#oh how unbecoming of me......

[ikilledamanforthisurl]

i may overly praise the rugged handsomeness of the Jem'hadar, and everyone else may swoon over their favourite imposing Cardassian figureheads, but we all know the lizard who can get it the most is Tosk

[euthymiya]

khaenriahn princess reader x knight capitano ; jealous capitano ; implied hidden relationship ; pre cataclysm ; royal au ; capitano is not cursed yet so his skin is supple and youthful ; banter and fluff

“There is word, my lady,” his voice says lowly. You hum, reaching over to grab at his helmet. Capitano gently captures your hand before you can, pulling it away from its path to uncover his face. There’s a fleeting frown on your lips, but it’s gone as soon as he brings it up and presses a small, delicate kiss to the knuckles through the dark cloth that hides him from you.

“Oh? What of, my dear knight?” You ask curiously. Something tells him it’s almost mockingly innocent.

“That there is a rather…determined prince seeking your hand in marriage.”

Sometimes, it feels unfair that very rarely do you get to see the face hidden underneath the armor, but you suppose you don’t need to see Capitano to know exactly what emotion is twisted in his face. You fight back an amused grin—his voice tells you all you need to know.

You’re certain he must taste his own bitterness as the words fall from his tongue.

“Such grand news,” you gasp, “and yet…you speak with such hesitation. Has this news not brought you joy, my captain?”

“Forgive me, my lady,” he says unamused, voice low and just shy of a grumble, “I value your wellbeing above all. Should a capable prince ask for your hand, I would be most delighted if that is what you accept.”

“You do not sound delighted at the idea,” you tease.

“Perhaps my lady has not given me reason to think she would be interested in such a proposition,” he mutters.

This time, his voice does, in fact, sound the slightest bit petulant—like a child who sulks after being scolded. His tone is usually one that is far too courteous. Painfully so, in fact. (You’ve spent a good number of exasperating moments insisting he be more casual with you. You reap the rewards of those efforts few and far in between). But now, he betrays himself with a flicker of frustration, far too evidently for even you to miss.

He realizes too late how childish the words must sound spoken so irritably. You can tell that he clenches his jaw, seeing the tension even under the mask as he forces himself to still the bitterness spreading through his veins.

“Tell me, my dear knight,” you grin. You can imagine the unhappy lift of his brow as you speak, “what makes you so certain I would be disinterested in such an enticing offer?”

“It seems my assumptions were incorrect,” he grunts, straightening his back before promptly adding, “forgive me, my lady. I must see to rather urgent military affairs. I shall be seeing you—”

“Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Sir Capitano,” you quip, your hand grabbing at his wrist, tugging him towards you. He stills, stiff as a statue as your hand reaches for his helmet once more.

This time, he doesn’t stop you. He allows the lithe, delicate fingers he knows so well to grab at the edge of his helmet, carefully tugging it off before his face slowly reveals itself to you. You smile, cupping a cheek before tracing your thumb along the soft skin of his face.

“I am not jealous,” he says stubbornly.

“Haven’t they taught you never to lie to a princess?” You hum, stepping closer. His lips twitch just a fraction at the edges before two strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. Flush against his chest. Tucked right against his heart. Pressed so close, you almost wonder if you could feel his heart beating through the armor if you paid close enough attention.

“You torment me, my lady,” he murmurs quietly, “I fear I cannot accept this arrangement. It would tear through my soul to watch you be wed to another.”

“Then do not watch me,” you whisper.

You have seen his eyes flicker with soft, warm affection countless times. There is beauty underneath the helmet he wears so often, beauty that not many are so fortunate to see. You see it often, though. In private, hidden moments that he affords you. In the quiet of your chambers where the maids cannot disturb you. In the corners of the palace where no one can interrupt your fleetingly lingering touches and longing gazes.

Your hands hold his face, slowly pulling him closer as you study every precious slope across his skin. The slightly jagged curve of his nose. The plumpness of his lips. The slant of his sharp cheekbones. Every feature you know by heart, and revisit in your dreams.

You smile lightly at the thought of his jealousy, as guilty as you should feel for teasing him. Your knight—and you, his beloved princess.

“Do you wish to marry a prince?” He asks, leaning into your neck, breathing in your scent as his nose trails up your jaw until it reaches your cheek. Your breath hitches. His lips quirk into a smile.

“I wish to marry someone who owns my heart,” you say breathlessly, “prince or not.”

“Perhaps what you need is someone who is far more capable of carrying the weight of your heart. You possess rather discerning taste—it is not easy to please you, my lady.”

You huff, glaring at him from the corner of your eyes as you ask, “do you mean to call me difficult?”

“Among other things,” he chuckles. There’s a light, teasing trail of kisses pressed to your skin, leading straight to your lips. Capitano knows exactly what he’s doing, though—he stops just at the corner of them, making you pout as you try to lean in and close the gap.

He grins smugly, pulling away just enough to create distance between your mouths.

“You should not toy with a princess,” you say, displeased.

He hums, rubbing the small of your back as he counters, “and you should not toy with the heart of a man devoted to you.”

“Forgive me, my dear knight,” you murmur, gently bringing his face closer as your hands cradle his face once more, “I shall not torment you with such teasing again.”

“I am most grateful, your highness,” he fights back a chuckle.

Jealousy is unbecoming on someone as noble as the captain of your military forces. You like the way it looks on him just a little, anyway. Love the way his posture is more rigid and his voice is sharper when forced to consider the possibility of your heart yearning elsewhere. Enjoy the way he holds you tighter and closer as cool armor steals your warmth.

“Shall I tell this prince I am not interested?” You ask with a knowing look.

He hums thoughtfully, a smug smile playing on his lips as he replies, “no, I think I’d rather witness the expression of his highness when he realizes his charms hold no sway over you—a rare defeat for a man so certain of his allure.”

“Someday I shall marry you, my dear knight,” you whisper. Finally, with a softened look, he leans in to kiss you. Slow. Delicate. So gentle, it almost feels like you are one whisper from the wind away from falling apart.

“I look forward to it, my lady. Not even celestia could stop me from claiming your hand.”

————————

The last line is a big rip if you know what I mean 😔

[fanaticalthings]

I really like the idea of the bat kids designating Dick and Jason's apartments as sibling gathering spots but for opposite reasons.

Sibling needs some comfort? Some eldest daughter advice? A shoulder to cry on or just a lil getaway spot from the chaos of Gotham? Dick's apartment is perfect.

But if a batkid wants to complain, maybe wants to talk shit about Bruce, or maybe even wants to discuss a lil felony in a judgement free zone? Jason's place it is.

And I like to imagine that while Dick readily keeps his doors open and reminds anyone that they can drop by anytime, it's the opposite for Jason.

Dude's got his place riddled with traps and locked up to the high heavens. He makes it obvious he doesn't want visitors, and vaguely insinuates that there are bombs rigged somewhere in his apartment so there's a always a 50/50 chance you might get blown up if he's feeling particularly bitchy one day.

But does that stop his siblings? Absolutely not. Unlike Dick (who assigns himself as the guiding older brother), Jason has been forcefully labelled as the older sibling you go to if you need to complain and stir up havoc. The hundreds of traps in his place mean nothing. And it's worse because Jason is never prepared for when someone drops in.

-----

[Jason, 3 hours into his sleep, blearily waking up to a weight on his chest at 4am]:

[Damian, perched atop him, eyes dead-centre locked onto Jason without blinking]: Hello, Todd-stop screaming it is unbecoming-I just came to tell you that father won't allow me to adopt another stray I found on patrol.

Jason, half-asleep and like 70% sure he's hallucinating: Wha-

Damian: I need you to blow up his car.

Jason:

-----

[Jason, arriving home after a 6 hour patrol, exhausted out of his mind, turning on the lights]:

[Stephanie, previously baking brownies in the pitch black darkness before Jason arrived]: Oh hey! Just thought I'd drop by, y'know, for fun.

Jason: Bruce yelled at you again.

Stephanie: Bruce yelled at me again.

And yes, while most of the time, it ends up as wholesome sibling bonding, sometimes the other batkids just feel like inconveniencing Jason just whenever, because what are siblings for?

[Jason waking up and seeing all of his traps and security systems disarmed and very deliberately broken in a way where he'll have to replace all of them instead of being able to reactivate them]:

[Jason, immediately dialing his phone angrily]: Tim, I swear to GOD-

-----

[Jason giving himself a rest-day and cooking some meals]:

[Dick somersaulting in through the open window unannounced (he missed his brother)]: Whatcha up to, littlewing? :>

Jason: GET OUT-

-----

[Jason casually reading a book, feeling a sudden chill up his spine]:

[Cassandra standing in the corner without so much as an exhale, watching Jason intensely. Who knows how long she's been there]:

Jason: Are you here to kill me

Cass:

Jason: Just make it quick.

[ebodebo]

The Girl Can't Help It

-thinking about bodyguard!simon with princess!reader... MDNI

An unfamiliar knot twisted in your stomach at the sight. It was preposterous. Unbeknownst. A damn eye sore. A throng of women, all betrothed, all but ripping Simon, your bodyguard's, clothes off his body. 

How unbecoming.

You did not heed what the Prince of Prussia said, perhaps something about his recent diplomatic mission in Tahiti. All you could think about was Simon and the slew of women around him, boasting as if he would care about the wealth and jewels the women possessed or the innuendos they slipped into conversation.

Granted, he only replied with a bland array of 'mhm' or 'how insightful.' His disinterested tone did nothing to nudge the woman away.

"Your mind appears elsewhere, Princess," The Prince of Prussia remarked, absolving you of your thoughts. You flick your eyes to his, sucking in a breath.

"My apologies," you say. "I am feeling rather ill. Pardon me." You quickly issue. You are sure your mother and father would reevaluate your informalities, but you would deal with that when it came.

You find yourself turning swiftly to approach Simon. He's as poised as always, his hands neatly in front of him, resting on the other, despite the conversation around him.

Your eyes shifted between the women. You are sure one scowled at you for 'interrupting.' "I am feeling quite daft. I shall like to leave," you proclaim to Simon. His eyes flick to you, but his head stays stationary.

"Your father has asked that you say the entire time," He says casually. "For prospects." You tilt your head a bit, releasing an irritated sigh.

"I believe you should have more regard for what I am asking of you," you exasperated. He tilts his head slightly, merely squinting his eyes, clearly aware of some underlying factor in your sudden mood change.

"I'm afraid the king's orders are final, Princess," he says, fixating his eyes back on the crowd. You swear you see one of the women smirk, and suddenly, you get an urge to drag her through the mud in the pig's pen, and maybe that will wipe that smirk off her face.

If not, the sheep's pen shall do the job.

"The princess has finally felt the sting of rejection," one of the women whispers under her breath to another, loud enough so she knows you hear her. "Oh, I do wonder what that will do to her psyche," the woman snickers sarcastically looking directly into your eyes.

You suck in a breath. "You should be wary of your words," you begin; the woman's brow lifts up slightly, a conceding expression taking over her face, "I shall be the next sovereign, commanding a whole country, and you shall stay just as you are, in a loveless marriage, betrothed to a man who initiates more moves on your milkmaid than you," you enunciate.

The woman scoffs, her face blushing, as she tries to discredit your words. She dishes out every excuse for her husband's endeavors, but it is hard to discredit fact, which is what it was. She instead calls you foul-mouthed and haphazardly turns to go towards the drinks.

The other woman hurriedly followed her out of fear.

You turned towards Simon, who couldn't help how the corner of his lips quipped. "Big words for a princess," he remarks.

"Well—I would not have to use such...vocabulary if she would have minded her own business," you defend, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Whatever you say," he smirked a little before returning to the crowd, returning to a serious expression. You eye him, feeling slightly intimidated by his stature.

"I shall still like to leave, Simon," you press. He turns to you, his eyebrow raising impatiently.

"I told you—" He begins, his tone dry.

"I am aware of what you told me all of two minutes ago, Simon," you roll your eyes. "I still want to leave. There are no men to consider for the prospectus. And I am growing quite weary of you not listening to me," you conclude, eyes narrowing at him.

He lets out a dry laugh. "Alright, Your Highness. Let's get your poor, weary body out of here." You find yourself rolling your eyes yet again at his sarcastic tone. Though, you don't speak on it. You turn to walk out of the grand doorway, carefully moving through the sea of other patrons, many attempting to stop your stride to converse. You keep moving, with Simon following close behind.

Once you step into the hallway, you quickly scan the area, checking for loose guests. You smile when you realize everyone is occupied in the stateroom, swiftly gripping Simon's hand and moving the two of you into the small closet adjacent to your father's music room.

Simon locks the door to the quaint closet, his eyes burning into yours as he tightly grips your waist. "A closet?" He props as you delicately untie his tie, tossing it to the side.

"We cannot simply go into the music room. Did you forget what happened last time?" You raise a brow. He leans his face down, pressing deep kisses to your temple while slipping the short sleeve of your dress down your shoulder.

"I have no idea what you're talkin' about," he mutters into your collarbone, lips dragging to kiss your sternum. You release a small, breathy moan, bringing your hands to thread through his light hair.

"You broke my father's piano," you meant for it to come out assertive, but it came out more breathless. He snakes his hand around your back, carefully dragging the zipper down, making your dress pool at your feet.

"I seem to remember you were the one on the keys," he gruffs into your lips before engulfing them with his own.

It had only been a few days since the last time you and Simon had...connected. However, with how both of your bodies react to a simple kiss, you would have guessed it has been months.

"Because you put me on the keys," you choke out as Simon's tongue drags across your sensitive skin, starting at your neck all the way until he's sunk down on his knees in front of you.

"Since you have a better memory than me, what did we do after I put you on the keys?" He murmured into the flesh of your thigh, teeth grazing the fabric of the waistband of your panties. You grip his head, pushing more into you, desperate for more friction. "Huh?" He tuts against your skin.

"I—you, well, we had intercourse," you say earnestly, gripping the shelf behind you to gain more stability. His gruff laugh traveled up your leg all the way up to your mouth, eliciting a moan from you.

"Intercourse?" He jibed. "No. Gimme all the gruesome details, baby. None of that proper shit." He moved his face from your thigh to press a deep kiss to your clothed cunt.

"I do not know—ah—what you speak of," you choke out, attempting to push yourself into his face more with your hands gripping either side of his cheeks.

"Come on," he urged, his nose rubbing against your clit in the process. "Don't play dumb with me, sweetheart." He grips your thighs, tugging himself closer to you. He substituted his nose in favor of his mouth, hurriedly pressing his hot, wet lips to your aching clit.

You whine as you feel the friction increase. "Tell me, or I won't let you come," he groans into you. You reply with a pathetic whimper, body shamelessly grinding against his face.

"You used—you used your fingers," You grit out, throwing your head back as his teeth pierced through the thin fabric. He slips his tongue through the new tear, lapsing at your throbbing clit.

"That all?" His brisque voice vibrated against you.

"No. You, you fucked me," you voice. You receive a low groan in response. Got him. "I was so wet you just, you just slipped in," you continue, moaning as you see one of his hands slip from one of your thighs to massage his clothed cock.

"My, my. Sure got a tongue on you for a princess," he jests, a strain in his voice as he massages himself with much pace. His mouth picks up the pace on your cunt, tongue continuing to lapse around your sensitive bud.

"I could say the same for you, Simon. " Your voice is hoarse. You feel the corners of his mouth lift at your innuendo, which makes you form a smirk of your own.

"Keep talkin' to me," he almost begs. His hand and mouth are moving briskly; you're grinding against his face, hands gripping the back of his head.

"Fuck, you, you feel so good," you whine out. You swear you hear him moan, but you can't be too sure as his face is currently suffocating against your skin. You would ask him if he could breathe, but you knew he wouldn't move until you came.

"You always feel so fucking good," you wail as your orgasm hits you like a train, Simon's following shortly behind. He's gripping you tight so as not to fall over, leaning his forehead into your stomach as his orgasm settles.

Once both of your post-orgasmic haze dissipates, Simon stands to straighten out your dress. You bend slightly to pick up his tie strung on the ground, carefully tying it around his neck neatly.

"You have soiled your trousers," you observe, looking down at the wet spot on the front rise of his slacks. He lets out a quiet laugh at your inspection, leaning his head down to kiss the shell of your ear, muttering a gruff, 'And whose fault is that?'

Shit, maybe this whole bodyguard thing wasn't so bad.

a/n: boomshakalaka yesss gawdddd

reblogs & comments encouraged!

[staryuee]

WHAT THEY DO WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE!

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread, dainsleif/pantalone may be ooc (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . just cute habits, actions etc that they do, whether intentionally or not, after being struck with cupid’s arrow.

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . jean, diluc, zhongli, xiao, nilou, xianyun, dehya, wanderer, arlecchino, pantalone, dainsleif

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . scrolling through the genshin tag makes me wanna die sometimes…i’m trying to do investigative work and i have to quickly scroll past the same smutty language like it’s booktok torture + also i’ve been playing baldurs gate 3 for the past several days and i think i’ve developed a problem…

G. JEAN — 琴

ʚ jean is very subtle in the way she loves someone, she doesn’t want to keep it secret per se, but her love is always almost adjacent to a puppy crush; something that seems fleeting but in the long run returns harder and hits oh so much worse.

ʚ she can’t necessarily abuse her powers, and she wouldn’t dare dream of messing up the order she so carefully has managed to maintain, so the way she tries to convey her feelings across isn’t too brash or loud.

ʚ simple things like letting her hands brush against yours when she passes you documents, allowing you to visit her office whenever you please even if it’s to just sprawl down at a nearby couch and read a book you found in the library while meandering, and even letting you join her on her daily walks across the courtyard.

ʚ during windblume festivals she won’t hesitate to strike up a seemingly harmless and friendly conversation, all the while sneaking a flower into your hair that resembles the feelings you stir up inside her fuzzy heart.

ʚ jean is overall quite an awkward person when it comes to anything related to romantic or plantoic ties, she’s a bit of a people pleaser in that way where she prefers to assume everyone’s a friend before an enemy… or in this case, “interested”.

ʚ with backup and sought guidance from her good friends lisa and kaeya, she’ll try a myriad of tactics to get you to notice her; a little shoulder massage there, a heartfelt sticky note placed on your workstation there, inviting you to classic candlelit dinners etc.

ʚ yes, believe me, she even tried the cartoonish “rose bit between teeth and uncomfortably arched side lean on a wall” approach before deciding it’s much better to listen to herself than the flamboyant duo.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

ʚ diluc is the actual epitome of a gentleman. his love is so pure and genuine you can’t help but flower press every petal from the various bouquet he personally delivers to you on special occasions (anything from you completing a particularly hard or draining mission to doing something you thought you’d suck at).

ʚ his coat is also yours now. it’s like a six sense at this point to notice when you’re shivering out in the cold winds, and it’s become even more of a routine for him to simply shed that fluffy coat of his and drape it appropriately over your shoulders, trying to maintain a comfortable distance between you two as he adjusts it both to ease your tension and assure the pounding of his heart goes unheard.

ʚ diluc doesn’t enjoy using his riches to woo someone, it’s uncouth and just shows a desperation unbecoming of someone who dates to marry. if he wants to know you’re in it for the long haul, he’ll be much more sensitive and thoughtful when picking out gifts for you, each them have to hold some level of significance in your life.

ʚ the whole fiasco with his poor maids and some sneaky, perverse stalkers and diluc’s flaming great sword certainly applies to you as well; he’ll quietly ensure your safety in the night, helping you walk home with his arm hooked under yours, and in broad daylight he won’t hesitate to swing that polished wolf’s gravestone of his against any onlookers.

