#they liked my pins and asked if i liked frogs

[daimus]

every touch like a modified blow

Sae has always been a softer authority. 

wc — 1.6k

tags — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, omegaverse, beta sae x omega reader, my Sae is always a predator, literally the devil himself, fingering, reader is drunk, mindlessness (?) omega space (?) idk how to tag this but let me know if you need something tagged, title borrowed from an Anne Carson essay

“You’re tiresome, you know that?” 

Sae picks you up from the club in the way he likes you best: messy hair and smeared makeup and a mouth that’s begging to be kissed, pouting and bitten raw. He resists. It’s dawn. Light spills into the rosy sky like water from a glass, and you are laughing against his throat with a brightness that hurts his heart. 

“Stop that,” he says, a hand gently pressing your face against from his neck. “You know you won’t smell anything.”

He rolls his eyes at you when you paw at his scent patches anyway. The effort it takes to peel them off will be wasted. You inhale sharply as your press your nose right up against his warm, salty pulse. It’s just sweat, just skin, just Sae, but you’re breathing - panting, really - like he’s capable of giving off actual scent like an omega or an alpha. 

“Won’t you say something?” He asks. “Or am I alone in this conversation?” 

“What do you want to hear?” Your voice is dry and cracked. He gets up to pour you a glass from the pitcher. 

“Something less obsequious maybe,” he observes dryly. 

“I can’t help it,” you say, your smile darting around your mouth like a nervous animal, but why are you nervous? It’s just Sae. You're already reaching out to him even though he’s barely been gone for a minute. “It’s my biology.”

His hands are sympathetic as they stroke your hair. His words are not. “Biology is a starting point, not the end product. Don’t make excuses.” 

You go silent again. 

“And don’t huff.” 

You turn your head to bite his hand, the one petting your hair. 

“Brat,” he says fondly, and then, as if to overcorrect for the mistake of showing his affection, he pins you down against the sofa. 

Sae would never hurt you. But you love him, and love feels like fear - especially when he doesn’t tell you how he feels. Some partners say sweet things but act differently. Sae is the opposite. He doesn’t speak. You have to read everything through his actions. 

“Stay down,” he commands. “I’m going to get your makeup wipes. Don’t move.” 

He finds you halfway on the ground when he comes back, struggling to get out of your shirt, which suddenly feels two times too small. 

“You’re just begging for it, huh?” Sae says, setting the little packet of wipes down next to you. “Do you want me to punish you?” 

You throw a loose, easy smile over your right shoulder at him - or your left - it’s hard to tell when you’re on the ground contorted like this. It’s alcohol-wobbly, your smile distorted by the way your cheeks aren’t moving the way you’re used to. 

“You’re so drunk, baby,” he says, amused. 

“Want it, Sae,” you chirp up at him. “You can punish me.” 

He pats your head. It feels strangely nice. You don’t remember being pet by your parents in your youth or anyone else. Sae is the first. If he has anything to say about it, he’ll be the last. 

“I’ve never seen someone so happy to be scolded.” 

You lean into him, trying to show him what you want. It’s the way he communicates, after all, and Sae listens best when you meet him at his level. That’s how you end up in his lap, still half stuck in your shirt with your arms all but bound behind your back. 

“Punishment?” You tilt your head at him as he frees you. He runs light fingerprints over the red marks on your arms and shoulders with a soft, disapproving click of his tongue. 

“No,” he says, finally dropping his hands. “I don’t think you should get what you want. I’m going to make you feel good instead. Well-“ his mouth curves into a barely there smile that your brain registers as danger in the same way the bright color of a frog means poison. “You’re going to make yourself feel good.” 

Your brain works over this statement. “Huh?” 

You don’t understand until Sae has your panties off and is fucking two fingers into you. He’s just tall enough like this that he can kind of overwhelm you, his chin resting on top of your head, his chest to your back. 

“Go on,” he says, almost disinterestedly, like he’s not knuckle deep in your cunt. “Make yourself feel nice.” 

“Sae,” your voice rises. It’s a question. 

“Don’t be scared,” he presses a kiss against your neck, then your shoulder. His mouth is warm, not hot, but it burns against your skin. You remember the scald for longer than you should. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Sae doesn’t get mean when you’re drunk. He’s always patient and gentle with you. He never does anything you don’t want to do. He only gets more vocal, a little more rough with his language. You don’t know why vulnerability in you unlocks this in him, but it does. 

Hesitantly, you lift your hips. His other hand wraps itself around your waist, helping you bounce in his lap as you try to mimic his rhythm from what you remember. Soon enough, you grind to a halt even as the pleasure building in you protests. 

“Why’d you stop? You can’t?”

You shake your head. 

“Oh, of course.” He sounds so pleased about it. “You don’t want to.” 

You don’t even have the nerve to say it out loud, so you can only nod your head. You could get off from this, but you’d rather have him do it. The way you desire him is devastating. You’ll never be able to recover from it. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.” 

A third finger slips in, and then for the first time, Sae presses his thumb against your clit. You jerk like you’ve been shocked with electricity. 

He smothers a smile against your hair, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head, almost cat-like. You’re too busy drowning in pleasure to notice this moment, but he’ll remember this for the two of you. 

He continues to pet at your clit ruthlessly, little touches that have you choking on that growing sensation within your belly. You’re so full of him, of it, that you imagine you can taste it in the back of your throat. Something like fear has been knocked loose inside of you and the trembling grows with it. 

It’s too intense. You’re scared of it. It’s going to burn you up, inside out. It’s going to hurt as much as it feels good. 

“Relax,” Sae mutters. “Let go.” 

Your instincts are howling and scratching at you, but you have no idea what nature is telling you to do. 

“Can’t-“ you can’t stop moving even now, can’t stop chasing what you know you won’t reach. “Can’t- Sae- help me!” 

“What’s wrong?” He coos. “I told you to make yourself feel good.” 

“Sae,” his name comes out on a broken moan. “Sae.” 

All but that fades into incoherence, robbed from you by something indescribably old, written into your cells. The feeling is still building, like pressure but if pressure had sharp teeth. You gasp and hold on to him. 

Once, as a child, you ran from a flood to higher ground. This time, nothing will save you. 

Because it’s not fear, which can burn away in daylight. It’s your consciousness, whole and entire, crumbling before you and you want it. Like an animal, you want to lose all control.

If you give everything to Sae, won't he take such good care of it?

“Come on,” Sae whispers directly into your ear. “What happened to your biology?” 

He says it like a taunt, but you have nothing left in you to care. After all, he’s right. Your brain is gone and your nature has taken over. 

You turn your face against him so as to muffle your noises, loud, wet; your mouth gumming against his shirt in a mindless bite that does nothing, goes nowhere. Sae wants to hear you even more than he wants to see you when he comes, but he lets you be and focuses on working over your clit. 

“There we go,” he says softly. “There’s my omega.” 

“Alpha,” you whine back, completely lost. You’re drooling for him, so wet it leaks onto his pants. 

“Not quite,” Sae says. His mouth twitches with the knife edge of his smile, a sharp thing that there’s then gone. 

“How many do you think you can give me?” He asks. Your pussy twitches around him, aware that he’s talking but not sure what he’s really saying. 

“Sorry. Forgot you can’t reply,” he says. “We’ll play it by ear.” 

That’s okay with you. 

Sae is the jagged rocks you break yourself against. The freezing water beneath the bridge you drive off. The burn of smoke from that first drag of addiction. 

Sae is a means of self destruction that you are all too happy to use. Wanting and hungry, you always crawl back for more. 

That’s what he counts on, anyway. 

He breaks you down. You break him open. 

Inside the hard shell of him is something sweet and gooey. 

Whatever Sae is when he’s with you is doting and pliant. It coos over you like it can’t help itself. He’s not an alpha. He doesn’t dominate. There’s no need, much less desire. Sae has always been a softer authority. 

His heart is all tender for you, soft and open. 

[humanteethmarksonhumanbone]

SUCCESS!!

i got all the materials for my jane prentiss dress and mr bonzo flip inside out plushie all in the same go for the sweet price of $13 ✊✊

[daisychain-unchained]

🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

aww thank you! ❤️ I love any excuse to share my recent song obsessions lol

the only traffic I can tolerate is the one that has Steve Winwood in it

this really fits the vibe of the climax in my current LOTR reading, and the only chance I have to sing along is alone in my car to really give it my all

my father-in-law in all his whimsy

she's so slept on :(

since it's basically summer here, this is an immediate must-play

[juleswritesstuff]

Holy hands, will they make me a sinner ?

You seem to have a little secret. Regulus figures you out immediately.

regulus black x fem!reader

warnings: smut

“If you bore holes in them I won't be able to finish my essay, Y/n” 

His voice brings you back from the apparent state of trance you had unconsciously fallen into. Blinking rapidly, you regain perception of the walls of your dorm room surrounding you and the myriad of books scattered across your bed.  You shift your gaze to his gray eyes and you find them already set on you.

“Pardon ?” your voice has a confused edge that almost makes him chuckle.

“My hands” he explains, his tone as neutral as ever “You were staring”

Your eyes go a little wide, like you had been caught stealing the last chocolate frog of the stash. You swallow, trying to compose yourself as best as you can.

“I was doing no such thing” you declare, a bit too solemn and defensive to be the truth.

Regulus pins you with an unimpressed look, his left brow arching just enough to tell you that he isn't buying any of your bullshit.

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. 

It is no use hiding something from Regulus Black. He will find out one way or another, and you got caught right with your hands in the jar.

“Ok, fine” you admit, lifting your shoulders to make it seem like the most casual thing ever “I was looking at your hands”

Regulus’ expression doesn't change, but the glint of amusement flashing in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

“More like ogling, I would say” even his tone has a playful bite to it.

You like this side of him. The Regulus who is able to relax a bit and let go when he is surrounded by the people he is comfortable with.

But carefree Regulus also means menace Regulus apparently.

“I wasn't ogling” you grumble, rolling your eyes “I was just admiring them” 

His eyebrows furrow.

“Why ?” he seems intrigued as the question leaves his lips.

Why, he has the courage to ask.

Well the answer is that Regulus Black has the prettiest, hottest, most gorgeous hands you have ever laid eyes on.

They are elegant, slender, the little veins underneath the pale skin gracing your eyes with their presence with every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles, producing a delicious design that hypnotizes you. 

They are smooth but decorated by light calluses, undoubtedly caused by Quidditch, that create a divine contrast with his otherwise untainted skin.

His fingers are long, lean, clad in silver rings that make your mouth water with how exquisitely sultry they make him look.

And suddenly, but not surprisingly, you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to have those hands on you, exploring every inch of your body, dancing on your skin like flames dance in the cold hair of the night. The cool metal of his rings being at odds with your scorching hot skin, making you hiss as his skilled fingers create a burning path over your body, traveling everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, chest, shoulders and stopping right at your neck, wrapping delicately, reverentially around it. Worshipping the sensitive skin, feeling the erratic pulse of your heart and-

“You’re doing it again” his words interrupt your spiraling for the second time that day, sounding dry and apathetic as always, but a hint of teasing twinkles in the otherwise coldness of his eyes.

“You have nice hands, that’s all” you manage to say without giving away all the less than pure thoughts flooding your mind in that moment. “From an artist point of view, obviously” you add, shrugging, trying to make everything less than obvious.

You really hope Regulus didn't learn to cast a Legilimes in his free time, otherwise you were well and truly screwed.

Bringing up your passion for drawing is futile and you know it. You know he knows the drooling over his hands isn't for the sake of art. You can't fool Regulus Black, not even if you try to.

Which is both extremely annoying and criminally hot in your humble opinion.

But pretending is the only thing you can do to not feel embarrassed, holding onto the hope that maybe he doesn’t have you all figured out.

“So you’re saying that your interest is purely artistic ?” he cocks a brow as his head tilts slightly.

There’s something in his voice, in his eyes, that you can’t quite figure.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion.

“Yes, of course” you answer, trying to hide the stutter of your voice as best you can.

You are pretty sure he knows that you aren’t telling the truth, he somehow always knows. He reads you like an open book, and, for someone who doesn’t engage in showing his emotions too often, he is pretty damn good at reading the ones of others. 

So why that question ? You almost expected him to tell you to cut it out and get back to study because that essay isn’t gonna finish itself.

This is new, unexpected. 

Interesting.

“Would you like to draw them ?”

Your eyes go wide in surprise.

Wait.

What ?

Never, in all the years you have known each other, had he offered to model for you. 

He knew about you having an interest in arts, he even saw a couple of your drawings and paintings and he often asked about them and how they were coming up, but he never asked to be in them.

You never brought up the suggestion either. He is a reserved guy and he loathes having eyes on him, so you figured he would’ve never accepted even if you did.

That never stopped you from sketching him from afar, though. Those gorgeous features deserve to be portrayed.

But why the sudden proposition ?

You aren’t stupid. Regulus might know you like the back of his hand, but you could say the same about him. And this, whatever this might be, is not like him at all. 

Regulus never does anything for nothing, there is always an explanation, a reason to his every move. You think even his breaths are perfectly calculated.

But this time the why gets lost on you, and the harder you try to understand the less it all makes sense.

“I can see the gears in your brain twinsting and turning,” he says, calm and composed as ever.

He is sitting on your bed, the quill he was using to write his Charms paper now abandoned next to him. His back is perfectly straight, leaning on the headbord to support his weight. The raven strands of his hair create soft waves that frame his face in a delicate and enchanting way. His lips are stretched in a rare, playful smile, curling up slightly on the left side.

He is beautiful. Dangerously so.

“It’s just-” you are confused, there is no doubt about that, but most of all you are intrigued “You have never asked me before”

“I know” 

That’s his only answer. Simple, concise. Enigmatic. 

Just like him.

“So why now ?” 

The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help it, curiosity is consuming you, and the possibility of learning a new part of him makes your skin tingle with excitement.

“Why not ?” he shrugs “There is a first time for everything, right ? So why not now ?”

There is still that glint of something in his eyes. You don’t know what it is, you don’t think you would be able to give it a name even if you knew, but it's there, and it’s strong.

“I’ll get my supplies then” 

You slowly get up from the bed, feeling your heart in your throat in a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you retrieve your album and a pencil.

When you sit back down you notice that the books have been neatly stacked in a small pile next to your bed and all the papers, previously scattered all over your sheets, are nowhere to be seen.

“Figured we might need the space” he says, like he read your mind.

“Thank you”, you give him a small smile before opening your album, turning the pages one by one, until you find a blank sheet, ready to be filled.

“Where do you need me ?” 

The way he utters those words with the utmost nonchalance, apparently unaware of the effect they have on you, nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

Everywhere, you think, before mentally smacking yourself.

You need to get a grip, for Merlin’s sake.

“Right there is fine,” you're able to say without your voice faltering “just angle your hands towards me, so the light is right”

He does as he is told, adjusting his position and moving his hands a bit to the right, veins on full display and rings shining under the warm rays of the sunset seeping through the window.

“That’s good” your mouth is suddenly dry as you gulp at that sight.

He is a bit far, and the light doesn’t hit as perfectly as you had expected, but you’ll work with it. If squinting your eyes a bit is the price to pay to maintain your mental sanity, then so be it.

Then you start drawing. The only sound filling the room is the gentle scraping of your pencil as your eyes focus on the white sheet in front of you, your gaze shifting to his hands ever so often to take a peek at them, like you haven't learnt every detail by heart.

You can feel his eyes on you. You try not to focus on it, but the shivers those pools of the color of a summer storm send down your spine are difficult to ignore.

“You’re straining your eyes” he blurts out of the blue.

Observant as always.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your gaze never leaving the paper “this distance is good for perspective” 

“But it’s a problem for the lighting”

Those words make you lift your head up, your brows knotted in a frown.

How does he-

“And what would you know about the lighting ?” you eye him suspiciously, a small grin curving your lips.

“I guess all your rambles about that muggle painter weren’t in vain” he says, and there’s a cheekiness in his tone that is completely new to you “Caravaggio, right ?”

Your grin turns into a full smile.

“Right,” you nod, your eyes widening a little “I can’t believe you actually remember”

“I remember a lot of things,” he remarks defensively.

“Only those important enough to you” the teasing in your voice is light, playful, as your pencil glides on the sheet swiftly, adding strokes and shadows here and there.

There’s a beat of silence.

One second. Two. Three. And then-

“Exactly”

Your hand halts every movement, freezing completely. You look up from your paper and you find his gaze already on you.

Suddenly you are lost. Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually able to hear it.

The implications of that single word swirl in your brain, creating a hurracane of thoughts that almost gives you whiplash. 

He doesn’t give you the time to even think properly about what he may have just suggested, because he decides to speak again. 

“I can come closer if you need me to” his voice is lower, deeper, oozing with that same something he’s had in his eyes since he caught you staring at his heavenly hands.

