#we shall be there in a few weeks though

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

...Turns out gay sex actually was the solution.

(This is basically a redraw, come read the real deal over at Tiger Tiger)

[faithfulcat111]

So, last year my roommates and I befriended a few different performers at a nearby Ren Faire cause we just went so much cause we could actually do so. Which was great! Unfortunately, we couldn't financially do the same this year, so we are only going to two weekends instead of the seven we did last year. But opening weekend was last weekend and we are getting messages asking when we will be coming already XD

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix - Sebastian Vettel(ft. Mark Webber & Jenson Button)

[spaghett-onaplate]

it's literally not a good idea in any way shape or form but I want to get a second job in fast food

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent things

[rosicheeks]

how is the sale going?

🙃🙃🙃🙃

[raskies456]

GRE today…..

[thequeervampiric]

my throat is achiiiing

[pucksandpower]

So Good to Me

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc is the perfect man for you … getting stopped on the street for a random TikTok challenge just serves to prove that even further

The warm Monaco sun beats down on you as you stroll leisurely along the bustling sidewalk, a canvas tote bag filled with fresh produce and flowers from the local farmer’s market hanging from your shoulder. The salty sea breeze wafts across your face, carrying with it the excited chatter and laughter of tourists admiring the luxurious yachts bobbing in Port Hercules.

You smile to yourself, relishing this perfect Mediterranean afternoon. Just a quick stop at home to drop off your purchases, and then maybe you’ll take a dip in the infinity pool on the terrace to cool off before Charles is done with-

“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle!” A young man’s voice breaks through your daydreaming. You glance over to see a twenty-something guy with a neatly trimmed beard, expensive-looking sunglasses, and a black t-shirt emblazoned with HUSTLE in white block letters. He’s holding a mini microphone and has his iPhone pointed at you, clearly filming.

A TikToker.

You sigh internally but force a polite smile.

“Oui, puis-je vous aider?” You reply in French.

“Ah sorry, I don’t speak much French! Do you speak English?” The TikToker asks eagerly in a British accent.

“Yes, I do. Can I help you with something?” You say, switching to English yourself. You just want to get home but you know these influencer types can be annoyingly persistent.

The TikToker grins. “Brilliant! I’m doing a social experiment for my followers. I was wondering — do you have a significant other? A boyfriend or husband perhaps?”

You raise an eyebrow questioningly but decide to humor him. “Um, yes, I have a boyfriend,” you answer simply.

His eyes light up. “Fantastic! And would you say your boyfriend loves you very much?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the boldness of this stranger’s line of questioning. “Yes, I would definitely say that. He loves me a lot,” you confirm, a soft smile playing on your lips as you think of Charles.

“Perfect! Okay, here’s the challenge,” the TikToker announces dramatically, staring intensely into his camera. “I want you to call up your boyfriend right now and ask him to send you some money. Doesn’t matter how much. But for every €100 he sends, I’ll give you €20 to keep for yourself. Let’s see how much he really loves you, shall we?”

You stare at this guy incredulously for a moment before bursting out laughing. Is he serious? He clearly has no idea who your boyfriend is. An amused smirk spreads across your face as you fish your iPhone out of your designer purse.

“Alright, you’re on,” you say confidently, already unlocking your phone and tapping on Charles’ contact. The TikToker looks surprised but excited that you actually agreed to his silly challenge.

“Put it on speaker phone,” he instructs, zooming his camera in on your phone screen which is now dialing Charles.

After a few rings, the warm, honey-smooth voice you adore comes through. “Allô mon amour, what’s up?” Charles greets you sweetly. “I’m just finishing up some simulator runs but I should be done soon to help with dinner.”

“Hey baby,” you reply, your voice automatically softening. “Sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy. But I’m out right now and I just passed by that little boutique near the casino, you know the one? And I saw the most incredible pair of shoes in the window. I swear they were calling my name.”

Charles laughs affectionately, the sound like music to your ears even through the cell phone speaker. “Oh yeah? The ones that were calling your name last week turned out to be, what was it, €900?” He teases.

You roll your eyes playfully even though he can’t see. “Okay, fair, but you know I hardly ever splurge on myself. I’m usually so frugal!”

“Mmhmm, whatever you need to tell yourself, chérie,” Charles says wryly and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Let me guess, you need to go get these dream shoes right now? Or else they’ll haunt you forever?”

“You know me so well,” you gush dramatically. “I promise I’ll pay you back though! I get paid next week and-”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Charles cuts you off gently. “Mon cœur, you never have to pay me back, you know that. I love being able to treat you and spoil you. You deserve the world. Never forget that.”

You feel yourself melt at his earnest words, momentarily forgetting you have an audience. “I love you so much,” you murmur. “Thank you for always being so good to me.”