ʚ diluc is extremely closed off but deeply sentimental, he can so easily find himself rambling about his childhood stories to you; anything from how he used to collect seashells with kaeya to bring back to their dad, or how him and jean used to let baby barbara braid their hair together while babysitting…to things that are slightly more troublesome and heart wrenching to even mutter.

ʚ he may be less vocal than most in terms of feelings, but that doesn’t mean he won’t commit to it if he’s in love with someone. diluc isn’t the slightest bit dumb, he understand in order to get his feelings across he needs to do more than take random days off to spend time with you, he needs to at least hint it in a way that clearly gets his intentions across.

ʚ believe me, whenever you come by to dawn winery per notice, everyone raises a brow at you with curious smirks and gazes as diluc nearly stumbles on his words to get the phrase: “you look lovely tonight” out.

ZHONGLI — 钟离

ʚ he has up to thousands years of romantic customs under his belt, he understands the vague signs and ways to further communicate how much he adores you.

ʚ … that would be the case in its full if not for the fact for the first thousand couple years of his life he wasn’t busy maiming other gods and shedding blood. safe to say, his memories of mortal “courting” is slightly, if not absolutely, a massive, weaving and overlapping trail of various centuries and cultures he’s been accustomed to; anything ranging from the days when khaenri’ah was still in its prime to nowadays with newfound slang.

ʚ he’ll recite the most beautifully heartfelt and awfully sincere poem all the while you’re fighting your life in a haunted house (he’s heard this activity is helpful to get couples closer to one another, and given the fact you’re clinging on for dear life at the edge of his coat, he assumes he’s on the right track!)

ʚ he wants to impress you while also maintaining an air of genuineness to his actions, and while that does sometimes end in awkward situations where he ends up wearing regal attire to what’s supposed to be a casual dinner at wangmin, his heart remains completely pure in its endeavours.

ʚ oh, let’s not forget this man is quite literally a dragon too!

ʚ sometimes he can forget you don’t have the same complexion as him and will proudly present you some sort of glimmering relic from his hoard, forgetting that certain materials that existed back in the day were deadly and or toxic for mortals to touch let alone possess.

ʚ with a little nudge in the right direction, he’ll quickly learn everything there is to know for how to properly handle your precious heart. whatever you’d like, you may have — if it’s within his reach, that is. but it doesn’t mean he’ll stop at what’s available, no, just how much he’s willing to risk for you.

XIAO — 魈

ʚ he’s already embarrassed and awkward enough with accepting the fact he likes you, so accepting the fact that he loves you had left him with a lengthy exorcism spree down in some forgotten areas in liyue (it didn’t help).

ʚ in all honestly, not much changes; both because he’s rather emotionally constipated but also because he’s more than sure he’s loved you for longer than he seems to currently acknowledge.

ʚ letters that came only on special occasions like your birthday or his became much more frequent and a lot less poetic, it felt more like he was writing about his thoughts at the time, a little akin to how you’ve made him feel less constricted and much more free; he can finally have the courage to step out of his comfort zone.

ʚ all those small acts of love he used to subtly express (i.e gifting you two crystaflies, personally inviting you to come hang out, etc) he manages to double, he can’t have you thinking his intentions are the same as before. no, they’re much stronger now.

ʚ his guard softens around you regardless, but when you randomly fall asleep on his shoulder on your weekly visits at wangshu inn, instead of taking you to one of the rooms, he’ll sit there and allow you to rest, and if he’s assured you’re not awake to ridicule him, maybe, just maybe…he’ll sneakily loop his arm around your waist.

ʚ even just the thought of you makes him spiral into daydreaming, sitting atop a tree and swinging his leg back and forth carelessly as he stares up at the night to await for a new light, knowing full well the only sun he wants to see is you…just imagining his hands holding your waist like they did so long ago makes him shiver (hopefully this time he’ll get to do it when you’re not falling, and instead are falling for him)

NILOU — 妮露

ʚ nilou is basically a disney princess, if you see her singing to random birds that come watch her performances, everyone in the grand bazaar already knows it’s because you’ll be in the crowd that night.

ʚ each step within her routines are done with the little more passion, if that even is possible given her character, all because she imagines that pride and hopeful heart eyes in your eyes as all the attention is on her.

ʚ sometimes this fixation can lead to dumb mistakes on stage which bring her to sulking away with a hand on her forehead dabbing away at the sweat, but even the mention of your name as you pass by several sumeru streets is enough for her to brighten, do a quick wardrobe switch and run off to tackle you within her embrace.

ʚ nilou is not loud, but definitely not subtle. the exact representation of how she feels when you come to encourage her at her lowest (though those days are few). you’re there for her in ways you don’t imagine, and that alone is enough for her to daze away into the night as she cuddles her pillow, legs wrapped around it and all, and begins thinking about the what ifs of your relationship.

ʚ sometimes it’s a little comedic the way she speaks about you, it almost sounds like she’s reminiscing about a fictional book character with how much she takes pride in whatever little thing you do. no one tires of seeing her footsteps lightly tap against the ground in circles as she gushes about how when you complimented her the other day, you touched her cheek seemingly subconsciously ∩^ω^∩

XIANYUN — 闲云

ʚ she’s a little embarrassed at just how obvious she can be sometimes, it doesn’t help the fact her own children keep using this love of hers to their advantage.

ʚ she keeps nagging them about not taking care of themselves (she’s all too keen about their health and whereabouts now that she dwells alongside liyuean people) and yet just the mention of your name has her slightly stuttering in a ditzy trance as she hooks her glasses back up her nose bridge.

ʚ without hesitance, she’ll show you a photo album she has of all those close to her; would you like to see the drawing little ganyu made when she just barely had her horns? or perhaps the polearm young shenhe broke when she miscalculated her own strength in training?

ʚ her family is her pride and joy, it’s only natural for her to want you to be part of it even if it’s something as silly as raking through photos of a chubby ganyu eating the stem of a flower or teeny shenhe napping on a tree.

ʚ a peaceful life mingling with mortals has left her with ample time to enjoy the trivialities of life, and yet she finds her mind all too quickly wandering to you; had you been taking care of yourself? were you feeling lonely? did you need her to make something for you?

ʚ a secretive worry wart that quickly becomes that ancient adetpus she used to pride herself as soon as your delicate hands accidentally brush against hers; suddenly she’s perked up, chest heaven up high with a confident hand on her shoulder: you wouldn’t even think that flurry of pink hues gushing across her cheeks was real if not for the light providing evidence.

DEHYA — 迪希雅

ʚ oh she’s absolutely ecstatic!!

ʚ there’s genuinely nothing better than love in her eyes, especially just having the ability to love and trust someone fully when you haven’t been able to do so for a plethora of years.

ʚ doesn’t try to hide it, like at all, if anything she makes it rather obvious with the way she constantly pulls you closer as if you were already an item, arms constantly clinging onto you and your sides or her hands messing up your hair as you greet her.

ʚ she’ll take you anywhere you ask, free of charge of course (just promise to smile…and maybe if you’re up for it give her a kiss on the cheek, that’s sure to be enough reimbursement).

ʚ she’s already quite a confident and outwardly friendly person (if the price is right that is) but when in your presence? what’s wrong with just a little bit of showing off…

ʚ dehya needs you to see the best side of her!! maybe then you’ll finally give in and realise that her constantly asking for you to come join her on her travels and commissions isn’t brought out of mere timed coincidence

WANDERER — 流浪者

ʚ i saw that a few people were upset and confused by wanderer’s sudden switch up into being more kind/friendly, but i think we all forget what kind of person he was before his betrayals.

ʚ he loves wholeheartedly, if he adores something it consumes him in a warm pit of mushy domesticity — he doesn’t hate love or being kind, he hates the way it makes him vulnerable and the way it reminds him of the way he used to be.

ʚ that also means he’ll completely ignore you, or, try his best to rather.

ʚ wanderer knows within his heart that he completely years for you, just the accidental slip of his gaze meeting yours makes his brain go haywire, sending volts of electricity down his spine — you make him feel so alive.

ʚ it’s terrifying to return to a person you once were especially now with the knowledge of how being the way you were lead to some sort of tragedy, he’s managed to build up these walls so high and here you were, sneaking in through cracks he didn’t even know he had.

ʚ and he both loves it and hates it; loves the fact he can still feel, but hates how he’s so easily susceptible.

ʚ loving you turns into self-loathing and brooding, his feet pacing up and down every street at night to clear his muddled head. small distractions like taking strolls in meadows or sleeping up in the vines of trees lead to just thoughts of you and you alone.

ʚ wanderer refuses to be overly friendly and buddy-buddy with you even if he’s aware that if you decided to just one day hold him sincerely he’d burst into tears, but he can compromise with being less cutthroat.

ʚ “shut the fuck up” turns into him just rolling his eyes at you as you ramble (he soaks up any piece of information he can and locks it away), items you gift him now are more apparent in their value as he yells at those who dare question the dumb aranara pin you bought him and placed sneakily on his hat…oh and he gives you hat privileges.

ʚ it’s raining? …get close to him so you don’t begin complaining about the way the rain feels on your skin.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

ʚ she starts treating you less like an asset in her “contact if in need of assistance” roster and more like a friend — of course, she maintains that distance between you two, but she lets you wriggle around in her heart to see if you manage to fit.

ʚ chances are, you will — unknowingly she’d grown to love you in ways that may have even gone unnoticed by her given how natural they were; inviting you to random gatherings when the whim arises, pulling your chair out for you when out for brunch, or even tucking away strands of hair and twirling it around playfully.

ʚ arlecchino’s love isn’t something immediate or expected, she’s a woman who keeps every card close to her chest and her children even closer, you have to prove to her that you’re worth it, in a way that doesn’t necessarily mean spilling blood but more so answers the question: do you care, and are you willing to accept her blinding love?

ʚ it’s like a shepherd dog with a lost lamb, but that little sheep is just you, and she’s a wolf in need of a muse.

ʚ cute tea parties aren’t uncommon with the two of you, she’ll happily let you indulge yourself in treats as she leans back with scorching tea in her hands while memorising every curve of your lips as you chew and swallow, she loves watching the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and the little sway from side to side you occasionally do as an expression of joy.

ʚ once arlecchino notices that she’s began treating you as another authority figure in the house of hearth, she’ll reach and collar you gently, intertwining her dark, cursed hand into your flowery one.

PANTALONE — 潘塔罗涅

ʚ one of the most attractive qualities a man can have is knowing when to shut the fuck up and to slide his card over during a dinner — both such things pantalone can do effortlessly, especially when it comes to you.

ʚ arlecchino claims that: “he allows his actions to be governed by the vengeance and hatred locked in the depths of his heart.” something that definitely translates into his love affairs in more than obsessive manners.

ʚ don’t be afraid of the massive hauls of clothing and sparkling jewellery galore that are being trudged in by multiple men, darling, it’s just a menial souvenir from his latest travels and newfound connections that he thought you might enjoy ^^

ʚ while his grandeur usually stems from his deep hearted desire to overthrow the imbalance between immortals and mortals, rest assured the luxury he provides you purely stems from his desire to make you his.

ʚ whether that entails you being his pet for him to seek comfort from on the occasion or a genuine connection where he can comfortably hold you at night purely depends on you.

ʚ oh, you’ll let him chew your ear off about his recent expedition and extravagant plan? consider your rent payed for the next few months and a few kisses on your cheek that certainly aren’t actually part of the snezhnayan custom (let him indulge in those little cravings or else he’ll undoubtedly be petty).

DAINSLEIF — 戴因斯雷布

ʚ has a breakdown.

ʚ a little dramatic, but honestly if his entire life wasn’t a disgusting mess already, you’ve come to make it worse. fate is deliberately mean to brooding blondes it seems, given the fact he’s now stuck pacing around back and forth on a trail of dead abyss mages as he rereads a letter you’ve sent him weeks ago.

ʚ everything you give to him, everything you say, do, write, whatever, he remembers implicitly. each word you say is engraved into him as if they were important artefacts regardless of how pointless and mundane.

ʚ it can honestly get a little…scary at times? you’ll mention liking something once and all of a sudden you find it within your possession at least a few weeks later.

ʚ dainsleif doesn’t have enough time to wallow in the glory of mushy, all consuming love despite desperately wanting to imagine how your hand would feel caressing down past each of his scars, but what he can do is protect you, and to him that’s a greater blessing than intimacy he knows will end eventually.

ʚ a big tough man who would honestly fold the moment you call him any variation of a pet name, specifically with the word “mine/my” at the beginning — hey, it’s nice knowing you mean something to someone the point they view you as inseparable.

ʚ the timings at which he comes to aid you are all too convenient and believe me he’ll try his best to downplay it as coincidence, all the while he’s breathing heavily both from the face your eyes are scanning his so closely and the fact he used up so much energy to merely make a portal to sneak into your space.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[trulyumai]

Festivities of Saturnalia

pairing: caracalla / wife! reader

description: The Roman’s didn’t have Christmas; however they did have Saturnalia. With plenty of food, wine and presents, the festivities had begun.

warnings: none. so much fluff you’ll be buried in a soft, comforting cloud.

a-n: i love writing for this man so im glad y’all love reading it! enjoooooooy~

you didn’t mind the return of the festivities. Saturnalia; the festival held for the God of Saturn. It usually lasted a week, but with how the twins acted, it went for about two.

tables upon tables were situated in the main temple, almost everyone throughout Rome would show up in custom with vintage wines, aged cheeses and gifts aplenty for their loved ones.

you were no different. with two goblets in your palms and a semi-wrapped present under the meat of your arm, you made your way through the bustling crowd.

cheers and sounds of merriment were all around, a light break in the hustling environment helped you guide seamlessly towards the private section.

Where the emperors section lay tucked into the corner. Candles were spread out by the area, lighting it up beautifully while green foliage surrounded the offered foods.

“Ah, look who it is.” Placing the glasses gently, your thumbs brushed against the wooden table, with lidded eyes you smiled at Geta. “Good merriement to you too, my lord.”

The taller man scoffed, veiny hands smoothed over his mouth, wiping the stain and aroma of a bittersweet wine. His robes were ornate, gold lay about the seams as a white and red scheme took over the vastness of silk.

“Looking for your lover?”

Rolling your eyes, you sat down just beside him. Slumping forward with one arm pressed against a cheek, a sigh escaped quickly. “How’d you know?”

“Like it isn’t obvious,” gesturing to his drink, a servant dipped a bottle forward, filling Geta’s chalice completely.

The woman looked at you expectedly, already inching the beverage towards the empty cup.

“That’s alright,” you smiled, “see if anyone else needs their fill.”

The lady bowed, already on her way to the tables beside your own.

Swirling the marooned stained liquid around, a bored look crossed the emperors face before he spoke again.“So, what did you get my adoring brother? A robe, new rings… perhaps another disgusting pet to lay upon his shoulders?”

A laugh, warm and light broke out of you and Geta joined in smoothly. “No, no Dondus Jr,” nervously you brushed your hair back, little baby hairs escaped the tight braids and already you wanted to fix it.

“I got him something he’s been wanting actually.”

“Oh?” Geta leaned forward, his array of jewelery shined bright against the light. “And what would that be, dear one?”

Glaring jokingly at the ginger, you couldn’t help but return a moody tone back, shoving against his snoopy nature. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would, actually—“

“Angel!” Even through such a loud setting, his voice could be distinguished. Cranking your head up, you noticed the wrinkled clothing, the mess of hair placed upon such a pale head.

Your adoring husband.

“Finally,” Geta called out, tone flat and certain.

“I thought you were skipping such celebrations, we almost gave up hope!”

Caracalla, ignoring his brothers pokes, went straight for you. Not having time to stand, you smiled brightly up at the man, already he was placing a kiss upon the crown of your head, and one more on your temple.

Although he looked messy— seemed unfit for such an occasion, the man came with gifts. Two were perched precariously in his hands as a grin overtook his features.

“Angel, you left without me! I told you I had to get ready.”

“We both couldn’t be seen late, my love. It is unbecoming.” A whine, pitched and high left the man’s pouting lips. “Who cares? Not like they’ll say something.”

Caracalla gestured for you to stand and with no fight at all you did just that. Now, with access to a free and warm chair (thanks to you), the emperor crashed down, it was then that Dondus inched their way out from the back of his head, crying out to their owner for such an unexpected action.

“Hello little one,” you cooed, your arm came out for the little creature, to which they took most excitedly.

“Wife,” Caracalla whined. “Come, sit!” Spreading his legs, the twinned emperor made room for your frame.

“Gods,” a look of disgust was thrown your way. “Do you two have to be so touchy all of the time?”

“Yes,”

“Of course!”

The both of you coherently called out as Caracalla brushed his nose upon the smooth skin of your neck, just where the dress dipped down.

“I got you something,” you sung teasingly, your nails climbed their way up his arm until it met with his soft jaw. “You did?!”

“Mhm, well, technically I got you two things but,” leaning in, you had to whisper gently with lips just grazing his ear.

“You’ll have to get the other one tonight,”

Caracalla grunted out, although it sounded more like a muffled moan, his hands dug into your hips and with reddened cheeks he looked anywhere but you.

“Do you want the other one now?” You questioned,brushing past his unruly bangs.

“Yes— please,” already the man knew what present was his and grabbed at with with callous hands.

“Calla— patience!” Interrupted by a laugh you tried to slow the man down, but already the present was unwrapped and the emperors hands stilled.

“You didn’t.”

“I did!”

Geta leaned over the table, the wine in his hand dribbled over the side but it couldn’t be more forgotten.

“Impressive.” His brother spoke, eyeing the gift suspiciously.

It was a small knife, no bigger than a dagger but the ornate design made up for it. With a golden handle, white and yellow jewels go vertically up the sides, to where the silver, shined blade lay on display.

“You— how did you..” His eyes noticed an inscription, on the butt of the blade lay his initials, purposefully dug in with the skill of a smith.

“Happy Saturnalia, my love.” A kiss was placed upon his cheek, smudging a light red upon the man’s skin.

Geta lost interest completely, instead his attention turned towards the citizens bickering in the middle of the hall— pushing and shoving each other while accusations were being thrown. A contented, deep grin entered his face when a punch was thrown, then two.

“Your turn, Angel!” Finally out of his stupor, Caracalla placed a poorly wrapped box in your hands. It was long and small in width, only a fool couldn’t tell what such an item was but you held a look of surprise none the less.

“Mmmmh, what could it be?” Long nails felt there way under the material of the gift, until the top was lifted and removed.

Gods, you really were surprised now.

Shakily, your fingers glided against the stones of the jewelry, you couldn’t believe just how many jeweles lay upon the golden chain.

You were afraid to even remove it.

“Do you like it?” Nervously, your husband chewed at his lips, his palms now itching with sweat placed themselves on either side of you.

Afraid to even touch your figure with such tainted skin.

“I love it! Are you joking? I— I don’t deserve such a gift, my love, I—“

“Angel! What nonsense,” he growled, offended of such an exchange of words. Hastily the man grabbed the necklace, you bit back a worried garble of noises as the cold chain found its way on your neck.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in Rome, you of all people deserve such an item. It was made just for you.” Finishing up, the necklace was placed just right, not too tight but sturdy enough to be placed above your collarbones.

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled. Caracalla laughed at your embarrassed figure, his long fingers brushed back the hair hiding your face.

“Always so humble, angel. Look at you,” cooing, Caracalla caressed your reddened cheeks and you tried to scold the man, push him away with a gentle shove but it didn’t deter the man one bit.

