comfort pressed against his beefy torso as his one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other hiking your knee up for you to toss your leg over his slim waist. Your head settled on his shoulder, nearly face-to-face with him, just in time for the final countdown.
Both of your gleaming smiles matched each other when the ball dropped and you lifted yourself up to kiss him, lips dancing slowly, reverently. There was no longer a rush. The two of you could just enjoy each other as you rang in the new year with a definite bang.
As you pulled away, gasping for air, you resettled yourself down with your ear right over Jake’s heart, your hand moving to idly rub over his belly as the two of you watched confetti fall over Times Square on the screen.
“Got any resolutions, babe?” you slurred.
Jake blew out a contemplative breath, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his fingertips teased up and down your arm. He clicked his tongue in thought, “Maybe presenting the suggestion to you that we take the square root of the year and do that many orgasms instead from here on out. That way in 2064, when we’re old and wrinkly, we’ve only gotta do eight. And in 2081, our frail bones can settle for nine.”
You laughed along with his warm chuckle that rumbled his chest and nodded. “Good idea, Jakey.”
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Bonus A/N: My life’s dream is to drain Jake’s body like this. Thank you.
Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63
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shoopsthereitis · 2 days ago
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jegulus | 1k words
lil jegulus I wrote for a secret santa for a dear friend. sirius finding out about jegulus at hogwarts
“James, no,” Regulus insists, pressing a hand to James’ chest in the corridor.
“Come on, Reg, please? No one’s around. It’s late, and I haven’t seen you in days.” James knows he’s being reckless, but he can’t help it. He didn’t mean to run into Regulus, but when he spotted him during his Prefect rounds, he couldn’t resist catching up, feeling drawn to him like a magnet. He’s missed him more than he probably should admit—more than what’s acceptable for two people who’ve been secretly dating for four months.
It all started by accident. A few months ago, James found himself in the library needing to study, but it was surprisingly crowded for a Thursday. He wandered around, searching for a place to sit, and the only available seat was at a table with Regulus. Reluctantly, Regulus let him join, and by the end of the night, James was completely smitten. After that, hallway run-ins where James would change course just to walk Regulus to class, and Quidditch changing room chats became weekly occurrences, and it all fell together naturally. Neither of them had expected to fall for the other, so they’ve been taking it slow. 
Now, four months later, they’re still together, and James couldn’t be happier. But with how protective Sirius is of his brother, Regulus has insisted they keep the whole thing a secret. James gets it, but part of him hates lying to his best friend. He’s been trying to convince Regulus that they should tell him now that they’re serious. Thankfully, Regulus is warming to the idea.
“We could go back to my dorm? I think Remus, Sirius, and Pete are at the library,” James offers.
“After the other day when I was trapped in your room under the invisibility cloak, I don’t want to take any chances. I missed Potions because of that, and Sirius nearly caught us.” 
“But he didn’t,” James grins. Regulus rolls his eyes, the way James loves because he only does it when he has no snarky comment to say back.
“Anyone could find us here, we’re not exactly hidden.” Regulus’ body betrays his words when he steps closer to James, his hands reaching out for his robes. James instinctively brings him in, pulling their bodies flush. 
Running a hand through the soft strands of Regulus’ curls, he tips his head back, their eyes meeting. “Regulus,” James starts, feeling completely lost in his storm grey eyes, “I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”
There’s a war going on behind Regulus’ eyes, weighing his options, debating the risks. Ultimately, he gives in, sending James a small nod before leaning up. The moment their lips touch, the rest of the world falls away. There’s only thoughts of RegulusRegulusRegulus.
This is what always happens with the two of them. They get utterly sucked into each other’s orbit, and are unable to notice anything else. Even the other day in James’ dorm, they were much too close to getting caught, not realising the door had clicked open until they heard Sirius and Peter’s voices. Regulus practically rolled off the bed, and James had to cough and stomp his foot to cover the thud of Regulus’ body hitting  the floor as he covered himself with the cloak.
“James, I missed you,” Regulus whispers against his lips, and it makes James' heart sing. It always takes a few minutes for Regulus’ walls to come down, but when they do, when he gets soft and open with how he feels—there’s nothing like it.
Heart fluttering from Regulus’ words and his body lit up from Regulus’ touch, James stops worrying about where they are. Unfortunately, he probably should start paying more attention.
“What in Merlin’s name is this?”
They pull apart, James whirling around to find Sirius. His arms are crossed, a scowl on his face, and he looks pissed. James has half a mind to run, but that thought fades when he turns and sees Regulus, whose expression mirrors Sirius'—scowl and everything.
“What does it look like, Sirius? I’m kissing James,” Regulus says dryly. 
“I can see that, Regulus. What I’m confused about is why it doesn’t look to me like a first kiss,” Sirius responds. 
James’ palms start to sweat. If there’s one place you don’t want to be, it’s in the middle of a fight between the Black Brothers. “Sirius, we were going to tell you—”
“Tell me what? That you’ve been kissing my brother? Cus it sure doesn’t seem like you were going to tell me.”
“I—we—the thing is—” James is floundering. He knows it, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
“We’ve been seeing each other for four months. We weren’t going to tell you unless it became something worth telling. Which it has, so surprise! James and I are dating.”
Heart flooding with warmth, James can’t help but look at Regulus, likely with a dopey look on his face. Regulus’ lips twitch quickly when his eyes shift sidelong to James.
“Please don’t be mad, Sirius. I really like him. I wanted to tell you, I swear—”
“Prongs, relax.” Sirius’ expression softens into a small smile as he steps forward, placing his hands on James’ shoulders. “I’ve had a hunch about you two for a while. The way you look at each other? It’s not hard to figure out. Also, you’re not as sneaky as you think. I knew Regulus was in the dorm the other day, why do you think I droned on about nothing for an hour?” Sirius grins. “Honestly, I’m ecstatic. My best friend and my brother? How could it get better? Just don’t hurt each other, and I’m all for it.”
Shocked, James looks back at Regulus before his head turns towards Sirius, a wide smile on his face. 
“You’re really fine with this?” Regulus asks.
“I’m fine with it. I’d just prefer not to see it. And don’t ever lie to me again, James.”
James smiles. “Wouldn’t think of it.How did you even end up over here, anyway? This isn’t on the way back to the dorm.”
Sirius pulls the map from his pocket, waving it in the air. “Next time you try to hide something from me, maybe don’t forget we have a map that shows us where everyone in the castle is.” His lips curl into a mischievous smirk and James laughs.
“You have a map that shows you where everyone is in the castle?” Regulus blurts out in disbelief.
Whipping their heads toward him, Sirius and James share a sidelong glance.
“Shit,” they say in unison.
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lilstrawberryangel · 8 months ago
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outlying-hyppocrate · 7 months ago
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in line to the bathroom just to cry!!
#random thoughts#gender dysphoria.#felt it especially this morning when some lady from this organization that worked with our school called me christine.#CHRISTINE.#do i honestly look like a christine??#(not her fault but still.)#but she kept fucking misgendering me. i bet it was the shirt i was wearing.#normally i wear more layers so as to make my body less. shaped.#BUT I RAN OUT OF NICE ONES AND SO I HAD TO WEAR ANOTHER.#it used to be my favorite shirt but now it is not. i hate it.#either it is too small for me or i am too large for it. and either way i want to fucking stab myself because of it#augh. wanted to cry earlier. but didn't.#still sort of do when i think about it. i get misgendered often but. augh.#and the comment my mother made a while ago. about. how can i be a boy if all my friends are girls?#WELL SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU HAVE NOT MET HALF THE BOYS IN MY SCHOOL. FUCKING IDIOT DUMBASS. HAVE YOU NO COMMON SENSE#TO KNOW THAT TIMES ARE CHANGING AND WE ARE NOT STUCK IN YOUR WARPED PERCEPTION OF GENDER NORMS?? HELLO??#i hate my body so much unironically. if i could fix it somehow.#i have been trying to fix it so hard for so long but it hasn't fucking worked and it's gone in the OPPOSITE WAY. and i am RUINING MY BODY.#AND I FUCKING HATE IT.#sometimes it feels as if nothing is good. i want to shave my head again and be perpertually ugly.#i need new hair.#i need to fix everything.#please.#i have no motivation to do it but i need to do it.#i know i'm a boy. i just want to be a boy for everyone else.
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queerbauten · 2 years ago
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in what universe is Sam Smith "fat". like. when was that something that We™ apparently decided they were.
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princessmyriad · 14 days ago
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#personal#hot take we all know teenagerdom is a lived liminal experience right. im gonna come out and say it#newborn babies is the most liminal lived state followed by pregnancy#because during pregnancy from conception to birth (obviously assuming a wanted and saught after pregnancy) youre just. waiting for the thing#you can induce early or you can have csection or whatever but baby will come on babys time for the most part#so youre just waiting. while your body feeds this thing long enough to get borned. liminal here meaning primarily transitional#rather than empty or spooky.#and newborns? i already know im gonna get angry comments here like 'ooh my newborn totally has a personality ohh she loves it when i...'#shut it. im not calling children blank slates of nothingness please zoom out and get a little of my perspective here#cosmically speaking you are a newborn for like. 2ish months? three? even that feels like it would be a different state than 'newborn'#that term to me feels like it should encompass all of a month at max but whatever. newborns are.. born and theyre this ready made vessel#thats expected to become a person one day but at this stage its empty. it cant even hold its own head.#teenagers are teens for a whole deacde and arguably each 2-3 year period is transitional in a slightly different way than the last#but newborn babies are only that way for barely 3 months. then they become regular babies and in turn become toddlers and on and on#idk it just feels like maybe its not classified as a liminal stage because either we rarely remember anything that young or maybe because of#the parents im sure will come for me that insist their beloved child is more than just a human shaped thing with nothing yet inside#idk. im thinking about this because christmas is liminal. to me. and i think i thought about that because obviously the time between xmas#and newyear where the world seems to shut down. thats liminal too. but the events itself is to me. dont get me wrong i love it#but its the one day a year where a lot of people get to see their families and their childhood homes and and and#idk ive been having this lil rant to myself for an hour now almost i wanted to put some thoughts out. i fucking love liminality though#liminal#i hope i can do liminality justice in fictional text form. im going to to my best at it for sure
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months ago
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Sharing a bed with kny men
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Pairings: Yoriichi x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 5,7k (lmao)
Warnings: injury in Yoriichi's part, smut in Sanemi's part so read if you're 18+, this is a long ass fic y'all, not proofread
This is actually my first time posting Sanemi smut and I'm super scared. Let me know what you think 🥹🤍
Also, do you want me to do other characters too?🫶
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Yoriichi
I heard you @laurencrsnt 🫶
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All your life, you never even thought about the possibility that maybe, you’ll encounter a demon someday. Why you, out of all people? Why especially you?
Even now with its cold eyes glaring down at you and your shoulder ripped open by its claws, you fail to find an answer for that. Is it your fate to die right here, when you only went out at night in order to buy medicine for your little sister who has fever? Is dying the cruelest death really your destiny when you wish for nothing more than growing old and watching your own children live their lives?
It’s unfair.
You shouldn’t lay here, crumpled onto the still wet street. You shouldn’t feel the sensation of your eyes watering, your hands trembling, your heart racing.
This shouldn’t be your last day walking on this earth. You didn’t even have the chance to find the man of your dreams yet…
It’s ridiculous and you know it, that spark of determination that rushes through your bones. All of the sudden you spring back onto your feet and start running. Out of the city, away from the lit streets straight into the dark woods.
Even if you have to die here, you won’t give up this easily. You won’t allow this demon to end your life without putting up a fight.
“Why do you girls always think you can run away, huh? It’s too easy to sweep you off your feet”, the demon behind you comments dryly.
With a swift motion of his hand, it digs open your tender flesh all over again, sends your violent scream echoing through the lonely forest. You fall to the ground like a bag of rice, your torn leg now refusing its service completely.
“Let me go!”, you shriek in horror.
No, you don’t want to die here, you just want to go back to bed and forget about this.
But the forest ground isn’t your bed and the demon in front of you who’s ready to slice through your throat isn’t only a nightmare.
Your heart sinks to the floor, body suddenly feeling numb and lifeless. You will die here.
“I’ll keep you in good memory. Well, at least for tonight”, the demon jeers at you.