“Right back at you, ma belle. Je t’aime,” Charles says tenderly. “There, check your banking app. Let me know if you need any more. And have fun shopping! I’ll see you at home in a bit, okay? À bientôt!”

You glance down at your phone as a notification from your bank pops up on the screen. Your eyes widen slightly when you see the amount Charles sent over, but you recover quickly.

“Thank you, baby. See you soon!” You reply before hanging up. You turn back to the TikToker who is gaping at you in disbelief. Casually, you turn your phone screen towards him and his camera so he can clearly see the notification that €10,000 has just been deposited into your account.

The poor guy looks like he’s about to pass out from shock. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, rendered speechless. You just laugh good-naturedly.

“Well, guess I won your little challenge, huh?” You remark, slipping your phone back into your purse. “Tell you what, why don’t you donate whatever money you were going to give me to a local animal shelter instead? I think it’ll be put to much better use there.”

The TikToker finally manages to pick his jaw up off the floor. He laughs shakily and nods. “Yeah ... yeah I can do that. Wow. Um, thanks for being such a good sport about this. And congrats on, uh, winning, I guess?”

You give him a friendly wink. “Anytime. Have a nice rest of your day!” With that, you turn gracefully on your heel and continue on your way back home, feeling rather smug and deeply appreciative of your wonderfully generous boyfriend.

“Wait!” The TikToker calls out after you. You glance back over your shoulder curiously. He hesitates before asking in an awed voice, “If you don’t mind me asking ... who the hell is your boyfriend?”

An enigmatic smile plays on your lips. “No one special really,” you reply breezily. “Just a guy who loves driving fast cars.”

You leave the gaping TikToker in your wake as you saunter off, already daydreaming about showing your appreciation to Charles later for being the most incredible boyfriend imaginable.

Maybe you really will splurge on those designer shoes after all … and pick up a little something special from the lingerie boutique next door while you’re at it.

Your smile widens. Just as a little thank you to your man, of course. Life is good when you’re in love with Charles Leclerc.

[morthstaar]

Please, PLEASE Tulpar crew x a very shy/introverted reader who is like crushing on the crew really hard but way too shy and embarrassed to tell them but like the crew starts to slowly catch on to them and the way they act different around them. Also I don't mean the crew as a whole I mean the separate characters 😭🙏🏽

ask and u shall receive 😈

-------------------------------------------------------

OH GOD, YOU CAN TELL?

----------------------------

Captain Curly

-oh.. curly knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that you had the biggest crush on him.

-there is no slow realization.

-not at all oblivious to it.

-everytime your eyes would seemingly uncontrollably and totally unconsciously drift to him he would try to meet your gaze with a friendly, boyish smirk.

-does that happen? HELL NAH. you are much too shy to even look the captain in the eye.

-your little heart almost beats out of your chest at any interaction. little or big.

-"Hey, just the person I needed to see. I have a little favor to ask you."

-oh god. suddenly words seem hard to pronounce and the entirety of the english language is no where to be seen.

-after a few weeks, curly would definitely find this endearing.

-i feel like since curly is so outgoing, he would be very intrigued by someone who is the complete opposite.

-curly wouldn't act much different when it comes to you, due to maintaining professionalism as his role as captain.

-he may due small acts like making a cake simply to indulge in your sweet-tooth that he somehow knew about you.

-"oh, we just had extra packets of sugar. i just thought id bake something. you like cake right?"

-cheeky motherfucker.

Intern Daisuke

-dude is so so so oblivious even though you make it perfectly clear...

-you could be making like.. making out with the guy and he'd be like,

-"yoo, we are literally besties right?"

-deadass, he prolly had no idea you liked him for weeks.

-you could be laughing extra loud at his jokes then realize ur laughing too loud, look at him while he isn't looking at you, sneak an extra sweetener packet on his bed when he isn't around,,,,

-his ass still is clueless.

-it takes either curly or swansea's help to realize that you had a massive crush on him but were just to shy to say something.

-once he realizes, he is now all over you and following you around like a lost puppy. not nonchalant at ALL.

-literally tries to pick up the polle statue to show his 'guns' but the statue moves only an inch..

-now he is hyper aware of your actions and reactions, he finds your shyness just SO CUTE WTFFF.

-compliments you to see what you would do.

-"man, have you always been this hot or is it just the sweetener talking?"

-runs away.....

-would steal sweetener packets just for you two to share :)

Nurse Anya

-i feel like she notices how different you act around her, but she just thinks its because you two are good friends.

-she never assumes anything, just her friend being friendly.

-even though you sometimes make it unintentionally obvious..

-like this one time you recommend her a book from your quarters library and her fingers lightly grazed yours reaching for it.

-oh shit. her soft hands touched yours. oh god what does a normal person do in this situation??

-"thank you for the-oh... book."

-well, they don't smile awkwardly, sweat pouring down their face and leave in a hurry with the book still in their hand.