You want to scream. You have no idea of what the hell is going on and it’s confusing the shit out of you.

You know he is asking for that forsaken drawing you still have in your lap, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it. The electricity in the room is so high it feels like an open cable sending sparks flying everywhere, setting the air on fire. 

The only coherent thought in your brain is a chorus of yes, please and nothing else.

So you cave.

“You can,” you manage to say, because the necessity to protect your sanity might be strong, but the need to have him close to you is apparently stronger “if you want to”

His gaze is so penetrating you feel it in your soul, consuming you from the inside out and setting your whole body ablaze.

It’s compelling, hypnotizing even. 

“This is not about what I want, Y/n”

Oh, the way those words leave his perfect lips, making shudders erupt all over your body should be studied. 

Your world shifts on its axes and it starts spinning ten times faster. Because he knows. 

He knows. 

“We're not talking about art anymore, are we ?” you ask, swallowing soundly as your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Were we ever talking about that in the first place ?” his question is rhetorical. He doesn’t need an answer because he already knows it. He figured you out, like he always does.

So what was the point in pretending anymore ?

“No,” you admit “I guess we weren't” your trembling hands move the paper out of the way.

There is a spark in his eyes. It’s foreign, thrilling even, and it makes your skin prickle in the best way.

Suddenly he moves. He shifts his weight forward, approaching you slowly. The veins in his arms and hands bulging from the pressure and knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“So tell me” he whispers, crawling to you bit by bit, like a hunter advancing towards his prey. He seems to be calm, poised, totally in control of his body as he comes closer and closer.

It’s his eyes that betray him. 

They have always been the window to his feelings, talking more than his mouth ever did. And right now they are burning, engulfed by a heat that makes your legs weak and your heart roar. The realization hits you, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins.

They are hungry.

“Tell you what ?” you stutter, unable to regain a hold of yourself. You can’t breathe, your palms are sweaty, you feel hot all over and he is close, so damn close.

He stops right in front of you, mere inches between your faces and a tension so heavy you can cut it with a butter knife.

“What you want” the warmth of his breath delicately caresses your skin. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his eyes following the movement intently almost making you squirm under his gaze.

“You seem to know what I want” you murmur breathlessly, your body heating up in response to his proximity. 

Those hands, protagonists of some of the filthiest dreams you’ve ever had, are right next to you. Close enough to graze the skin of your thighs with his knuckles, but never indulging in the act. Like he is teasing you, waiting for you to beg for it. You shift your gaze to them and you swallow hard, the need to feel them on you growing stronger every second that passes. 

You are about to fucking combust.

His silver eyes are still fixed on you, intense and magnetic, as they follow your line of sight.

“I won't move a muscle unless you tell me to, Y/n” 

Those words, mouthed so close to your lips and mixed with the low, velvet-like husk of his voice, make your legs clench and your stomach churn in the best way possible.

You can’t take it anymore.

You move forward, abandoning your position on the bed to place your legs on each side of his hips, almost straddling him. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping you to keep your balance, feeling the lean muscles underneath the shirt as you hover over him.

His head tilts up, eyes sharp and hot and glued to yours. You hear him suppress a hiss as your thighs brush his hips. His arms are still next to him, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

He is restraining himself. From touching you. 

Your thoughts are clouded, your mind hazy and completely out of it. The only thing you want right now is for him to place those perfect fucking hands on you and never stop.

“Do it” your voice is so weak and breathy it’s a miracle he hears you.

“Do what ?” he mouths, so close to your lips it makes your head spin.

You’re needy, desperate even, but you don’t care. You don’t have time to think right now. You want to feel.

“Touch me” you beg.

“Where ?” he sounds just as gone as you are, and you finally crumble.

“Everywhere”

It’s nothing more than a whisper but it shakes the both of you like an earthquake. 

You meet in the middle, your lips colliding and completely knocking the breath out of you.

His mouth is sinful, greedy, chasing yours with a hunger that almost makes you melt on the spot. You get lost in the softness of it, in the ungodly brush of your tongues making you moan breathlessly. You bite and nibble and lick and he follows you, matching the languid pace just as eagerly, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the black strands delicately. The low groan that escapes his throat sends goosebumps all over you.

You are so focused on the filthy dance of your mouths that you almost miss the agonizingly slow graze of his fingers on the exposed flesh of your legs, gently tracing a path on your thighs.

The metal of his rings meets the hotness of your skin and you hiss.

Oh, it’s just as delicious as you imagined.

“Ah- fuck” you pant, millimeters away from him. Your head feels light, dizzy. 

You feel like you’re dreaming, lost in your own fantasies.

But his hands running up and down your thighs feel too fucking good to be just a product of your imagination. They travel slowly, excruciatingly so, making you lose your mind with every new inch of skin they explore. 

Until they sneak under your skirt, reaching your hips to gently knead the supple skin, applying enough force to bring you forward.

“Sit” It feels more like a plea than an order but-

Holy shit.

A gasp escapes your mouth before you can stop it.

Every cell of your body threatens to explode as he pushes your weight on him all the way, making you straddle him completely.

“Fucking finally” he curses, more to himself than to you, like he has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

His eyes are dark, fogged up by lust and need, and it's the lewdest thing you have ever witnessed.

“I have never seen you like this” you whisper directly on his lips, nibbling on the plush flesh.

He smirks, smirks for Salazar's sake, as his fingers move, reprising their mission to make you lose every ounce of control.

“It seems you were busy looking at something else”

His thumbs rub the skin of your inner thigh in a hypnotizing manner, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

You whimper as they get closer and closer to your core, your grip on the junction between his neck and shoulder tightening in pleasure.

But he must take it as some sort of sign of discomfort because he halts suddenly.

“Want me to stop ?” his eyes search for yours, the veiled concern in them making your heart stutter.

“Don’t you even dare” you say, a mere breath away from him before you dive in, capturing his mouth again.

It's messy and dirty and you get addicted to his taste way too quickly.

His hands move up, massaging your skin at every caress of your tongues, until they reach the hem of your panties.

He moves away from your lips for a quick moment, and he looks at you.

The silent ‘Can I ?’ written in his eyes almost makes you swoon.

You nod your head.

“I need words, chérie” he whispers sensually.

The combination of his right hand so close to your most sensitive spot, his left one traveling up to your hip, holding it tightly, posessivly, and that fucking pet name almost make you cum on the spot.

“Yes” you practically beg.

Only then he resprises his journey of exquisit torture along your body.

“Shit-” you quiver as he kisses your neck, branding the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. His hands move, fingers skilled and sinful as they reach your heat.

You mewl as they make contact with the light material of your underwear.

“Jesus Christ” hs hisses a groan “you’re soaked”

A series of choked out whimpers leaves your lips as he strokes his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck- Reg” a moan ripples from your lips when his thumb brushes your clit tentativley, making you gasp. Your hands fly to his hair, lightly pulling the soft strands with trembling fingers.

“Look at you, all horny and needy over my hands” his voice is tantalizing but you can hear the breathlessness, the strain in it. He is affected by this just as much as you are and it makes you go almost feral.

“Please” you breathe. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Your mind is too hazy, too fogged up by lust and need to have a single coherent thought in it.

But he sure does know, because his digits move your panties to the side, just enough to glide over your slickness, making contact with the tender skin of your folds and spreading your wetness all over.

Finally, finally the hands consuming your every thought are on you, right where you had craved and imagined them the most.

You arch your back in ecstasy, biting your lip.

And it’s when his middle finger eases inside of you, slowly breaching your velvety walls, that you lose it completely.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs, liquid fire engulfs every cell of your body, every nerve and muscle consumed by pleasure.

“Regulus-” it’s the only thing you manage to mewl as he slides in and out of you in a rhythm so sensual and sultry it makes you melt. The cold metal of his ring meets the warm, sensitive skin of your cunt with every prod, creating a delicious contrast.

You never break eye contact, your gazes locked together drinking in every little detail, every wave of bliss swimming in them.

“Is this what you fantasized about, love ?” he pants right on your lips “All the times I caught you staring, is this what you were imagining my hands doing ? Fucking you senseless, feeling how tight and needy you are ?”

His words are as dirty as his eyes as he slides another finger into you, making you inhale sharply and stretching you out so good you could almost cry. 

“Ohmygodyes” you moan as your hips start moving to their own accord, meeting the prodding of his fingers eagerly, riding his hand like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“But this is not the only fantasy you have, right chérie ?” he teases, going faster, harder, pumping mercilessly and leaving you a blubbering mess.

His left hand leaves its place on your hip and moves up, grazing the soft skin of your stomach, the supple and tender flesh of your breasts, the natural dip of your collarbones, worshipping every inch of your skin in their path, until they reach their goal.

“I bet you thought about this too, didn't you ?” 

You were always sure this would remain just one of your daydreams, the kind of dirty thought that should remain in your mind and nowhere else. But Regulus Black was Regulus Black and reading you was one of his favorite hobbies.

It still comes as a surprise, though, when he delicately wraps his hand around your throat, resting it there, feeling every pulse of your heart, every pump of your blood and adorning your neck with the prettiest fucking necklace you could ever ask for.

“Yes” it’s nothing more than a breath, but it sends him into a frenzy. His right thumb rubs your clit relentlessly, adding to the unforgiving pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you with lewd, wet squelches. The whimpers coming out of your mouth are raw, filthy and downright pornographic as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Your head is in the clouds, a hundred thousands miles from earth as the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on you, fucking you to your release as the one on your neck squeezes the faintest bit, enough to almost send you over the edge.

His left thumb leaves its place right above your jugular, moving upwards to caress your jawline, your cheek and, lastly, your lips.

You can feel the digit caressing the red, bitten flesh, brushing it with reverence, worshiping it with his whole being. His heated gaze is bewitched, entranced by your mouth parting, welcoming him past your lips, and lightly grazing the pad with your teeth before enveloping it wholly.

“Bloody fucking hell, Y/n” he rasps, voice low and dangerously close to pleading as you suck on his thumb like it's the tastiest treat you have ever put in your mouth.

The hand on your cunt speeds its pace, pounding in and out of you like a fucking machine, the vibrations on your little bundle of nerves getting more intense by the second, sending you over the edge in a mess of moans and whimpers.

“Reg, fuck, I'm-”

You reach your release with his name on your lips, back arched and hips rolling to help you ride your orgasm on those unholy fingers of his. 

Your vision is blurred, your brain fuzzy and overwhelmed by bliss as you slowly come back to your senses.

It takes you a few seconds to regain control of your body and mind, but when you do you are graced with a vision you are sure you will never forget.

The ever composed and collected Regulus Black is right in front of you with his expression contorted in pure lust, eyes bleary and unfocused, hair tousled by your hands relentlessly stroking them, lips red and glossy from the heated kisses, tie loose, crooked and shirt crumpled.

He is a mess.

The hottest mess you have ever seen.

You're still not fully out of your head space when he speaks again.

“You're loud” he grins, his tone teasing but still a little raspy.

“You're filthy” you bite back weakly, your voice hoarse and strained. 

“Maybe. But I don’t think I'm the only one” 

The fingers that have been inside of you not even a moment ago are now in front of you, coated and glistening with your essence.

He slowly brings them closer to your mouth, and you don't even think twice before eagerly welcoming them inside it.

The taste of yourself mixes with the metallic tinge of his rings as you suck leisurely, restraining a moan before he takes them out with a wet pop.

“Sale fille” he groans in french, lowly and right on your parted lips, before he dives in an alluring kiss. (Dirty girl)

It's slower than all the others you shared, but it's deeper, sensual and it almost gets you worked up all over again.

His tongue meets yours in a erotic dance and when the taste of your very essence coats his tastebuds a moan rumbles in his throat.

“You're sweet” his voice is nothing more than a whisper as his teeth nibble at your lower lip gently.

“Want me to find out if you're sweet, too ?” You offer with a teasing smile on your lips . His hands might be your biggest fantasy, but they sure as hell are not the only part of him you fantasize about.

“Eager, are we ?” he teases playfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “Not today, chérie”

The little pet name creates butterflies in your stomach and makes your cheeks warm, but doesn't hide your disappointment. 

“Why ?” you ask, your hands going to fiddle with his tie.

“As I told you, this is not about what I want” he explains, his arms circling you in a loose hug “and I don't know if you noticed, but it's pretty late”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, and only then you realize that the sun has already set and the room would be totally surrounded by darkness if it wasn't for the few magic candles lighting up automatically when twilight hits.

Your eyes widen.

“How long have we been here for ?” your voice has a panicked hint to it, making Regulus laugh.

“I'm pretty sure dinner is getting served right now” he says nonchalantly, like it's the most normal thing ever to engage in sexual activities with your best friend and miss supper because of it.

“Which might be for the best,” he adds.

“Why ?” you ask in genuine confusion.

“Because I’m the only one lucky enough to hear your dirty little sounds” he says with a shit-eating grin before kissing you again.

Thank you for reading 💖

[moonstruckme]

I cannot stop thinking about this looking at Sirius after he says something stupid and saying “you’re so pretty baby”

Hi haha not sure if this was what you meant but hope you enjoy <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 662 words

It’s hardly more than a murmur, the barest whisper of speech rising above the soft nighttime symphony of crickets and frogs as you and Sirius lay in the grass looking up at the starry sky. 

“I think I could bench press the moon.” 

It takes a blink for you to process that, and even then you’re still not sure you’ve heard him right. “You what?” 

“I think I could lift the moon,” Sirius says in the same contemplative, tranquil voice. “Like, if I had to. With the way gravity is up there, it can’t be that hard, right?” 

A smile starts to form on your lips, and you turn your head to look at your boyfriend. “Oh, so you mean that if you went up into space and got below the moon, you think you’d be able to lift it?”

Sirius seems to think for a moment. Then he nods, still facing the sky. “I mean that if we were to somehow get a bench up there below the moon, I think I could bench press it. I’m not saying it’d be easy, but I could do it.” 

“You know there are, like, meteors that crash into the moon and don’t move it, right?” It’s impossible to keep the laughter out of your voice at this point, and Sirius looks over with a frown. “You think you’re stronger than a meteor?” 

“Maybe the meteors just haven’t tried the right angle.” 

You sigh dreamily, lifting a hand to brush your knuckles delicately across the fine plane of his cheekbone. “Sirius, baby,” you say, running a silken strand of hair between your fingers, “you’re so pretty. So, so pretty.” 

Dark eyebrows rise, and Sirius’ lips curl into an odd half-smile. “I know I am. Are you calling me dumb?” 

“No, not dumb.” You pull your lips to one side, toying with his hair while you think. “Just…not always the sharpest crayon in the box.” 

He laughs darkly. A giddy static goes through you, and it takes some effort to keep up your placid facade as you curl a piece of hair around your finger. 

“So you’re the brains of this operation, huh?” he asks you slowly. 

You hum. “If you say so.” 

“And you don’t think I could bench press the moon. I’m dumb and weak, is that it?” 

“Sirius,” you laugh. “I don’t think anyone could bench press the moon. It has its own gravity, and I’m not totally sure how that works but I’m pretty sure it means you can’t just toss it around like a beach ball.” 

“You think I’m not strong.”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“No,” he allows, calm settling over his features in the split second before he strikes, grabbing one of your hands in his and then the other as he rolls on top of you. “You just think my looks are all I’m good for. Did I get that right, sweetheart?” 

You laugh, trying to use your legs to push him off, but Sirius pins down your thighs with his knees. “I’m just saying,” you giggle, “it’s a good thing you’re pretty. Can’t you just accept the compliment?” 

“Oh, so that’s all I am to you.” His voice is scornful, but a playful mirth gleams in his eyes. “Just a hot piece of ass for you to strut about, huh?” 

“Maybe,” you bait, giggles worsening when he nips cruelly at the skin below your ear. “You’re like my trophy boyfriend.” 

Sirius squints down at you, and he really is lovely, all dark hair and brows that contrast against his pale skin. He looks like someone’s charcoal drawing come to life. The work of a very skilled artist, certainly.

He grins. “Fine,” he says, voice all smoothed out by certainty. “You can be the brains, honey, and I’ll just sit pretty. But that means it’s your job to figure out how to get me and a bench to the moon, because I’m gonna prove your smart ass wrong.”

[her-satanic-wiles]

Guess Who?

Papa Emeriti I, II, III & Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader

Game night takes a turn when you end up blindfolded and tied on the table, at the mercy of all of your beloved Papas. The name of the game: figure out who’s touching you. You win: you cum. They win: they use your body however they see fit.