You close your eyes, desperately try to imagine your little sister. She’ll find herself a loving husband and her very own family without any doubt. Even without you around, her life will turn out alright. Even without you around, life goes on. You don’t have to feel sad or guilty, you just have to let go…
“Get away from that woman.”
A low male voice, so charismatic that you think you might dream. He sure must be handsome. Men with voices like that always have a matching face.
A slicing blade, a dull thud. But no claws that dig into your flesh one last time, no bow of relief that you’ve been awaiting for quite some time by now. Your eyelids start shivering. When is this finally over?
“Are you alright? Please allow me to help you up.”
The second something touches your skin, your eyes snap open in an instant. But they aren’t greeted by those venomous red orbs from earlier. No, these ones are soft but strong and have that calming fuchsia color. This isn’t a demon.
This is a man.
“Don’t be afraid. The demon is gone”, he continues speaking with his low voice.
You have no control over your own body and shivering limbs. It’s impossible for you to say a single word. Are you really out of danger? Is it really over?
When he pulls you off the ground, a violent scream escapes your lips. No, you don’t want to die, you don’t want your life to end tonight. Not like this, not without saying goodbye.
“Please calm down, everything is alright now”, the stranger tries to reassure you, but his words don’t even reach your ringing ears.
You gasp for air like a fish on land, forehead now covered in ice cold sweat. This can’t be your end.
If Yoriichi doesn’t act now, you might faint due to your stress. But what is he supposed to do? You don’t seem to listen to his words and touching you might only make it worse. Maybe you need, assurance?
“I won’t hurt you, see? My hands have no intention of doing you any harm.”
Gently, he glides his fingertips up and down your uninjured harm. Despite the look of horror on your face and your gaping wounds, you do have a lovely face and truly remarkable eyes.
“I came here to help you”, he continues until his fingertips finally brush over your tear-soaked face.
What is this feeling of warmth deep inside his chest? You aren’t the first woman he saved from the claws of a demon.
“I would like to accompany you on your way back home-“
“No”, you suddenly blurt out.
Even though lying in bed on your own was all you were able to think about just a few moments ago, the thought feels like a threat now. What if another demon follows you back home? What if your little sister gets attacked because of your foolishness? No, you simply can’t go back now. But on the other hand…Just the thought of sleeping alone here in the woods runs shivers down your spine.
“I…I’ll find a place to stay. Otherwise…they might harm my sister…”, you mutter.
“Allow me to escort you to my estate, then.”
You yank your head to the side in sheer disbelief, eyes searching for a spark of humor in his calming orbs. Is he really serious about that? After all, you’re a stranger. He doesn’t even know your name. Now that you think of it…who is this?
“How can I know for sure that you aren’t a demon yourself?”
“Take my hand”, he instructs you gently.
Is this really a good idea? You take a deep breath in, try to calm down your pounding heart. What do you have to lose?
When your shaky fingers wrap themselves around his much larger hand, you get ingulfed by warmth. His palms feel rough but also comforting against your bruised skin.
“Demons are cold since they are dead”, he explains briefly.
“But I am not. I am a demon slayer. It is my only destiny to safe innocent souls from their death.”
Oh. Your gaze drifts towards a katana that hangs dangles from his belt. No, demon don’t find with those weapons. So, are those words really true?
“You…You want to help me?”
“I’d love to help you if you allow me to.”
What has gotten into him? Did he really offer you to hold his hand, let alone to sleep at his house so you don’t have to fear the night on your own? Never in his life, Yoriichi allowed himself to develop feelings apart from empathy for those around him.
But those eyes. Those eyes of yours really captivate him, devour him fully. How is he supposed to leave you out here, soaked in your own blood with bruises all over your body?
“You…really would?”
Is this really okay? When you were a child, your mother told you over and over that you aren’t allowed to talk to strangers, let alone man.
But…does that also include the handsome, charismatic and armored ones?
“I keep my word. Also, your wounds need care as well. Please, allow me to help you.”
What do you have to lose.
“If that’s the case, I’d love to take your offer”, you reply shyly.
“I’m glad to hear that. I will show you the way-“
A loud groan escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. His charismatic eyes almost made you forget about the gaping wound the monster from before inflicted on you.
Almost.
“You shouldn’t move your leg with a wound like that. I will carry you to my estate.”
“You will…carry me?”, you mutter with widened eyes.
But just when you try to take a step forward, his words become painfully clear. No, there really is no way you’ll be able to walk anywhere with that leg. But allowing him to carry you?
“I might be a little heavy.”
“Let me assure you, you aren’t heavy at all.”
“Fine…”, you grumble.
“But only a few meters.”
Gently, he stranger wraps his arms around your shoulder and knees before he starts walking.
He smells good. Like a field of flowers on a sunny day. And the way his heart beats against your cheek reminds you that you’re still alive, that you survived somehow.
This man saved you.
“I didn’t even thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. This is the least I can do for you after I almost came too late.”
He stares blankly at the blood that still drips from your leg. Just a few seconds later and that demon would have killed you with him simply watching. Why? Why is he not able to save them all, why is he still not good enough to stop this madness?
“Don’t tense up, don’t think anything less of yourself because I was injured. I was a fool for leaving the house this late at night on my own.”
Despite the fact that cold sweat still runs down your forehead and even though your fingertips still shake in shock, you cup his cheek and force his troubled eyes to look at you.
“I am beyond thankful for my rescue. The worst thing about dying today would have been leaving my little sister behind. But you saved me. And not only that, you even offered me a safe place to stay for the night. I really don’t know if…If I’d be able to sleep on my own tonight…”
The stranger doesn’t say a word, his eyes roaming around your face without a real aim.
“Oh, I didn’t even ask. What’s your name?”
“My name is not important-“
“I’m (y/n)”, you introduce yourself friendly.
“My…my name is Yoriichi”, the man carrying you mumbles.
Yoriichi. An unusual name that you’ve never heard before.
“That name suits you well.”
“We’ll arrive soon. I hope you don’t expect a big mansion since I am living in a rather small cottage-“
“I’m living in a tiny barrack in the city. A house in the woods sounds like a dream”, you mutter.
The second you open your eyes again, you find yourself in a wooden cabin with a plain futon lying on the floor and an improvised kitchen in the back of the house. Nothing special, very fitting for the man who gently lowers you onto the futon.
“I will take care of your wounds now”, he announces before taking off his haori and katana.
Without his threatful weapon dangling from his belt, he looks like a normal man.
If it wasn’t for those captivating eyes. He has to be the most breathtaking man you’ve ever seen.
“Fortunately, the cut on your leg isn’t deep. I’ll disinfect the wound and bandage it”, he explains briefly before his skilled hands spring into action.
“You really are good at everything”, you comment.
He’s so gentle that even the alcohol that disinfects your wound doesn’t seem to burn. Why have you never stumbled across him? You were so sure that you know each and every man around that it almost drove you insane. But him? He’s different from all the others. He’s truly special.
“You will have to take your kimono off. I need access to the wound on your shoulder.”
Oh.
“Y-yeah, sure…”
Hesitantly, you pull the blood-soaked fabric down your shoulder so that only your chest is still covered. Yoriichi’s eyes seem to gleam in the moonlight like liquid metal.
“You look lovely”, he flusters into the night.
He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. Is it the alcohol rising up his nose, the smell of blood that radiates from your bruised body that makes him say those strange things?
No. It has to be because of those eyes of yours. Those eyes that captivated him from the moment he first saw them.
"Thank you," you stammer, your cheeks flushing as you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"You too," you add quickly, immediately regretting your awkward response.
Both you and Yoriichi swallow hard, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changing.
“I am finished. You should rest for tonight. After all, this was a draining fight for you”, he mutters while getting up.
You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heart still hammering so roughly against your ribcage that you’re almost sure he’s able to hear it. What was this tension?
“But…this is your futon-“
“You are my guest. Of course, I will sleep on the floor on the other side of the room.”
Oh. A wave of disappointment rushes over you before you’re able to stop it. What were you expecting, secretly hoping? That this man will share a bed with you?
Honestly, yes.
“You…you really don’t have to…”
Oh, how much Yoriichi wished he wouldn’t have to.
“I insist on taking the floor.”
“I actually want you to sleep by my side. Please.”
The begging tone in your voice stops him mid-track.
“This night was…horrible. A little company would definitely help, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all”, he replies a little too hasty.
“I just don’t want to invade your personal space. After all, I’m a stranger.”
“A really kind stranger”, you add shyly.
Are you acting out of line? You shouldn’t push him to sleep next to you when his offer to let you sleep here is already generous enough, right?
“Forget my question, I was acting out of line-“
“No, not at all. I would love sleeping besides you.”
He crosses the room in an instant and kneels down next to you.
“But let me know whenever I become too much.”
What a ridiculous thought. Why would he ever become too much? Him, your savior, that remarkable man.
You scoot over until your back is pressed against the cool wall, eyes still fixated on his gleaming eyes. Will you really be able to sleep tonight when this is the first time ever a man lies beside you?
And what a handsome one on top.
“You should try to sleep now. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here”, he reassures you.
That is the least he can do after failing to protect you in the first place.
“Again, thank you for all of this. I definitely own you a favor”, you mumble.
Suddenly your lids start to get heavy, your mind slows down bit by bit. Maybe this rough night really took its toll on you. Is It the safety he radiates, his calming smell? In the matter of seconds, only your low and even breath is heard.
Finally, Yoriichi is able to allow himself a closer look at you. You look so peaceful and innocent with a face so remarkably beautiful that he can’t stop staring. You have to be the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. A man like him really doesn’t deserve lying next to a woman like you. Maybe he should give you space, leave you now that you fell asleep-
With a quiet groan, you draw closer to him in your sleep until your head rests on top of his chest and with your arms wrapped around his upper body.
He doesn’t dare to move an inch, eyes widen in utter surprise. Is this…cuddling? His mind races back and forth, eyes resting on your calm features. What is he supposed to do now?
Hesitantly, he allows his hand to rest on your back. What an unknown sensation, all those feelings that rise up his chest right where your hand rests.
For the first time since forever, he is the one who feels safe.   
He is the one who feels loved.
He is the one who feels warm.
And you? You cuddle yourself against him until the sun rises all over again.
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Sanemi Shinazugawa
This one's for you @muichirolover14 🤍
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“This is bullshit”, the man walking next to you mumbles under his breath.
“Keep focused. It was Kagaya-sama’s personal wish that the two of us go on this mission together”, you mumble with a fake smile decorating your bright red lips.
And that’s the only reason why you agreed in the first place. Why else would you pretend to be Sanemi Shinazugawa’s personal concubine if it wasn’t for Kagaya-sama and this undercover mission?
The plan is pretty simple. Countless people, including other demon slayers, lost their lives in this little innocent village that becomes a red-light district at night. Nobody knows why or who is responsible for this.
One of the upper moons, maybe.
It just made sense to dress you up as a concubine. After all, you are the light hashira, a mighty swordswoman and probably the most talented out of Mitsuri and Shinobu when it comes to acting.
And then there’s him. You glance at Sanemi’s annoyed face from the side. Why on earth did Kagaya-sama choose him? What about Rengoku, Giyu, Obanai, Tengen, Gyomei? Aren’t they a way better fit?
You sign to yourself.
Truth is, they aren’t. While Rengoku, Obanai, Tengen and Gyomei would stand out immediately, Giyu would never be able to sell you as his concubine. No, no one except the wind hashira is able to make this look natural.
No one but him looks this good in a dark green kimono.
What?
“Stop staring at me like that, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
“I was just hoping you might disappear if I stare long enough, idiot”, you bite back in frustration.
Why does he always have to be so mean, though? You really tried to get along with him countless times, put on the most precious smile whenever you talked to him and made sure to always bring him ohagi whenever you had the chance to. But Sanemi Shinazugawa never stopped hating you. And eventually, a part of you started to dislike him as well. That one part though…
You allow your eyes a minor glimpse at his barely exposed chest. That tiny part deep within your head is somehow still drawn to him. And you hate it.
“Aren’t concubines supposed to shut up?”
“Watch your mouth or I’ll leave immediately.”
“Both of us know you wouldn’t do that.”
You let out your shaky breath, your hand crushing his while you wear the same friendly smile as before.
“Don’t mess with me, Shinazugawa”, you speak out with low voice.