-anya isn't stupid or completely oblivious by any means. she definitely knew from this encounter of your little crush on her.

-she is quite flattered honestly. someone so similar to her truly likes her?

-when she fully processes this information, she is very subtle with how she shows her affection back.

-during check-ups, she sometimes gives you a treat from one of her desk drawers for being a good patient.

-other times she lets you join her late at night in the lounge to just look at the pretty night time screen.

-"this makes me miss home. it's so beautiful."

-you'd look over at her and her eyes are not on the screen, far from it actually.

-her eyes are on you.

-so this is what a heart attack feels like..

Mechanic Swansea

-unpopular hot-take, swansea is actually a dilf and he often has younger men/women confess their feelings to him.

-so because of that headcanon, swansea definitely knows how you feel from the first time y'all met.

-your eyes would subconsciously peek at his open shirt revealing his chest. suspiciously, whenever he would look back, you quickly turn away shyly...

-he immediately thinks he is way to old for this shit. he just got out of a divorce and prolly never wanted to try again. especially with someone younger.

-"what is with this damn younger generation with old people.."

-he tries to avoid you even though you two are co-workers and.. work together. on the same ship.

-as weeks go by, your shyness starts to grow on this grumpy man. he... he thinks it's endearing in a sense..

-he rather likes how reserved you are, and how are aren't as loudmouthed as daisuke.

-he won't act much different to you, but according to the rest of the crew it is obvious.

-swansea leaves little sticky notes reminding you to eat or sleep because lets be honest.. you are quite neglectful, and the sticky note quotes,,

-"..the crew doesn't need you passin' out while doin' your job. so eat or i will make you."

-swansea is also much more soft-spoken with you than anyone else.

-he has never raised his voice or spoken down on you. his usual brashness and snarky remarks are now toned down (but not entirely) around you.

-"hey. i didn't say you had to leave, did i? stop puttin' words in my damn mouth and sit."

Co-captain Jimmy

-jimmy prolly doesn't even acknowledge you at first.

-you could be looking at him, thinking he doesn't know that your eyes are skimming over his face and body.

-oh but jimmy.. he does know,,, but he never shows that he does.

-he likes the attention on him. your eyes looking him over when she doesn't even know that he is soaking it up.

-im sorry but he definitely gets off to the fact that you are shy and get flustered easily.

-he loves how malleable and submissive you are due to your shyness. and he uses it to his advantage.

-he shows his affection strongly after he knows your crush.like sometimes he would purposefully follow you places and when you turn around he'd be like..

-"do you mind? you're in my way.."

-i feel like he wouldn't know how to properly express his feelings so he would be kind of unnecessarily mean and cruel.

-and after he would be mean he would be nice and extra affectionate so you would still like him.

-like you could be working on something and is critical about your work.

-"are you serious? tsk.. move, since you clearly cannot perform a basic task."

-then later he's like..

-"im glad someone on this ship is helpful, like you."

-basically, he purposefully plays with your feelings to get you to confess bc i feel like he likes when women come to him.....

[fastandcarlos]

Everyone's Favourite LeClerc : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: he was used to being the leclerc on everybody's lips, but when you take your daughter to visit the paddock it turns out charles might not be the favourite that he thought he was

You could hear the familiar chuckles coming from the Ferrari garage from halfway down the paddock, keeping your daughter in your hold as you swerved around the chaos. There were people everywhere that you tried to avoid, eventually reaching the garage and opening up the door, greeted, as always, by a sea of dark red staring back at you.

From across the room, Carlos was the first to spot you, waving over the crowds. He moved around a few people before reaching you and your daughter, kneeling down as you placed your daughter on her feet.

“Aurelie!” He yelled, capturing her attention as she stumbled towards him, barely able to keep her balance.

“She’s been asking for you all morning,” you chuckled, moving across to Carlos to greet him too.

“Oh I see, second best am I?” A voice called out as he closed in on the three of you. Charles didn’t miss a trick, as soon as he knew that you were in the room his protective eyes were trying to find you. He pressed a kiss against your cheek as Aurelie continued to cuddle Carlos, completing ignoring her father. “Am I invisible or something, you can see me, right?” Charles pouted, looking to you for a little bit of support. Your hand pressed against his cheek, offering a sympathetic smile.

“She only saw you, it’s been weeks since she got to see Carlos,” you reminded him, knowing that Charles was only messing with the strop that he threw beside you.

“I can’t believe my own daughter doesn’t even want to know me,” he huffed.

“Sucks to be you,” Carlos teased as Aurelie ran her hands through Carlos’ fluffy locks.

Charles watched the two of them for a few more moments before he reached out his hands. “That’s it, you’re mine,” he teased, taking Aurelie from Carlos’ hold and showering her with kisses all over her face. Aurelie squealed and squirmed in his hold, trying her best to push against his chest and get away. Charles was nowhere near letting her go though, reminding her exactly who her father was and who loved her the most.