For @da-rulah, because I sent her a scenario that hurt her wittle feewings, and so now I’m facing the consequences of my actions. I hope you enjoy, Bee. ✌🏻😘

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

Warnings: aftercare, alluded/implied sex work, anal play, biting, bondage (using a rope), breath play, breeding, bukkake, choking, cream pie, cum eating, cunnilingus, degradation, fellatio, fingering, finger sucking, free use, gang bang, groping, MMFMM, objectification, plus size!reader, PIV sex, praise, premature ejaculation, pussy slapping, rope play, rough sex, running a train, sensory depravation (blindfold), skull fucking, spit-roasting, squirting, tag teaming, talking about you as if you weren’t there, tickle kink (if you squint), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it folks), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @xshadyladyx @x1nd1g0x @likeloversentwined @high-above-the-city @copiaspet622 @sister-of-sin-claudia @foxybouquet @inkstainedrat @ad-astra-per-aspera1976 @ravensbars @ultrahalloweengirl @susulbr @frog-scream @ghulehunknown @namelessghoulindisguise @onlyhereforghost @mercbeans

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Game night was usually a night reserved for only the brothers Emeritus, who usually enjoyed card games with only the three players. Every week without fail, the three men would gather in the wine cellar of the Ministry and play cutthroat games of Uno while drinking bottles of the Ministry’s finest by candlelight. It wasn’t often they’d invite a fourth in, rarely finding a person close enough to all three of them that they’d be able to relax and have fun with. But it wasn’t unheard of. Which is why the decision was unanimous when your name was thrown into the middle.

You were the favourite of all the Papas and the whole Ministry knew it. You were their closest friend and companion, the one who had the most in common with them and compassion for them. The one who made them feel the best both in and out of the bedroom. Yes, okay, the relationship you had with them all was… unique. It wasn’t often in any part of the world that brothers would share a woman and be happy doing so. But if it worked for all of you, you’d hardly say no. There was something so deliciously degrading about being passed around the Ministry’s highest ranking men like a commodity to be shared - as though you were nothing more than an object. It was so delicious because it wasn’t true. Of all the people you’d been with during your time at the Ministry, no one had treated you more kindly, more respectfully, and prioritised your pleasure quite like the Emeritus brothers. And so, almost every evening, you’d find yourself ‘rented’ for the night, and would end up tangled in the sheets with one of the Papas. And every time you needed to perform a ritual, it was always to one of them you’d call.

They’d tried getting you in on game night a few times before, but it just so happened that you were usually busy and had made plans before they’d been able to ask. How popular could one person be?

It turned out you didn’t have so many friends that they all kept you busy, rather you had one friend who took up most of your time away from the three Papas: Cardinal Copia. The Cardinal had inadvertently kept you all to himself mostly because you were his closest friend. Copia was the kind of man to put all his effort into one relationship rather than several, which meant you were the only one of his friends he wanted to spend time with. As that was the case, he had taken up so much of your free time, he made it impossible for the Papas to pin you down and drag you to game night. So, they dragged the bumbling Cardinal to game night, too.

The five of you were hunched round an aged table, the thing losing its integrity from the little upkeep that was done to it over the years. The layers of stain and paint gave it a more plastic feel, and one of the legs was propped up with the King James’ Bible, the book itself dirty from years of shoes resting on it. Clockwise, Primo headed the table, followed by Copia, You, Terzo and ending with Secondo. You only had two cards left, and felt smug at that. The closest person to you was Secondo, who had 3 cards. Everyone else was five cards or, in Copia’s case, much more. The typical banter and shit-talk ensued, you teasing Terzo about how you were going to win, Primo constantly pulling the cheapest moves like adding +2 cards or reversing so that Copia would have to draw more or wouldn’t get to play. Copia promising violent vengeance every time Primo screwed him over, which would earn titters of amusement from Secondo and Terzo.

Finally, Terzo had played his card allowing you to drop your penultimate one on top of his, your red 4 landing on his blue 4, with a cheery “Uno!” falling from your lips, despite Primo and Copia’s conversation that was murmuring in the background.

Secondo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Cardinale!” He called, breaking up the conversation. “It is your turn.”

“___ hasn’t had her turn yet.” Copia protested.

“She just did.”

Primo smirked, a devilish smile on his lips. “Our dear ___ didn’t claim ‘Uno!’. You have to take five cards.”

“I did!” You exclaimed, offended at Papa Primo’s accusations. You told him as such.

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

“To be fair, Cardinale, you were talking.” Secondo insisted, fighting your corner.

Terzo sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “There is nothing for it, amore.” He exclaimed. “Two insist you did not say it, two insist you did. Therefore, you must be punished some way, no? Either, take five cards like my fratello told you to do, or…”

“…Or?” You asked impatiently, bracing yourself for Terzo’s ultimatum. You knew it would be a suggestive offer, but you didn’t know exactly what he’d choose.

“Or, you take off that pretty little habit of yours and play the rest of the game in your underwear.”

Secondo jumped in. “___, you don’t have to do either.”

Primo, who secretly hoped you’d choose Terzo’s second option, also chimed in. “Well, you do have to take five cards if you don’t get naked for us.”

“Papa?” Copia asked, eyebrows raised. He clearly wasn’t expecting Primo to go along with it.

“What? You cannot expect an old man to be completely adverse to a beautiful woman stripping herself bare for my enjoyment - provided she consents, of course.”

Terzo, “If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold thy peace.”

Everyone immediately shot subtle glances at Copia, expecting the only man in the room who you’d not fucked yet to object. But, with blushing cheeks, he sat back and much to everyone’s surprise, remained quiet.

You slammed your card on the table and stood from your seat, hands immediately flying to and removing your veil. “This is bullshit.” You said, undoing the buttons at the front of your habit before pulling the whole thing over your head. You were met with sounds of appreciation, whistles, hoots and hollers - most of which came from Terzo who was more than happy to watch you reveal your gorgeous, plump body in order to win the game. You sat back down, breasts and stomach jiggling with the force, thighs splaying out against the chair as you sat. You watched as Secondo was mesmerised by your curves. He said nothing, wanting to keep things with you as respectful as possible, but he loved your body: loved watching it bounce each time he fucked into you, loved laving and sucking on your nipples, biting them just to earn that sound from your throat. It didn’t matter that he was a middle aged man with the total ability to control himself, when it came to you, he was a constant horny mess.

The game continued, Copia had his turn, Primo, Secondo, Terzo, then back to you. Finally, and with much grumbling from the rest of them, you played the final card and won the match. “And I did it all whilst naked.” You bragged. “This is why you never invite me to this nights - you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“We don’t always play Uno, you know.” Primo stated, resting his elbows on the table.

“Doesn’t matter, any game you throw my way I’ll win.” You responded petulantly.

“Oh you think?” Terzo asked, eyebrows raising.

“I know.”

“Prove it.” Secondo sounded from the other side of the table.

“Name the game, Papa.”

“What did you have in mind, fratello?” Questioned Terzo again.

Secondo sat back, his body language oozing confidence with a menacing glint in his eyes. “A game even our friend over there can play if he’s willing.” He gestured to Copia, who swallowed nervously. “We got some rope down here, some cloth. We strip you naked, blindfold you, and touch you however we want. You have to guess who it is. You guess correctly, we make you cum then move to the back of the line. Guess incorrectly, and we get to do what we want to you. You have to guess the majority correctly in order to win, if you don’t, well, we’ll decide what happens to you. Think you could win then?”

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

“I- I…” He stammered, torn between wanting to play but not wanting to ruin your friendship.

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

Primo patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Well then,” you reached round your back and unhooked your bra, throwing the fabric to the stone cold floor and feeling your nipples harden at both your arousal and the change in temperature, “let’s play.” Your panties were the next to go, followed by your shoes and socks, leaving you stood on the wine cellar’s floor naked as the day you were born. With each move you made, your body jiggled slightly, earning more groans of appreciation from the men who remained. Terzo even coming up behind you and pressing himself against you, hands roaming all over your body and grabbing handfuls of you where he could.

“Can’t wait for you to guess incorrectly so I can fuck you dumb, tesoro.” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

“We’ll see.” He stepped away from you and gave your ass a slap, watching it wobble with the force. He bit his bottom lip and moaned like he’d just eaten something delicious. “We will see.”

Secondo had gone and returned from getting the rope and cloth he saw, and began to bind you up in it, using the rope to tie your hands behind your back. “Your safe word is ‘bottle’, amore.” He told you placing a chaste but gentle kiss on your shoulder blade. “Does this feel okay?” He asked pulling on the rope.

“It feels fine, Papa.” You replied, feeling heat gather in your core and your breath already labouring.

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

And with that, your vision was blinded, your sense of sight plunged into darkness as Secondo tied the cloth gently behind your head, checking to make sure you were comfortable, before guiding you into position. You were lay against the small table, your head barely supported, with most of it hanging over the edge. You were lay on your back with your legs spread, your hands taking the weight of your back as it arched over the top of them. Your breasts had, for lack of a better term, pancaked as gravity was inistent on pulling them down. But even though Terxo made fun of that term, he loved the way you looked on your back for him. Your cunt was entirely on display with just how wide your spread legs had opened your labia, your wetness already visible to the men who stared at your body hungrily, like animals about to feed for the first time in weeks.

You felt Secondo kiss your thigh once before disappearing to join his brothers. Then, you heard all four of the men, in unison, say, “Carta, forbice, sasso!” Followed by skin slapping on skin.

Those fucking idiots were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to go first. You heard a few grumbles, but couldn’t make out who made what noise.

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

Then you felt it. A thumb running up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before finally rubbing over your clit - tight, little circles designed to drive you mad. Your hips bucked at the touch, a gasp escaping your lips at the surprise touch. His four fingers rested on your mound as an anchor, allowing more precise movements, and for him to put more pressure on your clit. You struggled against the rope, your hands moving out of habit wanting to reach your nipples, to pinch and pull at the buds like you usually did when someone played with your bundle of nerves. But the rope bit at your skin, burning slightly as you fought against it and making you scream out in frustration. “Fuck!” You breathed, body writhing beneath the calloused thumb. You wanted to try an work out who was doing it to you so you could win the game, but your mind went blank the second his thumb touched you.

The teasing was very much a Terzo trait, but the use of his thumb wasn’t. Terzo usually teased using his mouth or his cock. He didn’t have the drive to use one of his hands. Secondo used his hands a lot, loved to plunge them deep inside you and finger you open for him, having you screaming and begging for him to touch your clit. Which is how you knew this wasn’t Secondo. It couldn’t be Primo - he didn’t have the heart to tease. He’d always give you what you asked for in a heartbeat. Which meant it must have either been Terzo or Copia. As you’d never had sex with Copia, you couldn’t be sure what his methods were - and this touch did feel foreign. “Is it… is it Copia?”

You heard laughter from the other side of the room, followed by a “Dammit!” from Copia. “It’s me.” Copia pulled up one of the chairs and situated himself between your legs, getting himself ready for the task of making you cum. You felt his hot breath against your centre, erratic little puffs that hit your wet skin as he breathed through his nervousness. He took his time with you, almost as if he was psyching himself up. Copia had fucked before, and he was good at it. But he’d never fucked you. You could imagine that he was nervous because he wanted you to think he was good. And, if you had use of your hands, you’d tangle them in his brown hair and stroke his head gently, reassuringly. But instead, all you had were your little grunts of desperation to softly urge him on.

His moustache was the next thing you felt, tickling against your folds as his mouth made contact with you. The course hairs ran against your sensitivity as his tongue darted out to lap up the juices that were spilling from you. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing, screaming for something to fill it while Copia toyed with your clit, but he made no move to fill you, instead putting more pressure on you with his tongue as he continued to move up and down your slit, until finally he made permanent contact with your clit.

He tightened his tongue to make the tip more pointed to get a precise lick to your clit, swirling around it with his muscle and causing you to cry out in response, fighting against your restraints. His hot breath kept coming out from his nose, heightening your senses and making you hyper aware of just how much of a mess you were as tit hit the wetness seeping from you and making you feel cold. Your nipples were so hard and needing someone to play with them while Copia continued to drink you down like he was dehydrated.

He alternated between using his tongue only and pressing filthy kisses to your folds, practically making out with your cunt to get you off quicker. You could hear the sound of his lips smacking against your body, in between the broad strokes of his tongue he was providing for you. Tiny grunts would escape his lips as he ate you alive, treating you like the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you held down as much as he could so he could devour you easily. You could feel your high coming faster than you’d anticipated, or even wanted, but he was working you towards that end so fucking well, you were losing your breath and your mind.

“Copia, fuck!” You screeched, breathlessly. Your nails were scratching against the wood of the table, feeling the gross stickiness from the drinks’ condensation underneath your body, but feeling more filthy and used than disgusted. Your brain reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there were three other men watching this go on with just as much pleasure as you. You wondered if they were touching themselves. If they were watching you writhe with pleasure and stroking their cocks at the sight.

Copia’s lips wrapped entirely around your clit, moustache now soaked from your cunt, and he sucked. Hard. That tongue he used so precisely before was now slapping against your clit again, this time much faster than before. Because of this, the surprise change in pace and pressure, your orgasm hit you so violently, every single one of your nerve endings exploded beneath his touch, and set off a chain reaction around the rest of your body. Your muscles tensed, your breath was snatched from your lungs, your eyes (beneath the blindfold) closed even tighter, and your mouth had hung open in a perfect ‘o’, allowing a strangled moan to leave from your tightened throat that had closed in the strain of your orgasm. All the while, Copia refused to let up, keeping the pressure going even when you were trying to kick him away. He didn’t stop until he was sure your orgasm had subsided. He pressed one final kiss to your clit before he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone and spent on the table, recovering from one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Did that feel good, tesoro?” You head Terzo ask from the other side of the room. No one had approached you yet, meaning you couldn’t gauge whether Terzo was next or not.

Your brain was still scrambled, and you were barely able to manage a “uh-huh,” to respond to him, which earned a chuckle from all four of the men in the corner.

When the laughter died down, you heard more footsteps approaching you, stopping this time at the right side of you. You felt the silk of a robe glide over your bear skin, but as all of the Papa’s robes were made from the same material, you could only rule out Copia at that point.

You jumped in surprise at the feeling of four fingers immediately touching your stomach, rubbing two large, soft circles into the skin just to tease you. Those four fingers broke off as his hands went in two separate directions. The first moved upwards, running up over the mound of your breast, stopping to play with your right nipple - pinching and pulling at the bud just as you liked, and had needed for the past however long they’d been playing with you. The second hand moved downwards, mimicking the actions of the first by pinching and pulling, except this time it was on your clit. He wasn’t as rough with your clit as he was your nipple, given that your were still probably sensitive from your orgasm, but the torture was too fun even if you were suffering a little.

Those fingers that were playing with your cunt slipped inside your hole, immediately curving upwards and hitting that sweet spot that had you singing so beautifully for them. You only had the opportunity to cry out once before you felt the hand on your breast reach up to your neck, and squeeze the sides gently. His fingers were rough, working to hit your g-spot over and over again and make you squirm at his touch, and you felt your body shake with the force of it. The way he was using his hands against you, plus the roughness of them and the pit stop at your breasts made you confident enough to make your second guess.

“S-Secondo?”

Your stomach and heart sank when you heard dark laughter coming from the guys in the corner of the room. Secondo’s gruff voice sounded from far away, loudly speaking over the sound of your wetness squelching as the fingers inside you kept up their pace. “Wrong, amore.” He said, all too happily for you to be comfortable.

You smelled wine and sandalwood when the man leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear. “You’re mine now, tesoro.” Terzo claimed, his voice dark and heavily accented. His words were stretched telling you he was smiling as he spoke, unable to form them correctly. He revelled in the deception, removing his hands from your body and bringing his fingers up to your lips. “Open up for me.” He commanded, and once you obeyed, he put his middle and ring fingers covered in your cunt juices into your mouth. “Clean yourself up. Suck on them like you do my cock.”

You took those fingers into your mouth beautifully, putting on a show for him in hopes that he’d go easy on your body when he took what he wanted from you. A gutteral groan sounded from his mouth as he watched your lips stretch around his thick fingers, tongue grazing along the underside as you cleaned yourself from his digits. You bobbed your head fluidly, like you usually did when you took him in your throat, moaning around him and rubbing your thighs together. He always liked to know he had an affect on you - maybe appeasing his ego would help you out.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you heard him walk to your feet. His hands pried themselves in between your thighs to show your cunt to him like a piece of meat being inspected by a customer. You waited with baited breath as he decided what to do with you, no doubt in your mind that he was staring at your wetness with that glint in his eyes: the one that shows his excitement but could be mistaken for sadism if you didn’t know him. Or maybe they were the same thing. You felt his fingertips trace up and down the inside of your left thigh, before that hand disappeared. With the other on your right ankle keeping your legs spread and the other one missing, you could feel anticipation pool in your stomach.

SLAP.

His hand had come down hard on your cunt, fingers colliding brutally with your sensitive clit and stinging at the connection. You screamed out, body jerking with the attempt to slither away and close your thighs, but Terzo had already got himself between your legs, and there was nothing you could do but take it.