His face tenses up ever so slightly, hand fighting for freedom out of your merciless grasp.
“You’ll regret talking to me like that when we’re alone, brat.”
-at the estate-
“I’d like to show you to my newest possession. Please introduce yourself”, Sanemi speaks out.
Like Amane-sama showed you, you bow in front of the man that looks you up and down with his filthy eyes.
“My name is Kiyomi”, you introduce yourself oh so sweetly.
“That name really suits you. What a beauty you are. I’m sure I’d find a lot of paying customers for you here”, the disgusting man purrs and stretches out his hand in order to touch your face.
“Don’t touch the goods”, Sanemi barks at him immediately before slapping his dirty hand away.
Who does this guy think he is, trying to touch you so casually? No. That jerk isn’t allowed to caress your face. The plain thought of men like him getting to put their hands on you…
Sanemi’s guts turn.
“Aren’t you here to sell her and yourself for the night? If that’s the case, she won’t be your good anymore for the next few hours but mine.”
He smiles at you through rotten teeth, his breath almost forcing you to choke. You are only here to detect the demon who is responsible for the countless deaths in this area. You don’t have to touch any of these men. None of them will touch you.
What about Sanemi, though? An uneasy feeling rises up your chest when your eye catches a group of women who stare him up and down with lust in their eyes. Will he allow himself a taste before continuing with this mission? Will he find a woman he is attracted to? All of them look flawless, too good to even consider the service of a paid men. But if that man looks like Sanemi…
“You will find your room to the right. This is where the female customers choose their good. After paying, you belong to them”, the man explains briefly while showing both of you around.
“Why would these women pay for the services of a man? This is a noble region that is well-inhabited by countless men”, you blurt out.
“It’s not about them being men. It’s about looks. Only the fine-looking men even get the chance to work here for the night”, he explains briefly.
Fine-looking man, huh? Well, there is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi suits that description way too good. With his firm muscles highlighted by scars from countless battles, he looks like a walking god. Let alone his perfect face, his eyes that now look soft and seducing without being irritated constantly. His white hair that frames his features perfectly.
“As for the women, we look for a broad variety of bodies, looks and personalities. You are very easy on the eye and mysterious. I’m sure countless customers will fall for that.”
“And what…what services do they expect?”
The man in front of you bursts out in hysteric laughter, you can feel Sanemi’s eyes piercing through your skull.
“What they expect? Intercourse and everything that revolves around it, of course! Do you think they pay you for some cuddles and nice words?”
You swallow hard. There is no need to do that, right? You’ll somehow shrug them off and investigate this place at night. Maybe you’ll find the demon right away and-
“Now, you are a fine-looking man. Who is this?”, a woman suddenly purrs out of the shadows.
“A new worker for the night”, the disgusting man explains with a dirty smile.
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll definitely make a reservation.”
“It would be an honor, my lady”, suddenly replies in the same cheeky tone
Your guts turn in an instant, eyes narrowing slightly as you watch how a smile forms itself on Sanemi’s usual resting lips.
“What a gentleman he is. I cannot wait to meet you.”
“The honor is on my side, my lady.”
And then he steps in front of her. Elegantly, he grabs the hand she already holds out and kisses her knuckles. Your heartrate quickens, the warm flush that starts creeping up your face barely covered by your makeup.
Fucking asshole. So he’s acting like a jerk towards you all this time while treating other women like this? You hate the knot that forms itself in your throat, the disgusting feeling of disappointment that rushes over you.
Does he really hate you this much?
“Well, I think I should introduce myself to the customers as well. Have a pleasant night, Sir”, your monotone voice speaks out on its own.
With one last bow towards him, you follow the man into the women’s corridor without even gifting him a single look. Sanemi can’t help but furrow his eyebrows at your sudden reaction. Did you really want to get rid of him so badly? Maybe you’ll actually meet up with some of those guys and…
“Are you interested-“
“I will meet up with you later this evening, my lady. Please excuse me.”
Without another look or word, he storms into his assigned room and closes the door behind him.
Sanemi’s mind starts going insane. What if you actually like one of those guys? Or what if one of them hurts you, tries to force you into something you don’t want? He heard the worst stuff about places like this.
Fuck, he shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Why you? This mission is way too dangerous for someone like you, for someone this gorgeous-
“I’m losing my fucking mind”, he mutters through gritted teeth.
“I can’t do this”, you breathe out in sheer panic while lying in bed.
No, just the thought of Sanemi having the fun of his life with that girl from earlier feels like ripping your beating heart out of your chest. Will he really share a bed with them?
If it’s for the mission, he definitely would. Nothing is greater than his urge to kill demons, especially when it comes to an upper ranked one. That little sacrifice wouldn’t stop him.
And it breaks your dumb heart.
A hard knock on the door rips you out of your running thoughts. Is this your first customer? All color drains from your face, eyes widen in horror with every bow against the wooden door.
“Just a moment”, your shaky voice shouts.
You…Do you have to look presentable? You have to think about the things you can tell him. Maybe you don’t even have to sleep with him, maybe this will distract you from the things Sanemi is probably doing right now.
You open the door.
And stare straight into the furious eyes of Sanemi Shinazugawa.
Before you’re even able to react, he pushes himself into your room and closes the door behind him before yanking you against the wall.
“What did you do?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.
Your heart starts hammering roughly against your ribcage. Him? Here?
“What the hell are you doing he-“
“Answer my question right now!”, he barks into your face.
“I didn’t do anything!”, you shriek.
“What the hell has gotten into you!?”
“Has somebody touched you?”
His rough hands start running up and down your neck, yank the sleeves of your kimono upwards in a haste.
“What?”, you breathe out.
What the hell is going on? Just when you managed to pull your arm away from him, he grabs your wrist again with his face only inches away from yours.
“Did somebody touch you?”, he screams into your face.
“No!”, you cry back.
“But why would you even care? It looked like you had plenty of fun!”
He shakes his head while looking at you in utter surprise and confusion.
“What non-sense are you talking now-“
“Did you sleep with that woman from earlier when I was gone?”
God, you hate the way your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, you hate the way your eyes fill with hot tears. He came here to confront you with all those accusations while he was out there having the time of his life, while all you were able to think about is him?
“No, I didn’t sleep with anyone!”
“Stop lying to me!”
“You’re the only one I want!”, he suddenly blurts out breathlessly.
“What?”, you utter in hushed panic.
This has to be a cruel joke, an unforgiving way to stop you from doing anything. Sanemi Shinazugawa, wanting you?
“Since I first saw you with your fucking perfect face and so melodic voice, I can’t think about anything else! You, sleeping with some random guy while I’m just a few doors away. I can’t take it!”
He grabs your head with both hands, eyes staring at you so intensely that you feel like collapsing any minute. If that’s really true, if that’s really how he feels…
“But…I want you too”, you squirm.
“I always wanted you, Sanemi.”
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His lips crash against yours with so much power that you almost fall over. Suddenly his hands are all over your body, tongue unforgiving as he discovers your mouth with a passion you’ve never felt before. You allow your very own hands to finally discover the deep valleys of his muscular back, to let your hasty fingertips wander over his tight chest.
It becomes unbearable. Everything starts to become unbearable. That minor gap between your bodies, the clothes that still deny you full access to his naked skin, the feeling of not having enough.
“I need more”, you whimper against his lips, not even knowing what exactly you’re asking about.
Sanemi lifts you up with ease, not even breaking the kiss when he pushes you onto the bed with his massive body lingering on top of you.
You feel like suffocating in the most exquisite way.
“I’ll give you whatever you want”, he breathes against your lips that now find your neck.
A whimper escapes your mouth before you can stop his, body rearing up underneath him.
“S-Sanemi!”
“Fuck”, he hisses before his dark eyes meet you again in distress.
“Tell me you want this.”
“I…what?”
You can’t produce a single logical sound, head still spinning from the unknown sensation that starts building up inside your stomach. Is this what desire feels like?
“Tell me you want this too. Tell me you want me.”
“I wanted you all this time”, you reply without thinking twice.
With a swift motion, you find yourself engulfed by his arms with his lips caressing yours all over again. Like in trance, you begin opening his kimono, expose his bare skin to your merciless eyes.
“You look so shamelessly good”, you whimper.
Oh, how often you pondered about how his chest feels like, if his scars are soft or as rough as his walls.
“Can I…?”
His hands grab the ends of your kimono, eyes staring down at you flustered. Is that blush creeping up his cheeks?
“It’s just…You know…I’ve never done this before…”, you stammer.
“Do I look like I did, idiot?”, he mutters while gently taking off your kimono until you lay underneath him.
Completely naked.
“I mean, yes…”
“No, I didn’t”, he barks.
“I guess I waited for someone special…”
“I did as well”, you reply in an instant.
Is this real or are you dreaming? Sanemi Shinazugawa laying on top of you fully nude. Sanemi Shinazugawa stating that he likes you. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s hand that start moving downwards…
Until he reaches between your legs and simply takes your breath away.
“Are you okay?”, he mutters, eyes filled with worry.
You nod absently, eyes rolling back into your skull. God, this feels like heaven. When a groan escapes his lips, you completely lose yourself. Out of instinct, you grab his neck and yank him even closer towards you, your hot breath clashing against his face.
“Sanemi!”
His name sounds like a prayer coming from your mouth, forces his fingers to move even faster. Is this good? Is he doing everything alright? Your whimpers grow louder and louder, nails digging into his now oversensitive skin with so much pressure that it threatens to burst. You look so gorgeous with your eyes pressed shut, your delicate mouth forming an “o”.
And then you burst right underneath him, scream his name over and over again with your legs shaking. He can’t wait no longer, can’t contain himself another second.
“I need you”, he mutters.
“Please, let me have you.”
“Yes”, you breathe out, mind still spinning when the firework that just exploded in your lower body slowly starts wearing off.
Until you feel him all over again. But this time, not his fingers. Your glossy eyes widen in utter surprise when he carefully stretches you out and disappears inside of you, hands holding onto him for dear life.
“Are you okay?”, he whimpers.
“Please…give me…more…”
He almost loses his mind, the new sensation almost eating him up alive. Countless nights, he dreamed about what it might be like to have you, what it would feel like. But the reality is so much better than any dream.
Sanemi picks up his pace and grabs your waist passionately in order to keep you in place. Over and over, again and again your sticky skin collides with his until he threatens to burst.
“You’re mine”, he presses out through gritted teeth while pounding into you.
“I’m all yours, Sanemi!”, you cry out, nails now leaving marks on his skin.
“I need…ah! I need you! Please!”
He knows exactly what you’re asking for. One last time, he picks up the pace while holding onto you for dear life.
Until finally, you scream his name. Finally, he’s able to let it all go.
“(y/n)!”
He collapses on top of you, his weight leaving you dizzy and unable to move. None of you dares to make a move, the only thing that’s filling the room being your shaky and sharp breaths.
“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally mutters, his hand caressing your cheek oh so gently.
“I love you too-“
“Mission report, mission report! Kagaya-sama requires a mission re- AH!”
“Get out of here right now!”, Sanemi barks at the crow that casually entered the room.
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?”
“Get out!”, Sanemi screams on top of his lungs before yanking up and hunting the crow butt-naked through the room
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
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fukashiin · 7 months ago
Text
attractive things they do #2 !
— w. housewardens
⤷ "yuutapdatass tweeted: malleus pls stop dming me to rub our feet together as a nightly custom"
cw: hinted suggestive content for malleus, vil and leona. passive reader! enjoy ♡
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RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
shushing others so you can focus.
pens and textbooks alike cluster along your designated study table, accompanied by the riddle rosehearts as his knee brushes against yours wordlessly. he's utilising this free period, toiling out and about to aid you in your, regretfully, pointless revision. finals season starts to get rigid around this time, so he's more than content to lend a hand if you're willing to put in the effort. except—the students abounded at the table diagonal to yours start getting chattier than what's socially allowed in the library, so riddle calls them out without a pain. one "they're trying to focus." and their mouths are zipped. he turns back to you, unperturbed, and smiles. "shall we continue?"