“And where’s my little gift, brother? I gave you yours already.” Annoyed by the interruption, Caracalla pointed at the other gift beside his goblet.

“Have at it, Dundus picked this one out for you brother.”

“Very funny.” Geta squinted, picking up the box with hesitancy.

….

“It wasn’t a joke, brother.”

[stellamarielu]

sweetheart

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: working late with your boss (who you have a massively embarrassing crush on) was a normal occurrence for you. not a normal occurrence? him finding your favorite smutty romance novel and asking too many questions about it.

content: mutual pining, nsfw themes, age gap i guess, not actual smut but there are implications, teasing, some dirty talk (bc let's be real it's "how would you have liked him to touch you" declan)

author's note: so this is the first writing i've posted on here because this man and his hairy chest have me in a chokehold. the internet deserves more rivals fics!

——————————————————————

It was the third Thursday in a row you found yourself still at work after everyone else had gone home. You were sat across from your boss, the only thing separating you was an office desk. The piece of furniture was obnoxiously oversized, but you were thanking the universe for it because if Declan was sat even an inch closer, he would probably be able to hear your heart pounding. You had such a ridiculous crush on him. You knew it was inappropriate, but you couldn’t seem to care less. So here you were working overtime just to sit and gawk at him. Pathetic.

Sometimes you swore there was some sort of tension between the two of you. The accidental stares that lingered a little too long. The careful touch of his hand on your lower back when he passed behind you. Sure, you were probably reading too far into it, but in the back of your mind you hoped that he saw you as more than a young naïve coworker. 

Your delusions were further fueled by Declan’s constant invitations to join him in his office on Thursday nights. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that you would stay late every single night if he asked you to. 

But of course, he knew. 

He knew you thought he was attractive. He knew that his presence made you nervous. He knew that you had an embarrassing schoolgirl crush on him, and he liked it. 

Not only did he like the idea of you wanting him, but Declan reciprocated it. He spent most days with his gaze trained on the work laid out in front of him to avoid eye contact with you. He knew the second your eyes met he wouldn’t be able to control the small smile that tugged at his lips. He would never admit it, but he lived for making you giggle. The sound of your laugh was irresistible. He would crack little jokes throughout the day just to hear it.

Your voice alone was like music to his ears- christ, even the way you said his name drove him insane. He could feel warmth spreading through his chest just thinking about it.

The thoughts he had about you were unbecoming. Thoughts a boss shouldn’t have about their employee let alone an employee that was almost half their age. 

So, he tried his best to suppress his feelings and treat you as he would any other coworker. But it sure as hell didn’t help when you were always so quick to stay late and help him with his work. Granted he knew by asking you to assist him after hours he was just digging himself deeper into this newfound obsession. But he couldn’t help it, he longed to be in your presence even if it was just an extra hour or two once a week. 

These nights were mostly filled with silence but the occasional banter about office drama or a Keats work that you both admired was enough to have him wrapped around your finger day after day.

“What was that article you were tellin’ me about?” His question breaks the silence that had been occupying the room for the last fifteen minutes. 

You look up from your busy work only to be met with his kind eyes. For a man that had no problem showing his angry side, you felt lucky that you so often got to experience a version of Declan that was calm and light-hearted. You sometimes thought he had a sweet spot for you, although you came to terms with it probably being because you reminded him of his daughter who was just a few years younger than you.  

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that. Hold on I think I have it in here.” You began the search for an article you had mentioned to him that morning. It was an old gossip piece that you thought would be good for him to use on the show tomorrow night. 

You began taking things out of your bag one by one trying your best to find the paper in your giant unorganized tote. Notepads, books, a handful of pens, and your favorite lipstick that you thought you lost months ago are now strewn across Declan’s desk as you continue digging through your belongings. 

A small chuckle escapes Declan making you stop your search for a split second. Your head snaps up expecting to see him looking at you in irritation for creating such a mess, instead you notice his attention on one of the books you had taken out of your bag. Looking down you realize your copy of Lizzie Vereker’s novel was sat on his desk. A novel that was well known for its extremely erotic contents… and your copy was so worn the spine was barely intact. 

Before you could try to say something to make the situation less mortifying Declan spoke, 

“I see you’ve read Lizzie’s book then.” 

There was no questioning his amusement. He seemed to be enjoying how awkward this was for you. 

“That Lizzie is a quirky gal, but a truly great author.” He finished and picked up the book thumbing through the pages. 

“She gave me a copy after the garden party last month. When she mentioned to me that she was a writer, this-” you said motioning to the book, “wasn’t exactly what I had in mind”

You giggled as you spoke and the second the sound left your lips Declan’s eyes met yours. There was something about his stare now that you couldn’t place. 

“So I take it you’ve read it then?” You asked him, needing to say something to keep yourself from full on passing out in embarrassment. You wish you had asked something else because you desperately needed to change the subject from the smutty pages Declan held in his hands. 

“My-“ He paused, “Maud read it years ago. I remember readin’ a bit of it myself. Absolute filth.” 

He was looking back down at the book while his hands found the worn spine, a smirk plastered on his face. 

Okay, so now he knew you were so miserably horny that you not only read the book, but you enjoyed it so much that you must’ve re-read it multiple times- hence the condition of the novel. 

“You certainly seem to be a fan of her work.”

With this comment your humiliation began turning into irritation. Was he trying to further embarrass you by implying that you’ve clearly enjoyed the book? Can a woman not read exceptionally horny literature in peace? Now you’re becoming annoyed by the whole conversation. Afterall, it’s really none of Declan’s business what you do in your free time.  

“Yeah, well I spend a lot of nights alone in my apartment Declan.” You deadpan. “I’ve found the dating pool in this town to be quite depressing and I’m 99% sure the men in that book are much better than anyone I would meet here anyway.” 

You haven’t been living here long, it’s been maybe three months since you got the job to be a production assistant on Declan’s show. You’ve been working so much that you haven’t had much time to scope out the town’s most eligible bachelors, but from what you’ve seen you’re not interested. Not to mention the inconveniently debilitating crush that you had on your boss keeping you from noticing anyone else at all. 

“Oh and why’s that?” He challenges. This time looking you straight in the eyes, a smirk still playing on his lips.

Alright, he wanted to keep this up so why not. Two could play at this game. 

“For starters, these men” You steal the book out of his hands, “are written by women. Meaning they have empathy, they’re emotionally expressive and socially aware. Seemingly simple character traits but you would be shocked by how many men I’ve met in the last few months who lack the basic complexity of a fictional character.”

His smirk has turned into a full-blown smile making your body feel warm. 

“Not to mention the men in this book are capable of making a woman cum not just once but multiple times in a row. Which seems to be an impossible task for every man I’ve been with.” You continue your rant. Declan’s eyes fixed on you.

“These guys are getting off on a woman’s pleasure” you tap your book, “truly enjoying making their partner feel good. Meanwhile in reality, most men don’t even care if you finish as long as they get theirs.”  The second the words leave your mouth you realize you’re talking about orgasms with your unbelievably handsome boss staring right at you and immediately feel the need to hide underneath the desk in front of you. 

You look at Declan and notice his expression has gone from playful to something more serious. His lips show no evidence of a smile, instead they’re now relaxed and somewhat parted. His deep brown eyes are slightly hooded, and you could’ve sworn you noticed his chest rising and falling at a rather quick pace. He waits a few moments before standing from his chair and slowly making his way to your side of the desk.

“Well sweetheart,” 

Your mouth gapes open at the words. He’s never called you that. But hearing the pet name fall from his lips in such a deep raspy tone sends shivers down your spine. 

“I’ll have you know the kind of men you’re talkin’ about from your book do indeed exist.”

No longer separated by the desk he now stood right next to you, close enough that you could smell his cologne and the cigarette smoke that lingered on his suede blazer. 

“Some men relish in their partner’s pleasure. They can’t get enough of the way their body reacts to their touch. The way they look so needy and desperate for release.” 

He stops for a brief second. His eyes slowly drop to your feet and take their sweet time coming back up to meet your eyes, steadily drinking in the sight of your body underneath him as you sit still in your chair.

“The pretty noises they make as they come undone.”

His Irish accent sounds heavier than normal, and his voice is hushed. Your body is frozen in place and the room suddenly feels ten degrees hotter. His words are stirring something thick and foggy in your head and you can’t think straight. You’re all too aware of how close you are to him. Your face a mere foot away from his crotch. You’re able to make out the intricately braided patterns in his belt and you try to stop yourself from letting your eyes sink lower to what’s beneath it. 

Declan watches your gaze fall, and his mind starts to race. Knowing any second now his attraction to you will be evident by the strain of his pants. He gently takes your chin in his fingertips and pulls your gaze upward so you’re looking up at him through your lashes. 

Fuck- that sight alone is enough to make him finish in his pants like a teenage boy.

You looking up at him with innocent eyes, your lips parted just inches away from his hips- he thinks he may die right there on the spot. The effect you have on him is intoxicating, clouding his thoughts and almost making him see stars. What he says next comes from a place of carnal desire surprising even him, 

“Unbelievable that the men who’ve had the privilege of bein’ with you don’t even know how to fuck you properly. If I had you in my bed I would take my sweet time makin’ you cum over and over again until you’re beggin’ me to stop.”

As he speaks the hand that was resting underneath your chin gradually makes its way down, his fingertips now ghosting your jawline. 

“You deserve somebody who knows how to make you feel good sweetheart.”

There he goes with that nickname again. This time he says it and you can’t deny the warmth that pools between your thighs.  

Just as you open your mouth to respond, Declan’s phone starts to ring. Your eyes remain locked on one another as the incessant noise continues. You were beginning to think Declan would ignore the call so he could continue dirty talking you into a puddle, but he stood up straight from his position at the desk and began walking to the other side of the room. Answering the phone, he gazed back at you running a hand through his curls, nothing but lust in his eyes.

You sat up in your chair, blinking slowly and trying to gather your scattered thoughts. You weren’t sure what had just happened, but you did know one thing. 

The next time you found yourself that close to Declan O’hara’s belt you would be undoing it. 

find part 2 here

my masterlist

[delespresso]

WINNER TAKES IT ALL ━━ Fiyero x fem!reader

author's note; my only knowledge of wicked is from the movie, so that's what this is based on lol. i unfortunately do not live in a place where we have broadway/west end things (very sad coz i love musicals deeply) ps; not proofread!

prompt; “If I beat you, you have to kiss me” “That’s- wait, what?”

summary; weekend games were normal in shiz, but fiyero has a different idea of a game when it comes to the girl who caught his eye

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

Fiyero Tigelaar was used to charming the pants or skirt of anyone. He had people eating out the palm of his hand before he even said a word.

Imagine the slap in the face he received when she didn't even bat an eye at him. If anything, she always seemed annoyed whenever he was even mentioned or within proximity.

So he did what any other person would do — he kept pestering her. He was quick to become a thorn in her side and constantly shadowing her and showing up wherever she went. It came to a point where she was sure he was trying to be her extra limb.

During the weekend games, where everyone at Shiz gathered either in the courtyard, gardens or open fields depending on the game they wanted to play, he was even more incessant.

"Have you no one else to annoy?" she questioned as he stood beside her while they were playing a game of croquet.

Fiyero was leaning on his mallet, letting it rest on the grass as he gave her his typical nonchalant smile.

"None as entertaining as you, I find it stimulating," he replied.

She glanced up at him, the look on her face showing clear annoyance. Why was he choosing her to annoy, of all people? She was just a girl trying to surf through her university life, get good grades and have a bit of healthy fun on the side.

Without a certain winkie prince ruffling her feathers every other second.

"Its unbecoming of a fine lady to frown every moment of the day," he quipped.

She huffed out a chuckle, walking over with her own mallet in hand. She shifted to aim properly, before giving a gentle nudge to the ball that ended up right through a wicket.

Fiyero let out a low whistle, as if he was so impressed.

"Not bad," he hummed.

"You know, your praise isn't very stimulating," she quipped.

That made him smirk, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. She regretted her comment immediately but she didn't back down either.

"I'm sure we can find something that works," he retorted.

"You make me want to hurl," she replied.

"Ouch," Fiyero pouted, putting a hand to his heart. "You wound me, darling."

She imitated his pout, before turning away with a roll of her eyes. It felt like every little movement she made was being tailed by him. Their game only got more intense as it went on. Even the other players were a little concerned at how competitive they were.

The constant back and forth jabs, the heckling in hopes the other would miss their shots. It was a never ending loop.

It was the last round by now. Fiyero knew he was on the brink of losing — he was too easily distracted by her earlier. Now she was about to take the last shot, and if she made it then she'd most definitely come on top.

Now that couldn't happen. Not on his watch.

He walked around the field, going over to her side as she lined up her shot. He waited, watching the way her forehead creased slightly as she focused, the subtle pout on her lips.

Oh, her lips.

Then he had a cheeky little idea. With a finger rubbing his chin, he leaned in slightly closer just before she'd hit the ball.

"If I beat you, you have to kiss me."

His whisper right by her ear had warm breath fanning her skin. That was enough to send a random, odd shiver down her spine. Then his words registered just as she took the shot.

"That's— wait, what?"

She was knocked way off balance to the point her ball went completely south from the wicket. Nowhere close to how her shots had been so perfect before this.

Her jaw fell slack as she looked at the ball. Especially the distance between it and the wicket.

"Well, seems to me you're beat, darling," Fiyero mused.

She was still completely stunned by the fact. Especially considering she was always good at croquet — it was practically her game for crying out loud. In comes this stupid little prince charming knocking her off her game with a simple bet that wasn't even agreed upon.

Fiyero found it all completely amusing. Especially how flustered she was by a few simple words. He was definitely taking note of it.

"So?" he hummed, his body tilting to the side to be closer to her.

She turned her head, her eyes narrowed in a glare as she looked up at him. She wanted to smack that smug, cheeky look off his face with her mallet.

"No," she said simply.

She left the mallet in the provided space, trudging off the field and away from him. Hopefully for a really long time. He called out for her, unable to help the laugh that left him as she practically ran away at the mere idea of kissing him.

"Adorable," he mused to himself.

If Fiyero's life mission was to pester her, hers was to avoid him. She'd managed it for two solid days now. In and out of classes at the speed of light, no more lingering in the library unless she desperately needed a certain book and certainly no more courtyard homework.

Even her roommate was getting concerned by her behaviour, but she shrugged it off as her not wanting to be outside in public.

At some point it got stifling though, so she left the dorms at night. It was quite late and she wanted to go on a walk. So she went out to the gardens, past curfew. It was only for a few minutes anyway — she didn't see any harm done.

Until of course, someone else was already there. In her favourite spot. Playing with a stray puppy.

She couldn't avoid him for that long, clearly. As she attempted an escape, Fiyero looked up — their eyes meeting. And then came his cheeky little smile again. She was suddenly glad it was dark out, so he couldn't see her fully.

“And what's a good girl like you doing loitering past curfew?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, deciding to just go with it. She stepped a little closer — for the fresh air. Totally nothing to do with him.

“Can't sleep,” she shrugged, her arms folded as she looked down at the puppy.

Bending down, she reached her palms out. The little thing was quick to jump and put its paws on her hand, licking at her skin. A smile pulled on her lips as she entertained the puppy.

“You've been avoiding me.”

“You've been pestering me.”

Fiyero chuckled at her quick retort, shaking his head as he sat on the grass.

“Do you always have an answer for everything?” he questioned.

“Why do you think I read?” she quipped. “I understand the concept is foreign to you, seeing as you can't read.”

“Ah ah,” he clicked his tongue. “I can read perfectly well, princess. I simply choose not to tire my brain.”

“So you choose to tire your tongue by vexing me with every word that comes out of your smart mouth?”

He grinned — two days of nothing and now he was getting quite his fill of fun.

“You just called me smart,” he mused.

“Is that all you heard?” she scoffed.

“Selective hearing. I choose not to invite negativity and stress,” he shrugged with a cheeky smile.

The chuckle that left her was a welcomed one. He liked that, the way she laughed even if they were arguing.

“Why don't you like me?”

The question left him before he even thought about it. Then again, he wasn't really known for thinking, was he?

She paused from petting the puppy, turning her head to him instead. Her head tilted, before she moved to sit on the grass properly as well.

“I never really said that,” she said.

“You've implied it.”

“Oh, so you do pick up on context clues?”

He laughed then, unable to help the way her words amused him a little too much. He was always upbeat, sure, but she seemed to make him smile a little more than usual. Even now — their smiles were matching.

“I don't not like you,” she eventually corrected. “I just find my focus elsewhere.”

His brows raised as he leaned forward, his arms on his knees as he watched her. Not the way she was playing with the dog, or their surroundings. He was just looking at her face in the dim light.

“So you do like me?” he asked.

“I tolerate you.”

“Already an upgrade,” he hummed. “Just tolerate?”

“Don't push it,” she warned light-heartedly.

The sound of their chuckles were the only thing reverberating in the quiet garden, as well as the dog rolling around on the grass at her affections. They sat there for a long while, maybe an hour or so. Until eventually they both got up to get back to their dorms.

“You still owe me,” he said on their walk back.

Considering they'd both snuck out past curfew, they were rather casually strolling back to the dormitories. Her brows furrowed faintly as she looked up at him, still falling in step beside him.

“I beat you,” he reminded.

Her brows immediately relaxed as she shot him another look. Except this time it wasn't annoyed or exasperated, even if she tried. It was softer, maybe a little more amused.

He walked her to the stairs of her block, lingering for a moment. As she took a step upwards, she paused. Fiyero waited with a raised brow when she turned back.

Then she leaned down, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Now we're even.”

Safe to say, Fiyero had sweet dreams that night onwards — especially when the daily pestering started to receive warm welcomes.

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[crybaby-bkg]

I think Deku has a bit of a mean streak, actually. he’s no Bakugou—that’s for sure—but he’s not this innocent, sweet angel baby that the media has painted him out to be. but you only catch it when you least expect it, when you’re pushing his nerves, when the stakes to everything around him are high, when he’s tired of endless sleepless nights and just—snaps.

“Oh?” you go, grin unfurling like some grinch, chin resting on your hands as you leer at him from across his expansive desk. “You’re mean.” your words are teasing, a snarl that curls your mouth up. Deku stutters, eyes going wide, jaw snapping shut in surprise as he tries to think back on how rude he just sounded.

“No, I’m not—I mean, you wouldn’t stop and I just—there’s a lot on my plate right now—and you just—you keep on—I’m not—I’m not mean.” He’s sputtering, hands all over the place, the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose falling even lower with how he jabbers on and on. it’s endearing really, to see how he tries to upkeep his image of being so kind and understanding, even though his nostrils just flared at you. and his eyebrows turned down and he gritted at you, his hands were balled into fists, his words were so nasty, so ugly, so unbecoming for Deku.

you liked it. loved it even—vowed to get him like this every single fucking second that you could.

you pick and poke at him whenever you see him, teasing him and pulling at him. pushing him around even though the hero is so much stronger than you, so much bigger. and he lets you, tries to defend himself but—that’s not what you want. you want the ugliness, the snark, the mean.

he snaps, eventually, when you least expect it. grabs you up in black whip when you go to push him against the wall for the third time in only a minute, his eyes suddenly dark, the aura of the room suddenly charged.

“That’s what I was looking for.” you whisper to him, the grin spreading your face quickly dissipating in only seconds when you become the prey. when you become the one pushed up against the wall with teeth at your neck, a hand in your underwear, bullying your hole with too thick fingers.