SLAP.

“Terzo!” You screamed, feeling your sensitivity dial up several notches with the second slap.

“Do you need to use your safe word, tesoro?” He asked.

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

“Want you nice and red for me when I fuck you dumb, tesoro. I told you that earlier.” This time, he rubbed his thick fingers over your clit, soothing the wound he was inflicting. “You’re already dripping enough. I could just slide in now, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, Papa!”

You felt his arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you towards the edge of the table. The rustle of his fabrics reached your ears telling you he was getting his cock out ready for you. Then you felt it: his heavy girth rubbing up and down your folds in typical Terzo fashion, the head rubbing against your cunt, encased comfortably by your lips. Every now and again, the tip would catch against your opening, and you held you breath for the push in that wouldn’t come until you least expected it. But when he did finally push inside you, your mouth fell open at the stretch. You were so sad you couldn’t watch his face, the look of it as he bottomed out on you always had you tightening around him. You were desperate to see his face crumpled up, showing you he loved being inside you.

“So fucking tight, tesoro.” He commented as soon as he was fully inside. You felt the crown nestle against your cervix, teasing you, reminding you that he was about to ruin you in all the best ways. He left you waiting for his true torture to begin, as you vaguely remembered that the only one who’d be cumming now was him.

He pulled out so his tip was almost entirely out of you, and then slammed back into you. The room echoed with the sound of the table scraping across the floor with the force of it. That sound, combined with your screams and whines, created the perfect symphony to Terzo’s onslaught.

Terzo always knew how to play you like a fiddle, pushing all of your buttons to have you walking beside the Gods. Today was no exception. Your legs had been extended to rest on his chest and over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your thick thighs for leverage as he thrust all the way into you.

Terzo fucked you like he paid for you, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt as quickly as he could move, taking only his pleasure from your body. You were lucky with all of your lovers, they were all giving and had just as much fun making you cum as they had doing the same for themselves. But sometimes, when you’d behaved in such a way to earn a punishment, you’d see all three of them be incredibly selfish and just take. Letting them use you like that, given the stark juxtaposition of their regular behaviour, always had you dripping for them, enjoying being nothing more than a living toy - a warm hole to sink into.

You clenched around Terzo’s cock as he fucked you - used you - for his own enjoyment. And, over the sounds you and your body were making, you heard Terzo’s rough voice. “Come here!” He said to someone else in the room. You heard footsteps that stopped beside Terzo. “Wrap your hand around her throat.”

The person obliged, their footsteps ending up by your head and then dropping their hand to your exposed neck. Terzo already had your body bouncing against him, ricocheting against his thrusts every time. The hand, because of this, had a little trouble grabbing onto your body, but eventually he managed it. His fingers and thumb rested against your esophagus and squeezed inwards, not restricting your airflow completely, but just enough to have you feeling the effects. Your mind had almost entirely melted, thinking of nothing other than Terzo’s cock pounding away inside you, hearing your own desperate whimpers as the hand around your pretty little neck heightened your pleasure and sensitivity.

“Who is it, tesoro?” Terzo asked, breathlessly. “Whose hand is that around your pretty little neck?”

The hand loosened enough to allow you to concentrate fully, but still rested on you to remind you of its presence. You had no idea. Not a single thought floated in your head. “Nuh!” You grunted with a particularly rough thrust. You had to guess someone. “P-Primo?”

You heard laughter, then Terzo’s voice cut through your brain. He made the sound of a buzzer, the kind of noise you hear when you get a question wrong. “Fuck her throat, Copia.”

“Fuck!” You exclaimed in irritation, kicking your feet against Terzo’s shoulder, gently.

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

“Of course.” You replied. He obviously wanted verbal consent, so you gave him just that, hearing him walk towards the crown of your head and adjust himself so his cock was completely free. You were maneuvered so that your head hung off the edge of the table, allowing a completely flat throat, and letting the Cardinal slide into your open mouth easily.

He hissed at the feeling of your tight, wet throat engulfing him with no trouble, thanks to the position you’d been put in. Copia tried to be kind to you, thrusting softly down your throat, and pulling out often to give you some breathing time. But you began to notice that the longer he spent inside you, the more he forgot his manners, and would spend more time fucking you between the breaths he gave you. This would make you clench tighter around Terzo’s cock, in part because your body was reacting to the loss of oxygen, but mostly because the feeling of being so thoroughly used had your mind swimming. Your body loved being degraded - reduced to nothing more than a set of holes to be used at any given time. Besides, you felt like Satanic Tinkerbell - you thrived under as much attention as you could possibly get, and felt like you’d die without it.

“Cazzo!” You heard Terzo grunt. His movements grew more and more erratic the closer he got to cumming. “Look at her throat.”

“Don’t.” Copia hissed again. “If I look, I’ll cum.”

“I can see the outline of his cock down your throat, tesoro. Every time he fucks inside you, I see it.”

You whined around Copia’s cock which spurred him to thrust forward a little more violently than he meant to. He wrapped his hand back around your throat and squeezed, crying out at how much tighter you got. “Oh merda! Oh cazzo!” Copia screeched. And, with no warning and just a strangled grunt, you felt Copia thrust into you one final time before he emptied himself into your throat, hands still wrapped around your throat, but with no pressure to them. He poured so much of himself into you, his body overreacting to his first time inside you. You heard Copia’s disappointed sigh as pulled out leaving you to swallow his load with a slight ache in your throat. You felt a string of your saliva spill onto your cheek, only to get the cloth covering your eyes damp where it settled and got soaked up. pulled out of you, “Wanted to last longer.” Copia commented.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” You heard Primo say. You remembered the first time Primo fucked you, too, and how he also didn’t last as long as he wanted… in fact, it was the same for all of them. You couldn’t help the sense of pride that washed over you reminiscing over that fact. “You gotta build up stamina to enjoy her completely.”

You tightened. Out of all of them, Primo was the kindest towards you - so to hear him talk about you as if you weren’t human did something to you that you should feel ashamed about. But instead it only made you wetter.

“Merda!” Terzo groaned. “Gonna fucking cum into this slutty cunt. You want that, tesoro?”

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

“I w-want you to fill me up so-oh bad, Papa! Fuck. Want y-you to fill me up and…” You cut yourself off, remembering that there were others present.

Terzo spanked your thigh and dropped his voice down to a quiet, husky plea. “Fucking say it. I dare you. Finish that fucking sentence.”

“Want y-you to fill me up and fuck a baby into me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

“You fucking whore!” Terzo exclaimed appreciatively. “Sathanas!” And that was all the warning you got before Terzo also emptied himself into you, cock twitching in over sensitivity as rope after rope shot into your cunt, his fingers digging into your plump calves as he tried to keep himself grounded. His knees were buckling at the force, and you felt his whole body tremble as it fought to keep him upright.

When his orgasm subsided, Terzo pulled out of you, a grunt coupling his unceremonious actions. He gently returned your legs to the table, trying to make sure that you were safe and comfortable again, before fiddling with his clothes. You assumed he’d turned to walk away, which is when you heard Secondo’s voice.

“Nuh-uh!” He scolded, clicking his fingers. You’d seen him scold Terzo before, there was no doubt in your mind that the click was followed by Secondo pointing to the problem. “Clean up your mess before someone else gets in there.”

You imagined Terzo rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager. He pulled up a chair, sat on it, and buried his face in your folds without warning. His tongue delved as deep as it would go, licking his own cum out from your cunt. Where his tongue wouldn’t reach, his fingers did, and every drop of himself was gulped down with attitude. He didn’t care a button for your pleasure this time, purely being down there just to clean you out to be used again. When he had finished, he patted your thigh twice and left you waiting and wanting for the next person.

“Wait,” you said quickly hearing all movement in the room stop, “if I keep my hands to myself, can you untie me? It’s starting to hurt.” The rope was burning against your skin now to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore. And, given that both of your arms were tied behind your back and you were laying on them, your arms felt dead and your back had begun to ache.

“Of course.” Terzo replied without thinking. He turned on his heels and rushed back to the table, his hands on your shoulders. “Sit up for me, tesoro.” He ordered, his voice much more kindly than it had been before. He helped you to sit upright. “That’s it - brava ragazza.” You felt his deft hands working at the rope Secondo had tied, making short work of it given that it was tied well. Once your wrists were free and the rope had been discarded, you felt Terzo’s gentle touch on your wrists, no doubt a little red from the irritation. “Ah, my poor amore.” He pressed his lips to them. “Battle scars, no?”

“So dramatic.” Secondo muttered from the other side of the room.

“I have some hand cream,” Primo said walking towards you, “it’ll be good enough until you get to one of our rooms and can be taken care of properly.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

You felt Primo and Terzo rub the hand cream into your wrists, their fingers working to moisturise the skin and help repair it as quickly as possible. Primo always kept stuff like this in his pockets - hard boiled sweets included. He was such a grandpa sometimes it made you laugh. Prepared for an apocalypse - you’d tell him that every time he pulled something out of his bag or pocket that would help.

Once they’d finished, Terzo pressed a kiss to your hand and walked away, while Primo rested his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that had you sighing and leaning into his touch. “You’re doing so good for us, fiorellina.” He praised. “Just a little longer.”

Primo left you alone and everyone watched as you lay back down for them, body splaying out against the wood. Your hands went to the edges of the table, clutching on to try and stop you from grasping onto the next man who took his place between your legs.

Terzo’s voice sounded from across the room. “You have to get this next one correct, tesoro. Or we win.”

“I will. Of course I will, are we kidding?” You responded, determination in your voice.

The room was silent while the next man moved towards you - his footsteps slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned out over your body, before finally you felt his tongue lave over your body: it ran all over your stomach, your thighs, back up to your breasts where he licked and sucked on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards as his mouth brought you so much pleasure. You had to resist the urge to clutch onto his head as you usually did whenever someone ran their tongue over your nipples. But that was when you felt it: a second tongue mimicking the patterns on your nipple and replicating it on your clit, pulling another moan from your mouth.

It was obvious that this was Secondo and Primo - although Copia had two chances, you doubt he’d have a third - or even that Terzo would come back for seconds.

“Secondo and P-Primo.” You said quickly.

“Well of course,” Terzo said, matter-of-factly, “but who’s doing what, tesoro?”

You thought you could get away with it, that they’d give you a break and let you have the win - but evidently not. “S-Secondo is - fuck -” you pushed your hips into the man’s mouth who was licking your cunt fervently. “Su-ucking on my clit.” It had to be, this was his style. He wasn’t usually gentle with your body, not when he’d been deprived for as long as he had been.

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

You quickly lifted it off your eyes and immediately flinched at the candlelight, despite it being low. You’d been in complete darkness the whole time, it was hardly surprising that you were struggling to see. Your eyes were blurred, and they took a while to completely adjust, but when they did, a wave of relief washed over you. You were right. Your hands immediately flew to Primo and Secondo’s heads, putting pressure on Secondo’s because he was where you needed him the most, but everyone knew that Primo’s ministrations and work on your nipples would have you tipping over the edge in no time.

Primo lifted his mouth off your nipple and attached it to your lips, fingers tweaking the opposite bud in lieu of his tongue. This kiss was just as tender as his first one, filled with such passion you felt yourself grinding on Secondo’s tongue much faster in pure desperation.

“You are doing so well, fiorellina.” Primo echoed his words from earlier, voice low, those words clearly meant for your benefit and your benefit only. “You please us so well. Take everything we give like a good girl.”

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

“Tell him, fiorellina. Ask him to make you cum.”

“Please!” You begged, your mind so far gone you could hardly stand it anymore. For the first time since you looked down at him, you were able to drink in the sight of the man between your thighs, roughly sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of you now like a man on a mission. You could only see the top of his head, given the rest of it was hidden by your cunt. You could only just see the bridge of his nose above your mound, his hands wrapped around your bruised, jiggling thighs, and him looking up at you through his lashes, a scowl on his brow with his determination to tip you over the edge. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes as he sucked you into his mouth, and it made your cunt clench tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Papa!”You called out to him, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. “Your t-tongue feels so… good. I’m so fucking close. P-please make me cum, Papa-ah! Wanna cum. Wanna cum so-oh I can… I can feel your c-cock deep inside me. Fuck! Just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st-op. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Secondo had pushed his face further into you, his tongue roving deliciously over your clit every time he sucked on it harshly.

“Cumming!” You announced via scream, your back arching off the table and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Your voice stopped, cut like someone had just turned the sound off but continued to play the video. Your second orgasm was violent, and wet. So very wet. Your vision was the first to go, dark patches swimming over your sight and eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they were clutching onto the table, your desperation forcing them there right as your orgasm hit lest you draw blood from your Papas. Secondo growled into your cunt as you released your cum onto him and the table below, the sound of your squirt hitting the floor as it poured from your body, combined with Secondo sucking it down greedily had your toes curling and your orgasm continuing. It felt like it went on forever, sending electric pulses all over your body until you couldn’t stand it and damn near passed out. All the while, you had Primo in your ear whispering to you; reminding you to breathe, telling you it was okay. You barely registered the fact that his hand was resting on top of yours, fingers bent to completely cover you.

Secondo stood from his place between your thighs and moved to your head to kiss you, letting one of your hands wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you as his mouth engulfed yours. Your other hand, which was still trapped beneath Primo’s, pulled out from its position and also pulled him toward you, breaking your kiss with Secondo so you could kiss Primo just as passionately. You felt Secondo’s fingers traverse the length of your body, before dipping back into your hole. “Mmmf!”You protested, muffled by Primo’s lips. You broke the kiss to look at Secondo. “Please not your hands!”

Secondo smirked. “You want my cock, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

You climbed off the table before bending over it, letting your body squish against the wood so tantalisingly, you heard appreciative groans coming from everyone in the room. Secondo came back to his original position, and fumbled around with his robes before he positioned his cock at your entrance. You could feel the weight of it against you as he ran it through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. The head of his girth rubbed against your sensitive clit, still twitching from the orgasm he gave you. Each rub caused you to whimper from the sensation, mouth hanging open and brow furrowing in pleasure.

When Secondo finally sank in, the stretch was divine. Secondo was so, incredibly thick and long, he reached depths that you had never felt before. Despite already being fucked once, your cunt was still forced open as though this was the first cock you’d taken in a long, long time. Your hands clutched onto the table again, grasping the edges tightly to ground yourself as you cried out, his own hiss of pleasure echoing in your ears as he, too, felt the effects of your extraordinarily tight pussy. He gave you time to adjust to him and his size once he’d buried himself all the way to the hilt, hands on your ass cheeks, gripping tight enough for the fat to squeeze between his fingers. A string of expletives in Italian fell from his lips, punctuated by a bite to your right hip. He thrust inside tentatively at first, hitting your cervix so deliciously, your eyes rolled back into your head and a delirious smile played on your lips. Secondo kept rocking into you, hitting that spot over and over again, gradually picking up the pace until he was fucking into you at a rough pace - the perfect pace.

Primo stood in front of you, watching your face as you took Secondo’s cock. Your hands unclasped from the table and moved to Primo’s clothed cock, standing to attention underneath his robes, and began to fumble with the fabric to free him. You wanted his cock in your mouth, just as much as you needed Secondo’s. You gave Primo’s cock two strokes at first, staving off the arousal just enough to get him into your mouth without him blowing too soon. Primo was always a delight to give head to - he was always so gentle, so appreciative, hands in your hair and sweet touches, never taking too much unless you were offering it and giving you kind praise as you worked hard to get him to cum.

Your first lick ran from base to tip, causing his toes to curl in his shoes at the pressure. But once you were at his head, you swirled your tongue around it, taking the whole tip in your mouth and sucking like you would taking cake mix off the spoon. You hollowed your cheeks to make a better suction for his head, and relished in the feeling of his hands in your hair, grunts of desperation slipping from his lips. You moved your hands to his hips and silently pulled them forward, sucking more of him into your mouth until that tip was right at the back of your throat, dipping down into your throat. All the while, you looked up at him through your lashes, big, doe eyes maintaining eye contact with him while your lips sinfully stretched around his cock.

“Oh my,” Primo commented, chest heaving from his lack of breath, “look at that. You look so pretty like this, fiorellina.”

He began to gently fuck your throat, pulling out completely to give you the opportunity to breathe, and bending down to kiss you ever now and then, before eventually feeding his cock back into your mouth, and repeating the process all over again.

In the meantime, behind you, Secondo was fixated on the way your cunt swallowed him whole, greedily pulling him back in and clenching down on his shaft as Primo sent those praises to you, and they shot straight down to your hole. You could hear Secondo’s own grunts and groans as he felt this, and just how feral he was becoming the longer he was inside of you. You were feeling so good, you were creaming on his cock, and Secondo couldn’t take his eyes off the juice that had gathered at the base, pulling and snapping with each time he pulled out then slammed back in.