SO patient with you it makes you cry.
riddle may be a bomb of ire waiting to burst at any given moment, but you believe that his patience shouldn't go uncredited. a tireless awardee, a distinguished laureate, going sleepy in your eyes, although he's wrestling to win over the urge just so you can get the hand of the concept he's cramming into your head last-minute. the scent of white petunias could really alleviate his fatigue, and you make a promise to bring over a few of those in favour for his devoutness to your study sessions. for the time being, he'll make sure you pass, for him, and for yourself.
vows that he'll outdo your stupid ex in every way.
whatever your ex did wrong, riddle will do better. that's just in his nature. he swears with each and every fibre of his body, nuzzling his head in the dip of your shoulder, that he'll love you in ways that your morose ex never bothered to think about. a muttered pledge that couldn't compare to the pious burn that lit in his eyes, like a withstanding candle refusing to go out. his confessions are firm, where he'll be the betterment that you wished for on an astral night, so please, don't put him in your doubt.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
pressing you against the nearest wall he spots to kiss you.
there are numerous attributes to this man that renders you hopelessly drunk in love. one of them is his maddening habit of pressing you flushed against the nearest surface in his sight, and the most poorly lit areas when you're in stranded in a public space to guise the both of you. he executes this with the softest hint of care, ensuring that the landing wasn't too harsh, and advancing when given the green light. wispy strands of hair stroke your skin like a feather, as fine lips come crashing down to yours in a heartbeat, in paradise. he gives you a sheer once-over, bringing up the following statement: "grab onto my vest if you need to."
breathes the confidence into you.
downgrading oneself may be in his dictionary, but it won't appear in yours. he'll clasp any opportunity to brandish his infamous eye-roll to those whose comments about you stray a bit too loud. you may be a bit thrown off by the audacity and aimlessly think about the ways of which you could live up to his—your standards. you take a bit to reorient yourself when you hear your name being called out, sluggish hands circling your waist, as you're unable to finish your thought about how beautiful he is until he asks whether you're actually sparing a single thought for those nobodies. he casually states that you're leagues better than them, whether you think so or not, and won't mind giving you a physical demonstration if you can't bring yourself to accept it yet, because he knows it.
just knows what you want without you having to tell him.
eyeing an accoutrement that could accent your main outfit? longing for a new stand-alone book after the last one you buried yourself in was a letdown? leona has the prices covered. despite your incessant denial, that you don't actually need those, he tells you that a little spending wouldn't hurt. he doesn't need verbal expression to know what'll satisfy you, the flit of your gaze is the only opening he requires. you're embarrassed by how easily you're read, but the hearty smile that blooms on your face will be all the excuses leona needs to keep spoiling you.
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
drapes his coat over your legs if you're cold.
sometimes, you swear that he has the whole "affection capability" of a wooden plank. his actions aren't entirely faultless, nor was there not a single second of err in the delivery of his speeches, but he does haul around that handy coat solely for moments like these. perched wordlessly on top of mostro lounge's signature high stools, azul rebukes your rash behaviour after spurting out in the rain without an umbrella, clothes weatherworn and all—not to mention the lounge's benevolent addition of its AC. the chills rack your body from head to toe, not noticing that a fuzzy warmth starts to blanket your legs, as azul pats it down creaseless. he says that you can pay him in return at a later date, your declining health is his utmost priority at the moment.
sets you straight when you need it.
his prized coin collection seems to blur boorishly, bleeding into the soft jazz playing in the back. the thirsting need to word-vomit all over the place, thanks to the hours of ennui you've been experiencing ever since you've trudged yourself back to azul's room, threatens to tip over the edge. he notes your irresolute responses to his (nearly) bombarding questions while he's planted over at his desk, and takes the initiative to make you open up to him. he wants you to look at him, commit his words to memory, as he caresses your shoulder under the twinkling lavender glow of his night lamp with a sure look in his eyes, guaranteeing that you're going to do fine.
has a secret album dedicated to pictures of you in his gallery.
azul tries to get accustomed to the revolutionising tricks of technology just for you. fine, if he has to pass through every single hyperlink and learn unfamiliar terms, that's on him. other than owning a booming magicam account promoting #mostrolounge, he saves a single, peculiar file in his gallery that hoards all the pictures he's taken of you when you're together, on a date or not. he can't tell if your lovely visage is the sole cause to the rapid change of pace in his heart when he's dealing with a mounting workload, but if you ever drag yourself down after taking a quick glance at them, he'll bring you right back up.
KALIM-AL-ASIM
clears the hair out of your face when its windy.
you may be a tad bit hesitant to ride the magic carpet every once in a while, but kalim's sparkling serendipity puts your heart at ease. he takes you for a midnight rendezvous, golden embroidery flashing and sheening at every twist and turn you direct with the tassels with aplomb—as he compliments. his headpieces jangle merrily like a thousand bells in the breeze, up until he notices your sight being blocked by the troublesome hair whirling all over the place. chuckle as he may, he shifts it to the side of your face with a deft hand, tracing the last strands down to your chin. "there. seeing better now?"
interlaces your hand with his in your sleep. (the physical touch GOAT)
wrinkled bedsheets rustle under the weight of your movements, coarse, and even a bit sullen as the morning ooze of sunlight drenches through your curtains, as if it prohibits you to sleep in the entire day. kalim's newfound ailment forces the two of you to be separated indefinitely, so colour yourself surprised when you feel the taut clutch of your hand in another, holding onto the remaining pieces of you that he needily ached for all night. sun-kissed fingers wove between yours like silken ribbons, his eyes pleading for you to stay, as a minute—a moment without you in his world—would be infallible torture.
purchases a piece of the moon for you.
you know those moneyed, wealthy fans who purchase a piece of the moon for their favourite idol? kalim gets influenced, and is driven by his conviction that you deserve something more extravagant than rowdy parades or a hallowed mansion (regardless of how many he wishes to buy). he takes it upon himself to surf across Lunar Registry, registering your full name and gifting its stated amount for approximately...5000 sq ft of land of the celestial body that hung high in the sky, radiating its extraterrestrial luminance on your nights of sobriety. you chide him for such an impulsive act in return, but soften up when he states, upright, that he would gift you all the stars in space if he could.
VIL SCHOENHEIT
brings you to touch him himself.
no use if you're cowardly in the bold language of physical touch, vil will simply make you oblige into feeling him, whether its physically or through minds. oftentimes you find yourself hastily straddled on his lap, him decked in his satin-sewn pajamas, as you prod and poke his hands nervously while scrutinizing every area of skin that screamed of his unyielding years of care. there's a teasing lilt that lurks behind his voice, questioning if you're seriously taking your time trying to figure him out where you're aware that he's less than patient. he seizes your hand in his grip, and leads them to his chest—shamelessly. if he needs to remind you of who you're with every day, he'll be more than committed to reel you closer to his body.
demands full eye contact.
tsking and huffing is, an unsurprisingly normal habit for him to adapt. and this includes moments of when you're shying away from him, heaving under your tense breath about how unfairly attractive he is. slick in his latest outfit tailored specifically according to his calibrated measurements. high stilettos bests your height, and he almost seems disappointed in the lack of praise he's receiving (although he knows exactly why). you feel a manicured finger tilt your chin upwards, as your teetering praises come to an abrupt halt. he smiles, demanding you to look him in the eyes throughout every second you're worshipping him.
tells you to ready yourself before he showers you in his love.
vil wants you to experience each and every slide of his nails against your feverish skin, whispering pure promises and cherishing you, affirming that you're worth much more to him than a million grand. if you ever throw yourself below the bar lower than necessary, he waves your deplorable behaviour away, and asks if you truly believe that you're tumbling down that route of thinking when you're with him. vying arms enclose your figure like a velvet blanket, surrendering your chapped lips a centimetre away from his, as his refined scent tickles your nose until he advises you to prepare yourself to revel in his untiring devotion. all your worthwhile priorities were put on hold until further notice.
IDIA SHROUD
leaning back in his chair after finishing a game.
you arose from your sleep, previously dozing off while perusing written tales of the past propped up on idia's bed. the culprit of your awakening is off cheering in the same vicinity after speed running a round and emerging victorious, unmanned, of the latest version of a first-person shooter game he recently installed on his computer. he starts to recline in his chair as it creaks off his weight, arms slackened behind his head and his sweater gliding off of his stomach, exposing the barest bit of delicate skin that indulges you to run your hands across. he emits the heaviest of sighs while he runs a sore hand through his hair, as the disorientation of your mind starts to scatter all over the place.
"i thought it'd cost more."
Idia Shroud will not have you get scammed by lowly, needling scammers surfacing online websites like newborn piranhas. his head begins to split when you spout about the official item being too pricey and that you won't be able to milk a single penny out of your derelict dorm, so he insists that he pays for the item for you himself. you send him a link of the mentioned item, and he felt like he was dragging himself through wet cement throughout the whole mire. he remains indifferent to the price overall, and goes "oh? i thought it'd cost more." with a brazen smirk etched on his face that it almost gave you a whiplash.
discreetly orders things to your front door.
quivering lips settle atop of your shoulder for the last time before he sends you back from his room after the intimate amour that had you two wondrously occupied for the entire day. you pilfer a single gummy worm from his desk, and cloak yourself further into his jacket that intoxicates every one of your senses as you streel into the night air that reeked of petrichor. your steps begin to feel like bricks, whilst your eyes were betraying your wish to stay alert. as you approach the front door welcoming you to your dorm, you gauge the sight of a small box placed on the carpet with a small note plastered on it that follows the lines of "for you, pretty thing."
MALLEUS DRACONIA
cushioning your head with his hand.
bony fingers sail through the pleasance of your hair, twirling each and every tendril that it meets and bringing them to his defined, pillowy lips. amusement cracks through the ominosity that sits in his eyes, shielded by his bangs as he beams a smile your way before grasping your shoulders in a split second. he pushes you down onto the mattress with a thud, cushioning your head with a single hand, and tells you to save your yelps and complaints before he endows you with the ability to sing for him all night. he reassures you that he does in fact, know how to secure the deadbolt on the door.
doesn't bother with any potential contenders whatsoever.
malleus but it's "okay, and?" personified. yes, he's heard of the towering sovereign in the neighbouring country who was recently appointed. yes, he's heard of the lucrative salesman nearby situated in town whose attention you captured after visiting his booth. yes, he's heard of Leona Kingscholar. but he could not give Two (2) flying tamagotchis about whoever has been swaying your way, tossing cheap and low-grade courtship in an attempt to earn your affection. he notes that he does have some cheesy pick-up lines of his own to use, but unlike the others, he knows you inside and out. he has no use for the mainstream ways of love and is eager to please you to his own liking, further revealing the unparalleled reverence he maintains for you and only you.
brushes his fingers over your collarbone.
once you step across the threshold of his bathroom, adorned in his nightwear, malleus can't help but dim the lights with the flick of his finger after catching the sight of your collarbone that peaks out from underneath. he's in front of you the moment you blink, and hums in response to your addled self. he brings his ice-tipped fingers to your neck, padding it with caution, and sliding them down to the V-shaped collar that hides the rest of your warmth. stark fingers ghost over the structure of your collarbone, and malleus asks whether you think the gibbous moon will be kind enough as to not set so early.
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vampiefemme · 10 months ago
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so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?
18+ below! smut smut smut!
ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.
it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?
the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.
but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?
all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.
it’s a video.
you sent her a video.
she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.
“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”
holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.
you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”
and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.
and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.
as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.
“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”
ellie. ellie ellie ellie.
“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.
when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.
“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.
when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.
and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.
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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago
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More roomate!au thoughts because, again, my brain never stops. When you move in with them, dont expect to be able to do anything by yourself ever again (unless its housework and their away), your car needs fuel? Dont worry Simon will go with you and fill it up for you and dont even think about trying to pay for it yourself, you tried once and Simon just glared at you so you tucked your card back into your purse. You need to go get a few supplies for college, Price and Gaz are joining you and giving their opinions about the best laptop to get or the best stationary (they fill out enough paperwork that they know the best ones). You're cooking them dinner, Johnnys right by your side following your every order and helping to wash up while you go relax on the sofa waiting for whatevers in the oven. And you will want for nothing, you see a pair of shoes you want while out shopping but their outside of your price range, they arrive at your door a week later just after the boys deploy, you see a pretty necklace on TV and comment on it, Johnnys there behind you fastening it just before your next night out. You lament that your mattess and bed are uncomfortable, a new one arrives the next and it just so happens to be big enough to fit all 5 of you on it.