“Poor girl,” Carlos chuckled as he watched the two of them.

“You’re my baby,” Charles whispered as he finally let Aurelie relax in his hold.

“So jealous,” you hummed under your breath, just loud enough for Charles to hear as he shot a glare across in your direction.

“Fancy having a look around? Seeing the car for this weekend?” Carlos offered as he slung his arm across your shoulders. “We’re on for a good race this week.”

You nodded in reply, “Aurelie has been desperate to see daddy’s car,” you noted, watching as Charles’ eyes lit up as you spoke.

“Shall we go and see daddy’s car?” He asked, proudly grinning as the girl in his arms bounced up and down excitedly, keen to have a good look around.

“And Uncle Carlos’ car too?” Carlos added, feeling Charles stare across at him, unable to stop himself from getting a little jab in and winding Charles up once again.

You hung back slightly as Charles and Carlos began to walk Aurelie around the garage, one of her small hands in each of their own. She was still too young to fully understand what was going on, but seeing how busy things were always made her eyes light up. Seeing people cheer for her dad and want to talk to her too was the perfect weekend for her.

Aurelie listened closely as Charles talked her through his car, making sure to keep it as simple as he could. Once the garage tour was completed you decided to head out around the rest of the paddock and see what you could find. Soon enough you had several of the drivers around you, all keen to greet Aurelie and see who could entertain her the best.

You had never seen Charles so proud, he loved introducing his little girl to his world and letting her see all the cool things he got up to. Above all else, he loved that some of his closest friends were there with him at the garage and that he got to see them bond with Aurelie which was all that he had ever wanted. His daydream was broken by you appearing next to him, nudging gently against his side. Charles’ smile turned up as soon as he realised that it was you there, taking a hold of your hand and pulling you closely in against his side.

As much as Charles wanted to have all his attention on you, he couldn’t ignore the giggles that constantly came from next to him as Lando and George tried their best to keep Aurelie happy.

It was nice for the two of you to have a couple of moments all to yourselves.

“I love having you both here and being able to have you in my little world,” Charles whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of your head. “It always gives me extra motivation to do well whenever I know that the two of you are cheering me on as well,” he added.

“I wouldn’t miss this race for the world,” you whispered, “I know how important Monaco is for you and how much you want to do well today.”

“Thank you for being here,” Charles then told you, taking you by surprise with how sincere his voice was. “I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate the efforts you go to to support, and make sure that Aurelie can come and support me too.”

Your eyes narrowed on Charles, convinced there was a hint of a tear in his eye.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he joked, knowing exactly what you were thinking without even having to look at you. “I’m not going to start crying with all of these losers around to see it and tease the hell out of me for it.”

“It’s okay to admit that it means a lot,” you assured him, brushing underneath his eye with the pad of your thumb. “Truthfully, it means a lot for me to be able to be here and see you achieve your dreams too.”

As much as F1 was a dream for Charles, the biggest dream he’d achieved was the giggling figure currently pulling at Lando’s feeble attempt of a beard on his face.

You both could only laugh as Lando squealed in pain, pushing against George as he encouraged Aurelie to keep going and cause Lando as much pain as possible.

“I worry about the influence of all your friends sometimes,” you jokingly admitted to Charles, shaking your head at the scene that was unfolding.

“How are you two just stood there letting this happen?” Lando gasped at you both.

You both shrugged, much to Lando’s dissatisfaction. She was as cheeky as her dad, and loved to try and push the boundaries as much as she possibly could.

“I blame you for this,” you laughed, tapping against Charles’ stomach. “She copies your habits way more than she copies mine,” you added, raising your eyebrows across at him.

“I’m an angel,” Charles protested.

“You?” You gasped in disbelief, “you must be having a laugh right now.”

“You adore me enough to have a child with me,” he noted.

“True,” you scoffed, finding yourself caught out and unable to figure out what to say next. Charles looked at you expectantly, knowing that he’d got you and once again left you pretty speechless because of him.

When you remained silent, he leant forwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “I love our little family, even if it is chaos sometimes.”

“Me too, I would never have it any other way.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[tashibum]

To Own, But Not To Share (III)

Part 1&2

Emperor Geta x Female Reader

Chapter Summary: Geta helps you with your anxiety around contracting syphilis and ensures you will never be infected

Chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+, orgy, oral sex, discussion of periods and STIs, reader has anxiety (much like the author), slave to lovers??, cumshot, the twins have mommy issues. 3.6k words. Read on AO3

The thrill of having sex with an Emperor soon wore off. You believed it was good to remember your place in his life in order to not get your hopes up. You were nothing but decoration on his arm to rub his back or play with his hair. He did not have sex with you again before your next period, he simply requested you pet him. Seeing you no longer be his favourite put you in good graces with the other concubines.