He pushed his hand underneath your body and began to play with your clit again, stealing a moan from your mouth, muffled by Primo’s cock that was buried all the way to the hilt down your throat again. Secondo chuckled at your response, “You like that, amore?” He asked, his tone delightfully condescending, filled with a false sympathy that had goosebumps forming on your skin. “You like taking two cocks at the same time, hm? Like being used by four men in one day?”

“You should have seen the way her eyes lit up just now, fratellino.” Primo said, stroking your hair.

“Her cunt is clenching - I know how much she likes being a whore for us. Listen to her.” True enough, underneath your muffled whines and moans, everyone could hear the sound of Secondo fucking into you, how your wetness splashed around him and made it so, embarrassingly clear just how much you loved this. Secondo laughed again. “Look over at Terzo and the Cardinal, amore.”

You did as Secondo asked, pulling Primo out of your mouth to look at them over your shoulder. Terzo was, as expected, brazen with his thoughts, his cock completely out of his trousers again and his fist wrapped around it, darkened eyes trained on your body as you bounced off Secondo’s cock, and swallowed Primo’s with enthusiasm. Copia, on the other hand, clearly just as affected as Terzo, was still dressed from his earlier encounter with your mouth, but his hand rubbing over his cassock as discreetly as he could manage. You tightened again momentarily, relishing in the fact that you had four men rock hard and desperate to bury themselves in all of your holes.

“You should have seen the Cardinal earlier, tesoro.” Terzo teased. “How eager he was to fuck your throat.”

“Fuck.” You muttered, eyes watching your friend rut into his own hand. at the sight of you getting fucked relentlessly. There was something so incredible about being the centre of everyone’s attention, and the object of all their desires. How a man who you’d never even seen in a sexual light before, and you were sure hadn’t thought of you in one, was now trying to cum for a second time at the thought of you. “M-my hands are - fuck! Papa! - My hands a-are free.” You hinted, before taking Primo back into your mouth and curling your hands into loose fists, creating two new holes for Terzo and Copia to use at their pleasure. Of course, they leaped forward, and before you knew it both of their cocks had been spat on, then slid into your fists, and began fucking your hands as they would your cunt.

You were stuffed full, almost every hole imaginable filled with the cocks of the highest members of the clergy, at the mercy of the Emeritus brothers as they had their wicked ways with you. The rigorous snaps of Secondo’s hips had you bouncing along the table, meaning Primo could stand still and you’d take his cock completely hands free, with Secondo doing all the work.

From your peripherals, you watched as Copia used your hand, his own resting on the table as though he were too shy to touch you, despite wrapping his digits around your throat and making your airways tighter for him to fuck as he pleased. Terzo, however, a man used to being deep inside you and taking his pleasure from your body, had leaned over and landed a few, stinging slaps to your ass, watching as it jiggled with both the force of his hits and the backshots Secondo was giving you. That same hand he put in his mouth - his pinkie to be precise - salivated all over it, and then began to rub it over the rim of your ass, making you jump in surprise. And then, when you’d relaxed to his touch, he inserted the tip into your twitching hole, only down to the mid knuckle, but that combined with Secondo still playing with your clit had you tipping over into your third orgasm, body tensing and cunt fluttering around his cock.

Primo had pulled out, allowing you to breathe through it, crouching down and wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking himself furiously. “That’s it, fiorellina. Cum for us. You’re doing so well for us. Such a good girl. Ah! Sathanas! I’m close.”

When you came back to your senses, you fixated your eyes on Primo’s desperately moving hand, willing it back into your mouth, but Primo wasn’t having it.

His voice dropped to a whisper so only you could hear him. “Can I cum, fiorellina?”

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, and mere seconds later you heard Primo groan and then his cum landing on your flushed cheek, nose, and upper lip.

“Oh, fuck! Look at her now!” You heard Terzo say, in awe of your fucked out state, covered in cum. “Shit, me too!” He pulled out from your fist and stood where Primo once was, stroking himself until completion over your face, groaning as the first rope of cum shot out and landed on your forehead. It dripped down onto your cheek, joining the first load of cum, along with hitting your nose.

It didn’t take much longer for Secondo’s orgasm to hit him, his thrusts becoming sloppy and fast until he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, falling onto your plush body as rope after rope spilled in your tight, wet heat. His hands were gripping onto your flesh so hard, you were sure he was going to leave bruises, bruises you were excited to see for days after so you could remember what happened on your first game night with the boys.

Copia was the last one to cum, his own stamina keeping him going just as was promised by Primo earlier. But even still, a few more thrusts and he was done, his own cum joining Primo and Terzo’s on your face but this time it hit your mouth and chin, dripping onto the floor when the load was too big to stick to your skin.

You all sat there for a moment, catching your breaths from the intensity of the evening. Primo, as predicted, was exhausted and making a joke about how his old body couldn’t keep up to everyone. Terzo had picked up that same cloth that was on your eyes earlier and used it to wipe the copious amounts of cum that had painted your face; the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a look of disgust on his face as he finished cleaning you up as much as he could. “You did so well for us, tesoro.” He said, his voice low and warm. “I would kiss you but…”

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

“I still won, though.” You announced, smugly. You yelped when you felt Secondo spank your ass.

“Alright then, champion.” He said. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up.”

Secondo helped you get your habit back on once he had pulled out of you, and let you lean on him as you walked. Your legs were like jelly from both the position you were in and from the three orgasms the men had put you through. You bade each of them a good night before Secondo pulled you to his room, running you a bath upon arrival. As the water filled the tub, he stripped you naked again and had you sit on the edge, a damp, soapy cloth in his hands using it to properly wash your face, and clean you of any cum Terzo hadn’t managed to get. “You let us be too rough for you, amore.” He gently scolded you, watching as your face reddened beneath the warm water.

“It’s nothing I don’t enjoy, Papa.” You retorted, equally as soft. “I’d use my safeword if I didn’t. You know it makes me feel good when you use me. I feel better the more animalistic you get.”

“I don’t think we talked about the reason why before.”

“It’s the fact that you want me so much, you revert back to primal instincts and take me fiercely. Like you’re staking your claim.” Your thighs squirmed at the thought.

“You didn’t get enough just now, amore?” Secondo asked, clocking your body’s response. He knelt down and spread your legs, watching your labia part and wetness seep out again. He frowned. “Your poor pussy took such a beating - she’s so red.”

“She can take more, Papa.”

He looked up at you darkly. “You want your Papa to fuck you again? Fill you up with another load of cum, hm? You’re that desperate for cock you want your Papa to fill you again even though you’ve just taken four?”

“Please, Papa.” You whispered, feeling your nipples harden with arousal.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit and had you jumping. “In the tub then, puttana. Let me claim you properly.”

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

[snwpcktz]

A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART

PAIRING: jungwon x fem!reader

GENRE: high school au, classmates to lovers, acquaintances to lovers, fluff

SYNOPSIS: the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?

WARNINGS: mutual pining, little jealousy, swearing, reader is a little oblivious, reader uses she/her pronouns, mentions of other idols (sunoo, niki, wonyoung, minji, rei, intak, minjae)

WC: 5.3k

NOTE: hello everyone! here's my first fic, sorry that it took so long! i hope that the wait from the teaser wasn't bad! and ofc i'm open to any and all feedback :) pls enjoy the read!

"should i do it?"

wonyoung sighed for the nth time. "y/n, you ask me this every ten minutes and i give you the exact same answer. do it! there's nothing to lose since it's anonymous."

"yeah, but i want him to know it's from me," y/n mumbled, picking at the food on her lunch tray.

"then put your name on it."

"but what if he rejects me after that?"

"then don't put your name on it."

"but i need him to know that i like him!"

"goddamn it, y/n!" wonyoung groaned, massaging her head with her hands. "at this point just confess in person. you're really stressing me out here."

y/n rolled her eyes. "but i have like a 99.999999999% chance of rejection if i do that."

"and that's why we decided to do the confession board!" wonyoung retorted. "look, we're getting nowhere with this, so i suggest that you take my advice and- you're not even listening to me."

wonyoung was right--y/n was indeed not at all listening to her. not when the yang jungwon just entered the canteen in all his glory.

crisp uniform, broad shoulders, fluffy hair, and those gorgeous eyes. yang jungwon was just as attractive as he was yesterday. and the day before. and the day before that. scratch that, since freshman year.

the first time y/n met jungwon was in freshman biology, where they were partnered up to dissect a frog. it had been a few months since they had been in the same class, but y/n never interacted with him until they were paired together for the lab. in spite of her ridiculous comments and irritatingly loud reactions, jungwon has completed the lab calmly and with ease, even caring to explain everything she had missed while revolting at the sight of their frog.

once freshman jungwon handed in their neatly written lab report and shot a reassuring (and adorable) smile to his lab partner, y/n knew that the heat rising in her face and the rapid beating in her chest meant that she had taken a liking towards this boy.

and since then, y/n had reserved her heart for the one and only boy who managed to make her tummy flutter with giddiness.

of course, that was from way back in freshman year. has she made any progress since then? absolutely not.

even though the famous decelis academy confession board had been a temptation every single year, y/n simply could not bring herself to pin her feelings on it. but after reading hundreds of anonymous confessions, y/n had decided to finally get over her hopelessness and muster up the courage to post a note of her own. she had an intricate plan set in stone:

step one - purchase blue sticky notes (because blue is jungwon's favorite color) and dog stickers (because y/n found out that he has an adorable dog after stalking his instagram)

step two - write out a heartfelt confession that does not give away y/n's identity but still shows some hints to who she is (this would take several trials)

step three - arrive at school at exactly 8:25 AM on thursday, which is when everyone is trying to get to homeroom and will not be around the confession board located next to the art studio

step four - pin the note right in the middle of the heart from valentine's day so that it's extremely hard to miss

step five - pray that yang jungwon reads it and feels the same and asks y/n out and starts dating her and proposes to her and marries her and they live in a nice house with two kids and a dog until they grow old together

well, step five was pretty unreasonable but the rest of the plan would work! as long as y/n stopped staring at jungwon and actually started to listen to her friend, who was trying to get her to even begin step one.

"if you don't do this, some other girl might snatch him away," wonyoung commented, picking up her chopsticks and pointing them at y/n accusingly. "so you better get to work."

"okay okay, i'll do it!" y/n replied with a soft sigh following her words. "i just hope he reads it."

"he will. as long as you actually make the note," wonyoung added. "you do this every single wednesday. make this one the last time this happens."

"okay, jesus. i will. oh my fucking god."

wonyoung's lips curved into a smile. "good."

8:25 AM on a thursday. y/n was already at school, looking around the arts building for the confession board with her note in her hand. she had spent three hours crafting the perfect confession note for jungwon (the pile of crumpled sticky notes in her trashcan is enough proof of that), neatly writing out each word and carefully decorating it with little dog stickers.

she mentally crossed out step three of her plan as the wood border of the bulletin board came into her sight. it was perfect. an empty hallway with the lights dimmed down and no sounds of other students. this was her one chance to finally pin her confession to the board.

she smiled while looking at the board that was mere steps away. the spot smackdown in the middle of the large pink heart was empty, just as planned. the universe was most definitely on her side.

suddenly, y/n could hear footsteps coming from the opposite end of the hallway. panic rushed to her head as she quickly hid behind a wall near the board, stuffing the note in the pocket of her school blazer.

she peeked her head out to observe whoever was passing by. maybe it was just a teacher. or the janitor. or the theater director. either way, she needed the coast clear for her to pin her note.

the person turned around the corner, closing in on the confession board. y/n squinted her eyes, trying to catch any noticeable features. school uniform, broad shoulders, styled black hair- wait, was that yang jungwon?

y/n's eyes widened as she swallowed down the anxiety in her throat. why was yang jungwon at the confession board at (now) 8:26 AM on a thursday?

jungwon approached the confession board, his back facing y/n from her hiding spot. she could see him pull out something from his pocket and reach over to the container of thumbtack pins to the left of the board. was yang jungwon really posting a confession note?

y/n's suspicions were confirmed when he pushed a red pin through a pink sticky note, right in the empty space in the middle of the pink heart. she could feel her heart beating rapidly as she watched him walk away leisurely, fear creeping into her head once again.

she paused for a minute, unable to calm the pounding in her chest as she slumped against the cold wall. taking one last glance at the board, y/n pushed herself off of the wall and turned around, deciding to head to class.

a million questions were running through her head, but only one overshadowed any other thought she had: did yang jungwon just post a confession to another girl?

y/n felt her frown tugging even further down her face throughout the day. of course, the confession board was a hot topic every single day--especially when someone adds a new sticky note to the board. but y/n didn’t expect that the identity of the author who wrote the latest pink sticky note would be revealed so soon.

“jungwon apparently told a classmate that he wrote it, but he won’t say who it’s to,” a student said while passing y/n’s desk.

and there was that. the mystery recipient. the person who ruined all of y/n’s plans. all she wanted to do was finally confess her feelings with the hope that they could be returned. but what was the point of doing that now when her crush had already confirmed that he has feelings for another girl?

“i think it’s to minji, she’s been talking to jungwon a lot recently.”

y/n let out a frustrated huff after hearing that. she wasn’t in the mood to listen to people talk about possible candidates for jungwon’s mystery crush, especially when she barely had any chance of filling that spot.

wonyoung could only frown sympathetically, watching her friend's gloomy state. she knew how much this confession meant to y/n, but neither of them could have predicted that things would turn out this way.

“do you wanna get food, babe?” wonyoung asked, gently rubbing y/n’s head that was face-planted on her desk. “maybe a snack will help.”

“nothing can cure what i’m feeling right now,” y/n grumbled.

“you need to get up. you’ve been stuck at your desk for almost all of our break.”

“i don’t feel like getting up.”

wonyoung sighed before standing up and stretching her arms. “come on, let’s go get you something to eat. i’ll treat you.”

y/n groaned while sliding out of her seat. “i’m only doing this for free food,” she muttered as wonyoung linked arms with her.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

wonyoung practically dragged y/n by the arm to get to the snack shop, trying to avoid lingering in the hallway when everyone was talking about jungwon’s note.

"did you hear that jungwon confessed to someone? he confirmed it himself!"

"i think he likes rei, she's close with his friend niki."

"it has to be to minji, she's literally the only woman he'll look at."

y/n huffed at the comments flying around her with an uneasy feeling at the pit of her stomach. it upset her to imagine jungwon with another girl, staring into her eyes with love glassed across his own. she squeezed tighter onto wonyoung's arm as they swerved through the crowd, reaching their destination as quickly as possible.

unfortunately, luck was not on their side. the person y/n least wanted to see at the moment was standing at the drinks shelf, surrounded by some of his friends--and minji.

"yang jungwon!" y/n sharply hissed at wonyoung, pulling on the sleeve of the taller girl's blazer. "yang fucking jungwon is here! with minji!"

her friend turned to glance at the said boy and girl and rolled her eyes. "ignore him, let's go get our food."

y/n allowed wonyoung to drag her to the shelf stocked with savory snacks, shooting a small glare at minji before turning her head around.

what she didn't notice was that yang jungwon had recognized her presence the moment she turned around. he held the cold watermelon soda closer to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart.

"i don't know why people think it's me, i'm already in a relationship," minji sighed, fiddling with the strawberry milk in her hands.

"well, you do spend a lot of time with jungwon," niki reasoned, leaning against a nearby wall. "at least in terms of girl-space-friends. he doesn't have a lot of game."

"but some people think it's rei and she doesn't spend a lot of time with jungwon," minji countered. "actually, i don't think i've seen them interact since they've been introduced to each other."

"so if it's not minji or rei, who is it?" sunoo questioned.

all three students turned to look at jungwon, who slowly snapped out of his daze. "huh?"

"who'd you write the note to, won?" minji asked.

"i don't think i can answer that," jungwon mumbled, clenching the soda can tighter. "i'd prefer to keep that private."

"come on, we're your closest friends!" niki groaned, frowning at jungwon's response. "you can tell us--in exchange, we'll help you get the girl."

jungwon paused, pondering over niki's offer for a moment with his friend's eager stares fixated on him. he let out a brief sigh before answering, "fine. i'll give you a small hint."

his friends gasped, anticipation evident on their faces. jungwon took another quick glance at y/n, who was searching for seaweed-flavored chips, and felt the fluttering feeling in his stomach once again.

"she's in this room with us. right now."

his friends looked at each other with confused expressions. "it's just us four and the cashier...and intak..and minjae...and wonyoung...and y/n," sunoo listed, scanning the entire snack shop.

"the cashier? be so fucking for real right now bro," niki scoffed with a disgusted look on his face. "she's like, 70."

"no, what the fuck?" jungwon grimaced. "i mean someone our age. who do you take me for?"

"oh, i think i know who it is!" minji exclaimed with a smile. "it's y/n, isn't it?"

jungwon widened his eyes. he could feel a sharp rush of heat to his cheeks as he gulped at the mention of her name. minji let out a small chuckle at the boy's obvious reaction.