Yeah, the boys would 1000% give you princess treatment
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My mind is still on that drabble so i absolutely love this so so so very much god yes….
Original post
It doesn’t end there, of course. God, they do so, so much for you.
It’s Simon who stands right outside the bathroom door when you get sick late at night, trying to be quiet and not bother anyone yet when you tell him he should go to sleep, you’ll be fine, he doesn’t even let you finish your sentence.
“Don’t need sleep,” he grunts, pulling you against his body. Despite your protests, his warmth alone makes you melt. “Jus’ tell me what you need.”
It’s Gaz who gifts you with a surprise spa day kit after he notices how exhausted you look during your exams, gently pushing aside your laptop. “You look knackered, lovie,” he murmurs. “Let me take care of you, alright? You always spoil us when we return anyways, this the least we can do.”
It’s Johnny who immediately knows your day has been shit just from listening the way you shuffle in, shoulders slumped and head downcast.
“Someone steal yer sunshine, hen?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it, Johnny,” you mumble tiredly, yet you have no energy to refuse when he leads you to the couch. “Bad day. I’ll just go to my room-“
“Nah, none o’ that,” he shakes his head, taking your bag. “Sit down, aye? I’ll fix you up something warm.” Though he makes sure to drap a blanket over yours shoulders before he goes into the kitchen, muttering about food.
It’s Price who goes hand in hand with your safety. All of them do make you feel safe but John is just- a bit different.
Once, you were being followed after you finished shopping and like an idiot, you’d forgotten your usual pepper spray you carried. You knew you were being followed because you could feel the eyes constantly on you and you circled the same area several times. Your hands are shaking when you text him, praying to every god-
- john
- Yes, love?
You are too afraid to even crack a smile at his serious punctuation.
- someones following me idk what to d
You don’t wait for him to reply. Just nervously, with too many typos, you tell him where you are and if please can he come or any of the men-
When John appears by your side in no less than five minutes, he just pulls you close to his side.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He ushers you along. “Bloke’s been dealt with. Give me your backs, yeah? Next time tell me or any of the muppets to join you.”
Too late you notice the blood splatters on his knuckles.
Also, remember when I said the original ad had been because they wanted someone to keep the place tidy when they are away? That doesn’t apply when they are home. If they see you cleaning or cooking, they are helping- nu uh, no complaints allowed, they are not about to let you slave away when you have four very capable men at your beck and call.
Hell, once it was Johnny who saw you scrubbing the kitchen floors and he just picked you up and placed you on the counter, tsking at you.
In a few hours, John returned to find all of them cleaning the kitchen; Soap was now dusting, Gaz vaccuming, and Simon wiping the counters.
And you were bundled in the couch corner, cozy and cute.
“What’s all this?” He asked, an eyebrow raised, and you shrug.
“She was tryin’ to clean.” Johnny grumbled from the corner.
“And you didn’t stop her sooner?”
“Bloody stubborn bird,” Ghost was the one who replied this time, not even looking up.
You opened your mouth to argue, but the look John fixed you with made you shut your mouth with a click.
“Good girl.”
The warmth on your cheeks was definitely not from overworking, at least.
You mention needing new clothes? You wake up to Simon’s credit card on your nightstand with a note ordering you to use it. “Strangely”, you can’t find neither your own card nor your wallet.
You also can’t find him, but Kyle’s there and oh wow! He has nothing to do so he will in fact be joining you (and making you model the dresses and outfits and send pictures to the others so you can be drowned in compliments)!
Also i like to hc that john(s) are both huge coffee lovers and they do in fact have those huge, fancy coffee machines yk? They are insulted when they see you drink the cheap, shitty, tasteless instant coffee you are surviving on and from then on, you will wake up every day to warm, fresh coffee made for you <33
Anyways gods i love them sm can you tell 😩😩
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incognit0slut · 1 year ago
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A SPECIAL SHOW
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Part 3 of kinktober | main masterlist
virgin!spencer x fem!reader; Lingerie, Exhibitionist/voyeur, overstimulation, squirting
No one would’ve guessed you liked to touch yourself in front of billions of people online, except for your roommate, who you thought would be a great addition to your next late-night session.
Words: 6,213
a/n: my kinktober is running late. Oopsss
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THERE WAS SOMETHING EXHILARATING ABOUT BEING WATCHED. You reveled in the sensation of being the center of attention. You weren't sure how it started, nor when it started, all you knew was that every Friday night you were always seated—or sometimes laid—in front of your computer. Webcam on, chatroom on, and most importantly, your alter ego was on.
Princess_Pink is online.
It wasn't the most creative name, but it was your initial thought when you made your account. You had always taken a certain liking for the color pink. As for princess... well, there was nothing else to it, you just liked being called that.
Princess.no1.fan: i've been waiting for you!! Adam_4432: hey princess Keaton-bigdick: ready to jerk off to you baby Hardcock69: turn on your cam!
If you told your younger self that you'd be touching yourself in front of horny strangers online, you would've scoffed in disgust. Your past innocent self would definitely look down on your choices, which honestly, something you once had questioned too at one point. But the amount of money increasing in your bank account always stops you from doubting yourself.
It was partly the reason why you were still doing this. Your nine-to-five job wasn't going to cut out the expenses you needed, providing yourself in other ways was the only option. The reason was, yes, you needed the money, that was true. But deep down you were aware of how much you actually enjoyed doing this. If you once thought that these men watching you were disgusting, horny people, then maybe you were just as disgusting as they were.
And somehow you were okay with that.
Horny_BBC: turn your fucking cam on you slut JadenCums: don't talk to her like that JadenCums: she's not going to give us anything if we don't behave Princess.no1.fan: princess pretty please show us your sexy body
You turned your camera on. There it was, your reflection on the screen. Your baby pink lingerie, a silky second skin, clung to every curve, accentuating the elegant contours of your body with its deep neckline plunging gracefully. Your hair cascaded in loose waves, catching the soft lights in your bedroom, and illuminating your smooth skin. A coy, knowing smile played on your lips, revealing a self-assured confidence that was impossible to ignore.
"Hello, boys," you greeted, your voice deep and sultry. "Did you miss me?"
A chorus of replies filled the chatroom and you smiled. You loved the attention they gave you. It was something you never gained in your normal, mundane daily life, and you actually didn't mind it. You liked being the invisible quiet girl sitting at her own desk, minding her own business. But now you were exactly the opposite of that girl and you thrived on the desires that lingered in those who watched you.
But there was still some privacy that you needed to keep because honestly, you didn't want your coworker to know this secret life of yours. You used to wear a fancy mask that looked like it came out from a masquerade ball, but with how technology has developed, you now opted to use a filter that animated your features. It was perfect.
"I had a very rough week," you continued, playing with your hair. "But now that everyone is here..." You leaned forward, showing the soft curves of your cleavage. "...I feel so much better."
Adam_4432: fucking hot Keaton-bigdick: love the dress Keaton-bigdick: love it better on the floor
You giggled. "Patience, boys. You know how this goes. We play a little game along the way." You ran a hand through your hair. "So what game do you think we should play?"
Your eyes traveled along the comments. "Twister? How are we supposed to play that? Oh—Strip poker? That does sound good—wait! Yes! We should do a classic." A smile curled on your lips. "Truth or dare."
Fatcock_777: ok truth or dare princess?
You rolled your eyes. "Truth, duh. We're starting this slow."
You scanned through the comments and picked a question that seemed easy for you to answer.
Pussylicker: have you ever masturbated in public
"I have masturbated in public," you responded, biting your bottom lip teasingly as you looked straight into the camera. "I once touched myself at work because... well, I was desperate. Locked myself inside the bathroom and fucked myself with my fingers, it was so hard keeping quiet."
You then laughed at yourself. "Alright, next question. I'm still choosing truth, by the way."
JadenCums: will you ever bring a guest here? JadenCums: would love to see you getting fucked
This time you wiped your tongue along your lip. The mere thought of having someone else please you who was not yourself, right in front of these strangers online, aroused you in a way you never thought possible. You clenched your thighs together as you imagined yourself in front of the camera while somebody else was here to touch you, to tease you—to fuck you.
"Bringing somebody else here? Sounds amazing, to be honest," you answered. "But you see, I don't think I know anyone willing to do what I do—"
Bang! Clink. Clink.
You stopped yourself and frowned. A sudden sound vibrated through your room, a jarring clash of clanging and clattering emanated from what seemed to be the kitchen. Your eyes darted toward the noise, curiosity, and concern merging on your face as you attempted to discern its source.
Another clatter followed through, louder than before.
"Wait a minute, boys," you mindlessly said to your audience, your eyes still narrowing on your bedroom door. "I'll be right back."
You quickly turned off your camera and muted your microphone, ignoring the protests thrown in the chat, and rose from your bed. With measured steps, you left the sanctity of your room and ventured into the adjacent kitchen. Your steps halted right at the moment you found your roommate stooping down to retrieve a fallen pan. The metallic clang resonated briefly, then subsided, replaced by the soft rustling of clothes and the muted glow of ambient lighting.
"Spencer?" You called out softly, your voice carrying a note of concern.
He straightened up, holding the pan in his hand. His response was apologetic, a musing note in his voice, "Sorry if I woke you. I couldn't sleep, and I thought drinking something warm could help me relax."
Your eyes wandered to the carton of milk that sat on the counter. "So you decided to make warm milk?"
"Apparently we ran out of tea..."
His voice trailed off as he looked up from the fallen pan, and as he met your gaze, time seemed to slow. His apology hung in the air, a mere whisper, as his eyes found your figure in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. The lingerie you wore, delicate and pretty, cast your curves in a subtle, alluring way.
There was one word to describe your roommate. Cute. He was really cute. If he wasn't so oblivious to your little, innocent crush, you'd already be worshiping the ground he walked on. Maybe you should've told him how you found his habit of dumping facts endearing, but then again, you felt as if he had been avoiding you ever since he found out about your late-night rendezvous with your computer.
Keeping it a secret from your friends, family, and colleagues was easy, you didn't see them often. But keeping it a secret from Spencer, your roommate who you see every day, who bluntly asked why you were whining every Friday night at the exact same time, was hard.
Surprisingly, you thought you'd be appalled by telling him the truth, but something about him made you spill out what you had been doing behind your bedroom door. He seemed like the type of person who never judged, and he obviously didn't when you told him you were doing it for the money. But even though he accepted your secret without pressing any further, you realized, he had been avoiding you ever since.
For a heartbeat, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator. Then he finally tore his gaze away, clearing his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's Friday, huh?"
You stepped closer, your bare feet making a soft padding sound on the kitchen floor. "Yeah."
"Well, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Don't mind me."
You couldn't help but study him with a sense of quiet fascination. There was something utterly captivating about the way he appeared in this unguarded moment, and you couldn't resist your curiosity as you observed his relaxed, almost nonchalant demeanor.
Your eyes trailed over him. The lower half of his body was swathed in loose-fitting pajama pants, their fabric patterned with a subdued design. The shirt he wore was equally unpretentious, and its well-worn, soft texture cradled his upper body loosely. His hair seized your attention next. It was disheveled and slightly tousled, its tips barely touching his shoulders.
Yet, it was his hands that captivated you the most. His hands were notably broad, his fingers long and deft. The veins that traced along the back of his hands were what had you staring further, and as you caught the way they flexed whenever he moved between the narrowed space, you wondered what it would feel like to have them on you.
And now the question from earlier kept on repeating in your head. Will you ever bring a guest here? If you had to choose someone else to please you, your answer would definitely be him.
"Hey, Spence?" He looked at you, and under the intense scrutiny of his gaze, your nerves tightened their grip on you. You quickly shook your head. "Never mind."
"No—wait. What is it?"
"It's nothing, just forget it."
He took a step forward, closing the gap between you. "Tell me what you were about to say."
It was now or never, at least, that was what you kept convincing yourself. You then braced for the question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue. "How do you feel about joining me?"
You noticed the frown forming on his face. "Joining you?"
"Yes, for my stream." The baffled look he gave you made you explain yourself further. "You don't have to be naked! And if you must know, I use this cute filter to hide my face in a way, but if you don't like that, you can be completely anonymous. I'll make sure your face is out of the frame."
You wanted to kick yourself. The silence that came after your proposition was gnawing at you, almost as if it was mocking your brassness. This was Spencer Reid, the hot-shot FBI agent you lived with who had been avoiding you for the exact reason, and you were now inviting him to join you? What on earth were you thinking?