You discovered that when the concubines spent a week away from the Emperors for their bleed, the women were thankful for the respite. The fake smiles and giggles could finally end as you were embraced with the pain from your womb. The shared experience brought you closer with your fellow slaves

“It’s getting worse. There’s definitely more now - I can feel it,” Julia expressed, her hand down her loincloth.

You assumed she was talking about her blood. After all, that was why you were all kept away in the slaves quarters and not with the Emperors.

“You complain as though you are the only one of us afflicted with it,” Silvia protested.

You felt a need to contribute. Even though what you were experiencing was unpleasant, it could be worse.

“We should take solace that we are not with child. We would be kicked out and left pregnant in the streets. Or executed.”

The two concubines stared at you from their beds not looking amused.

“You think we are talking about menses? That is nothing,” Julia explained.

If they were not commiserating about their cycle, you did not know what other affliction they had.

“You don’t know do you?” Silvia gasped, then turned to look at her friend, twirling her hair around her finger.

“You pleasured Caracalla and did not see the growths surrounding his length? The scars gracing his face? His disease spreads to all of us,” clarified Julia.

While you did use your hands and sex on the man, you admit you did not look closely at him. The thought of now being infected with a whore’s disease made your stomach drop. Was this why Geta didn’t want you to attend to his brother? Or why he no longer desired you? Maybe he saw the concubines that slept with Caracalla as ‘tainted’.

“How do you know you have it? What are the first signs?” You asked panicked.

“Sores and rashes. You have not been here long enough for them to turn up though,” described Silvia.

It did little in relieving you. Even if you were infected, you would not know it yet.

The news of potentially having syphilis did not help you settle into your new home. Your anxiety spiked again, having relaxed slightly over the past few weeks. A symptom of this was having your appetite diminish. You had food constantly offered to you, but you barely ate two small meals a day. Once your blood stopped and you returned to the Emperors’ side, the fruit and meats Geta held to you did not enter your lips.

“One berry,” Geta tried to convince you to eat from his hand, but you shook your head. He took a bite out of the fruit then pressed it onto your skin, it’s juice leaving a trail from your neck to your nipple where the man rubbed it over your exposed breast. He then discarded the half eaten berry on the floor and leant in to suck your nipple. He sucked for a while, as though it was more comforting than sexual for him.

“Shall we buy a wet nurse for you, brother?” Caracalla joked and everyone erupted in laughter, even yourself. It was the first time you had laughed in months, what was there to be happy about being enslaved.

“We all know the wet nurse is your fantasy, not mine,” Geta retorted, and walked away from the rest of the group.

“I think we have upset him. More wine to celebrate!” cheered Caracalla, delighted with the response he got out of Geta. The remaining concubines cheered also, and you sipped your goblet of wine, laughing from Caracalla’s continued mocking of his brother distracted you from your anxiety.

A couple of days later, A praetorian told you that Geta requested your presence in his bed chambers. You had not had sex with him since your first full day at the palace, so were intrigued how he would put you to use. He was your master, and he could use you as little or frequent as he wanted.

It was night, and while he still wore his brightly coloured toga, his makeup had been cleaned off. It was the first time you had seen him without any coloured powder surrounding his eyes. It made him look gentler, it made his brown eyes look bigger.

“Come sit with me,” he ordered and you walked towards his grand bed. It was a large four poster bed with soft white sheets. It matched his title, the way your small metal bed matched your title of slave.

You awkwardly sat down next to him, sinking into the wool mattress. You stared around the room, paintings hung on the walls and furniture was bountiful. His chambers was bigger than your entire family home. The fortune he had made you feel sick. The Emperors had no idea of life other than the entitled ones they lived. This man could not relate to anything you had experienced in your life.

He had a balcony that looked over gardens and a courtyard, the door leading out there was open and let in a gentle cooling breeze. You imagined it must be peaceful to have the sights and sounds of nature enter your home instead of the packed bustling city streets.

“Would you rather us sit and look at the night sky? I will request an extra chair be brought out for you,” Geta decided, not even waiting for your response. He went to the door and returned with a guard carrying a chair to the balcony.

“I’ve never had company out here before,” he admitted softly as you took a seat on the cold metal garden chair.

You imagined he had company in his chambers plenty of times before, especially in his bed. But no one had ever ventured out onto this space. Strange, given how he offered it so quickly to you.

“Beautiful grounds,” you commented, unsure of what to say or what he wanted from you. If he wanted to have sex with you, he wouldn’t bring you out here to look at stars, he would get straight to it.

“I rarely spend time out there. There’s always more important things to attend to.”

His definition of important made you giggle inside. All the brothers did were drink, party and order the senates around.

“What troubles you?” He asked, turning his body to you.

“I do not understand, Emperor. I am fine,” you dismissed.

“You should be gaining weight, but you are losing it. I never see you eat. Does the food displease you?” Questioned Geta.