"really? you haven't talked to her since, like, freshman year," sunoo said, judging the reaction he just witnessed.

"yeah, but she's just so- ugh, you wouldn't understand. did you know that she braids her hair when she's stressed?"

"you're such a creep," niki sighed disappointedly. "no wonder you were always staring at her in class."

"look, she was doing it in first year history during our mock exam and i asked her about it," jungwon explained before glaring at niki. "i am not a creep."

"does she know your note's for her?" minji asked.

"no, i don't think so," jungwon replied with a small frown forming on his face. "i don't even think she likes me back. i mean, i don't really talk to her so i probably just seem weird."

"a creep," niki corrected, poking jungwon's shoulder harshly. "you seem like a creep."

"shut up."

"well, we can help you talk to her again so that you can show your interest," sunoo offered while tucking his phone into the back pocket of his uniform pants. "like right now."

the pink-haired boy whipped his head around to where y/n and wonyoung were standing, who had moved onto the bakery section.

"wonyoung! y/n!"

jungwon smacked sunoo immediately after the two girls' names left his mouth. "what the fuck are you doing," he muttered, trying to clench his lips together to seem like he wasn't talking.

"uh, helping you? duh," sunoo replied with a roll of his eyes.

meanwhile, the two girls stood across the snack shop, frozen with multiple bags of snacks in their arms.

"why did jungwon's friend say our name?" y/n questioned, also clenching her lips in fear that her crush would notice her talking about his friends. "and how does he know we exist?"

"the question is actually how does he know you exist," wonyoung responded before pulling y/n's arm. "come on, let's go see what he wants."

"no!" y/n whisper-yelled. "i can't...he's there...and minji's there..."

"you'll survive," wonyoung sighed. "we're going and that's final."

ignoring her friend's protests, wonyoung dragged y/n over to the group of four. "hi sunoo, what's up?"

"nothing, jungwon just wanted to tell y/n something," sunoo replied with a grin, causing jungwon's eyes to widen in concern.

"he did?" y/n mumbled.

"i did?" jungwon whispered, shooting a glare at sunoo's smiling face.

jungwon glanced at y/n but quickly looked away, swallowing down the nervous bundle in his throat. he didn't know if he could contain himself if he looked one second longer into her curious eyes.

he cleared his throat for an unnaturally long time, causing his friends to send questioning looks towards him. "um, yeah, uh...i, well, i was wondering..."

y/n found herself slightly leaning towards the anxious boy, which only caused jungwon's heart to beat faster.

"uh...do...do you have history next?"

niki rolled his eyes while minji felt the need to facepalm herself.

y/n shot a glance at wonyoung before responding, "um, yeah. why?"

"well, uh..." jungwon felt himself breaking out in a sweat, panicking to make up an excuse. "i was...uh-"

"he wanted to offer his notes to you since he just had history," sunoo quickly covered. jungwon blinked before nodding, swallowing down his anxiety once again.

y/n's eyes widened. it was common for jungwon, an intelligent and diligent student, to offer help to people in academics. but what shocked her was the fact that he offered her his history notes--as if he knew that it was her weakest subject.

she didn't hesitate to accept the offer, sending a wave of relief over jungwon. "uh, i'll drop them off once i get back to my classroom."

"yeah, no problem. thanks for the notes!" y/n replied, shooting a small smile at the boy before allowing wonyoung to drag her to the register.

once the duo was far enough, jungwon turned around to face his friends with an excited smile curled on his face. "did you see that? she smiled at me!"

"yeah, no thanks to yourself," sunoo grumbled. "i did all the work. for free!"

"you're too awkward, jungwon," minji sighed, a pained expression on her face.

"i think you should stick to being a nerd," niki commented. "it...suits you better."

niki spent the rest of the break running away from said nerd.

y/n slumped in her seat, resting her cheek in her left hand and tapping her foot on the ground. she checked the clock above the blackboard. 10:27 AM. three minutes left for jungwon to fulfill his promise.

she let out another sigh. she didn't expect herself to anticipate much from the exchange--after all, he was just offering her his history notes. but she found herself rushing back to her classroom, waiting (and struggling to wait) for his presence at the doorframe while each minute dragged on.

10:28. a frown etched onto y/n's face. the day seemed to just get worse and worse. first, her confession was ruined by her crush himself. next, her crush proceeded to post a confession to another girl. now, her crush failed to complete a promise two minutes before her least favorite class.

another moody sigh. y/n lazily reached into her bag, pulling out her history textbook and her pencil case. she should've known to never trust men, like her mother said. all men are liars.

she slowly flipped through her textbook, feeling her frown drag down even further. the classroom was bustling with chatter, savoring the last couple of minutes before another hour long class. but here she was, slouching in her seat with a gray thundercloud above her head. she could practically visualize wonyoung looking at her pathetically from across the room.

the room came to a sudden silence. y/n sluggishly raised her head. was their history teacher here early?

there he was. yang jungwon, frozen at her classroom's doorframe with a notebook in his hand. his cheeks were flushed with a light pink as he weaved through the students, approaching y/n's desk.

y/n felt herself stop breathing. he did come to fulfill his promise, after all. huh. maybe not all men are liars.

jungwon bashfully smiled at her, gently placing his notebook on her desk. he wasn't hard of hearing, he could tell that everyone was whispering about him--more specifically, about his confession note. all he could hope for was that his crush wasn't super obvious, but he was sure that what he was doing at the moment actually made it 10x more obvious.

"um, here's my notes," jungwon said in a hushed voice, conscious of the sudden volume change. "hopefully they're useful."

"thanks..." y/n mumbled, making eye contact with the boy for a mere second before glancing away. it was too hard for her to contain the pounding feelings in her heart, especially when the yang jungwon had his eyes on her (and only her).

she could only imagine a world where he would stare at her, eyes filled with love and adoration.

"no problem," jungwon replied, noting to himself about how cute she looked today. if only he could sit next to her, one arm around her shoulder and another guiding her through the history material. he would never forgive the administrator who put them in separate classes.

"um, aren't you going to be late?"

y/n's comment snapped him out of his trance, suddenly realizing that he was still standing in front of her desk with students around him still whispering about his confession note. awkward.

jungwon shut his eyes close for a second. she probably thinks i'm a creep. niki, i guess you're right.

"uh, yeah. i'll just...i'll go now."

he mustered up a little courage to send a small wave before rushing out of the room, eyes glued to the floor in front of him.

y/n let out a quiet snicker, finding the boy's awkwardness humorous (and extremely cute). unfortunately, she realized too late that everyone's eyes were still on her and coughed unnaturally loud to cover up her previous reaction.

the sound of heels clicking caused all the students' eyes to rip away from her and immediately slide into their seats. their history teacher was finally here, ready to lead another sleep-inducing lecture.

"good morning class," the history teacher, ms. choi, announced. "please turn to page 127 of your textbooks. we're picking up where we left off from last class with the silla dynasty."

y/n reached for jungwon's notebook as the students around her searched for the page in their textbooks. she easily found the respective page of notes due to the sticky note jungwon had marked the page with.

such a cute pink, y/n thought, brushing her thumb over the familiar-colored sticky note. too bad he used it for a different girl.

it was twenty minutes into the class and y/n found herself extremely bored. although jungwon's notes were perfectly organized and super helpful, y/n couldn't help but feel her attention span slowly decreasing. the textbook was boring, the content was boring, and ms. choi's voice was boring.

she decided to flip through jungwon's notebook. as expected, all of his notes were neatly written with key ideas highlighted and citations to textbook pages. what else could she expect from him?

y/n closed the notebook, running her thumb along the edge of the pages like a flipbook. the glimpses of blue highlighter partially satisfied her boredom, along with the flash of pink at the very end of the notebook. wait, pink?

y/n's curiosity got the best of her as she turned to the end of the notebook, revealing multiple pink sticky notes with lengthy paragraphs and words scratched out in black ink. being the nosy person she is, she decided to read the notes, tuning out ms. choi's monotonous voice.

i've liked you for a long time, but i haven't had the courage to confess.

oh. they were drafts of his confession note.

y/n pursed her lips, taking in a sharp breath. she swallowed down the discomfort she felt and continued to read the notes.

ever since freshman year, i've been attracted to you in so many more ways than i can describe. that sweet smile you show off to your friends. the laugh you let out at small jokes. the tenderness in your eyes as you talk with the cashier in the snack shop. i see why she said that you remind her of her granddaughter.

y/n bitterly smiled. he really likes her, huh?

i like am in love am pathetically in love with you. i feel like a lost puppy, hoping for the smallest interaction with you every single day. i wonder if you can feel my stares from across the lunch room, desperately hoping that you would happen to notice me and look back. i know we haven't talked much since freshman year, but i can't help but imagine us together.

y/n quickly diverted her eyes to a different sticky note, chewing on her lip harshly. she didn't know why, but she couldn't stop reading them, even if his words only caused her more pain.

i hope you can accept this confession, but if you don't like me back i hope we can become friends again. from, your freshman bio partner (p.s. i'm glad that we were paired up for that frog lab)

wait, frog lab? y/n's eyebrows furrowed. the only partner jungwon had for the frog dissection lab in freshman biology was...her.

y/n's heart pounded against her chest. she needed to read whatever note jungwon posted on the confession board, right fucking now.

the moment the bell rang, y/n shoved all of her history materials in her bag. she didn't want to spare a minute from reaching that damned confession board that she had been avoiding since morning.

grabbing jungwon's notebook, y/n joined the crowd of students rushing towards the canteen, forgetting about wonyoung who appeared behind her.

"let's eat with rei today, hm?" wonyoung suggested.

"can't talk right now, won. i need to be somewhere," y/n responded before pushing her way through the crowd.

"y/n, wait!"

y/n ignored her friend's concerned voice, mentally making a note to apologize to her later. she ran through the halls, opposite of all the students heading towards the canteen. hugging the notebook close to her chest, she made a beeline towards the arts building, feeling the beating in her chest increase every single second.

once she arrived, she slowed down her pace, allowing herself to catch her breath and wipe off the light sweat on her forehead. there she stood in the same position she was in at 8:25 AM, right in front of the confession board littered with colorful sticky notes.

a couple of students lingered around the board, checking for any new confessions before heading to lunch. as y/n's breathing slowed down, she approached the center of the board, eyes locked on the pink sticky note posted mere hours ago.

she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to read the note she had been avoiding all day.

to my freshman year crush, i've liked you for a long time, but i haven't had the courage to confess. that is, until now. ever since freshman year, i've been attracted to you. your smile, your laugh, your kind personality. it's no wonder the cashier at the snack shop says that you remind her of her granddaughter. grandparents only say that to people they know have the purest, sweetest souls on earth, and you are one of them. i am utterly, pathetically, and desperately in love with you. i feel like a lost puppy, hoping for the smallest interaction with you every single day. i wonder if you can feel my longing stares from across the lunch room, hoping that you would happen to notice me and meet my eyes. i know we haven't talked much since freshman year, but i can't help but imagine us together. i wish that i had the courage to confess in person, but i'm afraid of rejection. i hope that this confession comes off well to you, and i 100% understand if you don't like me back. i just hope that we can be friends again, at the very least. from, your freshman bio partner (p.s. i'm glad we were paired up for the frog lab. as taylor swift said, i guess i was enchanted to meet you)

y/n felt her breathing stop as she finished reading the note. it was too good to be true. she needed to talk to him, to confirm with him, and to confess to him.

she wasted no time running to the canteen, earning questioning stares from the students she passed by. the canteen was busy per usual, bustling with student chatter and silverware sounds. y/n skimmed the room, eyes landing on the one person she wanted to talk to.

she rushed towards his table, avoiding the mass of lunch trays around her. "jungwon!" she called.

the said boy looked up from his table, curious round eyes meeting hers. "could i talk to you for a minute?"

jungwon nodded, standing up to follow y/n. what she didn't notice was sunoo winking at jungwon, niki mouthing a "go get her, tiger!", and minji softly smiling with pride.

jungwon followed y/n to the hallway outside of the canteen, trickling with the last students getting their lunches. y/n faced jungwon, feeling her cheeks heat up at the sight of his curious gaze.

"um, i wanted to return this to you," y/n began, handing over his notebook.

"oh, thanks," jungwon replied, taking it into his hands. he felt himself grow a little disappointed--was that all she wanted to tell me?

y/n softly cleared her throat before deciding to continue. "so, uh, this might be in invasion of privacy but i got really bored in history and looked through your notebook and i might have found your sticky notes and i might have read them...without your permission?"

"notes? what notes?" jungwon mumbled, flipping through his notebook. it only took a second of him skimming the sticky notes in the back for him to shut the notebook closed, a furious blush spreading across his face.

"and, uh, i read one that ended with 'from your freshman bio partner' or something like that and it mentioned the frog lab. and then i remembered that i was your partner during that lab but i wasn't sure if you wrote that for sure so i went to check the confession board and it said the same thing so...yeah."

jungwon was frozen, cheeks bright red with panic-stricken eyes. "so...uh, i just wanted to confirm if-"

"yes," jungwon whispered, not daring to meet her eyes. "it- it is about you..."

he squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of silence, preparing himself for rejection. he could already feel the weight in his heart getting heavier, thumping against his chest.

"i, uh, i- i like you too, jungwon."

the boy opened his eyes, shock evident on his face. he whipped his head up, now seeing a y/n with an equally flushed face not meeting his eyes.

"y- you do?"

"yeah," y/n mumbled, a shy smile spreading on her face. "i really, really like you."

jungwon couldn't help but smile back, trying his best to contain the butterflies practically swarming in his stomach.

"so, um, i was actually planning to confess to you today," y/n admitted, earning a surprised reaction from jungwon. "but i saw you post your note on the confession board first and i got scared because...well, i thought that you confessed to someone else."

y/n reached into her blazer's pocket, pulling out the crumpled blue sticky note that she had been hiding the whole day. "i guess i'll just give it to you now since...well, yeah..."

she quickly flattened out the sticky note before handing it to jungwon, who gently took it with a small smile.

to jungwon, i've liked you for so long but i've finally decided to confess. since freshman year, you've been nothing but kind to me. i felt myself melt into a puddle every single time you shot a smile at me or offered your help with something. i can’t help but admire your charming appearance, your charismatic leadership qualities, and the smile that you give to every person alike. you’re loved by so many people and i happened to fall into that same crowd. i know you most likely do not feel the same but i hope that we can talk more, the way we did back in freshman year. from, anonymous

jungwon couldn't help the shy grin growing on his face. every word written completely erased all the anxious emotions he had in his head. this is what it feels like, he thought. this is what it feels like to be loved back.

jungwon didn't need to say anything. he simply took y/n's clammy hand into his, intertwining their shaking fingers together. no words were needed after they had spent hours of their lives writing out their feelings for each other. they shared a smile, feeling secure together and lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes.

for the first time for the day, y/n was glad that jungwon had interrupted her confession, pining his heart on the board so that she could give him hers.

© snwpcktz

taglist: @jngwnlvs

[mellosdrawings]

Wings Series Masterpost

Tags: Wings!AU, Jamil/Kalim, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, a lot of content warnings so view to your own discretion

1. "It is what it is" (cw: blood, self harm, gore)

2. A habit inherited from parents (cw: blood, gore, knife wounds)

3. "If you don't let me keep my wings, I'm gonna make my own" (cw: blood)

4. Like a butterfly (cw: needles/pins)

5. Heartfelt gift (cw: blood, stitches, botched surgery)

6. Bittersweet memory (no content warning)

7. The scorpion and the frog (no content warning)

8. "Sometimes my wings feel too heavy" (cw: blood, hanging)

9. "You'll protect her, won't you?" (cw: implied harm)

10. A breakdown (cw: blood, gore, violence)

11. "Lend me your wings so I can feel the sun on my skin" (no content warning)

12. "I would've given them to you if I only knew" (cw: blood)

13. "Please show me the consequences of my own (in)actions" (cw: scars)

14. "Let me be the one to protect you" (no content warning)

15. "They'll grow back" (no content warning)

16. Flight in tandem (no content warning)

17. "We were always together" (no content warning)

Others:

Related Asks

Poll (closed)

Wings!AU tag

Fanarts/Inspired

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: double chapters when I know I shouldn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“We got a suite available, Amalia?” The man, the owner of this casino, Bucky, asks as he approaches the glass counter of the hotel lobby. You barely keep up as your surroundings smear and your head spins. Everything’s happening so fast. 

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman on the other side greets as she nears the slim monitor, “I think we should.” She glances at him, then your sister as she blathers drunkenly in his arms, “having a good night?” 

“Oh, just some friends in the city for a night,” he lies easily, “she got a bit carried away so we’ll let her sleep it off.” 