"See? This is stupid. Forget I said anything—"
"What do I have to do? If... if I don't have to be naked."
You blinked, caught by surprise for a moment, and then your lips curved into a coy smile. He was interested.
"You can play with me."
You took a step forward.
"Touch me."
You took satisfaction in the way his eyes lowered down your body.
"Please me." Your eyes bore into him, liking the way they turned a shade darker as he kept staring at your cleavage. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to sleep after this."
His eyes swept along the expansion of your neck before they met your gaze. "Just... touch you? That's it?"
"That's it," you confirmed. You wanted to ease the tension, so you joked  with a playful grin, "I'll split the money with you from this stream."
Spencer softly chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No, keep it. People pay to watch you, not me."
"So is that a yes?"
He exhaled a deep breath. "...yeah?"
It was really happening. Before he could regret his decision, you quickly reached for his hand and guided him to your room. He followed you quietly, and when you pulled him in, his eyes swept across your personal space, taking in the predominant color palette of pink that seemed to envelop the space with a cozy, feminine charm.
The heart of your room was undoubtedly your computer setup, strategically placed directly in front of your bed. There was a small camera perched on top of the screen and a professional mic placed to the side, and to be completely honest, the sight of everything was starting to intimidate him.
"I need to tell you something," he softly began. "This is my first time doing this."
You gently squeezed his hand. "I'd be surprised if you've ever done this before. You're not even on social media."
"No, I mean—" He turned you around to face him. "I've never touched someone... intimately."
"Really?" Your eyes shot up as you noticed the way he emphasized the word. "Wait, Spencer... are you a virgin?"
There was a pause as he searched your eyes hesitantly. "Does it make me weird if I told you I am?"
Somehow that didn't surprise you, since you never actually saw him taking an interest in relationships, so your response was swift. "No. You're always weird regardless," you quipped, dissipating the tension with a teasing grin. "I'm kidding."
He smiled, although his question still lingered in the air, and he shifted the focus back to you again. "Do you still want me here?"
"I should be asking you that question, silly. Are you fine with all this?"
To your surprise, his response was affirmative. "Surprisingly, yes, I am."
"Then there's nothing to worry about."
He still looked nervous though, and without putting much thought into it, you closed the distance and stood on your tiptoes. Your hands softly held his jaw, and the moment you pressed your lips onto his, a sound of satisfaction erupted from his chest.
You sighed in contentment as you felt his hands sliding around your waist, holding you closer as you moved your lips against his. The kiss was slow and lazy, yet the sensation of it traveled along your body, leaving you almost breathless as you felt his tongue teasing your entrance. A moan slipped out of you as you buried your hands in his hair, tugging onto the strands desperately as your tongues collided with one another in a delicate trance.
Your lips on his were hot, soft, settling, and wet, pulling onto each other for more and when you finally stopped, his eyes were closed, heavily exhaling, his hair ruffled, and he looked like the prettiest mess ever.
"W- What was that for?" He whispered, still in his dazed state.
"Setting the mood." You slowly pulled away and walked over to your bed, sitting at the edge of it, positioning yourself back in front of your computer. "For someone who has never had sex, you sure know how to kiss."
He collected himself and looked at you as if you had offended him. "I've kissed other people before."
"I can tell." You then narrowed your eyes at him. "Alright, you ready?"
"I..." He took a tentative step forward. "I think so."
With practiced efficiency, you started up the stream again. The moment you turned on your microphone and camera, almost immediately, comments began flooding in. The chat scrolled rapidly. You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicked to the monitor.
"Hey, everyone, sorry for leaving you so suddenly. But I guess this is your lucky day... because I have someone joining me tonight!" A chorus of excited responses flooded the chatroom and you giggled at the enthusiasm they were giving you. "Oh my, didn't know you guys really wanted a guest over here."
Pussylicker: fuck yeah Princess.no1.fan: don't know if I should be excited or jealous Adam_4432: gonna fuck my cock watching you Fatcock_777 sent a $100 gift
Easy money, you thought to yourself, and by the way Spencer's eyes went wide, he also caught the amount of money sent to you when you were barely doing anything. "They give you that much for saying that?"
You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "Spe—" You stopped as his name almost slipped out your mouth. You cleared your throat and quickly corrected yourself. "Babe, they can hear you."
The pale complexion of his skin accentuated the subtle blush that tinged his cheeks, a result of either your affectionate tone or his embarrassment over his unfamiliarity with the situation. "Oh." He stared at your computer screen with uncertainty, his gaze filled with hesitation. "Right."
You urged him to come closer with your hand. "Come here, pretty boy."
He cast a fleeting glance in your direction, prompting an eye-roll as you observed his clumsy approach towards you. You eyed the camera and addressed your audience, "He's a little shy, please be nice to him."
As soon as he entered the camera frame, the comments section buzzed with curiosity. Many viewers wondered about the identity of this mysterious man, who happened to appear just as someone questioned a potential guest on the stream. Most of the other comments were positive, stating how excited they were, but a few of them disturbed you when they mentioned Spencer's physical appearance and how 'this fucking twig' didn't deserve to touch you.
You quickly guided your mouse to block them.
"I told you to be nice," you emphasized, your voice carrying a subtle edge. "I don't tolerate any form of harassment."
Spencer, seemingly oblivious, frowned at you. "What did you do?"
"Kicking disrespectful people out," you answered for him. Then, directing your attention towards him, you rose from your bed and gestured to the empty space. "Sit here."
He followed your instructions, settling onto the soft mattress as you adjusted your camera at a lower angle, making sure his face remained hidden from view. When you were satisfied, you instructed him to scoot back, which he happily obliged, because how couldn't he? He was captivated by what was happening.
Spencer never thought he would have his lower half on display—albeit still fully clothed—in front of thousands of people online. Yet here he was, sitting right in front of a camera, watching you as you slipped your knee between his thighs, urging him to part his legs. Nervous energy pulsed through him as he found himself in such close proximity to you, especially when you started to kneel right between him, clutching his shoulders as you steadied yourself.
"Someone dared me to show my cute panties," you mused, and even when you were addressing yourself to the stream, your eyes were locked with his. "Help me show them, babe."
His heart quickened as he looked up at you. "W-what do I do?"
You smiled at him and leaned down, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, making sure he was the only one to hear you as you whispered, "Play with my ass, Spencer."
His breathing became shallow and erratic. He slowly reached out and put his wide hands on your hips before sliding them along your ass cheeks. He gently kneaded them, squeezing them with the utmost delicacy as if he was holding himself back.
Spencer had always been a gentle person, it was a fundamental aspect of his character, something he had known from the depths of his being. You liked that about him, it differentiated him from all the men you had ever been with. But right now you needed him to touch you with the same urgency you craved. You needed him to let go.
"You can do better than that, pretty boy," you pressed on, brushing your lips along his jawline. "Show the audience what they want."
Something in him switched at that moment. Maybe it was the way you were kissing down his neck. Or maybe it was the way you were pressed against him. Whatever it was, he suddenly felt less inclined to be gentle and, instead, he gripped onto your cheeks with more power. He squeezed them, holding your flesh with so much vigor that you had to hold onto him, burying your face in his neck.
He glanced past your shoulder and caught your reflection. He couldn't believe those were his hands on the screen; touching you, teasing you, pleasing you. You were definitely pleased with the way you kept on squirming against him. It mesmerized him how much you were responding to his simple touch, and now when he knew he could make you sigh in pleasure, he wondered how much more you could react the more he touched you.
Spencer pressed his hands at the back of your thighs before trailing them up your legs. He paused for a moment, hearing the way your breath quickened with anticipation, and smiled to himself when you let out a whimper as he squeezed your flesh again. The hem of your lingerie rode up your hips every time he moved, and your laced panties, with their fabric barely covering your already wet sex, were on display for the audience to see.
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He cocked an eyebrow, fascinated by how showing a little skin could earn you money. Curiosity took over him, and he let his fingers trail between your flesh before spreading them apart, showing off your wet patch to the camera. You arched your back, pressing your lips into his neck again as your arousal shot through your veins before it pooled right in your center.
Princess.no1.fan sent you a $100 gift
Interesting, Spencer thought, and slipped his fingers between the soft material of your panties before sliding it to the side, exposing your wet skin. His eyes shot up when someone gifted you another hundred dollars, and without much thinking, he brushed the pad of his fingers along your folds, loving the way you whined out a desperate moan right into his ear.
"You're doing great, baby," you told him breathlessly. Hearing your encouragement only made him want to please you even more. He let his middle finger glide along your dripping pussy, mesmerized at how wet you were, and braved himself as he slowly pushed his finger inside you.
He couldn't stop the sound of pleasure erupting from his chest when you squeezed around him. You were so wet, so warm, so incredibly tight. He thrust his finger in and out of you and you mewled, arching your back, grinding your hips toward his touch. And just as you were about to relish the sensation, he abruptly pulled his finger out of you and held you by the hips, gently pushing you off of him.
"Somebody dared you to turn around," he said, licking his lips as his eyes trailed along the front of your body, stopping right at your cleavage.
You smiled, amused that he was actually reading along the comments while touching you. Without saying a word, you got off the bed, your back still facing the camera. Your hands gently slid up your lingerie and you tugged on your panties down your legs, not forgetting to arch your back while doing so, making sure the camera captured the soft curves of your ass.
Spencer watched you intently. He watched the way your body swayed from each movement, appraising the swell of your breasts and the way your nipples pressed against the thin material of your lingerie, slightly teasing him behind the see-through lace. His eyes skimmed along your neck, stopping at your face, taking in the way you were looking at him with half-lidded eyes.
You were so beautiful. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, reaching out as if guided by some unseen force, wanting to touch you further. He rested a hand on your hip while his other hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer as he slightly reached out, meeting you halfway in a soft, enchanting kiss.
You melted right into him. His unexpected kiss threw you off as you weren't prepared for how passionate he was exploring your mouth; nipping your bottom lip, softly sucking the flesh as he pushed his tongue into you. He was kissing you as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if the first time he tasted you ignited the passion within him, forcing yourself to surrender to his touch.
As much as you wanted it to last, you pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, completely breathless as if the sheer magnitude of his kiss had stolen the very air from your lungs. "We should... we should keep the show going."
Your words reminded him that you were still being watched. "...Right."
Finally pulling away from him, you turned around and faced your monitor, reading along the comments on the screen. Although the camera didn't capture your kiss, the intimate atmosphere was unmistakable, and many of your followers began speculating about the identity of this mysterious man. They raised questions, even going so far as to wonder if he was your boyfriend.
How you wished that was true.
You shook your head and focused on the other comments, picking up the ones where they were throwing you some dares. One of them insisted for you to spread your legs in front of the camera which was honestly something you plan to do anyway.
So you sat between his legs, pressing your backside against his crotch, and stifled a moan when you felt his cock pressing into you. You could tell how hard he was, how aroused he seemed just by touching you. It was undeniably satisfying to be the one who had evoked such a response from him.
You leaned on his chest, placing your head right in the crook of his neck, and slowly spread your legs apart, finally exposing your flesh. Spencer could feel his slacks tightening, feeling himself going hard at the sight of you. The soft, ambient light in the room played a delicate dance upon your wet skin, accentuating its flawless smoothness. He also realized he wasn't the only one mesmerized by you, the chatroom also seemed to be buzzing with excitement.
Horny_BBC: sweet fucking pussy Horny_BBC: dripping wet JadenCums: holy shit I need to fuck you Pussylicker sent a $100 gift Prince_Casper: I dare you to finger her tight little pussy pretty boy
"I think they dared you to do something, baby," you mentioned, arching your back and spreading your legs wider. But Spencer's attention was somewhere else, most precisely, on your chest. Your nipples were begging for attention and he couldn't help but reach out his hands over the swell of your breasts. He gave them both a gentle, appreciative squeeze, admiring the way they looked in his hands.
"Babe," you whispered, your voice almost coming out as a whimper. "T- That's not what they want."
"But it's what I want," he said absentmindedly, too focused on watching the way his large hands covered your breasts. "They can wait a little longer."
His hands then moved to tug down the straps of your lingerie, your breasts spilling out from the sheer lace material and he groaned at the sight. "You're beautiful," he praised you, earning a soft blush along your cheeks. He palmed them again, watching the fleshy, supple skin contort around his touch. "No wonder everyone loves seeing your body."