You didn’t know how you were going to explain yourself. He would not understand your worries and how they affected you. How you have to stop yourself from thinking about the future due to how bleak it was. Once the syphilis takes over your body, the Emperors would no longer want you and you would be tossed out onto the streets along side the other concubines.

“I’m just not very hungry,” you explained away, averting your eyes to the floor.

“Stop lying to me!” He shouted, getting up from his chair to stand over you. He was very intimidating like this; it made you want to curl up and hide.

“I - I’m worried,” you hurriedly confessed.

“About what? Who is making you feel this way?” He seethed.

“The - the disease that your brother has. All the concubines have it, and I fear I’m next, that I already have it.”

Geta slowly sat back down on his chair. He knew all about his brother’s illness, how he passed it to everyone that touched him. How the concubines could give it to each other during the Emperors’ orgies.

“The fear consumes me, consumes my appetite.”

Geta shook his head. There was no cure for anyone in Rome with the sickness. His brother was slowly going mad with it, and it was a matter of time before the concubines followed suit.

“Stand up. Let me check,” he offered. He did not want to become like his brother and contract the illness, and he didn’t want you to have it either. He only just got you, hadn’t had his moneys worth yet.

You stood up and waited for whatever the Emperor planned to do, unsure how he would check. He took the bold move to kneel before you and tug down your loincloth to your ankles. He raised your short tunic for you to hold so he could be face to face with your pussy. It was a bizarre situation to find yourself in - the Emperor of Rome staring at your shaved mound in the moonlight. You looked down but all you could see was his curls, looking dark in the night. He moved your legs apart and then his head disappeared as he went further into his examination of you. His fingers stroked the skin of your vulva, then spread your lips to see your most sensitive skin.

“Do you have sores anywhere on your body? In your mouth? Any fevers?”

You shook your head no for all of it. You were unsure how much detail he could see in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars. Besides, he wasn’t a healer. All he knew was power and greed, so you couldn’t picture his diagnosis being accurate.

His fingers stopped their search and his hands wrapped around you, the side of his head pressed into your sex, as though he was giving the lower half of your body a hug.

“You’re not infected,” Geta muttered. His eyes were shut in relief as he held your thighs to him. You remained still though.

He looked up at you from your legs. “Trust me. I know this disease. I know what it looks like. You do not have it.”

This did ease your mind, but you would still keep an eye out for symptoms.

“You don’t have it, and I’ll keep it that way,” he promised.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him and let your tunic cover you again.

“How will you keep it that way? No one can control Emperor Caracalla.”

Geta stood up and held your head in his hands. “I will kill him before I let him lay a finger on you.”

It was extremely brazen to say, it could be interpreted as treason.

“He is selfish, only wants what I have. If he does not see me with you, he will not want you,” he clarified.

“Whatever you wish, Emperor.”

If he did not want to use you, that was your owner’s choice. It was not your place to say that it was pointless for him to buy a concubine and not put her to use.

“I will only use you in my chambers. I will tell the guards you have unlimited access to the palace,” declared Geta.

You stupidly thought he would no longer use you for sex, how wrong you were! Now, the Emperor would only fuck you in private.

“Am I dismissed, Emperor?” You asked, pulling your loincloth up to cover you again. You desperately wanted to tell the other concubines what had transpired.

“No,” he blurted out. “Rest with me.”

You assumed it was a polite way of saying he wanted you, especially when he took off his toga and slipped underneath the covers naked. But he patted the space next to him in the bed, so you went next to him, choosing to stay dressed.

To begin with, you laid frigid on your back, hands by your sides. If you were not going to have sex with him, you did not know how to relax around him. He moved his body so his head rested on the centre of your chest. You moved one of your hands to hold him, and the other raked through his hair. Periodically, you leant down to kiss the top of his head. The Emperor hummed contently. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. The powerful Emperor was gone, and a needy boy had replaced him.

“If you tell any one of this, I will kill you with my bare hands,” Geta suddenly threatened, disrupting the peace.

“You have my word, Emperor.”

You woke up with light streaming in from the curtains. There was no sunshine, so you knew it was early. The Emperor no longer laid on top on you, but slept on his back to the side of you. You lifted up the sheet covering you to look at his naked resting body; to see him in a state of peace. While doing so, you indulged in looking at his toned body, his facial stubble and of course his cock, that was comically standing up.

“Suck it,” he taunted, voice deep and groggy. You quickly whipped your head around to look at his face.

“You know you want to,” he teased with a lazy smile.

He had caught you ogling him like a pervert. There was no point trying to act prim and proper now. You pushed the sheets towards the end of the bed and sat in between his legs. You began by slowly stroking him, watching the glide of his foreskin reveal and cover his tip again and again. Every time his tip came out, you gave it a gentle kiss.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he flirted. He took ahold of your hair and encouraged you to start taking more of him in your mouth. You tried your best to make it pleasurable for him, doing all you could to keep your teeth hidden and mouth wet. He enjoyed the sounds you made as you gagged on his cock and needed to touch more of you than just your hair.