You chew your lip as you stand just behind him. Your stomach lurches as your eyes wander around the fine decor. It’s all out of your price range. Again, your brain is a beat behind.  

“Doll, would you get that?” He asks as the desk agent holds out a small folder. 

“Oh, yeah, er,” you rush up to take the room keys, “sorry.” 

“No problem, just got my hands full,” he scoffs, “Amalia, have a good night. Hopefully you don’t get anyone too rowdy.” 

“Thank you, sir, you too,” she preens after him as he heads off across the lobby. 

Once more you’re on his heels as he struts toward the elevators. You catch up to him and force the frog from your throat, “uh, sir, Bucky?” You stammer, “I don’t think... I can afford--” 

“Doll, don’t worry about all that. It's on the house,” he stops before the elevator and stares at the golden doors, “I’m not some sort of grifter. I offered, I’m not gonna squeeze ya. What’s the room number?” 

“Er, oh,” you open the little folder, “720.” 

“Right, hit the button,” he nods before him. 

“Sorry,” you cringe again. You’re so behind. It must be so obvious to him how lost you are. Maybe that’s why he noticed you. He feels bad that someone so pathetic could exist. 

You press the up button and the doors open. He nods you ahead of him and you step into the box. The walls are transparent and you can see outside along the river. He gets in and comes to stand parallel with you as you avoid looking through the glass. 

“Seven,” he says. 

You make another mousy noise and tap the button. You recoil, clutching your hands over your chest, and stare at the doors. As the elevator rises, you feel a wave of head rush, and you sway just a little. You gulp and widen your eyes. 

“Not a fan of heights?” He asks as the box stops sharply and the doors ding and open. 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

He waits for you to exit first and you eagerly do. He follows as you look back and forth between the doors, searching out the number to match the folder. 720, right at the end. You fumble and it takes three tries to swipe the card correctly.  

Finally, the door opens and you push it inward, holding it as you flatten yourself to the wall to let him through. He enters without hesitation. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to be so sure and so comfortable in a place like this. To have this be your normal.

You let go of the door and trail him further inside. The room is huge. Not just one room, but two. The front room is closed off by a pair of doors, painted white with fine spirals etched into the wood. You flit ahead of Bucky to slide them open and reveal the bedroom. He takes your sister to the bed and lays her down as she lets out a bubbly belch. 

“Sorry,” you apologise on her behalf as you hover in the door. 

“She’s her own person,” he stands back, “you need anything, call down to the desk. They’ll be happy to get you whatever. Oh, and, should probably have some water ready for the morning. She’s gonna be feeling this.” 

“Right,” you push your lip out then quickly fix your face, “thank you. I...” 

“Checkouts at eleven but I’ll tell Amalia to mark you down for a late departure,” he comes towards you slowly. 

“Oh, we won’t stay that long,” you assure him and scrape your palms together. 

“Ah, you got somewhere to be? Work? Gonna be a long day after tonight.” 

“No, I... I don’t...” your eyes drift to the wall. Again, you can’t help but admire the ivory paint and the crystal lamp and tall posts of the bed. “I don’t... have a job.” 

“Mm, tough out there,” he says, “just gotta find the right thing, huh?” 

You want to fold into nothing. This man, a millionaire at least, who owns this whole place, is telling you you’ll find something one day. Just like your mom does when you melt down over another rejection. Ugh. 

“Thanks, yeah,” you take a heavy breath. 

“You’re tired,” he surprises you as he caresses your sleeve, “I’m not gonna keep you up. You get some sleep, alright?” 

You nod and reach to scratch your neck, shifting away from his reach. He’s so much bigger than you that for a moment your stomach is crawling, as the thought occurs of how much control he really has. Not just because of who he is. 

“Good night, doll,” he purrs and brushes by you. 

You stay as you are, staring at your sister, muttering to herself. Why does she have to do this? You could be sleeping in your own bed but instead you’re here, burning in shame and pity. You turn as you hear him near the door. 

“Night,” you offer up. 

He stops and turns back, sending you a wink, “there’s a hot tub in here so... might enjoy the room at least.” 

You force a smile though your stress likely makes it more a grimace. He spins and leaves you, the door shutting with a click and releasing you to your self-reproach. You drop your head in your hands and huff. You are leaving the minute your sister wakes up. You never want to see that man again. You just pray he forgets you just as quickly as you want to forget this whole night. 

🃏

You hardly sleep. Your sister’s drunken snoring keeps you from relaxing for more than twenty minutes at a time, not to mention how unsettled you are. You hate sleeping in new places but moreso you hate that even on a night out, after all the assurance that you could just enjoy yourself, that you are once more a burden for someone else. 

You get up just after six. You rub your forehead as you go out into the front room and look over the amenities. There’s a fancy coffee maker with pods and a mini fridge with a glass door. You take out a bottle of water to leave by the bed for Roxie then return to figure out the coffee. You don’t often have any but your head is pounding. 

You sit down and sneer at the bitterness. Did you make it right? You never liked the taste so you can’t tell. You finish the cup if only for the soothing warmth. 

At seven, you get up to check on Roxie again. She’s still out like a light. Come on! You want to go. 

You rinse the mug in the sink as best you can and return it to the shelf. There’s a knock on the door. You flinch and reluctantly tread down to the hall. You peep through the hole as you fix your clothing. You push down the handle slowly to greet the woman with the cart. 

The golden embroidery on her white blouse marks her as an employee and she beams a smile in your direction. It’s too early for that amount of cheer. She has her hands on the cart, angling it towards the door. 

“Morning, miss, breakfast, complements of Mr. Barnes,” she declares, “where can I put it?” 

“Um,” you back up slowly, “inside... uh, by the table, I guess.” 

She rolls the cart in and asks if you need anything else before she leaves. You shake your head. There’s more than enough there for you and Roxie. If she can even stomach any of it. You’ve seen the way she is after her nights out. 

You sit and stare at the buffet of food before you. Fresh fruit, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs... everything and more. Just another favour to feel bad for. 

As you look over it all, you notice a note, nestled between the glasses beside the pitcher of orange juice. You take it. That must be the bill. You unfold it and read the slanted capitals hand-written across the casino-branded page. 

‘Good Morning, Doll,  

Enjoy breakfast on me. 

B. Barnes’ 

Under his name, is a sharp zigzag of the same black ink, a post script below. 

‘PS. If you’re still looking for a job, call me.’ 

You nearly drop the paper. What? You stare at the digits of his phone number and slowly lower your hand to your lap. This can’t be real. Could you really work at a casino? Would you be a dealer? Or maybe you’d be more suited to a cleaner, somewhere you can be out of the way. 

A long groan interrupts your inner turmoil. You fold the paper and tuck it away. It’s something. You’ll have to just figure out later what. 

“Coffee,” Roxie grumbles as she appears in the doorframe, gripping her skull. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you get up and go to the machine. You grab a random pod and shove it into the top. 

“Where... how’d we get here?” She sits heavily and reaches for a piece of bacon. 

“Um, you... you were really drunk so...” 

“How the hell did you get us a room? Wait. Did we win? Blackjack?” She bites into the greasy strip and moans. “Or... I didn’t sleep with that guy, did I?” 

“Erm,” you frown, thinking for a moment before you realise she must mean that Sam guy. “No...” 

You don’t explain. You don’t know how. Oh yeah, you were such a disaster that the owner noticed and didn’t kick us out. Actually, he let us stay in an overpriced suite because... you don’t know. 

“He must be loaded if he’s handing out hotel rooms,” she scoffs as she continues on in her assumption. You don’t correct her. It doesn’t matter. “Coffee,” she snaps her fingers as the grind quiets. 

You bring her the mug and she adds too many packets of sugar before she tastes it. You hide the paper in your cardigan pocket and search for your purse. You fish your watch out of it and put it around your wrist checking the time. 

“We should head out before nine,” you say. 

“Why?” She scoffs. “Ugh, what’s the bath like in this place? I could use a soak.” 

“Mom’s going to be worried.” 

“Nah, she knows I’ll get you back,” she waves you off and stands.  

She walks slowly, rubbing her temples as she sips from the cup, and examines the hotel room. She dips into the bathroom and the light flicks on. You hear her turning the faucet and shifting things around.  

You play with the zipper of your purse. You reach inside and pull out your phone. You get up to grab the key folder and enter the wifi code into your outdated model. It takes far too long to connect. You type into the search of your browser, ‘Bucky Barnes’. 

Almost at once, an image of the very man who carried Roxie into this room appears. It’s familiar. You tap it and it opens up a local news story. That makes sense. He’s younger, his hair is shorter. You remember when the casino changed hands and was renovated all those years ago. It was big news. 

Hm. Not just rich, famous, at least to a degree. It means he has a lot more going on than two disorderly girls at his casino. He’ll forget. You just hope you can too. 

Roxie comes back in a robe and put her mug on the table, “make me another. I’m gonna try those jets.” 

She spins away and you stare at her empty cup. How can she not care about anything? Does she not realise that she ruined the night? That she made a fool of both of you? No, she just sees shiny things and forgets all about her own behaviour. 

Well, you’re not like her. You don’t like being a burden or asking for things or living on someone else’s affection. You look down and feel along your pocket, the slip of paper firm through the fabric. You could clean a few hotel toilets for a buck. It’s not like you have much else going on. 

[markscherz]

FAQ

I get a lot of asks on tumblr, and I of course cannot expect you to scroll through my erratic post history on tumblr before you ask anything (though you can browse my tag #Answers by Mark, if you want). So instead, I have pinned this post that has an FAQ, which you can refer to before submitting a question, to check if it has been asked before.

Personal Questions:

What is your favourite frog/lizard/…?

How old are you? Where do you live? Where are you from? What languages do you speak?

What do/did you study?

Are you going to [insert meeting here] conference?

How did you get into Malagasy herpetology?

What is your relationship status?

How did you get where you are today?

That bread you make looks really fucking incredible, where do I get a recipe so I can get it in my FACE?

Science-related Questions:

How do I become a herpetologist/any advice for someone interested in a career in herpetology?

What is it like being a taxonomist?

How do I learn about the taxonomy of reptiles or amphibians?

I’m travelling to Madagascar; can you give me some advice?

How can I get into field research in Madagascar?

What is the best part about field work?

What is Zoology like as a career path?

Should I be a zoologist if I’m not good at school/not passionate about it?

How much money will I earn as a zoologist?

Will I struggle in herpetology/zoology as a female?

Can you recommend American colleges to me to study Zoology?

Can you identify this herp for me?

Can snakes hear?

I want to be a vet, can you give me some advice?

Is the distinction between poisonous and venomous really that important?

Are you a lumper or a splitter?

Can you help with my homework?

[on-a-lucky-tide]

absolutely feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel like babying me through it lmaoo but i’m trying to get back into my physical therapy and picked up my dad’s old hand weights. i’ve never lifted a thing in my life and i’m severely chronically ill and deconditioned (hence the pt lmao) and i was just wondering if you had any tips for absolute beginners or things i should really avoid bc i have no idea what i’m doing and have no one to ask 😭😭

Yo, T, this is great news.

If by "hand weights", you mean those like... baby dumbbell thingies? Then absolutely I can help.

Top tips:

Form is more important than weight. You need to get the movement right to build strength without injury. So, don't be ashamed to start as light as you can at first. Ensure you get full range of motion (e.g., if you're gonna do a bicep curl, then all the way down, all the way up; slow, controlled).

You'll need to warm up first. You can do this by lifting lighter weights before moving to heavier in exactly the same movement you intend to do (e.g., I'll always lift an almost naked barbell for my first set, or with very few weights, just so my joints can uh... crunch their way into motion). Some people do some band work.

Don't be me; listen to your body. If things start to bubble, pop, grind, crunch or, my personal favourite, stab you in the nerve endings, stop. Pushing through leads to injury. If you are consistent and patient, you will get better.

I recommend downloading the free app 'FitBod'. It has .gifs and videos showing you how to do hundreds of exercises. The free version won't let you 'log workouts', but you just need a pen and paper for that tbh.

I'd suggest starting seated in a dining room chair. This will stabilise you. Once you get confident, you can begin to do standing exercises.

Supplement the hand weights with body weight movements, such as shallow squats, crunches, push ups on knees (or, push ups against the wall, against the edge of the sofa).

Do mobility work. A good app for this is Pliability. Although I do shit like the Weatherman push up challenge 'cause my brain is spicy and gets bored with shit like the frog pose.

There's a link in my pinned for a workout split if you want it. Good luck, stay safe! 💪

[christinarowie332]

goofy ass smile

chris sturniolo x reader

no warnings really : swearing , mentions of drugs and nicotine , not proof read , i literally just wrote this in like 20 mins

love ya !!!

___________________________

“chris bro get off me!” i struggle out as my boyfriend decides to sit on my lap and sprawl his body over me on the couch .

“huh ? sorry can’t hear you ?” he turns his head smirking at me before fully lying his back on my face smothering me .

my muffled giggles are the only thing i could hear before i decide to dig my fingers in chris’s side , resulting in a yelp and him dramatically throwing himself of the floor rolling around and heaving up winded moans.

“bro your fucking finger went into my ribs-AUGH” chris’s complains were cut off as i frog jumped onto him , pushing his shoulders down so he is pinned to the floor .

straddling his lap , with my hands on his chest . i look him in the eyes in full seriousness, holding eye contact before both of us erupting into laughter .

“bro my legs are numb right now, u literally have taken away my fucking legs” i said through giggles as chris sits up , holding his body up by his hands on the floor leaning back . his fingers stretched out , being engulfed by the cream carpet underneath us .

“wouldn’t be the first time , hmm?” chris says trying to be serious but laughs at his own joke through a teeth smile . he squints his eyes and laughs harder looking at my shocked wide eyed expression, mouth agape and laughing as i lift myself to sit between his legs.

i place both my thighs over his and he places a hand on one of them . stroking it slightly with his thumb as our laughter dies down .

i exhale deeply and smile at him .

“whats that goofy ass smile on your face for” chris says matching my smile and tilting his head slightly.

“oh i’m so sorry at i not allowed to smile at my boyfriend ?? that’s crazy” i reply back before rolling my eyes and beginning to get up from my place between his legs .

chris notices this and grabs my hips slightly to push me down. my body flushes at his touch and my eyes follow his touch on me . i look back up at him and smile while shaking my head slightly

“whatever dude, OH!!, guess what matt picked me up this morning” he says excitedly wiggling his eye brows slightly and reaching over to the couch grabbing his hoodie and sitting back as he was

“hopefully some deodorant bro cuz u stink .bad”

chris turns his head slowly in fake offense at my words before lurching forward and pushing me to the ground by my shoulders.

“AUGH, CHRIS BRO U FUCKING WINDED ME !?” i shout through coughs and giggles

“I STINK ?? YOU ARE IN THE SAME CLOTHES FROM LAST NIGHT BRO , YOU REEK OF WEED !!” he shouts in disbelief, on all fours above me .

i look down at the clothes i am wearing . it’s chris green and white star’d sweatshirt , i smile at it before looking back up at him with a tight lipped smile .

“what did matt get you?” i suddenly remember the origional topic of the conversation, furrowing my eyebrows and lifting my chin up in anticipation.

chris matches my confusion. furrowing his own eyebrows and looking around in thought .

“OH SHIT YEAH !!” he gets up again and grabs his hoodie as i push myself off the floor and crossing my legs .

“i asked him to get you um … i think it was pink grapefruit u mentioned u liked that flavour last week so he grabbed you three babe, i will be stealing one tho” he says with a teasing tight lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes . holding out two lost mary vapes and throwing them in my lap . sitting opposite on me on the floor crossing his legs matching me .

“ugh this is why i love you christopher” i say leaning forward and grabbing his face for a fast peck on his lips . before grabbing the vape box from my lap and opening it .

as i focus on opening the box in my lap , chris just stares at me smiling . i don’t see him but i feel his gaze . ignoring him but smiling at the thought of him .

“love u too i guess” he says rolling his eyes before getting an empty box thrown at his face .

“bro”

i chuckle to myself .

—————————

bosh

two posts in a day i’m on a roll rn

@urmyslxt @mangosrar @sturnphilia @jcwrites-blog @sssturniolofart @lividnity @biimpanicking @bluesturniolo333

(also thank you sm for the support on everything , i have literally been on this app for a week and y’all are the sweetest most realest people ever)

-love milkie

🤍🤍🤍

[gulliblelemon]

gulliblelemon's fics

I thought I should probably have a place where I put all of my fics together and update as I go. I don't want to put this as my pinned post - I like having my fic recs there! But I'll link to this so hopefully it's not too hard to find. I've tried to be accurate with my genre tags, but it's well-known that my angst barometer is broken. If you think I've got any wrong, let me know!