Your breath quickened as you felt the sensations intensify, pleasure coursing through your body. "Are you sure you've never touched anyone before?"
He hummed a reply as he pinched your nipples between the calloused pads of his fingers, tugging them from your body as he cherished the gasp that left your lips. Letting go as he watched your breast bounce at the motion before repeating the action, wanting to pull more of those noises from your pretty lips. His eyes glanced over to the screen and smiled in satisfaction when your subscribers gifted you again.
"See? They like these as much as I do," he mentioned, giving your breasts a final squeeze before down your stomach, across the dip of your navel, up and down the thickness of your thighs until he stopped between your legs. Fingers lathered down your slit, feathering at your folds and experimentally teasing around your entrance. He watched himself as he pressed onto your pussy lips, spreading them apart for your viewers to see.
This position wasn't unfamiliar to you, you had spread your legs for the camera countless times, but to have another person touching you overwhelmed you in a way you didn't know possible. And when you thought you couldn't take more of the pleasure building up in your body, he proved you wrong by pressing a finger right onto your clit, making circular motions right on top of it.
You couldn't help but let out a moan louder than you intended to. "Babe..."
You gave into the sensation, watching as his fingers continued their exploration. You could already feel him harden with each steady, rhythmic beat of his heart while his fingers explored you, collecting the slick of your arousal before spreading it along your folds.
Hardcock69: fuck her with your fingers Hardcock69: ruin that sweet little pussy
Spencer didn't have to be asked twice, sliding his middle finger into you. You let out a gasp. "Fuck, baby..." Your eyes were transfixed on the screen as you watched the way his hand flexed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you before adding another one, stretching your inner walls.
You whimpered as he began to thrust into you and your body jerked involuntarily. Your room was quickly filled with the lewd sound of his fingers plunging in and out of you as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. He watched your reflection on screen with curious eyes, catching the way your breath hitched and the way your lips fell split.
His fingers were long and thick, dragging along your walls. The moment of gentleness was suddenly gone when he picked up the pace. The speed turned into a ferocious one as if he was trying to reach deep inside of you and force something out. A reaction. He wanted to force another reaction out of you, more than you were giving to him now.
"That's it—fuck." You gasped, feeling that familiar coil in your stomach. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop."
He curled his fingers inside of you, making your body jolt. He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, and with every thrust, his skin rubbed against it. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips, your head slumping against his shoulder.
"Faster," you managed to squeak. "I-I'm close."
Who was he to disobey your wishes? He obliged to your needs and pumped his fingers in a mind-numbing speed. The intensity made it hard for you to think, your body trembling as you felt the coil inside you tighten desperately.
A guttural whine left your lips as he began to pump his digits in and out of your sloppy pussy, focusing on the same spot inside of you with each flick of his wrist. Your mouth parted in a squeal as your toes curled, the soles of your feet digging into your mattress as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you, helping you to ride out your release.
Maybe it was the inexperience of sex, the way he had never seen a woman come undone right before him, that piqued his curiosity. It was his first time, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the unknown, his eagerness to explore and understand the human body, especially your body. Every sensation, every moment, was tinged with the exhilaration of discovery, which led him to continue rocking his fingers into you, not slowing down even when you were a whining mess.
"Baby..." you whimpered. "W-What are you doing?"
Adam_4432: fuck her again Pussylicker: keep going pretty boy Pussylicker: don't stop even if she begs you to Pussylicker sent you a $200 gift
A new surge of pleasure engulfed you, a sensation unlike before. It coursed through your veins like a sweet, intoxicating elixir, so utterly consuming. Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, kneading them between your fingers as you felt this unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. It became so overwhelming your body was trying to ignore it, your eyes clenching shut as his fingers continued to pump into you.
"Oh, shit," You gasped. "I-I can't—"
Spencer's eyes flickered between the comments telling him not to stop and the way your body trembled in his arms. His free arm slid around your waist, pulling him into his chest as he gently whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"
Your lack of an answer was enough for him to keep going, digging his fingers deeper inside you, pressing onto that same spot repeatedly. He felt you shaking again, noticing the way your mouth fell apart as you gasped for air.
"I got you," he said softly, his eyes trailing down your body and his fingers between your legs. "Breathe," he instructed, slightly pausing when you clenched around him.
"N-No, don't stop," you begged him. "I can take it."
He curled his fingers again and you arched your back, hips bucking against his hand. "Oh god," you cried out, your voice sounding a little raw. "That's it—fuck, I'm gonna cum again."
He started to speed up, a sound of pleasure leaving his lips when your pussy started to squelch. It didn't take long for you to reach your second high as he doubled his movement, thrusting into you faster. You were shaking uncontrollably, and as you were about to calm your breathing from the overwhelming pleasure, another sensation burned between your legs.
You tipped your head back as it traveled along your body, clamping your thighs together only for him to push them apart again with his other hand. Every touch from him sent shockwaves of ecstasy, making your limbs quiver and your breath hitch. The sensation was so consuming that it turned your thoughts into a mushy, incoherent whirlwind, rendering your mind of rational thoughts.
"F-fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out. The intensity of it overwhelmed you to the point your tears began to flow. "R-right there—"
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Your body trembled uncontrollably, each shiver echoing the overpowering sensations that consumed you, and you couldn't hold it anymore. A harsh whine was torn from your lips as your release rippled through you. You gasped as your cunt began to convulse, a clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs as you cried out, "Spe—"
Spencer grunted as he clamped your mouth with his free hand, stopping you from calling out his name. He quickly pulled his hand and rubbed your clit furiously as he tried to coax more of the liquid from your convulsing body. Your body quivered as his meticulous touch kept you teetering on your high, the pleasure flowing through you as you continued to come undone.
He watched as your chest rose up and down, your perky breasts moving every time you tried to calm your breathing. Your body was still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you didn't want your viewers to see you in your most vulnerable state, at least not now when you were still trying to comprehend what just happened. So you sat up and quickly turned off your stream before you glanced at your drenched sheets and the mess you splattered across your desk.
“I- I’ve never—” You were shocked, the sensation completely new to you. "That... that never happened to me before."
You could hear the triumph in his voice as he replied, "Really?"
You were torn between amusement at his gloating and embarrassment at your own overwhelming experience. You turned your head to see him sitting there, grinning sheepishly at you. Your eyes flickered between his legs, noticing the outline of his cock pressing against his pants, and even by the shadow of it, you could tell his size was bigger than you anticipated. 
It didn't take long for you to make a move, really, because he was staring at you with doe eyes filled with lust and you couldn't stop yourself from climbing onto his lap, earning a moan from his lips as you settled right on top of his cock. Your wetness covered him and it took a lot of self-control for him not to pounce at you right at this moment.
"Hey, Spence?" Your voice was sweet, the tone of it reminded him of the way you had asked him to join you when you both stood in the kitchen. His ears perked up as he held you by your waist.
"Yeah?"
You smiled down at him. 
"What do you think about losing your virginity?"
He had never agreed to anything so fast in his life.
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drchucktingle · 1 year ago
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i have copied this comment without name because i think it is very kind and respectful and i do not want buckaroos interpreting it the wrong way. PLEASE UNDERSTAND this buckaroo is very sincere and has important points and please respect their way. i am going to answer in a way that is counter to their point and i do not want buds to go after them IN ANY WAY. THEY ARE PROVING LOVE AND THEY HAVE GOOD POINTS
okay here is what i have to say:
i have not transitioned and in this lifetime i do not expect to. i think you have a good point of 'how can you know?' and honestly i cannot know that is just how timelines and reality and perception work
HOWEVER i must caution against this train of thought slightly because what works for one buckaroos MAY NOT WORK for another. every time i talk about my non-dysphoric way there are plenty of well meaning buds, particularly fellow trans buds, who show up with posts in the tone of 'its only matter of time.' like i just do not understand yet.
this reminds me of bisexual buckaroos who are told 'you just do not know you are gay yet'. as difficult as it is to step out of our own dang minds, i implore buckaroos to accept that there VERY JOYFUL AND FULFILLED NON-DYSPHORIC TRANS BUCKAROOS who do not need to transition and never will and are healthy and happy without that. just like there are bisexual buckaroos who are not just on their way to being gay
a good way to look at it is like this: I LOVE MY MALE BODY. i think i am a very handsome buckaroo. i have masculine features in my muscle and height and frame. as far as how fate could have placed me on this timeline I WON MY OWN PERSONAL FOOTRACE. i am up on the podium and i am standing here with a medal around my neck. GOOD JOB CHUCK
HOWEVER when i look down i see that medal is silver. i am not going to lie and say it is gold. it is silver.
YES my gold medal is a female body. that is an objective truth to my trot. i believe my gender way is that of a women, but there is no part of me that is upset about where i have placed.
I GOT SILVER. i am not upset. there is no tragedy. in fact i am OVERWHLEMED WITH JOY not just to be on the podium but to be in this race in the first place. HECK YEAH I DID IT AND I GOT A MEDAL
of course this is not to dismiss the difficult journey of others. many do not feel the way i do and their trot is VALID. a dysphoric way matters and is important and these voices are important. they should be elevated and supported. i understand some do not share this podium imagery, and they feel PAINED by trappings of their body.
i feel so much for this. i understand and care for my dysphoric buds, but the simple truth is that is not my story. i cant just lie and say that it is.
it will never be my story. i cannot say this enough: i love my body. however i STILL believe my truest way is that of a ladybuck. if it was a simple button push to change me, then i would push it without hesitation.
but it is not a simple button push.
talk to almost any buckaroo who has transitioned and they will say 'transitioning is hard'. it takes time and work and money and emotional support. i am in awe of the bravery of buckaroos who trot this path, but all of that is not worth it for something that i already feel good about. SCRATCH THAT, i feel GREAT ABOUT. i feel overwhelmed with joy every day over just existing in this male body that i have been blessed with. YES buckaroo, i feel joy existing in a male body that i know is ladybuck on the inside. it feels interesting a cool and exciting.
but my truest way is STILL a ladybuck trot
i guess i am just trying to say that i love second place. im happy to celebrate it. i think my male body is really dang cool. it is not a 'perfect me' but it is really dang awesome, and i never really bothered with trying to be perfect
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affableramen · 2 months ago
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them apologising for calling you bad names
hurt/comfort, established relationships
(Pantalone, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Capitano, Alhaitham, Dottore, Dainsleif, Baizhu)
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Pantalone
You avoid him for the rest of the day but eventually in the bed time Pantalone meets you. He enters the bedroom with a grave expression in his eyes, eyeing you sit there on the bed with a book in your hands. Distracting, he thinks, she is distracting herself. 
“You know I didn't utter those words seriously”, Pantalone says, omitting the usual ‘darling’ on his lips. You roll your eyes and shake your head dismissively, showing him apparent unwillingness to chat over the issue any longer.
“Say”, Pantalone leans to the door, his fingers, at this moment of time, bare, scratching the roof edges of his antiquated mansion wall, “Are you deeply offended by my comment? It is but something… trivial.” Seeing no reaction from you Pantalone slowly makes his way to the bed and sits down, his body making an impact to the mattress, that being gently pressed on.
“I should have held my tongue.”
“Your tongue is poisonous”, you say abruptly. Upon hearing this, Pantalone reaches his hand to your hand and takes it in his. 
“Hear me out… Please, darling, I would never honestly speak so ill-mannered of you. It was out of stress. You are not… pathetic. Never have been.”
“Mhm. How about ‘brat’? How about ‘loving me only because I provide for the family?’” 
Pantalone closes his eyes and shakes his head. You can see how his own words inflicted upon you sting. 
“Nonsense! Not a single word I spoke then was truthful.”
“Pantalone, if I ever made you doubt my affections, please do let me know.”
You abruptly put your book on the bedside table and switch the lights off. 
Wriothesley
“Why do you keep insisting on these things? You think I don’t know them?”
“I think you’re simply less educated than me. You should understand, Y/N that in some aspects you may be less intelligent. Stupid even.”
“Less intelligent! Stupid!” 
Wriothesley covers his face and bites his own lip when he realises what unruly language he just used. 
“I didn't mean that-”
“That I’m stupid?” Your patience blows up and you decisively start strutting to the exit door of his office.