“Why do you want me to act like this? Be so mean to you, huh?” he sounds so frustrated with himself, with you, growling and nipping and licking when you don’t answer quick enough. but your breath is caught in your lungs because finally—finally, did you get what you wanted. it just took a little bit of pushing, you suppose.

[fillinforlater]

Maknae Royale

Male Reader x Jang Wonyoung, Wang Yiren, Lee Gahyeon, Park Sujin (Swan), Jeon Somi, Shin Yuna, Kim Yerim (Yeri), Im Yeojin (9some)

Length: 10.000 words

Tags: live action porn, porn game, fucking for points, Team Battle Royale, squirting kink, edging kink, bimbofication, brat taming, doggy, fingering, face riding, blue balling, jerking you off, titfuck, standing sex, step-bro I'm stuck, anal, creampie, anal creampie, eating out, blowjob, face fucking, deep throat, rough sex, missionary, full nelson, against the wall, piledriver, mating press, overstimulation, porn_star!you / porn_rookies!idols

TW: even after editing, this is messy and chaotic and pure sex lol

Inspiration: the idea of a Maknae focused fic is not new, but I just went all in. This is also based on this vote I send out a while ago lol. I think I can name drop @writerpeach cuz I remember him saying sth like that.

Credit: @erospandemos for the cover art! Thabk you very much!

(A/N: One year after C.Ollection, I'm trying my best to celebrate and repeat that craziness, have fun! The beginning is a reference to Labyrinth of the Six. This is the same universe but not a sequel!)

-

"I was looking for copper and I found gold!"

You turn off the purring engine of your car. It is clearly not as nice as the purring of the girl you were in balls deep mere minutes ago, but let's be honest, those purrs should not be compared; one is mechanical, the other borderline maniacal. You let out a sigh as you kill the annoying lights in your car to focus on the call you just accepted.

"Hi, is this really how you're greeting me?" you respond, letting your fingers glide over the steering wheel as you watch a single car pass by in the middle of this warm, humid night.

"Oh, man, stop complaining!" the director says and laughs. You can hear him type something on an old keyboard, each tap of his fingers obnoxiously loud. "I'm going to give you the opportunity of a lifetime—something this great, it needs no greeting."

You rub your nose, then the inside of your eyes filled with tiredness and exhaustion. She was needy tonight, you gave her two rounds, 140 minutes of a hard pounding until the clock struck a merciless 3am. Yes, you were counting the minutes, it was necessary. Otherwise Jiwon’s cunt would have drained you early, which is unbecoming of a porn actor of your caliber.

"Look," you halt the director's enthusiasm with a groan. "I'm doing good right now. Money—I got enough; my love-life is good too. Maybe I'll take a break for a couple of months until my next—"

"No, listen!" he shouts in absolute excitement, like he has been enlightened by the truth. "This script, it's so fucking good! It lit a fire in me, I can already see the setting, the actresses, you—it's perfect. This can even top your Labyrinth performance—you remember, the six hotties—"

"Of course I do!" There you go. Your heart beat is picking up in tempo. How could you forget the pleasure, the absolute thrill of having sex with six gorgeous women at the same time? Don’t kid yourself, this already felt like one in a million—to flat out reject another offer that could be of this magnitude would be absolutely foolish. “Fuck it. Send me the script, I’ll get back to you.”

“Oh, you will,” the director says, absolutely certain that you will accept in a heartbeat after reading this ominous script. “I’ll start looking for actresses.”

#

The script is complex, wild, otherworldly—implementing it took weeks of preparation. Luckily, your part in this clusterfuck is rather simple: be hard, go hard and stay hard. The first two are deeply rooted within you. Seeing the girls’ incredible faces and even greater bodies has you ready to get a raging erection at any time, while some of their slutty mannerisms and lewd words dripping from their tongues like venomous drool urge you to go as hard and rough as you can. Hell, they’ll basically beg for you—why would you hold back?

The only issue is that there are too many of them. No matter how hot they are or how horny you are, at some point there is nothing left. You will be drained and there is no shame in admitting defeat to them. So once again, you’ll have to resort to some performance enhancers to stay hard like a diamond while drilling into cave after cave. It’s a pink pill this time, tiny, you barely notice it, both in the palm of your hand and in your throat. Take a deep breath and feel it surely doing its job already. 

You open your eyes in the midst of a studio room that looks like a submarine. Dim light, large, black holes around you, each with a large porthole-like door in the middle; it feels gloomy, mysterious, unsettling. A single camera is pointed at you, live streaming each droplet of sweat running down your face. Feel the artificial warmth of a nearby heater creep up your thin clothes, giving you chills. It cannot match the heat within you.

The red light atop the camera turns off. Sixty seconds from now, one of the portholes will open. The glass in them is blurry, obscuring any view of the chaos happening behind them. You of course know the script inside out, but the girls’ are still somewhat unknown. You’ve never seen them face to face, only in zoom calls, their bodies looked fantastic and because they are rookies, they should also be tight, but you don’t know how they will handle the pressure, all the eyes on them, the revealing outfits, the unbridled sex—

Around thirty seconds now. You grab your trousers and feel blood rushing out of your legs. Feet tingle, the tips of your fingers as well. This pill, it has your heart racing somewhere, racing from something, to anything. Eyes tremble, vision blurrier than the glass before you, behind you, around you. 

You’ve never felt more alive and dead at the same time.

With a loud hiss, the porthole to your left swings open, wide open, flooding your entirely empty room with copious amounts of fog and the smell of fresh fruits. The vibrant color scheme of pastel pink, magenta, light purple and white fills your view as you step into what looks like Princess Peach’s private castle, its kitchen, living room and bedroom. It’s like one explosion of cuteness and innocence, quite charming, very fake.

“Oh, he’s already here. Look, Barbie!”

“That’s not my name, Yiren. Hello, handsome stranger!”

The two girls fit the concept of the room perfectly. Such bright smiles, happiness pouring from their cute little faces; you knew they would nail this performance the moment you saw their pictures and heard their voices. Wonyoung, the tall girl with her incredibly long legs truly looks like a Barbie doll: tiny ribbons adorn her endless chocolate hair while the pink crop top and straight denim skirt make you want to play with her all night, undress her everywhere.

Yiren on the other hand blends in with the room to such a degree, you’d assume they cannot be sold separately. The chinese girl boasts hair the color of peaches, her tight white dress sparkles because of small, silver details spread across it, while her face leaves no doubt that she is, in fact, a princess. 

The two get closer to you, before Wonyoung starts to speak up again, her voice in a sassy, yet genuinely adorable pitch.

“Aw, are you shy? No need to be, we’re all here to have fun. Isn’t that right, Yiren?”

“You’re right, Barbie. Let’s play some games and make it a night we won’t forget,” Yiren adds, quieter and calmer than Wonyoung, with a smile that warms the heart.

“S-sure,” you respond to the two girls bouncing up and down in front of you like hyped up kangaroos. “B-but what are we going to play?”

“You see,” Wonyoung starts. “Yiren and I are a team and we have a mission to fulfill. Can you help us?”

“I’d love to, but what is the mission?”

Yiren turns towards Wonyoung, who’s already grinning at her. They share a nod and Yiren suddenly wraps herself around one of your arms, while Wonyoung occupies the other. Feel their slender bodies rub on your limbs, their natural heat and rapid heartbeats working towards your own, increasing it with every step they guide you towards a bed in the corner of the room. It’s at least double queensized, filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

“Let me explain it to you,” Wonyoung says and climbs atop the purple sheets. “Our mission is to make this bed as wet as possible.”

“Well that sounds easy,” you respond. “Just get some tap water and dump it on here.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Yiren whispers in your ear and suddenly places her hands all over your back and chest. 

“No tap water, only natural juices are allowed,” Wonyoung hums and her hands casually open her skirt. It falls on the bed and she is quick to kick it away. She looks even more tempting and ruinable in her tiny tight panties with a wet teddy bear on the front. “We need your help to get these juices out of us, pretty please?”

“Yes, pretty please?” Yiren adds and cups the bulge in your pants. “It will be so much fun, I promise. Doesn’t Barbie look tight? Don’t you want to fuck her until she bursts?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Splendid,” Wonyoung laughs and throws away her crop top as well. Meanwhile Yiren finds the hem of your pants and tugs them down oh-so easily, the only resistance is your hard member, which Yiren promptly points at her team partner who has her legs spread invitingly. 

She’s so hot.

As if she read your mind, Yiren tempts you into finally going hard:

“She looks so hot. Go fuck her.”

Like a tiger desperate for food, you crawl onto the bed and tackle your prey into a mountain of teddy bears. Your fingers find the very specific teddy bear on Wonyoung’s panties, you push it to the side to find a pink slit. A final look at her glistening eyes before you press your cock onto her equally glistening slit and after some adjustments, you enter her. 

Wonyoung shrieks cutely, her thin fingers wrap around your biceps’ and she holds onto them as you start to slowly pump into her. The two of you need time to realize where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re doing it. All acting for the camera is gone in this bliss, at least for a couple of seconds. Then it all comes back with Yiren, eagerly who jumps on the bed as well.

“You need to hurry up, we don’t have forever.”

You slip a hand under Yiren’s dress to quickly shut her up. No panties.

“How about you start helping, princess,” you fight back. “Go rub Wonyoung’s clit while you ride my fingers. Oh, and Wonyoung.”

“Ye-yes?” the young girl moans.

“Open your mouth wide. I need you to drool on these.”

Both Yiren’s pussy lips and Wonyoung’s normal lips—though their lusciousness and thickness is far from mere ‘normal’—part as soon as your fingers graze them. The latter is quick to slobber all over them while you recklessly pump them into her; Yiren still has reservations and instead opts to look at you with adorable glassy eyes.

“I-I feel so full,” she moans, shivers throughout her entire body. You softly smile at her and start to curl your fingers, purposefully dragging them alongside her walls while your palm reaches her clit. “Ah, i-it feels—”

Holy shit. Whatever chemical they put into this pill, it has a tendency to just kill your patience. In what can only be described as a loss of all control, your body only moves towards fulfilling the mission. Your fingers start to violently pump into Yiren’s pussy and Wonyoung’s mouth, both quickly spilling liquids out of them. Especially Wonyoung, the Barbie girl below you, becomes a dispenser of juices when you violently fuck into her tight pussy.

“Too fast, ah!” Yiren screams, her hands wrapped around your wrist, unable to prevent the surge of lust in your body. 

“Fuck, sorry. I can’t stop me.” You groan, not really sorry about the stuff happening to you, to them and—oh God! Wonyoung’s tiny frame, those cute hard abs, get bulged by your massive erection. A bit of skin and muscles, pushed up by your relentless thrusts, and she is also seeing it. Is she panicking, losing her mind to how you violate almost her entire body?

Her pussy is quick to give you an answer: like a broken, public fountain, she shoots water at you, suddenly soaking your body in her warm pussy juices. With their strong, lewd smell they are the perfect liquid to stain the sheets, more than your balls or her drool can produce. Much to your dismay, most of the nectar gets stuck on you. 

“Fuck, turn around,” you command the thin fuckdoll and because she is too enamored by her heavy orgasm—her tiny thighs and long legs trembling up high in the air—you grab her hips and spin her around. Now in Doggy, you keep her upright by pulling her chestnut colored hair and plunge back into her still twitching cunt.

Wonyoung is completely overwhelmed. Instead of the cute, girlie moans you’d expect from her pretty lips, she grunts uncontrollably, her voice still hoarse from your fingers that played with her mouth. The grunts, however, are nothing compared to the wet sounds coming from her pussy as you thrust into the warm cavern, desperate to get more out of it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” both you and Wonyoung groan. The tips of her fingers dig deep into a soft stuffed toy while yours knead her soft butt. The sight of it is amazing; not a big dumpy, like you’ve seen on countless actresses, but so flawlessly smooth with an impossibly tiny asshole you one day need to get your tongue into.

“Pl-please, me-me too.”

Yiren crawls closer to you, her skirt pulled up, her cunt a leaking mess that needs something inside it. The live action fucking in front of her has her on the edge, ready to do her part to fulfill the mission, but you are too mesmerized by Wonyoung. 

“Wony, lick her pussy. Get your tongue into her, fuck!” you shout, lost in your frenzy.

The barely thinking, barely functioning Barbie gets her hands onto Yiren’s thighs, at first only breathing, hissing, moaning into the princess’ crotch. It’s enough for Yiren to finally take the lead, forcing Wonyoung’s face straight onto her puffy lips, and the younger surrenders. She kisses and licks all over Yiren’s delicious cunt, the bundle of nerves atop it never left out. Yiren shudders.

“Oh God, oh Go~d, fuck!”

Yiren is louder than a fucking bomb when she explodes onto Wonyoung’s face and more importantly, the bed. Her nectar splashes all over the sheets, their color darkening beneath her knees. Finally, the three of you have made significant progress, and you are eager to make more. Especially Wonyoung seems to be more turned on than before; her pussy is even tighter, her walls ripple as she continues to eat Yiren out. 

“You like that, huh? Your face deep in her pussy?” you ask her and give her cute ass a firm spank. “Such a dirty princess!” 

“Yesh!” Wonyoung shouts, pressing her behind into your pistoning cock. 

“You like my cock fucking you senseless, getting into your insides? You want it all, deeper?”

“Yesh, pleash!”

“Try to push me out, Wonyoung, squeeze me with your stupid little pussy!”

“Ah, shit, fuck! I’m—”

Yiren shuts her team partner up by grinding on her face. It’s enough to send Wonyoung into an orgasmic frenzy—again—and the moment you pull out, she squirts—again—everywhere. It was amazing, absolute bliss for you, but you are not there yet. You need to cum, inside a hot, clenching hole and so you disrupt the two princess’ love making.

Yiren fits perfectly into your hand. She is almost as light as Wonyoung, so you pick her up and place her on the head of the bed. The young woman is still frozen in surprise, her eyes uncertain, then shocked when you spread her legs wide and align your cock with her pussy.

“Oh God, it’s t-too big,” she whines even before you’re inside her.

“You can take it, Yiren, you’re such a good and pretty princess,” you mindlessly groan as you stare at her, then her nipple peeking out above her increasingly bunched up dress. “Now cum all over me.”

Yiren is too easy. Only a few strokes of your cock alongside her velvety walls and her entire body ripples. It starts with her cunt, soon goes to her torso and limbs, before she squirts like a broken garden hose. If the bed was a garden, countless flowers would bloom in it—and Wonyoung wants to make sure you stay to help them. 

“You have to stay,” she whines. “Stay inside her and make her cum again.” She pushes you, forces you to almost slip inside Yiren again. From the corner of your eye however you see a red light, the indicator that you have to switch scenes right now.

“I think I did enough.” You pull away Wonyoung’s slender arms and Yiren’s feet trying to get you back inside her. “Get some toys or use your fingers. I’m not playing for your team, you need to play together.”

Yeah, sure, something like that was in the script. Luckily, even these two remember that the show must go on. At least Wonyoung does. The Barbie gets handsy, waving you goodbye while plunging her beautiful, long fingers into Yiren's cunt. What a waste that you won’t cum on those digits tonight.

"Have fun~" Wonyoung cheers as you disappear from her view, towards the next porthole which is already open.

Before you can take in the next setting fully, a nude, masked woman greets you by pulling your face down into her sizable cleavage.

"Quick, get him in here," another voice, feminine yet deep, straightforward yet mysterious, calls and you feel hands all over your body, as they drag you into the room. You only catch glimpses of its interior, a dark, unsettling dungeon with iron bars and cold, smooth walls, akin to the setting of certain Japanese videos you—a friend of yours—used to watch—for scientific reasons.

"Here, pin him down."

That voice just now is truly incredible, if only you could see who it belongs to. Unluckily, you only get to see the ceiling as four hands throw you onto a table. Those two are strong, you think, because your back hurts at the impact.

Suddenly, your view gets replaced by a smooth pussy and jiggly thighs trapping your head on the wooden surface. You take deep breaths, the strong smell of arousal quickly filling your nose. A finger boldly flicks your cockhead.

"Oh, you're really turning him on, Gah," the other woman says, your pulsating cock in her fist. "Ride his face, and I think we’ll get our first points soon."

"Wh-who are you?" you barely squeeze out, words drowned out by drowning in Gahyeon's pussy juice.

"I'm Swan, but we don't have time for that. We need to win this game, which is why you have to suffer.

"Sorry, by the way."

Before you can respond, Swan's fist goes up and down your length with the violence and speed of a raging tiger, ready to fucking destroy you. Tears spawn in your eyes, precum at your tip. She drives you to the edge and keeps you there with rhythmic pumps while you imagine her face in horny delight.

"Is he there yet?" Gahyeon asks, her voice raspy and cruel.

"Why don't you ask him?" Swan responds and twirls her tongue around your balls. You twitch.

Gahyeon lifts a leg and her deadly eyes stare through a terrifying mask right at you. "Tell me when you're about to explode,” she snarks and to put emphasis on her following words, she presses a long finger nail into your abdomen. “If not, I'll kill you.

“And start licking, for fucks sake.”

She plants herself back down before you can answer. She can live with your eager tongue on her thick folds as an analogical agreement. Through Gahyeon’s almost soundproof thighs you hear her passionate groans and Swan’s continuous spitting in her hands and on your cock to get you wet and ready for more of her soft hands. 

You can’t deny that they are excellent. Yiren and Wonyoung both had tight, cozy holes, but something about Swan grabbing your dick and mercilessly pumping and twisting it makes your spine tingle. She quickly gets you to arch your back and moan into Gahyeon’s pussy, which has started to glide back and forth over your visage.

“Such a nice cock,” Swan moans. “Look at it, Gah! The head is already burning, I can feel that he’s close.”

Swan puts her second hand on your base and presses her lubed up palm on your underside while she starts to destroy your tip with violent pumps. She is a vicious succubus, trying to get your seed out efficiently without care for your sensitivity. With Gahyeon using your face like a saddle, your mind is left on hold when you loudly tap the table to signal your imminent arrival.

“Swan, now!”

The moment Gahyeon shouts, Swan is gone. No more delicate fingers to hold you, no more fists to jerk you, nothing to stimulate you. You thrust your hips up into air, unable to cum, unable to get your well-deserved release. Those fleeting seconds where you want only one thing are absolutely ruined by not getting this one thing—and then it’s over. You come back down with a devastated sigh. 

“That’s one,” Gahyeon says and looks down at you in between her legs. “But we need more.”

“I agree,” Swan says, adjusting her position in between your shivering legs. “Get him to cooperate, I’ll do the rest.”

Gahyeon once again is faster than your attempts at remonstration. She puts her small hand on your throat and carefully increases the amount of weight on it. You gasp in dread before Swan places your still hard cock in the valley of her enormous tits. The valley then turns to a compressed trap where only your glans peeks out. 

'Oh fuck', you want to, need to scream but it's futile with Gahyeon's enthusiasm to rub her labia on your lips. Swan shows a very similar need to torture you, her hands eagerly digging into the flesh of her melons and moving them up and down—both at the same time, then at different times, faster, then slower but with more pressure—is she trying to get you killed? 

Death by titfuck. That will be an eyecatching epitaph. 

"Do it faster," Gahyeon orders her teammate emphatically. "We need to get the score up."

"I know," Swan says, her voice a bit strained. "It's just unfair, you know? Getting him ready again and all that. But I think, fuck, we’re getting there. Look at his tip, isn't it cute?"