If you're after a particular vibe I've also done separate posts for genre here: angsty, hurt/comfort, fluffy, pining, long fics, short fics

Under the cut ⬇️

Please Try Again Later (canon-div, T, 32k) - angst, hurt/comfort What would have happened if Simon was around when Wille got the call about Erik.

Happy 18th, Crown Prince Wilhelm (post-canon-div, G, 4.3k) - fluff Canon divergence from end of s2. Outsider's POV of Wille's 18th birthday celebrations if he hadn't stepped down.

What Would I Do Without You? (AU series, T, 37k) - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort How things might have gone differently if Wille and Felice were already best friends before Hillerska. Starts with some (very) fluffy one shots, gets angstier.

i want it to be easier (canon, T, 1.4k) - pining Missing moment with Simon, Rosh and Ayub from s2e5 after "Did he just say he'd give up the crown for you?"

See You (Soon) (AU, T, 18k) - fluff, pining Wille didn't go to Hillerska but sees Simon at the jubilee. And does everything in his power to see him again. And again.

The Umbrella (AU, T, 35k) - pining A University AU in which Simon and Wilhelm meet by accident. They continue to bump into each other until they start to form a tentative friendship.

Making Music (AU, M, 15k) - fluff, pining A non-royal AU where both Simon and Wilhelm are on a three week intensive music course in the old Hillerska building.

Where We Left Off (AU, T, 84k) - angst, pining, hurt/comfort Simon meets Wilhelm by accident in the wake of Erik's sudden death. This story follows their lives through the years, and through more of their accidental and on-purpose meetings.

The Last Slice (post-canon, T, 2.9k) - fluff(?) Wille is invited to play video games with The Gang. He has a few things he needs to say.

Unconventional (canon-div, T, 1.8k) - fluff Canon divergence where Wille doesn't step down, a moment where he makes a decision about his future with Simon.

Controversial Clothing Opinions (post-canon, T, 1.3k) - fluff What does Wille think of the infamous plaid pants?

It's Just Us Now (canon, T, 1.8k) - fluff, light angst Wille's internal monologue during movie night s1e2.

Thirteen (AU, T, 4.1k) - fluff Wilhelm is not enjoying his thirteenth birthday. That is until a beautiful boy stumbles across him and invites him to join him and his friends having fun in the palace grounds.

Paper Frogs and Fairy Tales (AU, T, 21k) - fluff, pining Simon works in a bookshop. Wilhelm shows up for a royal book event. Neither of them are particularly pleased with this set up... at first.

Why'd You Invite Me In The Middle Of The Night? (AU, T, 11k) - angst, pining Wilhelm and Simon were best friends at school, until Wilhelm pushed Simon away and stopped speaking to him. Years later, Simon receives a text from Wille inviting him to his wedding.

I'll Wash, You Dry (post-canon, T, 1.1k) - hurt/comfort Simon and Sara have a moment to talk about forgiveness and the future.

Purple (post-canon, G, 1k) - fluff Simon asks why Wille chose purple for his nails. A small post canon conversation, and then a peek into the future.

In The Crowd (AU, T, 7.6k) - fluff Ex-Crown Prince Wilhelm enjoys open mic nights at small, unassuming bars. Simon is an aspiring musician trying his hand at performing.

Intoxicating (post-canon, G, 300) - fluff Simon likes how Wille smells

Dear Diary (canon, T, 2.1k) - fluff Three entries from Simon's diary, one during s1e5, two post canon.

Multicoloured Snapshots (AU, T, 6k) - fluff, pining Linda is getting remarried. Simon approves of her husband-to-be but the wedding preparations he's gotten roped into are a huge hassle. At least the photographer is cute...

Worth The Wait (canon-div, T, 16k) - angst, pining What would happen if Wille arrived at Hillerska already in a relationship. The story of Wille and Simon (and Felice's) friendship over the years as they grow closer and ignore the obvious.

Future Favourite Regret (AU, T, 12k) - fluff, pining Simon spots Wille across a crowded room. After spending a night together, they go their separate ways. But apparently the universe thinks they're not done yet.

Anywhere With You (AU, M, 57k) - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort When Simon lands a singing job on a luxury cruise liner, he expects to work for a few months and head back home. What he doesn't expect is to fall in love.

Simon Eriksson Is Not Sick (post-canon, G, 1.3k) - fluff, hurt/comfort Simon Eriksson is not sick. Except he is. Luckily he has the best boyfriend in the world.

Autumn Drabbles (post-canon, G, 1.4k) - fluff, hurt/comfort A series of 14 drabbles written about the first autumn post-canon. Almost completely fluffy.

YR Drabble Week Collection (mix, T, 1k) - fluff, hurt/comfort A series of 10 drabbles. Some AU, some during canon, some post-canon, some canon-divergence.

The Icing On The Cake (AU, T, 12.3k) with @iwouldnevergetintofanfic - fluff Somehow, Wille has managed to end up holding the fort in Felice's cake shop. Of course, the worst case happens and a customer walks in. Not just any customer, though. No, the most beautiful man Wille has ever laid eyes on.

And I Need You Now Tonight (AU, T, 30k) - angst, hurt/comfort Simon and Wille have... an arrangement. But then something happens that throws their delicate agreement out of the window, and they're left having to figure out what they are to each other. Enemies? Indifferent colleges? Friends? Or... something else?

Paper Stars and Fairy Lights (AU, T, 11k) - fluff Simon has already had enough of Christmas when his car brakes down just when he's trying to buy a Christmas tree. Help comes from the most unlikely of places, and maybe he and the Prince of Sweden can help each other to rediscover the joy of Christmas.

Warm This Winter (AU, T, 6.7k) - fluff Simon is helping Linda run her stall at the Christmas Market. And he is cold. Luckily there is hot chocolate. And intriguing strangers who make it their mission to make sure Simon stays warm.

Ally Wherever You Land (canon-div, M, 47k) - (light) fluff, (light) angst, pining, (light) hurt/comfort The initiation scandal breaks before Wilhelm is enrolled at Hillerska. Erik finds himself having to win the public's approval and recruits Wilhelm's help, along with a Hillerska student who might raise Erik's profile within the LGBTQ+ community: Simon Eriksson.

Take a Punt (AU, T, 20k) - fluff, pining Wilhelm has been shipped off to England for university and he is not happy about it. That is, until he accidentally bumps into a fellow Swede. Of course, Wille tries to "accidentally" bump into Simon again. Luckily, the universe is on his side for once.

Make It Better (post-canon, 2.3k) - hurt/comfort Wille and Simon's son has a virus and a high fever and it's fallen to Wille to care for him.

Yours If You'll Have Me (canon-div, T, 9.4k) - (light) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort At Ludvig's funeral, Wille has a realisation about his best friend Simon. After an ill-thought-out kiss, he panics that their friendship is over. But luckily neither of them are willing to give up on each other that easily.

[fairestwriting]

YOU'RE BACK??? REQ OPEN???

I'm so happy that one of the first writers that I followed since the first day I enter the Twst fandom has made a come back 😭😭😭

And um for the req then can I have like a headcanon for Vil with a reader is just like appear so mature and introvert on the outside but with close one or sometimes the slipped or sth they're more silly and oblivious to their surroundings and like dumb and silly things (ex: Pepe Frog, Kriby the baby Elephant or some really hairy yet not hairy cats, etc). Maybe both of them are still and the crushing and pinning state.

Thank you 😭😭 And I'm so glad that you're back. Pls take care 🫶✨️✨️✨️

IM BACK AND DOING REQUESTS INDEED!!! tysmm anon you take care too <33

Vil Schoenheit

He would never admit it, but it constantly takes him off guard. Even as time passes and you two grow closer, it's like he can never fully get used to it — That's not really a bad thing, though.

Vil knows, maybe better than anyone, that a person's more "eccentric" traits aren't something that take away from their value. I mean, he has Rook as his vice leader, he's not going to really judge you for being a little silly. If anything he finds it endearing.

At the same time, though... he still can't fully get used to it. You two will be having a conversation, getting deep into the topic, your words all well-articulated and informed... and then you take a moment check the time on your phone, and your friend sent you some silly meme, and you can't stop giggling. He doesn't really know how to react.

Every time, he can't help but ask what it is that got your attention, and every time you show him, he feels all those... mixed emotions. That stern part in him wants to scold you, just a little bit, but he doesn't really have it in himself to actually do it. Plus... what is there to complain about? You're just having fun. His lecturing instincts are just a little too strong.

It's just both fascinating to him that you find all those things amusing, and he can't even begin to understand why you'd feel that way, despite your similarities. Maybe it'd genuinely bother him if it was harmful in some way, or if you were being inappropriate, but if it's all silly fun...

Maybe a part of him kind of hopes that the silliness will rub off on him. Only in private, of course, and it'll likely take forever, but as you get closer it all just starts to feel increasingly endearing to him. So you might actually get him to crack a little smile at a picture of a funny looking cat with you someday.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[goldenshrikecomic]

FAQ

Please read these before sending asks! It's also good to check the tags listed on the pinned post to see if it's already answered. Where can I read GS? On Comicfury or DeviantArt. Two pages ahead on both Patreon and Ko-fi.

Who works on this comic? Only me, ratt/doeprince. You can call me either, I usually refer to myself as doeprince when it's more official, otherwise ratt or some secret third thing. I'm an amateur artist and I draw these comics for fun without much ambition to gain greatness. I want to make enough money to be able to keep working on more comics, and buy trinkets.

How can I support what you do? Why thank you for asking! All my income comes from making comics, so the support on either Patreon or Ko-fi is literally making my comic endeavours possible.

Do you have other projects? I work on some secondary comics. Jet and Harley and Honey are currently updating, Corpse is finished. You can find my other art on doe-prince.

How long will Golden Shrike be? I don't know how many pages. I hope it's less than 1000.

What programs do you use? SAI for lineart, CSP for coloring and bubbles, PS for text and backgrounds. Hoooow do you draw the antlers from different perspectives? I've made 3D models for each recurring antlered character.

Is GS going to have physical merch? Will it be printed? Consider this a no, but I won't say never.

Does GS have a map, official wiki or dub or something like that? No. There's a fan wiki out there full of inaccurate information so take everything in there with tons of grains of salt. There's no map. The dub on YT is separate from me, I've had no hand in it.

Can I make a fan character? Can they interact with yours? You can absolutely make a fan character! I just ask you not to make them interact with mine, at least not in any kind of heavy way. It's a slippery slope and I've seen people treat my characters very rudely to make them suit their needs.

Can I make fanart/writing? Yes! All sfw and well-meaning works are welcome. Just tag me so I can see them! Why are the borders black and sometimes white? White borders means it's a flashback.

Deer don't do that!!!!! Or birds!! Or plants! The moon shouldn't be that shape right now. Everything in GS is fictional for this very reason. I shall not be shackled by the chains of realism when there's entire new worlds in my fingertips. I aim to make things believeable in its context, not realistic. Are other animals sentient, can they talk? Sure they are and can, but not outside their own species. A frog can't hold a conversation with a deer, but a deer and antelope could possibly make it work. There's exceptions though.

How old are main characters? They're fawns right? No they are not, they'd all be in their early 20s if they were humans.

What does sire mean? It keeps popping up in different contexts. You can liken this term to 'father', as in your dad but also something like a priest. The priest isn't your dad but "father forgive me for I've sinned". So sire is a) respected stag, b) very formal way to address your father. Dame is the female counterpart. Why are the does so small compared to stags.... are you a freak... do you just hate women..... Listen when I started GS I had been dwelling in a place where monster deer characters had insane size differences and it became some kind of norm to me and of course it found its way into my comic. Now I just have to keep drawing those tiny women to keep up the consistency. I've created bigger ladies nowadays because I too think it's a little silly now.

Please please will this character ever get a mate? Will this pairing be canon? Will you please make this pairing canon? I won't spoil any pairings, I think it'd be the most boring thing to do to my own work! I'll only confirm the ones already established in the comic.

Is this a speck of ember? Is it snow? What is that floating thing, is it relevant to the plot? IT'S JUST MY DUST BRUSH LEAVE ME ALONE.

[yuanology]

Im back again👹, I’ve been thinking on fwb with suguru, and I believe that in some way Suguru would prefer fucking in the night, only the moon through the window as a source of light, yknow like i can’t get out of my head praising suguru, telling him how pretty he is but he can’t help it but feel not enough ,like not enough to be something more than a sexual partner

lowpropgeo my head is full of sad ideas 🐸(it’s a sad frog )

jesus fucking christ.

suguru lets out the prettiest noises when you're buried deep inside of him, thrusting into him lazily as if you intended to make love to him until the end of the world came and passed, leaving your skeletons still wrapped in each other's arms; a perfect mimicry of the lovers you were not.

he was shy about his noises. you knew that from the very beginning. he would cover his mouth with his hand, beg you to stuff his mouth full with your fingers. even so, you always taught him that there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about. you always caught his wrists, pinning them over his head, as you coaxed sound after sound out of his lips.

tonight was no different. the blinds were parted slightly, just enough for the moonlight to filter through. it was a pleasant reminder that just one wrong move was all that it would take to reveal everything unraveling here to the rest of the world.

you were always careful with him. this sight was just for you, after all—geto suguru in your sheets, his back arched and his lips parted, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and his toes curling in his pleasure as you coaxed out pretty sound after pretty sound from his mouth. he was beautiful, always had been, and unlike most people, you had the privilege to tell him that straight to his face.

so you did.

"you're beautiful," you whispered. your voice was too soft, too loaded with such reverence and awe, but you had learned to stop catching yourself a long time ago. suguru was always the most beautiful when the compliments would filter through his ears, and the weight of your words would settle on his ribs.

true enough, suguru let out a sound that was akin to a sob. his nails dragged across the skin on your back, no doubt leaving red marks that wouldn't fade away for days. you only let out a low chuckle, the sound helplessly fond, as your mouth met the skin of his jaw.

"it's true," you continued. "you're beautiful, suguru. every inch of you." especially this way, bathed in the moonlight with his hair splayed all around him like a crown; a halo befitting a fallen angel

here, cradled in your existence, geto suguru was entirely yours—and what a thrill it was to hold him in your arms, to simply hold him as you fuck into him lazily without a care for the world. "so, so beautiful," you murmured.

he let out a ruined sound. "please," he choked out. it wasn't the first time he had begged you tonight, and you sincerely doubted this would be the last if you kept this up.

he was always so good to you, setting aside his pride and arrogance just so that you would hold him the way he deserved to be held—as if he was something precious, as if he was someone worthy. it was still nice, admittedly, to see suguru break and become a mindless being who just wanted more of your touch, your presence, your love.

"please what, gorgeous?" your lips skirted over his jaw.

his voice was strangled. "want more. not enough." he sounded fucked out, entirely braindead. you doubted he even noticed the way his hips were fucking against you, the motion steady enough that you could stop thrusting into him and he would barely notice.

"what's not enough, lovely?" you asked him. a customary question.

you expected the ordinary answers, the sound of his voice catching in his throat repeatedly before he managed to grit out his answer. please, you could already hear him say. please, this isn't enough. i want more. it was routine at this point, a predictable motion, a back and forth.

so you weren't expecting it when he choked out—

"you."

there were tears in his eyes. his nails were scratching down your back. his voice was ruined. this should all be the usual. this should be predictable.

except his answer was all the wrong ones.

oblivious to your internal struggle, suguru sobbed underneath you. his body writhed, clinging onto you tighter. "please, please, please," he babbled. "i want more. not enough. please, not enough."

not enough. not enough. not enough.

all thoughts of lingering quickly curdled into something sour in your stomach. you reared back, hips meeting his in one abrupt motion. a loud scream escaped suguru's throat, a sound that you would usually relish in but couldn't focus on now.

your motions were robotic as you fucked him, sharp and hard and fast the way suguru liked it when you ruined him. not enough, huh? fine. if suguru thought none of this was enough, then you would just please him the way he wanted to be pleased. you wouldn't linger any longer, wouldn't give him reprieve or a chance to be touched the way he deserved to be touched.

(and fuck, didn't that thought hurt? you thought you were both doing well; that something more was perhaps blooming. you must have thought wrong.)

suguru continued letting out slurred words under his breath, his pleas bleeding into the sound of his own choked moans. you disregarded it. instead, you fucked him as if you didn't care about him, fucked him as if he was just another warm body for you to get yourself off on.

suguru wailed, and you swallowed the heart beating in the back of your mouth.

not enough. not enough. not enough.

you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, feeling him shudder underneath you beautifully. you couldn't help the lump that formed in your throat, the gentle ache in your chest that you had learned to associate with geto suguru.

not enough.

it shouldn't be a surprise, really, that suguru woke up the next morning without you by his side for the first time in a long time. there was no letter, no message, none of your warmth lingering on the bed next to him. you were gone, just like that.

still, suguru thought as he clenched his fists. at least, if you were going to leave him, you shouldn't cook him breakfast and leave out coffee before you did.