“I didn't mean to sound that harshly!” Desperately Wriothesley follows; but to no avail. You already shut your door before his nose.
A few hours after Wriothesley finds you in your two’s favourite café, of course it would be the place where you’d go to reflect on your irritation. 
“Here, your favourites”, he puts the bouquet of vivid red flowers on top of the coffee table, next to your hand, and does it with such carefulness of behaviour you would least expect from him.
You look at him, facing Wriothesley’s eyes at last and as if having your thoughts read the duke says with regret:
“And sorry.”
You take a look at the flowers, your fingers caressing the petals.
“Okay”, you respond quietly. Wriothesley receives approval from you and takes a seat, his attitude nothing but amiable, a far cry from his roughness in the morning.
Neuvillette
“I told you that some matters I unfortunately, willing or not, have to solve on my own. There is no place for you in some of my business, because you’re just one weak-” Neuvillette holds his tongue, realising how personally offensive the words he said sounded. How villainous he suddenly appeared before you.
“Human? Yeah, I know. But me being human doesn't mean I can’t think and analyse, and there’s no way I’d approve the responsibility you’re about to take on yourself. I strictly dissgree.”
“Strictly disagree?” Neuvillette does not believe his ears, for you had always been a quiet amd obedient one, quite agreeable and supportive of his opinions. Yet this time you could not stay silent, seeing how your precious husband puts himself in danger for the hundredth time.
“You are to not take on that mission, are we clear, Neuvillette? And I am not weak, neither am I dumb or uninformed.”
In awe, Neuvillette stands there, looking at you. At last he takes one careful step closer, his hand in his hair, pulling it back as he’s thinking on something with raw intensity.
“If my wife is ready to convince me so much to not do something, if she finds my impulses false, then I will do my best to refrain. Knowing how worried you might be for me, perhaps it would be wise to reject the mission first and utmost.”
You nod, your face grave, uninterested as you turn away from him and walk out of his office. Only then Neuvillette stops you, his wrist tightly on yours. 
“Please, beloved, if you could forgive me for my poor choice of words and underestimating your judgment.”
“It doesn't happen first time, Neuvillette, for being a dragon sovereign makes you incredibly stiff to perceiving others’ opinions. But I’m glad if you do truly believe me now.”
“I do. Please, don't stay furious and frustrated for long.” 
You finally smile, forgiving your dragon husband as you make haste to leave the court, otherwise dramatic Fontainian society that loves gossiping and tragedy so much, will turn your little banter into a lavish scandal.
Tartaglia
“Peanut, I just said that you can’t fight as hard as I do, I didn't mean it in a bad way.”
“Of course, Ajax. You meant it in the way ‘I’m the coolest, and you are inferior’.”
“No, no, no. It’s a misunderstanding! Hear me out, babygirl…” Tartaglia gently grips the both of your shoulders and stares intimately into your eyes.
“I just wanted… You know, I just meant…” he blushes crazily and his expression radiates sheer embarrassment as he tries to seek excuse to explain himself. “I, uhh… Consider myself a great fighter, and you are exceptionally good, too…”
“Exceptionally good?” 
“Absolutely exceptionally good, babygirl. But I am simply worried, okay? I’m scared”, he rubs your shoulders up and down, as if trying to comfort you, but in honesty it rather comforts himself. “I don’t want you hurt. So you better stay home. Training.”
“Training only, nice. I will never fight real enemies if I am constantly kept hostage in Fatui training camp.”
“You’re just… so fragile. You know what I mean?”
“Uhuh. The Eleventh considers me a weakling. Nice discovery, if you weren't my boyfriend”, you free yourself from his grasp and go about the narrow long corridor of headquarters. “I thought you would trust in me and my power a tiny bit more.”
Ajax follows you immediately, his steps agile and steady as his hand gently takes yours.
“You may come with me next time. But tomorrow, I want you safe. Okay? And please… I’d never call you weak… Never.”
“Mm…” you gently caress his gloved hand with your thumb, almost failing to see him in the dim light, but feeling his erratic breath caused by quick talking.
Capitano
“I can’t let you do this, woman. You are acting immature. You have always been a bit naïve, but this is where you should start obeying me”, Capitano says with a harsh, yet genteel aura around him.
“And my love for you, Capitano, is also naïve?”
At that moment Capitano drops his expressionless, emotionless act and looks at you with horrified glint in his eyes. He wants to comfort you, to apologise for his words but realises that was once said cannot be taken back. Oh how he wishes he would hold his tongue for a little while longer!
“I didn't mean that, woman. You know that I would never-”
He shuts his eyes for a second, a storm of overwhelming thoughts crosses his mind over and over while you are standing before him, patiently waiting for an answer and expecting your husband to provide you with a proper one.
“You are weak… no not weak; you are frail. You need protection. And I want to protect you, but I may not be able to do it in Natlan. Not when I am wounded myself.”
“Oh, believe me, Capitano, I can and will protect myself. And you know what, big guy? I don't even need your permission to come with you anymore. You will accept me, because I am your wife, and I will be by your side. Especially, when you are wounded.”
Capitano raises his hand to caress your cheek with his knuckles, light-weight.
“You are going to get yourself in trouble, love.”
“I know my limits, and I can clearly see that my husband needs me, even though he won't ever admit it.”
The raven-haired tall gracious man with impeccably sharp aura around him speaks with emotion:
“But if you get hurt, I won’t ever be able to forgive myself.”
You stand on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks.
“Oh, Capitano, I will take care of myself just to spare you the trouble.”
Dottore
“You’re a dork, I don’t even have pity for your stupidity. You got this chemical burn deserved.”
“Said who? You’re the one treating it right now, Doctor”, you respond with a tiny smug smirk, watching how carefully and gently Dottore is working on your palm. The burn is not too big, but painful enough to prevent you from completing your tasks for today.
Dottore reveals his teeth, groaning at you, his self highly dissatisfied and frustrated. He smoothly applies a herbal-smelling ointment and covers your hand with tight bandages.
“I insist you staying home tomorrow. I will speak with Pierro and describe him the accident.”
“Surely you don't have to go to such lengths for me only, Dottore. You know, I could speak with the Jester myself.”
Dottore stabs the knife with which he had been cutting the bandages, into the desk.
“NO, he won’t even speak to you. He is very uneasy to find”, he lets out a long held sigh. “Besides, brat, I think I made it clear you need to rest at home.” He glares at you with his poisonous ruby eyes. “Primarily, in your bed.”
“If the doctor says so”, you shrug, too exhausted to argue and too grateful for his help to deny him of this small favour. “I do not mind staying in my bed for a little while.”
Once the treatment has come to an end, Dottore once again checks your hand; quickly, lightly, without a single unnecessary touch or glance. 
“Sorry for calling you a dork. I didn't mean it wholeheartedly”, he clears throat. “Though I still think your ass is highly careless.”
“I will work on it, hopefully my curiosity doesn't lead me to any other injuries”, you wave to him upon leaving the lab. “Can’t have my doctor worry too much.”
“Remember to look closer what you touch in my lab next time, silly creature.”
Dainsleif
“I think you’re forgetting how difficult it is to fight Abyss alone. I can’t believe you disobeyed me again and went seeking for abyssal hounds. This is infuriating, Y/N. I have never seen a woman act so stupidly and rashly before”, Dainsleif says roughly, through gritted teeth. His expression is grave and ominous.
“I feel strong desire to take your Vision away and lock you home until you learn to respect my rules.”
“Your ‘rules’?” You raise your eyebrow, looking at Dainsleif no less infuriated and frustrated than he is currently. “You think if you’re older than me, I have to act like your little puppet on strings who does everything that is ordered? Hell no, Dainsleif. We won’t have it this way.”
“FOOL!” He yells, his arm grabbing you tightly and pressing you against a wall. “You could have gotten yourself killed! You could have been hurt! You don’t know the thoughts running through my mind when I imagine you hurt; I want to burn the whole world for you.”
“Let me go, Dain. Please, this is uncalled for, you know that, right?” As you gently ask him Dainsleif slowly, but hesitantly releases your arm and takes a step back, closing his hands behind his back.
“I ask you once again to refrain from getting yourself harmed by the hand of Abyss.”
“Did you just call me a fool? I thought you were better than that.”
“For that ruthless language, I apologise. However I need your obedience when it comes to survival matters.”
Slowly, you walk over to look into Dainsleif’s eyes.
“I understand your tragedy wholeheartedly and I sincerely respect your wish to protect me, but you need to understand that my fighting skills are not low anymore, I can be efficient and agile.”
Dainsleif’s head hangs down, you see that he is contemplating something in the depth of his heart.
“I see”, his hand reaches out to you, even though he is not looking in your direction. Dainself intertwines his fingers with yours and speaks, much quieter and softer words:
“I’m sorry for calling you a fool. That was uncalled for”, his hand gives you a light but worried squeeze. “Just… be careful, Y/N.”
Alhaitham 
“You’re acting like a child. Your opinions are too dreamy, irrational and irrelevant”, Alhaitham speaks briefly as he opens his book and hides his sharp gaze somewhere in the middle of the paragraphs.
Having acknowledged his disregard to you with pain in your heart you throw your arms around and ask him with bright feeling which is contradicting his own manner of speaking.
“Speak about irrelevance! You are the embodiment of irrationality yourself, for guilting me into thinking that you actually care for me.”
Alhaitham stays still for a moment but a tense squeeze he gives the book in his fingers raises even more contradictory emotions between you. 
“I knew you are a difficult person to get intimately acquainted with, but your actions proved that you had at least a bit of attraction towards me. If not, then your choice of words and manner of speaking to personally me was too extreme. If not, and you are dreaded by the mere thought of me being intimately honest with you, spit it out. I don’t want you to play the romance where it no really belongs. I don’t want you to like me out of pity.”
“But I don’t”, Alhaitham finally closes the book and removes from his seat. “Your opinions and decisions make me question whether or not we are compatible enough.”
“That is because you are thinking too rationally.”
“And you are thinking too irrationally.”
“You were the one to touch my hand and hug me in a very personal way. And if I am not mistaken, you are the man who never touches anyone and is dreaded by a mere thought of being pulled out from your serenity.”
Alhaitham then shivers slightly, his body mannerisms betraying distress and frustration that is not by a long shot defined in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry for calling you these words. These are bad words, I should not be disrespecting you so”, he looks away, giving his lip a strong bite whereas finally giving you a relief: “I always thought and I still think that you are a perfect companion for me, but our opinions are very unlike.”
“So you think two people cannot get accustomed to living with each other if they have different choice of words or thinking! Alhaitham, this is laughable.”
“The only laughable thing right now is that I desperately want to hug you”, without further hesitation he pulls you into his arms, an embrace filled with warmth and dedication, while his fingers gently stroke your back. “I apologise, my love.”
Baizhu
“You are being too nosy and impatient, sweetheart. I asked you to not ask me specifics of my contracts and yet here you are - interrogating me like some sort of criminal. I am feeling pressured and most frustrated!” He throws his arms around. “Darling, if you could give me some space, I would finish what I started with no further delay.”
“Am I violating your space by simply caring for your well-being? Baizhu, your contract has gone way too far; your help to people robs you of your own happiness, can you not see it?”
“I will be most contented if you simply leave me to finish my work. I would be happy if you simply encouraged me, but I’d be even more grateful if you stopped asking me so many questions.”
You know perfectly well what it’s like to sacrifice yourself for other people’s sake however you could not any longer bear seeing your love life being disrupted by Baizhu constantly feeling sick and suffering. You want nothing more than him to feel safe, secure and well, but instead this curious pharmacist only risks more and more his life in exchange of knowledge and improvement.
Though, Baizhu did recognise your words as a simple statement of care, he only admitted it in a few days. While you were helping him sort his things out in the pharmacy, Baizhu dropped his formal act and gently touched your hand.
“Darling?”
You stopped sorting at once when you heard what he declared:
“I’m sorry, I was so rude to you speaking about my health.”
You turn to face him and notice the sincerest apology in his snake eyes.
“I just wish you’d understand that my worry for you is not intended to make you uncomfortable or distressed.”
“I do understand it now. I will try my best to not bring you suffering from seeing me suffer. I cannot reject what I had started, but I will seek ways to heal both me and you from this torture.”
The gentle confession ends with Baizhu rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand. 
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