Swan licks the slit on your cockhead, cleaning the precum from it and you have to tap out again. You are so close once more, but a terrible gut feeling lets you doubt that you will cover Swan's tits with your cream. You’ve never felt so sick about being right, when she pops you free from the heavens between her large breasts.

They are right there, God dammit.

"That's number two!" Swan gleefully shouts and looks at your pole, pointing at the sky, sensitive and ready to explode, but your balls turn blue again. This can't be healthy, with how frustrated it makes you.

"Use your mouth this time, Swan—"

"Oh yeah? Why don't you do something for once?"

"Huh? We agreed on this earlier! I'm doing my part! Look, he can't even say a word."

"Pl-please," you interrupt the girls' discussion. "Let me, please, let me cum already!"

"Sorry, pal." Swan's voice is soft, and her tongue on your dick is even softer. "But we need to ruin you even more. That's how we're going to win."

"Th-then ruin your own orgasms," you plead with numbness in your mouth, caused by Swan's mouth on your barely numb manhood. "Th-this is cruel."

"He's got a point," Gahyeon thinks out loud. "Ah, fuck this game. If you can get me close, boy, I'll let you escape."

This might be your only chance to get out of this vicious cycle of ruined orgasm and painful edging. So you actually channel all your focus of your lips, tongue and teeth—whatever Gahyeon likes—on her clit. It's surprisingly easy to make her thighs around your ears squirm; Gahyeon's pussy is now wetter than Swan's mouth wrapped around your cockhead.

Suddenly, Swan gives you everything. She forces you to bottom out in her mouth, grow to full hardness once more while she violently gags. She might have been in absolute control over you for the last couple of minutes, but she is perfectly able to make her mouth a slutty hole for your cock. A soft, dominant deepthroat queen with massive tits—she is going to be a super star.

In a surge of ecstasy, fueled by Gahyeon's sweet juice, you buckle your hips upwards and force Swan to choke a little longer on your length. The young woman is not irritated however. After a single breathe she is back to going up and down you cock, sucking along it until your fucking dead. 

You know she's going to ruin it again and the only way to pay them back is by ruining Gahyeon's orgasm as well. You finger the pussy above you and quickly flick the blood-filled lips and nub, until she cries out. Then you stop, then Swan stops. She is the only one satisfied—another two points for her team.

You blink a couple of times. Gahyeon, groaning like an enraged bull, has the busty Swan pinned to the metal bars of this dungeon and with all her hatred, slaps the younger's wet cunt.

"Now it's your turn, bitch!"

"Ouch, stop!"

"No. I want to win and you want to win too, so you better ruin yourself on my fingers. Now!"

This is your cue to leave. The dungeon fills with Swan's deep grunts and groans as she finally gets to witness what she put you through again and again and again. You'd love to help Gahyeon; there will be no need for it though. The masked girl is willing to do whatever is necessary to win.

Across from the dungeon, the second to last door is already open. The room mimics a dimly lit laundromat with a dozen or so washing machines. You step inside, cock in your carefully stroking hand. After all, you’ll have to be hard for the next scene, which will be the complete opposite of the last. 

“Hello? Can somebody help me?” someone cries (let’s be honest, it’s much closer to a desperate moan) from behind a pile of freshly dried laundry atop a clothes rack. There is a sincere lack of intelligence in that cry, like said person is unable to help themselves. Makes you feel chivalrous. 

“Hey, how can I—help you?”

The sight you find behind the pile has your speech a bit halted, interrupted by how, in a room made for washing clothes, someone is severely lacking them: A gorgeous, busty blonde, in nothing but modest, white underwear, though you notice that the bra is at least a size too small and unable to fully carry the weight of her tits.

"Oh, please help me," she moans again. "I think I've picked the wrong bra for me. Can you help me cover so no one can see my boobies while I look for the next?"

What the fuck? This is so fucking stupid on so many levels. How could she—and why would she suggest—what is even happening? The cliche about blondes must be true, because this one is not only dumb as fuck, but also hotness at it's peak. From bust to bottom, no, even to her toes, her body is amazing and tempting.

"Uhm, sure, why not. Can I know your name first?" you politely ask while not so politely getting behind her and cupping her breasts.

"I'm Somi. Thank God your hands are so big, no one can see my boobies now, hihi."

Is it innate for her to sound this silly? If not for this setting, you’d be worried; no human can ever be this stupid, only a buffoon would act in such a way. But maybe Somi’s IQ is just a bit lower than the average person—or maybe she knows no boundaries? The rules of public decency and inappropriate, sexual exposure might be foreign to her? You don’t know. You just know that her boobs are soft and bouncy, two handfuls of pillows to rest your head upon, of stress balls to knead when you are, you know, stressed.

You seem to know a lot more than her, especially because she still tries to find a bra able to hold up her breasts in the midst of clothes which all have two things in common: they are colorful and they are skimpy. It’s like the laundry of a whorehouse with how many short and skin tight skirts, dresses, fishnet stockings you find, let alone the short tops or all the lingerie. Speaking of which, Somi has finally found a bikini top that might be able to do the deed your hands are gleefully doing. 

“Do you think this one is good?” she asks, holding up a new, purple bra while you slightly press at the bottom of her tits to watch them wobble on your finger tips. 

“Try it out, because I’m not so sure with your massive boobs.”

Somi giggles and tries to put on the bra. You leave enough room, really, you do, for her to tie up the thin strands, but Somi is unable to. She mewls a couple of times before you go in and securely tie up the strands yourself. You are promptly rewarded, because the blonde decides to bend down and press her ass back against your crotch, your exposed cock, rapidly hard again at the touch of her cotton panties. 

“Thank you, again,” Somi says and pushes her chest up for all to see. “What do you think, is this good?”

“Somi, is it possible that you are fucking stupid?” Oh, that sounded a lot harsher than it should have. The tension is quickly palpable. You hear someone gasp from the other end of the room.

“W-why?” Somi’s question is abashed, a bit shocked; even in this state of complete bimboness, she still looks so good. 

“Because these bottoms don’t fit your top,” you say and pull at the side of her panties until they snap off of her hips. “You should change them. White and purple don’t fit together all too well.”

Somi looks down at her cleavage, the purple lace engulfing her tits, then to her thighs which have been parted by your cock. The tip peaks from in between her legs and you softly groan out the pleasure her perfect gap gives you into her ear. There is no mere hint of slickness from her heat, there are ridiculous amounts of evidence of it, proof spreading all over. It’s a clear case of horniness, you better resolve the issue immediately. 

“You’re right,” Somi mumbles, thighs swaying. “I should look for the right bottoms. They should be in here.” Things couldn’t get any better, because now Somi is bending over, hands in the pile of clothes, while your hands are in the plentifulness of her ass. You hold her steady, align your cock with a hole that looks so ready to get fucked and then push forward. Somi almost stumbles forward, but you save her from making an even greater mess of this place by continuing to make a mess out of her. 

“Oh God,” she moans, a pink crop top in hands. “I-I can’t find it.”

“Continue, continue searching,” you groan back and slam your hips forward, then backwards, your cock entering and exiting her cunt at will—your will is strong, overpowering every small exhaustion in chase of that first true release of this messy pornographic shoot, a shoot where teams fight to win, yet this “team” does not even have a target goal.

Somi’s goal is to be stupid, oblivious to your cock gaping her pussy open time and time again, and for this being her first time on cam, she is excellent. Of course, her dumb moans can’t be deactivated, you doubt even a ball gag can fully do that, but a benevolent interpretation of this scene allows for these moans to be of desperation. Somi just really wants to find these purple bikini bottoms—your cock spreading her pussy and the camera lens on it is just a side product. 

“Da-damnit, fuck,” Somi seems to give up, defeatedly grabbing the edge of the table while you hold onto her shoulders to get faster, deeper inside of her. “They are not h-here.”

“Maybe you need to take a step back and look at it from afar,” you tell her and all it takes is a pull at her shoulders and Somi stands straight up. From now on, your thrusts go upwards and Somi can casually bounce along while her dizzy eyes try to process the color purple amidst a pile so colorful, every pride parade would become envious. 

Your arms instinctively wrap around Somi’s small waist. You need to keep her here, can’t let her get away, not when you are this close to finally cumming. Your balls are aching, your tip is stimulated and you know that it will be glorious. Somi’s body, from a face that could make news just for its beauty, paired with a pair of perky, large boobs, amplified by a tight, muscular midriff, killer hips and strong, full thighs, she has to be everyone’s type. 

People will click on her videos millions of times, yet you are about to be the first to cream her, you can call dibs on that pussy, no male rival co-star stands a chance. Your cock is ready, your legs able to give more power into the final thrusts when suddenly—

“Oh, I found it!”

—Somi leans forward, hand stretched out, ready to grab what has always been on top of this entire pile, in your view forever, in everyone’s view forever, only Somi took forever to find it: purple panties. No, they can’t ruin your perfect orgasm. You heartlessly push Somi against the table, head first into the laundry. Her scream now muffled by a dozen of clothes in her face, you manically fuck your load into her doggy until cum floods her cavern and clothes flood the laundromat floor.

Every part of you is twitching, so is Somi and her pussy. A bit more, a bit more, she squeezes out of you, but she is full. In the midst of all this chaos, this silly, flushed bitch was able to grab the panties. You give her tits a harsh slap to awaken her from the cock induced slumber. 

“Put them on, quick, before we make a bigger mess.”

Somi obliges, though shaky. You help her by holding onto her hips, her tits, all those things you could grab forever. When your shaft falls out of her pussy and you watch her catch most of your load with the tight panties, you want to push them to the side and just fuck her full pussy again. That’s when you notice someone down the aisle of washing machines—is it Somi’s teammate?

“Who the fuck is th—”

“Help, I’m stuck!”

This one is a classic. A trope so beyond stereotypical, everyone knows it. Just like the dumb blonde, this one can be found on every porn site ever. The only thing missing is that she calls you stepbro. That would be a bit too much though. Her ass sticking out of one of the washing machines while she absolutely tries to get back out of it is already cliche enough to you.

Oh yeah, she’s also completely naked.

“Oh no, Yuna is stuck!” Somi states the exposition for the viewer, who is utterly uninvolved in the engaging plot they stopped paying attention to since this video's thumbnail. “We need to help her!”

Somi waddles towards her partner. You see trails of cum running down her legs,  unceremoniously dropping to the floor and making a lewd, sticky mess of it. She seems unbothered, just like you, and the camera absolutely loves it. The view then switches from this to a new, exposed and impressively large ass.

“Help, help,” Yuna shouts again, metallic reverberation unable to dampen the stupidness in her voice. You had filmed a scene like this one already, but there are no complaints whatsoever. As long as you can get your hands on Yuna’s ass, pull those cheeks apart and get the first view of those two smooth, clean holes, why would you complain?

“How did this happen, Yuna?” Somi asks worriedly, arms alongside Yuna’s frame, definitely ‘pulling’ on her teammate's waist, while your mind imagines all the ways you could rim Yuna for hours.

“I wanted to pull my underwear out of here,” she responds with a whine. “But now I am stuck!”

Go figure, she is brainless as well. Both of them are, but nature has instead given them the envy of millions of women: divine bodies that are effortlessly sexy and beautiful. Smooth skin, toned legs, curves to die for—in your admiration you notice that your energy is returning quicker than ever before. 

It might not fit the story, the narrative, the game, but in this moment of bliss, you couldn’t care less. Knees bend, cock guided by your thumb, you press your tip against Yuna’s ring and find the entry into her asshole to be a lot easier than expected. Her moan bounces through the washing machine just like her boobs bounce in surprise. 

Confusion has Somi frozen, her body only reacting when you put force in your thrusts, enough power to make Yuna hit her dumb head against the back of the washing drum. A profuse whimper made metallic, not that you care, but Somi seems to get back into the real world where she is still as moronic as before. 

“H-how is this supposed to help Yuna?” 

It’s not. Tell her that. Tell her and Somi will continue complaining like this without getting any pleasure from you. Serves her right, won’t make the scene any better though, thus you find her neck with your hand and find her eyes with yours. They sparkle knowingly. 

“You really are the dumbest thing alive.”

A pull and Yuna is out of the drum. Blonde hair flows down her back, hides her frail shoulders and in the reflection of the metal drum you see her lips in a light, glistening pink. They are full and made for sucking. In the sea of her endless, golden hair, your hand twists and twists until Yuna voluntarily raises herself from the ground and arches her back towards you. Your goal is not to kiss her lips (though that would be one hell of an experience) but to drown her in Somi’s cleavage.

“What are you—Yuna! No, don’t pull it down, I-I just found it.”

Sweat evaporates from your temple when you see those lips wrap around one of Somi’s nipples and begin to lewdly suck on it. The thrill is engaging, Yuna’s ass invites you back in and it’s with ease that you fuck her puckered hole. You poke the depths of this suffocating cavern and Yuna begins to poke all over Somi’s body. The dumber blonde hesitates briefly, hands first on her thighs, then Yuna’s until she ends up below her friend. 

“Now you are trapped,” Yuna giggles and drool leaves her mouth in purposefully large amounts, able to transform the valley between Somi’s tits into a canal. 

“You two are so fucking stupid, fuck, fuck your hot bodies.”

You are starting to lose it, for every word they utter, your intelligence gets insulted but your arousal heightened. You spank Yuna’s ass and she tightens to the point where you need to give it your all to fuck her faster. What an odd time to notice that they haven’t told you their task yet. How can you help them get points? Shit, what was in the script again? Are you really that much smarter if you can’t remember?

“Yuna, Yuna, that feels so good,” Somi moans out and sways on the floor from side to side until you press Yuna right on top of her. With their incredible bodies entangled and you nonstop fucking into the tight ass, their sensitive spots have to rub each other, nipples on nipples, clits on clits, and Somi is the first to collapse. “Oh my God, I-I’m about to wet my panties, oh no, Yuna!”

“Me too, my butt, I’m going to cum from my butt!” Yuna’s silly fucked body, and her silly face and her silly feminine voice have you on the verge to become silly as well. Both blonde’s indulge in their wet, heavy orgasms and you push your tip back into Yuna so many times that you flood her with a pent up load that momentarily shuts down your brain.

So this is how they feel all the time—brainless but blissful. At least stupid bitches fuck good.

“Oh, Somi, there, there is so much in my ass~”

“Really? Can I feel it?”

Somi puts two fingers against Yuna’s puckered hole, but before she can get a scoop of your load that is still hidden in the tightly clenching butt, Yuna stands up. “No, Somi, ew,” Yuna shouts, moans, something in between, again. “You have to eat it straight from the butt, like this.”

You are back in the hub room, all the rooms finally open. Before you make your way to the last room, you decide to take a quick look into each scene you’ve already participated in that only users that buy the premium pass (which is off 69%, only today on k-jizzers.cum) can still watch: 

In the first room, Wonyoung and Yiren sit on the edge of the bed, fingering each other's pussies until they violently squirt all over the mattress. Both of them look sweaty and exhausted, but they continue to drink water and share saliva to go for another round. Stay hydrated, everyone.

“Let’s do this, Barbie, I know your tiny body can cum again!”

“O-okay, b-but only if you kiss me.”

In the second room, Swan is fully naked, her backside turned to you. She is tied to the metal bars with handcuffs on both of her wrists. Below her is Gahyeon, thrusting a dildo up into that tiny tight cunt, while her own hole is stuffed with a loud bullet vibrator. They are really committed to this game.

“I swear, Swan, if you cum again, I’ll kick your ass, literally!”

“S-sorry, Mommy, I try, try, try—I’m so close!”

In the third room, well, those blondes finally found a way to snowball your cum, not from mouth to mouth, but ass to mouth. Yuna sits on Somi’s face, head thrown back, unable to not moan as your white spunk oozes out of her. Bon Appetit. 

“Oh God, don’t put your tongue in!”

“But he tastes so good, let me be greedy this one time.”

The final room is a classroom, unmistakably. It has an old blackboard, a long desk for the teacher, smaller desks and chairs for the pupils. No matter when or where you’ve been to school, this will surely evoke memories of forgotten homework, endless lessons and bratty students.

 “Ew, is that the new guy?” you hear someone complain from across the room, disgust in her voice, fingernails rapidly typing on her phone. 

“Oh yeah, but what did you expect? At least he gives some big dick energy,” a response follows promptly, though this time they both look up from their phones and stare at you. You quickly find coverage behind the teachers desk to hide your manhood. A miserable attempt that has one of the girls outraged. 

“Ayo, what the fuck? Do you think you’re some kind of teacher now?”

“Maybe he is here to teach us a lesson, lol.”

Did the girl on the left, in her messed up blouse and way-too-short checkered skirt, the waistband of a light brown thong on display, just like her midriff and navel—did she just say ‘lol’ out loud? Well, at this point the viewer will neither cringe or notice, too good is this material, too hot their bodies. 

“Maybe he is here to teach you a lesson for breaking the dress code,” the girl adds as she approaches the desk. 

“Yeri, you—you’re worse than me! Everyone can see your bra, what the fuck,” the other girl shouts and goes in for a slap on Yeri’s butt. The impact has you peeking out as a small melee breaks out.

“At least I tried, Yeojin, unlike you. Where is your skirt, your blouse? I can almost see your tits.” Yeri reaches for Yeojin’s chest, which is covered by this tiny, one piece swimsuit, so tiny in fact, even Yeojin’s small body seems to spill out of it. When there is so much shortness, of course Yeojin’s shorts are no different. Her shorts are actually shorter than Yeri’s skirt, which is already quite short—

“You tried?” Yeojin shrieks and tugs at Yeri’s blouse, accidentally undressing her. Who could have known, the bra below is actually a bikini top. “It’s falling off of your body.”

“Ts,

“Hey, you fucker! Get out already, we got some beef to settle.”

Yeri kicks the desk and you hear pencils roll down from it. They surely have not forgotten about you and your assumed big dick energy, so it was no use to continue hiding. You crawl out and straighten your posture, clearly taller than the two young women who don’t waste time looking up and gawking at the height difference. Both sets of hands go straight to your abdomen, your crotch, your cock. Yeojin is the first to pump, rubbing her fishnet sleeves carelessly over your sensitive tip.

“Watch it,” you hiss and get fistfuls of their hair, which to your surprise does not faze them at all. “You two are running your mouth, spewing bullshit. This is no way how you should treat people older and taller than you.”

Yeri frees herself easily from your grasp and you gasp when her knuckles dig into your stomach. It wasn’t really a punch, but somehow, she has you stunned. A smirk appears on her feisty features. “Watch it, asshole. This is our classroom, you’re the one below us. If you want some respect, don’t flex with your height. Flex with something else. Proof your worth.”

“O-oh yeah? And how should I do this?”

“Fuck us,” Yeojin casually says and pulls back the skin on your cock to the point it hurts and all the surging blood forces you to peak stiffness. “You get points for every position, the more creative, the better. Show us that this thing is more ‘do-er’ than ‘show-er’.”

Their eyes are the epitome of ‘fuck-me’ eyes, hell, they imagined fucked you the moment you entered, and in your mind, you’ve fucked them in every conceivable way possible. With all this imaginary fuckery, it’s about due time for the real fucking to start, though it’s definitely bugging you that these small, bratty girls get to start it off and lead the way. 

Guess your positions have to be rough.

“Fine,” you sigh and get ready to push Yeojin down to her knees, but there is no need. She takes the short fall and her lips aggressively wrap around your tip before you can overthink your decision. 

“No need to agree, it wasn’t up to you anyway,” Yeri laughs and you feel her fingers roam your upper body, everything from butt, back, nape to stomach and chest. She lingers there for a long time, cupping your pecs while you imagine cupping her surprisingly big tits—then Yeri dives in and starts to suck one of your nipples, while Yeojin bops her head back and forth. 