“Come here,” he instructed. He grabbed you and guided you to his head. You were unsure what he wanted from you, but he pushed your head and back down, so knew he wanted you to continue sucking him off from this new position. Your thighs settled on either side of his head and you could feel his hands unravelling your loincloth. Soon, he tossed the fabric onto the floor and you were exposed to him.

It was humiliating having him so close to your core. You tried so hard to keep your body as far away from his face as possible that your thighs began to tremble. When he leaned up and gave a wet kiss to your pussy lips, you stopped straining and relaxed your body onto his face. The rough stubble of his beard grazed your soft thighs. His tongue explored you, from your hole up to your hard clit.

“Breakfast is served. You’ve prepared a feast for me,” he bragged.

His tongue distracted you from your ministrations on his dick. When his mouth went to your clit and stayed there, and starting sucking, you rested your head on his thigh. Was this how it felt when a man was getting sucked? If so, you could understand why the Emperors had an endless chain of people to have sex with. You grinded on him, feeling his nose press against you.

“The more I clean up, the more your body produces,” he stated, discussing the endless liquid arousal you excreted.

“Cum. Cum on me,” he directed, his voice muffled from his mouth pressed against you.

The way his mouth felt on you, it didn’t take long before your orgasm started. Your empty hole contracted, your stomach muscles tensed causing you to shake. When you began to come down from your high, you began working on his dick again. You sucked on the head while your hand stroked up and down his shaft. Soon, he flooded your mouth with his load. His gasps accompanying his flexed feet.

You turned around to let him watch you swallow down his seed. He shook his head against the pillow, unable to believe he got so lucky to have someone like you enter his life.

“That’s the most you’ve eaten in weeks,” he jested, his soft smile making you forget that he was a sadistic leader.

“You’ll have to keep feeding me,” you teased back.

You rose up from the bed and walked over to where your loincloth landed. You started to wrap it around you when you were interrupted.

“I have not dismissed you yet,” Geta condemned. The sudden harshness of his tone made you freeze.

“I will request food be brought up to us,” he spoke. He grabbed a robe and tied it up before walking out of the room.

For the next few weeks, you spent every night you were not bleeding in his chambers. You fed each other the best food Rome had to offer, gazed at the stars on his balcony and became more and more comfortable with each other’s bodies. The most you did in front of others was hold hands. It was strange for the Emperor to have to restrain himself, but it was worth it knowing his brother had no interest in you.

The clothes given to you started to change. The revealing dresses you wore were swapped for more modest outfits. It made you stick out from the other concubines around the twins. While the other women wore dresses with their breasts hanging out and bottoms barely covered, the only skin you showed were your arms.

Caracalla demanded that an orgy be organised. He was desperate for a party and to let loose. You didn’t understand how it would be any different from his normal days, but looked forward to getting dressed up for something.

Geta knew he had to do something in order to keep his brother away from you that night. Geta was only interested in being intimate with you, and knew that once Caracalla would see this, he’d want a piece of you too. So he went out of his way to buy a new concubine, but a different one than normal. The new woman was older than you, and had big swinging breasts. He hoped his brother would take the bait.

“She’s……………larger than normal,” his brother noted when he first saw their new slave. “And older.”

“Let’s see what she is capable of tonight,” Geta reasoned. He knew that once his brother had consumed enough wine and drugs, he would be all over the new woman like a starving newborn.

Geta and yourself watched on from a chaise lounge as Caracalla devoured the newest concubine. A glass of wine and a line of rhino horn was all it took for him to pull her dress off.

When he was fully distracted was when Geta finally made a move on you. He undid the clasp and let your dress drop to the floor, leaving you completely naked.

“She has not been shaven,” Silvia brought to Geta’s attention. When the maidens had bathed you recently, you noticed that the razor did not come out as often. So your dark curls had returned.

“She is at my preference,” disclosed Geta. Being clean shaven was for the whores. You were more than that.

“But she needs to be smooth,” Silvia carried on, having been shaved for the Emperors’ beauty standards for as long as she had been in the palace.

“She is at my preference!” he raged.

He turned back to you, disappointed that he had expressed such rage in front of you.

“Never mind that. Lay down for me dear,” he whispered so no one saw him show weakness.

You had sex with him on top of you, your legs up on his shoulders. When you thought you couldn’t get closer, he pushed himself forward, your legs now pushed back against your chest.

He was so deep inside you, you feared he would take away your ability to walk. Fucking you so fast, his gold crown fell off. After thrust after thrust of him abusing that spot within you, you started to clench around him, trying your hardest not to scream.

Your faces were pressed against each other, he breathed in your laboured breaths.

“You’re milking me for everything I have,” he grunted.