“You tiny bitches.” They make it hard to breathe, their sluttiness and sloppiness is excellent, their enthusiasm matches that of Wonyoung. “You greedy, evil little things. You’ll regret that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Yeojin moans when your cock pops from her luscious lips and you’re back to receiving harsh, painful pumps from her fishnet clad hands. “What’s stopping you, huh?”

Nothing, really, so you don’t keep them waiting any longer. You reach into the back of Yeri’s bikini bottoms while simultaneously finding a good grip on Yeojin’s ponytail. A bit of adjusting on both ends, suddenly there is nothing but sounds of horniness, of rampant, uncensored sex. Well, there is of course a lot more than that, but who could think of anything else—

—but Yeojin’s cock-sucking lips sucking cock. They are the only thick thing on this miniscule rookie pornstar. You jerk your hips forward and her nose meets your base. You keep it that way as her tight throat struggles with your size and saliva spills from her lips. 

Yeojin’s gags seem to turn on Yeri, her wet pussy dripping on your fingers as you rub it, never too fast, to keep her on the edge to—yeah, teach her a lesson. Look at that needy face, that heaving bosom, she is so desperate for more stimulation, but could never admit to it. Yeri’s pride keeps her from begging for your fingers to twirl inside her cunt.

“Is that really how you want to do it?” That’s as close to a beg as you will get from Yeri, nonetheless, you’ll give her more rubs. All this struggle is unbeknownst to the viewer, who can only see Yeri’ ecstatic face and wide open mouth as you finally insert two digits in her cunt. “That’s better, fuck.”

“Ride my fingers, Yeri. Impress me, and I’ll fuck you on the desk.”

“You, you will either way,” she chirps back, voice about to break when you thrust knuckles deep and curl, all while making Yeojin your sex doll. 

Those gags of hers have become too dangerous though, so you take a step back and intensely watch as Yeojin coughs up lots and lots of saliva, letting it run down her pretty little face, her throat that was just stuffed like some obscene christmas chicken. In disbelief you watch her wipe her tears away and grin on, as if she wasn't just fighting for her life. Nothing can get Yeojin down, her brattiness is unreal.

Yeri does not seem amused at the lack of attention you give her. She pulls your hand out of her pussy and waddles towards the desk. In a burst of creativity, you grab her and slam her on the desk, on her back. Yeri winces in pain, but you already have her entrance exposed and filled before she can complain. And complain, she shall never again.

“Fuck, so big, be ca-care-ful!”

“Now that’s—oh God, you’re tight—now that’s not what I expected from you,” you groan manically, as you pin Yeri down with both your eyes and hands. “Shut up and take it. I want to see your tits bounce.”

Out of nowhere, Yeojin’s thin hand creeps under the thin string of Yeri’s bikini top and pulls it off. Finally, you can see those modest breasts swing freely while you do what you’re best at: plunging your fat cock into a wet cunt. Yeri moans, in a deep craze, deep pleasure, her hips grind in circles so you have to pin her down harder, hands in the soft flesh above those hips—just fuck faster and lose your mind.

“Yeri, your pussy looks so full,” Yeojin giggles and brushes stray hair out of her friend’s ecstatic face. “Don’t tell me you’re already about to cum?”

“No-no, never—”

“Oh great, cuz I won’t let you,” you promptly say and pull out of that stretched hole, gaped and absolutely desperate for an orgasm that was right around the corner. A few more pumps and Yeri would have been gone, her first on cam climax was so close.

But now it’s Yeojin’s turn. After all you want those points—or is it their points? You don’t care, you just hook your arms underneath her thighs and pick her up. She’s as light as she looks and her pink cavern is as snug as you anticipate. Yeojin holds onto your neck for stability, while you split her open further and further and when she leans into you, you feel your cock bulge her.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s the spot.” Use Yeojin like a fleshlight, an upgrade to her sex doll mouth, and she surrenders to the pleasure. Wasn’t this supposed to be Team Bratty or something? This is more—

“Team Cockhungry, absolute sluts,” you shout at her but Yeojin is just mindless and her lips quiver anxiously whenever you’re not guiding her small body up and down your cock. “Yeri, get on the wall. Present your ass to me, if you want this cock again.”

Yeri nods, only focused on you. She needs a second to find orientation again, while you make Yeojin lose all orientation as you spin her around and fuck her full nelson. An insane idea by the producers, stand and carry sex for the finale, but with a girl this small, it’s actually possible. You are still the unrestrained engine that pistons and pistons until Yeojin is ready to burst.

“Not yet, not yet,” you coo as you ruin yet another orgasm. A wet pop when you remove yourself from what could be a perfect hole for cockwarming, breeding and many other lewd adventures. The industry will empty their pockets to get a video with this pocket pussy girl. But for now, she is all yours and quite dismayed.

“You, you dick, better make it up later,” Yeojin says, voice deeply judgemental. It has to be ignored, because first, you have to make it up for a certain someone who wasn’t satisfied with your fingers or a short missionary fuck. Yeri needs you again, deep and hard, while her fragile legs try to keep her upright.

You watch the side of her face, the lip bite, the palms flaking off the wallpaper, the thighs trapping you and your cock is already on her labia. Yeri rubs her love juice all over your rod and you follow her plea and take the lead with a thrust that can be heard around the world.

“Fuck, it’s deep, your cock is deep in my pussy.” The disbelief in her voice sounds genuine, just like the attempt to crawl up the wall to drop back down on your cock. Yeri wants you to hit her cervix, finally cumming all over you but you need to savor this position more.

“Deeper than anything else.” A hand in her hair, you press everything of her against the wall. “I know you like it deep, your best spots are there. You’re a slut for large cocks, you only want them while standing up.”

“No, I need them to pick me up! Lift me up and fuck me, break me open deeeeep!”

Yeri must have been so envious of Yeojin. You might have picked the wrong girl to lift on high and fill from below. You can still make it up though; Yeri’s tits are repurposed as handles to pull her back onto your chest, feet suddenly flying. You might be blinded by strands of her hair all over your face, but you can still feel the weight of Yeri down on your cock, while you’re still drilling into her. She is getting higher, not only physically, but mentally. She loves nothing more than to be watched while a huge shaft fucks her. The stimulation sends her into a sea of bliss, a deep ocean, like the puddle of girl cum beneath your feet. 

“I’m going to cum on your cock,” Yeri screams and tries to choke out a load from your balls, yet all she is choking you with is her hair on your face. “I love it, y-you can finish with me—”

The last time the camera captured someone cum so hard was about thirty minutes ago, either Wonyoung or Yiren, but unlike Team Princess next door, Yeri does it involuntarily. You pound the squirt out of her sloppy cunt until your legs become a slippery lubed mess and you almost slip on the cheap classroom floor. Yeri shouts and whines, the inside of her pussy still rippling when you pull out of it.

When you place Yeri back against the wall and feel the somewhat cold studio air brush past your erection, you realize that Yeri was close to getting you off too early. You are throbbing, surfing on the edge, almost getting blue balled. The only thing that can save you is Yeojin and the only thing you see is her ass, as she props herself up on all fours in between the chairs of—

Who counts chairs and who fucking cares? Just slam your cock into her ass and hear her screech in shock at the sudden fullness of her back entrance. There will be no ruined orgasm for you this time, Yeojin’s ass is your guarantee and you doubt her brattiness will return. Not when she moans so submissively. A question remains as you bury yourself repeatedly in Yeojin’s rectum: how can she be shocked when it's all lubed up and relaxed and eager to take you back inside like the pussy of a veteran porn star?

Yeojin really was born for this job. Her petite frame will be perfect for various porn sites related to kinks: size difference, stand and carry, small tits. The videos of her getting bulged will become legendary amongst the horniest or Reddit and Tumblr communities. Guys will have their way with her, her head will be spinning after some huge guys have her unconventionally spitroasted in the air or one of those tall, muscular women takes her for a ride on a strap-on. 

They won’t have to worry about anal from her, because Yeojin takes it legendarily, narrowing at just the right time to go beyond the audio-visual perfection that is her penetrated ass—in simpler words, it feels as good as it looks. She can rival Yuna or maybe form some butt slut dream team, that’s how fucking amazing fucking her ass is.

“Yeri get back here, I’m close,” you promptly announce whilst scoring again by forcing Yeojin into a prone position and marking her shoulders with tender bites. Yeri struggles to find footing, only able to push forward because of all the tables and chairs. When she finally reaches you, you give Yeojin your final pumps as her entire frame is struck by an orgasmic earthquake. 

In this day and age, everything has to be fast, even porn has to fit the 15 second shorts, reels, tiktok culture, so you start to cum in Yeojin and push Yeri to the ground at the same time. Then you reach for Yeri’s butt while holding back as many spurts as you can, to get her in this sweet piledriver and then paint both the outside and inside off her petite yet bubbly ass. It’s perfect for a short clip, that little teaser that plays when you’re about to click on the next JAV thumbnail on that shady site.

The HD or 4K settings across all screens can never do the real sight of a blissfully filled Yeri justice, as she eagerly spreads her own cheeks and everyone gets the awesome view of cum that seeps out of a gaped ass. The upside down (pretty, little, risky) baddie cleans off that hard-working cockwith her formerly bratty mouth. Deep exhales through her nose send a nice, warm stream of air around your base, which finally loses stiffness, the tension, it comes crashing down in the well-known post-nut clarity.

In this clarity however, you find Yeri’s final defiance; her lips will not let go of your cock and her tongue on your sensitive slit makes you curl your toes and whine out the agony which shoots up to your head like electric shocks. To top it all off, you feel Yeojin grin behind you when she wraps her slender arms around your midriff. This wasn’t in the script!

“The shooting might be over,” the tiny girl whispers. “But we are not done with you.”

“There are still a lot of points to be collected. 

“And you will collect all of them.”

[starogeorgina]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Corruption kink, loss of virginity, fingering, hand job, mention of blood.

Deep in thought you pace the floors of your bedchamber the cold floor below, pinching at the pads of your feet while you palm at your breasts. It was the hour of the eel, and the only light was from the candles and flickering flames of hearth.

“Byka mēre.” (Little one)

Startled, you use your hands to conceal your breasts. You look across the room and see a tall figure by the fireplace, “cousin.”

“Hmm,” he lets our disapproving tsk. “You should be asleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

He wasn’t wrong. Your father, Ser Gwayne, and yourself travelled to the red keep so he and Queen Alicent could find a suitable husband for you. It wasn’t uncommon for Aemond to visit you before settling for the night, but he usually didn’t come so late.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

Aemond ignores the question and finally turns to face you, his expression hard to read. In a stern tone, he asks, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Pirtirys.” (Liar.)

Frowning, you shake your head. You hated it when Aemond spoke in High Valyrian. He knew how badly you wanted to learn it since the histories of House Targaryen fascinated you, but as you grew up in OldTown and had Hightower blood, you never got the opportunity to learn about such things.

“Some may consider what you’re doing unbecoming of a young lady soon to be married.”

Feeling embarrassed, you look down at the ground. “I was told simulating your breasts makes them grow larger.”

“Oh,” he smiles at you mockingly. “And who told this?”

“A couple of my ladies... Why are you here so late?”

“Your breasts are in proportion to the rest of your body,” he says, ignoring your question. "Plus, I can tell when you are lying. So tell me, Why are you groping at yourself as if you’re putting on a show in a whorehouse?”

“I… I was told if a woman touches herself during sex it can bring her pleasure; I just wanted to see if it was true.”

“If you wish to know, you only needed to ask.”

Stepping forward Aemond lowers your hand and replaces it with his mouth. If anyone else had tried to touch you in such a way, you would have screamed, hit them, and ordered the knight standing guard outside your room to kill them.

But with Aemond, it was different.

The warmth from his tongue was a stark contrast to the feeling of your fingers. He takes one of your breasts into his mouth, teeth grazing soft flesh, sucking at your nipple. A small moan leaves your mouth, encouraging him to keep going.

A sudden knock at the door causes you to leap apart. Aemond leaves the room without saying anything, his head held high while you hurry to fix your nightgown for your handmaiden entering the room.

—

Aemond couldn’t get you out of his mind, his sweet younger cousin, his little one.

You were only a few years younger, but growing up, you were much smaller in height, which is why he gave you the nickname. All the teasing was in jest, of course; you were his favourite, and the prince could think of nothing worse than upsetting you. You had an innocence he had never seen in another person, even now that you had become a grown woman.

The more the Prince watches lords parade their sons, themselves or whoever the next male heir in their house was to his uncle Gwayne, he grew more and more irritated.

You were his beautiful, innocent girl; he wouldn’t allow for you to be ruined by some man unworthy of you.

He would be the one to marry you.

As far as the one-eyed prince was concerned, you were his to love and cherish, and he would be the one to take your maidenhood to seal the deal, making sure you were his forever. And in the back of his mind there may be a sick satisfaction knowing you would allow nobody else to touch you in the way he already has.

His sweet girl, all ready to be corrupted by him and only him.

—

The next few weeks were long and tiresome. Your father had paraded you around court while eagerly listening to every lord who came to him and said why they should be your husband. But none of them paid any mind to you, the bride.

However, Prince Ameond was a different matter. During the rare few hours you had, he would come and keep you company. He gifted you books of Targaryen history, a pearl necklace, and a silk dress that was similar in shade to his dragons scales. He even read poems to you.

And not once has he tried to touch you again. Perhaps almost being caught scared him, or he was no longer interested.

Aemond was reading while you practiced needlework in silence until a sudden thought crossed your mind. “Do you think of me as spoilt?”

“Jason Lannister is a cunt,” he says sharply. “He only referred to you as spoilt because your father refused his marriage proposal on the spot. Out of curiosity, what do you want in a husband?”

“I want a husband who pays attention to me like you do.”

He smirks, placing his book on the arm of the chair. Aemond waves for you to go over to him. “My lady, do you want a man like me, or do you want me?”

“I want you, my prince.”

When you stand in front of him, his hand immediately goes to your hip. “My uncle still has lots of lords to speak with, but I may know a way he would agree for us to be married immediately if that’s what you truly wanted.”

“What is it?”

“If you’re no longer a maiden, then Ser Gwayne would have no choice but to betroth us.”

“I would be dishonoured.”

“You would be married to a dragon.” His grip on your hips tightens. “I would be the only man ever filling your womb with their seed; no dishonour would be taking place.”

“Why do you want this?”

Aemond thinks hard before answering. The prince was completely obsessed with you, to the point it was borderline possessive. And from the moment you became of age to be married, he has been hounding his mother to arrange a marriage between the two of you, but as always, she put duty above all else and insisted on waiting to see who else asked for your hand, but Aemond couldn’t let that happen.

He’s silently for so long you start to grow nervous, “Aemond?”

“You are mine, little one, and always have been.”

Swallowing thickly, you step back out of his reach and remove the thin material covering your body, then move to straddle Aemond’s lap. “Then make me yours forever; claim me so no other man can have me.”

Aemond claims your lips with his own. With one leg on either side of his lap, Aemond lowers his hand underneath you with ease, using his finger to spread the small amount of wetness dripping from your folds to and drag it up to your clit. After a few moments, he urges you to move off him. Aemond lifts his hips and pulls his clothing down until his cock is free, then pulls you back onto his lap.

You look down at his penis, watching as precum forms a glistening tip on the head of his cock. Holding your gaze, Aemond guides your hand to slowly start stroking him.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “You are doing good; I’m going to prepare you now so that it doesn’t hurt so much.”

Your stomach clenches.

Aemond slides one long, slender finger inside you, then adds another. He pumps them back and forth while rubbing at your clit. You feel a weird sensation, like your core is starting to spasm. You still stroke at his cock, but your movements are now weaker than before.

“I feel weird,” you mumble.

“It’s okay, that’s good. Let the feeling take over.”

A few seconds later, you cum over his fingers, whimpering his name. “You’re doing so good,” Aemond withdraws his fingers from and lines his cock up. “I’ll try my best to take it slow.”

Placing one hand on your backside, Aemond holds you in place as he eases into you. Feeling the sting of his cock stretching you, you whine, “It’s too big!”

“Tis only the tip, little one. Rub your clit, it will only feel better.”

Doing as he says you start rubbing as Aemond pushes you down until his cock is completely inside you. It felt weird—a good weird. Aemond holds onto your hips again and starts to slowly move you up and down; you spread up the rubbing motions.

“I think I’m going to cum again.”

“Then cum for me,” he says before kissing you again.

You moan into his mouth when a similar feeling as before comes over you. Aemond’s thrusts become sloppy as he approaches his own peak, spilling his seed inside you.

After a few moments of kissing and Aemond stroking your back tenderly, you remove yourself from his lap. Glancing down between your legs, you notice blood-mixed arousal sliding down your thighs.

Aemond tilts your chin up gently, “tis normal for some women to bleed.”

“Oh.”

You step back and reach for your nightgown to redress, suddenly worried this might have been a mistake. Why if Aemond decided you weren’t good enough to be his wife?

“What happens now?” You ask shyly.

“I will have one of your ladies prepare a bath for you,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “You need to do nothing else but rest, and while you do that, I will speak with my mother and inform her of what transpired. Then I suspect come morning she will be meeting with Ser Gwayne to discuss our betrothal.”

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: A handful of TWST characters that I headcanon have not had their first kiss yet and you kissing them for the first time.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: riddle and idia and azul are obvious but i feel like i need to explain jade and floyd. they're clearly emotionally detached from most people and probably scared off anyone that might remotely be interest in (even though if they can be scared off, the twins would probably find them boring anyway) so they haven't kissed anyone yet in my silly little head. thats all!!

i was listening to cherry wine by hozier while writing floyd's part so if its softer than usual that's why OOPS

the asexual in me loves writing about hesitant physical intimacy leave me alone :C

Riddle Rosehearts feels his hands shaking as you stare, eyes so calm and hopeful that makes his heart lurch. He doesn’t know how to give you what you want without curling in on himself and becoming flustered. It’s unbecoming of him to cower like this, but he can’t help it. your hand against his cheek, the other one resting on his shoulder, your faces so close together. He feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you, but he doesn’t know how and he doesn’t want to mess this up because he’s supposed to just know.

“You don’t have to know,” you whisper, and you sound so certain that his heart flutters like a caged bird, “Every person is different. Everyone has a different feel to their kiss, and I’m glad I get to help you discover yours.”

He can’t breathe.

“Will you allow me?” you murmur, tilting your head the slightest bit and oh, he knows what's coming and he doesn’t want to stop it.

“Please.” he breathes, slamming his eyes shut, “Kiss me.”

Azul’s shaking hands find their way to your hips as if they were always meant to be there, pressed against your pants and brushing against the hem of your shirt. He sucks in a breath as your arms are draped around his neck, like a blanket of love coating him in warmth. His body does feel impossibly hot, and he wonders for a moment if you truly are magical.

His mouth feels dry so he wets his lips, and when your eyes flicker towards them at the movement he almost dies.

“Azul, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” you murmur, softly and with so much understanding. It’s frustrating, how Azul wants every part of you and you’re willing to wait for him. You’re too good for him.

“I want to.” he whispers, pleading in a way that only someone as powerful as him can, “I want to kiss you, so please—”

Azul talks too much. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is he. Maybe that’s why you shut him up and replaced his greedy pleas with the sound of soft kissing, but then again, Azul doesn’t need to know what other reasons you had for kissing him. The only reason he needs is your love.

Jade does not understand why it’s such a shock to you that he has yet to be kissed. You have seen him in his merform, you have fought him in his merform, and yet your brain cannot wrap around the concept that people find him terrifying. Really, you are an amusing one.

“The merpeople my age were scared of me, pearl.” he chuckles politely as you gape at him from across the Mostro Lounge table he seated you at hours before, “I had yet to be in a romantic relationship until you.”

“But you’re so handsome.” you huff, and it looks like you’re pouting, “Your peers have no taste.”

“Ah, or mayhaps your taste is an acquired one, my dear.” he smiles his closed-eyed smile, and revels in the amused snort his response elicits.

“We should kiss then.” you blurt, and Jade’s eyes fly open in surprise. You’re leaning across the table with shimmering eyes and a huge smile like you can’t wait to kiss him.

How peculiar.

“Do you want to be kissed?” he says, feigning surprise.

“By you? More than anything.” you say breathlessly, and Jade finds himself leaning into you to really take your breath away.

Floyd stares intently at your lips, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. He looks like a predator about to pounce on its prey, and despite how cliche that comparison is for someone like him you can’t help but squirm.

“Floyd.” you say softly, and he snaps out of it when he meets your gaze, “What’s wrong?”

“Shrimpy. Wanna try something new.” he leans closer, his shadow falling over you as if to remind you how scary he can really be, “I want to kiss you.”

Oh.

“Well, that’s doable.” you feel your face grow warm at his insistence as your hands find their way to his lapels.

Floyd’s features soften as he leans into you, his bristling energy soothed by your hands on him, pulling him closer to give him what he wants. Your mouths connect and for a moment you find yourself wincing as his teeth bump against yours, but he pulls back just the slightest bit and presses into your mouth with his mouth, and you lean back and back and back until the only support you have is his arm holding you close.

“Love you Shrimpy.” he grins as he stops kissing you, giggling against your lips. His breath is warm and you feel like a sweet ice cream cone in summer with the way you melt against him.

“Again.” you huff quietly, and Floyd is all too happy to oblige.

Idia was not expecting to be thrown into a super hard boss level right off the bat. Seriously, what is this? Why did you always have to play with such gimmick stats that made no sense and never follow any specific trope?! It wasn’t good for his heart!

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to kiss him, it was just so hard not to think about everything that could go wrong. Like what if he bit you by accident? What if he yawned or sneezed in your mouth? What was the last thing he ate? Where did he put his hands and how is he supposed to move his lips?!

“Idia, it’s okay. We can wait a little while longer. This isn’t something you can rush.” you rub your thumb over his cheek, always so gentle and tender and sweet and everything he never thought he would find.

“No, I want to. I just...don’t look at me like that!” he squeaks, ducking his head in his hoodie as the tips of his hair flare pink and red.

“Sorry!” you turn away and let him breathe, trying so desperately to calm down.

“Just...can it be a quick one?” he asks shyly, tentatively, and he hears you hum in satisfaction because he’s communicating and he knows you like it when he tells you what he wants.

“It can be anything you want.” you answer softly, and Idia slams his eyes shut and leans into you.

How you manage to make such normie things seem so nice is a mystery to him, but he doesn’t think he can ever get enough of your lips gliding across his like they were never meant to do anything but kiss him.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

I DESPERATELY NEED MEAN DOM!FORD PLEASE I DONT CARE IF THAT DOESNT SUIT HIM I NEED HIM TO MOCK ME

mean dom!Ford x fem!reader

a/n: hey its totally ok and understandable, i love this man in every way, sub/dom or switch, i like to experiment and put him in different moods

tags: nsfw, fem!reader, fingering, ford being mean, dom!ford, needy reader, squirting

Ford doesn’t even bother looking up from his book as you squirm, desperate for just a sliver of his attention.

“you’ve been insufferable today,” he murmurs, tracing his long finger along your thigh slowly. “you can’t even sit still for ten minutes. what’s gotten into you?”

“just,” you blink up at him, wide-eyed and needy, clutching at the sleeve of his coat like some kind of plea. “Ford—”

“ah-ah.” he cuts you off without sparing a glance, his face still buried in the dense pages of his book. “don’t whine at me, sweetheart, it’s unbecoming.”

the sting of his indifference makes your cheeks burn, but the gentle, absentminded touch of his fingers only worsens the ache building between your legs. you press yourself closer to him, shifting with an embarrassed wiggle, hoping, praying, for something more.

“so needy,” he tuts under his breath, finally flicking his eyes down to catch your pitiful expression. the corners of his mouth curl into smirk. “what is it you want, hm? use your words, darling.”

“need you, please,” you mumble, breath hitching as his six long, perfect fingers curl against your hip, stilling your movement.

“‘need me,’” he parrots back flatly as if the words mean nothing to him. and then, just as your lip threatens to tremble, his hand is sliding down. languid and unhurried until the tips of his fingers press over the seam of your pajama shorts. “is this what you’ve been sulking about?” his fingers slip past the elastic of your panties now to find the slick heat of your cunt. the sharp inhale you give in response makes his smirk widen

you gasp softly, nodding far too eagerly as the faintest pressure makes your thighs clench together around his hand.

“tch. so pathetic, my love.” he hums like he’s only mildly amused, flipping a page of his book with his other hand as though this isn’t taking an ounce of his focus. “you can’t even get off by yourself, can you? you always need my help.”

your face burns hotter at the truth of his words.

“well,” he hooks two fingers around the waistband of your panties, pulling them low enough to slip his big hand inside. “lucky for you, i’m generous.”

you pant as he parts your delicate folds, spreading your slick as though he’s analyzing it. his thumb brushes lazily against your clit and your hips buck against him. “please. . . Ford,” you whimper, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders as he presses one thick finger into your entrance, just one, and it already feels like too much. “yes, more. . .”

“shh,” he murmurs, sounding like he’s scolding a misbehaving student. his eyes remain glued to the book propped lazily in his hand, not even sparing you the satisfaction of his gaze. “if you’re going to make this much noise, i’ll stop right now. do you understand?”

you bite down hard on your lip, nodding weakly as you stifle the whine that bubbles in your throat.

“good girl,” he mutters, thrusting his finger in a faint rhythm that has you trembling against him already. the slow drag of his touch, barely applying pressure, feels so cruel. he’s teasing your needy pussy on purpose, barely letting you feel enough to keep from crying.

“you’re already dripping. how shameful,” Ford says absently. “you must really be desperate if my touch alone has you this worked up.”

your hips twitch despite yourself, grinding into his palm like you’re trying to get more friction out of his cruel, lazy pace.

“are you that greedy?” he scoffs softly, clicking his tongue disappointedly. “i haven’t even properly touched you yet.”

you feel him shift slightly, and then, oh god, two of his fingers dip inside your messy cunt with ease, sliding in to the knuckle like they belong there. you choke back a gasp, clenching hard around him as he curls them just so, finding that spot with an infuriating ease that makes your vision blur. all this time his full attention is focused on book as though it is far more fascinating than the way your warm walls flutter and clench around his fingers.

your breath stutters in your throat as he pumps them with slow precision, twisting his wrist to press against the spongy spot that has you seeing stars. he’s relentless, six perfect fingers and half of his attention enough to make you feel like you’re falling apart, you’re losing all sense of yourself against him.

“Ford, Ford, please,” you manage to gasp, hands curling into fists against his chest. your nails claw at the fabric of his coat, desperate to have more of him, to pull his focus away from that damn book.

but he doesn’t even blink and you want to cry. want to scream. want him to look at you, but he’s back to reading again, flipping a page with a practiced flick of his wrist while his other hand pumps two thick fingers into you slowly.

“so awfully impatient tonight,” he remarks, reading his book like he hasn’t just pressed a third finger inside your already-stretched wet cunt. the burn of it, the stretch is delicious, unbearable, too much. “you wanted my attention, didn’t you?” he continues, voice still maddeningly level, as though he can’t hear the obscene sounds spilling from your mouth or the wet, squelching noises coming from where his fingers fuck into your pussy.

“y-yes,” you choke out, forehead dropping against his shoulder as your body trembles, helpless against his pace. “yes, Ford— need you, please—”

“you have it now,” Ford cuts you off, scissoring his fingers inside you, pressing harder until you cry out, legs shaking and hips jerking against him. the words go straight to your core and your walls flutter around his finger again, he chuckles softly at that, shaking his head because you’re just so predictable.

he pumps his fingers slower again, so unbelievably slow, the pads of them brushing over your spongy sweet spot every time. perfect, practiced, ruthless. and he doesn’t stop reading. he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t react when your whimpers get louder or when you grind helplessly against his palm, dripping on his hand.

“Ford— can’t—“ your back arches, needy moan rips from your throat, but Ford just flips another page of his book, his expression bored.

“you act like you can’t take it,” he says flatly, fucking you with his fingers a little bit faster. “but i know better. i know this greedy little cunt can handle so much more.”

“no, no, cant—“

“you can,” he bites out, fingers suddenly stilling inside you. the sudden emptiness makes you wail, but his cold stare finally flicks down to meet yours and it shuts you up instantly. “and you will. you’ll sit there like a good girl and take what i give you or you’ll get nothing.”

the coil in your belly pulls tight, pleasure threatening to snap, to overwhelm you completely. and still, still, he acts so unbothered, so calm, even as your slick drips down the length of his hand.

“hm,” he hums thoughtfully, the corner of his mouth quirking up as if he’s only just now beginning to enjoy himself. “close, aren’t you?”

you nod weakly, unable to form words, unable to do anything but whine softly into the fabric of his coat.

the book snaps shut.

you don’t even have time to process the movement before he tosses it carelessly onto the table, curling his hand at the back of your neck to yank you forward, crashing his mouth against yours in a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs as he finally, finally, turns his full attention on you.

Ford growls against your lips, plunging his fingers back into your cunt without warning, harder, faster now, the rough glide of his palm pressing firmly against your swollen clit. “begging for my attention like a desperate little thing.” he cuts you off harshly, his hand pinning you down as you try to squirm, legs shaking violently around his arm.

“oh, now you’re shy?” Ford scoffs, watching with sharp amusement as you twist and arch under him, trying to take everything he’s giving you. his fingers pump into your little pussy mercilessly now, curling with every thrust as you try to move your hips together with his rhythm, letting him ruin you with only his fingers, riding them desperately, chasing that high.

“Ford—! it’s too—”

“too much?” he finishes for you mockingly, leaning in close until his breath is hot against your ear. “but you wanted my attention, sweetheart. now you’re going to take everything i give you.”

his thumb finds your puffy clit again, rubbing it rougher now, circling, pressing, forcing that coil in your belly to tighten, to snap. you cry out, a soundless scream caught on your lips as your body convulses, pleasure so blinding it feels like you’re being torn apart and you’re literally crying, feeling tears appearing in the corners of your eyes.

“so pretty when you cry,” he leans down and kisses your forehead. “that’s it, my love, give it to me. i want to feel you drench my hand, sweetheart. make a mess for me.”

“i— i can’t—! too much, too muchh. . . cant, i cant, F-Ford!”

“you will,” he snaps and thrusts his fingers so deep it feels like he’s tearing you apart, dragging across that spot again and again until you’re choking on sobs, legs locking up around him and you try to pull away because that feeling is unknown to you, but he keeps rubbing that place inside you with his fingertips again and again. “that’s it, cum for me, love, now.”

and you do, despite all your whines and mewls, you do as you shatter with a loud, keening cry, arching your back. your walls seize around his fingers, soaking his hand, your thighs, the fabric of his pants, even his coat. your slick gushing around his fingers as he fucks you through it.

“there it is,” Ford mutters, watching your pretty needy face. “look at you, darling, so messy. you’re so beautiful.”

Ford finally slows his pace, but his fingers still buried deep inside you as he feels your walls spasming around them. his other hand strokes your thighs and stomach gently, soothing, so tender, as though he hasn’t just ruined you completely.

you’re a mess, trembling, tears streaming down your face, but Ford just clicks his tongue, pulling his fingers free and holding them up in the low lamplight, satisfaction written all over his proud face as he examines the slick dripping down his hand before wiping it against your thigh.

“well, now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, maybe you’ll let me finish my reading in peace.”

[traveler-at-heart]

How to train your spy

Request by @happychopshoppenguin

Summary: You meet a hot stranger in a bar. The next morning, there's a familiar face at your SHIELD training.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

-

Of course it was a bad idea. Irresponsible, unbecoming of an adult who had just gotten her dream job.

But your new life started tomorrow and you knew that from then on, it was all about duty and service.

In that case, who could blame you for going out to dance one last time?

“Another round of shots” you requested at the bar, looking over your shoulder.

“Can I buy you a drink?” a man said next to you and you politely declined. However, he moved closer, eyeing you up and down. “Come on, sweetheart. We can have a good time”

“Hi, baby. What’s taking so long?” a raspy voice said behind you. You were about to correct the person, who had probably mistaken you for someone else.

Green eyes met yours, and you were breathless at the beauty in front of you. The woman rested her chin on your shoulder.

“Is this man giving you trouble?” she said in a playful tone, but her glare was murderuous. It was enough to make him give up, turning around to leave.

“Thanks” you said, relaxing against the woman’s chest. She smelled incredible and you were a little drunk. It was hard to keep your distance. “Can I buy you a drink? To thank you, of course”

“One more couldn’t hurt. But seems like you have enough to drink” she commented when the bartender gave you a tray with six tequila shots.

“Oh, these are for my friends. I can’t get wasted today. I’m starting a new job tomorrow”

“Congratulations…” her words hung in the air and you picked up on the intent, jumping up to introduce yourself.

“Y/N Y/L/N. And you are…?”

“Just Nat” the woman shook your hand and you blushed at the contact.

“Well, just Nat. What brings you here on this fine Sunday night?”

“Waiting for a friend. He should be here in…45 minutes”

“Can I keep you company for those 45 minutes?” you offered, sitting next to her on a bar stool.

“Sure. Why don’t you tell me what was your plan if I hadn’t shown up to save you from that creep?”

“Oh, you saved me, huh?” you chuckled and Nat nodded, bringing the glass of scotch to her lips. You were enthranced by her beautiful, elegant jawline and neck.

“Is that what you were planning on doing? Stare at him?” she mocked and you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll have you know I am good at fighting”

“Like karate or…”

“Like many things. And I can throw a punch. A good one. I can show you”

“Maybe some other time. How about we play some darts?” she leaned forward, arching an eyebrow. All you could do was nod dumbly.

Nat took the tray of shots with her and you agreed that the loser would drink for each turn.

“Crap” you said after the third shot. “You’re really good at this”

“I should have mentioned that before we set the rules, huh?”

“Let’s just play something different” you said, sitting in a quiet corner of the bar. “Truth or dare”

“Alright. I’ll start. Dare”

“Tell me your name. Not just Nat”

The redhead grabbed a shot and downed it. You laughed.

“Now you”

“Alright… truth” but before Nat could ask anything, you took a shot, and began speaking, slightly slurring your words. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”

The woman blushed and you chuckled, realising that’s not how the game worked after it was too late.

“My turn. I dare you to…”

“I’m supposed to dare you, isn’t how this works…?” you wondered out loud, drinking yet another shot.

“I dare you to kiss me” Nat said, louder. Her gaze traveled from your mouth to your lips, and you didn’t have to be told twice.

The kiss was messy, and desperate, teeth clashing as you pulled the woman by the collar of her jacket. The force of your movements made her stand up, and pretty soon you felt the edge of a pool table against your legs.

Were you about to have sex with a total stranger in the corner of a bar?

Nat bit your lip, making you moan against her tongue.

Well, yes, apparently you were about to get fucked by a beautiful woman in a bar…

But then…

“Seriously?” a voice said behind you. It was a man, carrying a… bow and arrow?

“You told me to hang back” Nat answered. You turned to glare at the man for interrupting you, but a couple of men in black suits followed close behind. “Messy work, Barton. They followed you all the way here”

“Help me out or get a room”

The latter would work for you, except the men began to throw punches, some of then carrying knives. In spite of the alcohol, you were able to knock down one.

Apparently that wasn’t so impressive, considering Nat and Mister Bow and Arrow had taken care of the other six on their own.

“Good work” you gave a thumbs up, practically passing out on the chair. The alcohol had finally kicked in enough to make you dizzy.

“We have to go” the man pressed and Nat sighed.

“I didn’t get your phone number” you complained, less and less focused on the woman in front of you. You felt arms around you, leaving you close to the table where your friends were sitting.

“I’ll see you around” Nat promised, kissing your cheek. You smiled, but the last thing you saw was your friend’s face as you dropped to the floor.

—

Stupid. Stupid.

Idiotic.

After coffe, you ran 10 miles and swam for 30 minutes. How unfortunate that intense physical activity was the only way to cure your hangovers.

Luckily, SHIELD had the best facilities and you were able to shower before your introduction to the program.

After acing every test -physical, psychological, medical and polygraph- you were set to start your training to become a SHIELD agent.

You entered the first floor gym, noticing there were more men than women -which was to be expected, but made you anxious nonetheless. It was hard to stand out in a male dominated field, especially if your instructor was a man as well.

But as everyone stood around the gym and the doors opened one last time, you turned around.

Nat.

Nat was here, wearing a black jacket with the SHIELD logo and training pants.

Your eyes met for a brief second and she smiled, clearly amused.

“Welcome to SHIELD” she said in an icy tone. “Your training begins today. There are no days off and if you have a problem with that, you might as well leave now. Agents on the field don’t rest, or let their guard down because if they do, they get killed. Training starts every day at seven, do not be late. You’ll also have to study languages, technology, weapons and cryptography”

Everyone in the room stayed silent, their eyes on the redhead.

“Now, I’ll be honest, my idea of fun isn’t training new recruits. I’m not very patient and I won’t tolerate people who don’t take this seriously. Today, we will begin with combat training. Y/L/N, come over here”

Wait, what?

Well, fuck. Scratching the back of your neck, you sighed and walked to the front of the line. With her back to the group, Nat smiled, signaling for you to stand next to her in the sparring mat. You were far enough from the rest of the people to at least speak.

“You had to pick the girl with a massive hangover”

“Yours is the only name I know” she lied and you rolled your eyes.

“I was hoping we’d meet again, but not for you to kick my ass”

Assuming a fighting stance, you figured she wanted you to attack first. You were barely able to throw a punch when she had you pinned to the ground.

Every time you got up, she found a way to knock you down. And not just that, she’d place her face close to yours, or end on top of you. Not only was she impossible to beat, but also completely intoxicating. The memories from last night were foggy, except for the way her lips felt on yours.

“Why are you all staring? Find a partner and practice” the woman said to the recruits.

“Can I at least get your name now?” you asked, panting on the floor.

“Natasha” she gave you her hand to help you up. “Natasha Romanoff”

—

Natasha - no, Agent Romanoff-, was giving you a masterclass on psychological warfare.

She teased you endlessly, with little touches that lingered and made your skin feel hot. Or with words spoken when you were close enough to be the only one to hear them.

Like that time on the shooting room, when Natasha approached you, making you relax your shoulders by squeezing them, lowering your elbow to improve your stance.

“Good girl” she whispered against your neck, making you miss the shot completely.

To make matters worse, you had an entire class dedicated to breaking free from different restraints.

Of course, Natasha was the one that handcuffed your hands behind your back, her eyes lingering on the way your chest stuck out.

“Not a bad view” she commented. “Though I do think you’ll enjoy the ropes a bit more”

And yes, you absolutely did. Especially when she squeezed them tighter around your wrists and you groaned.

It wasn’t just physical contact. Natasha could say one small thing in that sultry tone and you’d be on your knees.

“Your foreign language skills seem fine. Russian could be better, though” the redhead commented after your latest review.

“It’s hard to find someone to practice with” you mumbled, your eyes following Natasha’s body as she stood up, walking towards you.

“It’s all in the tongue. You can do wonders when you know how to use it”

“I bet” you mumbled, feeling hot as she leaned past you, opening the door so you could leave her office.

“Be sure to work on that. Wouldn’t want that pretty mouth to disappoint me”

Thoughts of what you could do with your mouth to please her were the only thing on your mind for the rest of the day.

Between the endless teasing and the grueling preparation, the first month went by. You were better at combat, managing to go toe to toe with Natasha. In everything else, you were top of the class.

There was one girl called Lindsay who was particularly fond of you. Natasha realised you were too nice to ignore her, and too naive to notice she was flirting with you.

“I’m meeting some friends at a bar later today. Would love it if you could join us” she said, smiling as you both walked down the hallway to the gym.

“Oh, I was thinking of staying home, I have to catch up with Grey’s Anatomy”

“Come on, you should find time to relax. It must be so hard to have Romanoff all over you”

“Y-yeah”

Yes, all over you but in a totally different way than Lindsay meant.

As if on cue, Natasha opened one of the doors, emerging from a conference room. Lindsay blushed, wondering if the woman had heard. However, Natasha didn’t even look at her.

“Y/N. A word?”

“Yes, Agent” you nodded, walking past her to the empty conference room. “Is everything ok?”

“There’s a mission tonight. Nothing major. Thought you might be ready”

“Seriously?” you said, excited at the idea of infiltrating a terrorist organziation, kicking ass, saving people. “That’s… I’m ready, of course”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight”

You couldn’t even imagine she’d asked you because she was jealous of your friend.

—

You couldn’t complain. For one, if you did, Natasha would kick your ass. Second, it was a great opportunity, especially for a new recruit.

The fact that the mission was sitting around in a car waiting for something to happen was irrelevant.

“So, once we see that dude Rinderknech, we go inside? Hack into his computer? Bug the place?” you said, grabbing the camera and pointing the big lens towards a window of the building.

“We watch and report back” Natasha answered. You turned to her, and she shrugged her shoulders. “Intelligence is 90% of the work. And that means a lot of hours on your ass looking out for bad guys”

“Right” you said, trying to ignore the cold air inside. You couldn’t turn the car or the heat on.

“Here” Natasha said, pulling a blanket out of the backseat. Before you could thank her, she handed you a plastic cup of coffee and a scone.

“Hey, these are my favorites” you noted, biting into the pastry. Remembering your manners a second too late, you muffled a thank you to Natasha. “How did you know?”

“It’s the first thing you pick up at the cafeteria every morning” she rolled her eyes.

“Thank you, Tasha” you said again, unaware that the term of endearment had made the woman blush.

Her hands flew to the car radio, desperately trying to fill the silence.

“Leave it there” you asked when one of your favorite songs came on, placing your hand on her thigh. Natasha had to choke back a whimper.

What the hell? She’d been the one making you all hot and bothered for months now. And here you were, eating a scone and patting her leg, making a mess out of the best spy in the world.

“Keane was my first concert” she heard you say. Her blank stare made you insist, waiting for a reaction. “Keane? English band?”

“I don’t listen to a lot of music. And I’ve never been to a concert either” she muttered, pretending to look out the window for your person of interest.

“A concert virgin. If you ever interested, I’ll be happy to be your first” you joked.

“Thanks. That might be fun”

“Not as good as playing darts and getting drunk, though” you said and Natasha bit back a smile.

It was the first time either one of you mentioned that night. Mainly because bringing it up only made you think about how good Natasha felt.

Green eyes met yours and the intensity made you shiver.

The sound of a text on your phone interrupted the moment

“That your girlfriend?” Natasha said, feigning indifference.

“Who, Lindsay? She’s just a friend”

“Right. Don’t be naive. That’s how you get yourself killed out in the field” the redhead grumbled.

“Sorry, I haven’t noticed much other than how ridiculously good you look on your SHIELD uniform”

“Stop that” Natasha said, blushing.

Blushing because of you? Accomplishment of a lifetime.

“I’m only giving as good as I get, Agent”

Natasha chuckled, moving forward in her seat to get a better look out… and probably hide that she was blushing again.

“There they are” she nodded towards the corner. You recognised Rinderknech by the tattoo on his neck. He was speaking to a group of men when their attention turned to your car.

“Nat?” you said when two of their bodyguards began to approach you. “What do we do?”

Turning back, Natasha noticed a black SUV, blocking the back street. It was impossible to escape without making a scene.

Her mind went blank, the only concern she had was that you could get hurt, all because she made you join her on a mission that wasn’t that necessary.

The men kept walking and Natasha remained frozen. Then, it came to you.

“Kiss me” you turned, urgency in your tone.

“What?”

“PDA and all that. Will make them uncomfortable. Just do it” you said, pulling her by the shirt until her lips met yours.

This time, her lips tasted of coffee and sugar. After a few seconds, Natasha’s mind drifted from the mission, and all she could think about was you. As your mouth parted to give her access, Natasha’s hand went up your leg all the way to the button of your jeans.

“Excuse me?” a man tapped on the glass.

Damn it. You rolled down the window, swollen lips and the first two buttons of your shirt undone. When did she do that?

“Oh, never mind” the man looked amused, but seemed convinced enough that you weren’t a threat.

“We should go” Natasha said, knowing it wasn’t safe to stick around after a close call.

You spent the rest of the ride in silence, but it was pretty obvious what was going through your head as you shifted uncomfortably on your seat of the car.

“We should…”

“Do you want to…?”

As Natasha parked the car, you spoke at the same time, looking at each other and smiling.

Before you could start over, Barton approached the car, surprised when he spotted you inside.

“Hey, you must be Y/N” Barton said, looking at the coffee cup and the bag with half a scone. He smiled again, turning to Natasha. “Jesus, Nat. Just ask the girl out”

“Shut it”

“Crappy coffee in a car during a stakeout is not a proper date” the man insisted and walked away before Natasha could slap the lights out of him.

“And here I was, thinking I was on the mission for my talents” you laughed, exiting the car.

“Y/N, wait!” Natasha called. “I did. Wanted to ask you out. I’m just… not good at this”

“That’s ok. I am” you said, pulling her close to you. “Let’s just not do darts, tequila or fight against organized crime. I think we’ve had enough of that”

“What about all the kissing?”

“Oh, that is definitely happening” you smiled, leaning forward. “I can’t wait for you to hear all the Russian I’ve been learning, detka”

With a kiss on her neck, you walked to the SHIELD building, pleased with Nat’s shocked stare.

All these months, she’d been teaching you how to be a spy; and more importantly, how to be a tease.

She was about to found out how good of a teacher she was.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Vampires of a Feather | Yandere Pomefiore

Think about modern life no magic

And you own an apartment with your loving and adoring boyfriend Rook

Unbeknownst to you 

On one of his oh so familiar nature strolls Rook found himself poking around an abandoned mansion

He won’t bother to say anything about the lovely boy he finds resting in there almost certain a dead body

Such luscious pale skin, such dark lipstick

He feels such beauty deserves a kiss even if their beyond the grave

But he won’t tell you that 

He’ll return home and kiss you as deeply as he does every time he sees you

You two will go on eventually settling down to have dinner 

When you hear something bang against the door

“Uh don’t worry babe, I’ll get it!”

“Be back soon beau trésor!”

Thinking it’s a failed knock you head for the door to open it 

Something small but sturdy whizzes past you 

Ricochetting off the walls and into some boxes you hadn’t unpacked

“Oh my Gosh Rook!”

“Oh my!”

“Ah Rook don’t go over there I think it’s a bat!”

“Oh how cute!”

“Not cute they have rabies!”

Despite your protests he’s forging on with you worriedly at his back

Come to find it’s that fellow from the abandoned mansion

And his name is Epel

“Oi what’s this weird place and why am I around a bunch of humans?”

“It’s a man!”

“Si magnifique! The joli monsieur from the house!”

“From the house?!” 

After explaining himself Epel explains how he a vampire found himself skyrockettng into your home

He unfortunately mistook the pheromone that would have led him to his pod for Rook’s scent

Thus he ended up here

“Vampires travel in pods?”

“Yes that’s how-”

“Like dolphins?”

“I guess…”

“That’s kind of cute!”

“No it’s not!”

“I agree mon chéri!” 

“IT IS NOT CUTE!”

From then on you and Rook help Epel blend in to the modern world

“Come on Epel no need to freak out!”

“No! Keep that terrible creation away from me!”

“It’s only a camera!”

“Come Pomme de poison! It’s a glorious tool (Y/n) and I are intimately close with!”

Slowly getting to a comfortable place where you both share your blood with him within reason

“Mmm Epel?”

“Yes (Y/n)?”

“Do you really need to lick my neck so many times? I’m ready for you to just get it over with.”

“Shhh let me enjoy this! Let me take my time.”

“Well okay…but does Rook have to sit so closely?”

“Don’t mind me, my Love! I’m only enjoying the enticing dance of life happening on your lovely neck!”

It’s only until a while of the domestic life along side him that you come to a sad realization

“Rook…he can’t stay with us.”

“Where is this coming from, mon chéri?”

“I was thinking…Epel’s going to outlive us.”

“Darling.”

“Then he’ll be all alone.”

“(Y/n).”

“We have to help him find his pod.”

Rook’s face drops every time you give him that look

Spending your free time devoting to properties his pod might own 

Your acutely aware that he’s not as enthusiastic 

But this isn’t about him 

This is about Epel

Who in the mean time doesn’t mind finding his pod 

But he doesn’t really care

“I’ve found two humans I like quite a lot. Besides I don’t really care about my pod especially since they’e a bunch of stuffy snobs. But it (Y/n) wants to find them I don’t mind.”

By the time Rook actually gets this from Epel you’ve already sent a letter to the one you’ve tracked down

“(Y/n)--!”

“--We have something to tell you!”

“Oh! Welcome home you two! You’re just in time to meet the vampire I found that's from your pod!”

“Oh no!”

“Wow!”

“Hello again Epel, I’ve come to take you home.”

It’s Vil Schoenheit a reclusive idol that’s supposed to be an old decrepit man you were sending letters with 

But alas he was a vampire 

And a very powerful one at that

He immediately begins critiquing Epel and subsequently Rook

“But at the very least you’ve found some decent hosts…for humans at least.”

“Hey! Don’t talk down to my humans!”

“Your anger is just as unbecoming on you as it was all those centuries ago.”

Ultimately it’s decided by Vil that Epel will be going with him 

To the country he quietly runs, where hundreds of lesser vampires serve him loyally

“I-I’m not going without Rook and (Y/n)!”

“Wait what–”

“C'est mieux que de te traquer!”

“Ugh I understand (Y/n) but this other one I’m not sure.”

Vil since he received your letter had been intrigued

A mere human who was so straight-forward with something many would call conspiracy 

Not to mention he’s absolutely enamored with ‘fixing’ you before properly elevating your status

To a vampire of course

He’ll find out he likes Rook too

but that's later

Until then he’ll just drag him along until Epel looses interest

With a snap of his finger tons of other vampires arrive taking your stuff and loading it in trucks

“Wait hold on! What are you doing?!”

“Do you have problems listening (Y/n)? You are coming with us.”

“But we can’t–We’d never live as long as you, it’s just not right!”

“As humans you won’t but once you’re a vampire that will change.”

“But I don’t want to be–”

“Hush. Rook if you’re good for anything you’ll help (Y/n) pack their bags.”

“Yes my Queen!”

“Rook!!”

No sooner than you could register 

You’re unofficially decided as one of the newest members of their pod

You’d like to think you weren’t alone in this confusion

But Rook doesn’t seem to have any of the same concerns you have

“Oh Epel isn’t this perfect! We’ll become members of your pod with the Queen!”

“Ugh! Not you too! I’ve got to make sure he doesn’t ruin you and (Y/n) completely.”

[urstruly-ghst]

a fairytale moment could've occurred

in which sebek laments the fact he'll probably never let the walls he put between you two. forever will you be his fairytale just out of reach.

author's note: sebek being so soft is something i need to see

taglist: @tsubaki3192

How cruel it is, Sebek notes, when you both share the same table drinking coffee. He wasn’t a fan of the bitter taste it leaves, but here he is, brewing a pot and sharing his notes with you. It was an uncharacteristically quiet study session.

The smoke from the boiling pot brought Sebek a new sense of calm; he found a new tolerance to black coffee. You were on the other end of the boiling coffee pot, eyes scanning the notes you kindly asked for Sebek. He finds it endearing that you sought his advice. After all, he was fairly brutal with your magicless abilities. Your tired eyes keep scrolling; the silence envelops you two, and his green eyes scan you.

“Human, you have been staring at the same page for a while,” Sebek said sharply. You jolt, and Sebek felt his heart flutter at your flustered apology. You usually ask for others’ help, but all seem to be busy. Finding a new friendship with the fae, you asked for his assistance. Oddly enough, it was more productive than any study session with your other friends. 

“Sorry. It’s just… The magic aspect to this quiz is making my head ache.” You sighed and glared at the notes. Sebek wanted to laugh, reach for your hand, comfort you, and gently guide you. But he can’t.

“Heh. Of course, you don’t. You never wielded magic,” Sebek said bluntly, but it wasn’t an insult. It was a fact. You giggled and nodded, agreeing with him. How could you be so casual around him? He asks as he sees how your smile reaches your eyes and how you throw your head back as if he just said the world’s greatest joke.

“Why are you laughing? Am I telling a joke? Human!” Sebek said flusteredly as you shook and coughed lightly. You breathed in and flashed him a smile. Oh, Sevens. Don’t smile at him like that. He needed to catch his breath, he grabbed his coffee mug and tried to hide his emotions.

“Nothing.” You smile and look back at the notes. You fell back into the silence that comforts him. He peeked from the smoke of the coffee. He sought your expressions. Sebek can’t help but feel like the world mocks his conflicted feelings.

Entering his dorm, he expected to do what he did best: training. He planned to review his routines, but his feet dragged him to his desk. The desk was neat, with a pen, notebook, and a few notepads. It wasn’t time to study; he had just studied with you. But here he is, picking up the pen and paper.

“What am I doing?” He mumbled, but his hand didn’t stop. It went onto the paper as if your name was written on autopilot. Seeing your name in his handwriting was a stomach-churning feeling; it felt exhilarating, and it felt so right.

“Dear, [Name]

What have you done to me? Is there some force you discovered? Have you managed to wield magic when you claim not to? This feeling is unbecoming of me; it's all you. With every detail I miss and every detail I catch, they lead back to you.

Is this what friendship does to you? Silver and I’s friendship never plagued my thoughts with this feeling. I have so many questions, Prefect [Name], and I don’t know if I am ready to ask you this. Is the friendship we have–”

Sebek gasped as the words his mind never dared to give second thought were on the paper. The words looking back at him made the feeling all the more real. It wasn’t as horrifying to admit it, Sebek thought. If anything, it felt liberating. He stared at the words, and his heart pounded. This feeling– it’s new and 

“Exhausting,” Sebek yawned. He was surprised when he felt fatigued and was usually willing to make himself work more. He'd munch on some random confectionary if he needed to break. However, he found himself hopping on his bed and lying there to do nothing but stare. What sorcery did you put on him when you were both studying?

“Foolish thoughts…” Sebek mumbled, irritated at everything that seemed to diminish his well-built character, but there was also a tiny whisper in the back of his mind. Was this the devotion and love he heard from his mother? Was this the pining he once read in the novels passed onto him?

The next day, he didn’t see a peep from you. Then again, you rarely share a class on certain days, so you were expected not to cross paths. Amidst the logic, he felt disappointed. Why is he unhappy? There was a reason and an already logical route to follow, but why was his eyes searching for you in a sea of students?

“Dear, Prefect [Name],

Do I have to always look out for you? My eyes search for you as if you are my young master. How dare you disrupt my duties and time with your rude interruptions?”

Sebek once more was hunched over his desk as the day concluded. He was writing as if he were speaking to you. The pen in his hand was on the verge of breaking because Sebek gripped it with frustration. He can’t handle that he’s in a downward spiral with how he sees you. 

Is there a way for you to be by my side? A selfish request, isn’t it? We barely have started our journey as students, yet I ask you to commit by my side. What foolish ramblings am I having? Prefect, give me a reason not to search for you. Give me a reason so my heart can rest.”

Sebek grew to find this hobby of writing letters before he retired for the night therapeutic. In the daytime, you two will remain the same. By the time you both part ways, Sebek writes whatever emotion and longings he wishes he dared to say. At each letter, he signs them off, with a particular choice of words, “Ever yours.”

How can he be yours when his letters never were sent? It was addressed to you, but they only stay locked in his desk drawers. Sometimes, if it was a particularly strongly worded letter, he dumps it quickly to the fire. Sebek would watch the embers carry his words to ashes, ensuring he’d never say it out loud. He was deathly afraid that the moment he spoke up and revealed who he was beyond the loud Malleus fanatic, Sebek would break under the reality that you would not react to how he wanted.

The next day, you and Sebek were talking once more. It was an impulse to go and see the Equestrian Club, but you opted to watch when your other friends were dragged somewhere else. Grim was also dragged somewhere, so you were left to use your own devices. As you both step onto the patch of grass, you feel at peace. You noticed that spending more time with Sebek was unusually fun and insightful, and he wasn’t a bore.

“Ah, Sebek. Brought in a friend?” Silver asked, smiling softly at you and nodding at his comrade. You wave and nod to his question. Sebek, on the other hand, huffs and shakes his head.

“Don’t be ridiculous. They just tagged along. Plus, does it bother you that I have a friend?” Sebek watched you laugh every time his bluntness showed, and he remembered your choice of words: “What a diva,” how silly can you be?

Sebek looked confused and tilted his head. Was this another human thing he needed to learn? All he remembers was how you now affectionately called him “My diva.” He remembered flaring up and shaking his head, refusing that you call him such ridiculous names. Sebek’s name must be honored!

But, how come his head reeled back as he remembered you used “my,” as if you brandished him as yours alone? He felt that endearment burn his soul. As he looked at the horses, he had an idea. Was it thoroughly planned? No, but you and your influence made him think this is brilliant.

“Hop on,” Sebek said as he motioned to a calmer horse (he was not aware why the horses were startled by him). You look at him and laugh. He blushed and asked shyly. “Not diva behavior?” 

You looked at him and laughed, the kind of laugh that would hurt your stomach, “No, diva. But, hey, you better catch me when I fall.” You said as you took the offer. Sebek nodded and promised,

“I will. I’ll catch you.”

—

“Dear, Prefect,

I meant what I said. I will catch you when you fall. Lending you the horse I would ride, chatting idly, and being with you… It brought a better version of my days here at Sage Island. While I still find my young master’s presence the main reason I stay and better myself, your presence became a new addition to my list of reasons to be better.

Don’t fret about my attitude and views because you altered it. For whatever reason, my heart foolishly follows your whims. You don’t know how much I detest this feeling. This is absurd; it is the same foolish tale my mother followed. As a child, I never understood, but now, with the knowledge that my heart burns… I came to know that reckless feeling.

You don’t need to know how much I wish to be more kind. But for now, I can’t. I shall remind you that you are human, and I am a fae. However, when the time comes when my walls crumble at your feet, please catch me too.

Catch me like how I will catch you.

Ever yours,

The “Diva”