You looked into each other’s eyes as he pulled out and ropes of his load landed on the hair covering your cunt.

He gave you a searing kiss, not bothering to hide the passion between you. He didn’t care if anyone saw him use his tongue in your mouth. It would tell others to stay away from you.

As your kisses slowed to something more romantic and peaceful, both of your attentions went to Caracalla, who was nearing his peak too.

“Mama,” he whined. “Mama, I’m so close.”

His head was in the breasts of the older woman, alternating between sucking her large nipples and motorboating his head between them. The woman stroked Caracalla’s hair all the while a feminine looking man took his cock in his mouth and down his throat.

Geta’s eyes only stayed on his brother for a moment before he went back to looking at you. He stroked his hands over your hair and admired you. He could not deny that his feelings had changed. Cupid had shot him with his arrow, and he was falling quickly. This was why Venus never made him get married earlier, much to his family’s dismay. You were more than a slave to him. More than all the women in Rome. He wanted to rule Rome with you, forever and always.

[aurynsia]

hey, i really love ur blog and writing so much. can i request number 3 with James Potter from your prompt list? maybe an enemies to lovers, not really enemies but maybe they just get on each other’s nerves every time? I’m sorry I am rambling but I hope I give you the idea cleary.

It’s Tradition

James Potter x Ravenclaw!Reader

Summary: James Potter always finds a way to make your blood boil, but a bit of homework and some magic reveals exactly why…

Prompt: “Who the hell hung mistletoe here!?"

Warnings: Grumpy!Reader x Sunshine!James, enemies to lovers, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you!!! I tried to stay true to the request but reader ended up being evidently far more short tempered than James ;-; This is for my Christmas event, which you can participate in here! I hope you like it <3

——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James Potter

Noun

Handsome captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, head boy of his house, infamous ladies man, full time flirt, and a total pain in your arse.

This was the boy that stood before you, grinning mischievously as he tilted over your table in the Transfiguration classroom.

“You’re good for a little bird, Ravenclaw, but you can’t beat me,” he remarked through his proud smile, “Minnie told me we tied for top of the class.”

“Bullshit, Potter!” You exclaimed in return, “I worked my ass off in this class while all you do is flirt with our classmates and get in my way.”

James frowned in faux offence, “Oi! I’m not just a pretty face you know.” You frowned back, though your expression was far more genuine than his. “Are too! You’re only tied with me because you charm our professor so much!” You pretended you didn’t just agree that he was a ‘pretty face’, holding your ground with arms crossed and frown immovable.

Soon McGonagall walked in and began the lesson, causing James to reluctantly walk back to his own desk. James had tormented you for the better part of a year now, rushing to answer questions in class with a cocky smirk and waving his high marks in your face, charming everyone around you while doing so.

At first he was sour towards you, turning his nose up at your clear intelligence and quick wit. But in more recent classes he began approaching you with a more teasing tactic, pushing your buttons directly in a way that felt almost flirtatious…if you squint.

“For the last week before winter break, you will be mastering the art of conjuration,” Professor McGonagall began, ”You will present an item to me by the end of the week - that you have conjured - and complete this task in pairs, which I shall assign. Now, seeing as we have a tie for first place, I believe this is the perfect opportunity to dismiss the lingering…tensions between our two brightest students.”

Oh, Merlin, no…you thought as your teacher continued, glancing over at James with a wince. “So, the first pair will be Potter and-“

——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Oh, sod off!”

“Godric, love, don’t get your panties in a twist!” James laughed as he stood by your table once again, watching you defeatedly pack your bag after class. “Knowing us, we’ll have that assignment finished in only a few hours.”

“It’s not the assignment I’m worried about, Potter,” you grumbled, refusing to meet his gaze. “Listen, gorgeous-“

“Don’t call me that.”

James took a step back. “Listen…all I’m trying to say is you won’t have to deal with me for long. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it,” he explained as you stood to leave.

“Just- come to Gryffindor tonight after dinner. We can get it done as soon as possible,” he spoke softly, appearing almost nervous as he pleaded with his puppy brown eyes.

“Fine,” you nodded, awkwardly shifting your feet as you faced him in the now empty classroom. “Brilliant! I’ll see you tonight,” he grinned, winking at you before leaving for his next class.

The day faded into night in the blink of an eye, hurdling you further towards your study date with James. You spent dinner groaning to your friends about how annoying the Gryffindor was, while James had an immovable grin plastered on his face.

“You know she’s required to spend time with you, right? It’s not like this is a date,” Remus said, raising a brow at James with eyes squinted in suspicion. “But that’s what’s so great about it, she’s forced to be in close proximity to me! I can work my magic, and by the end of the night she won’t hate me anymore!” James responded, eyes darting between the judging glares of Remus and Sirius across from him.

“Since when did you want to win her over? I thought you hated her back,” Sirius asked, mouth twisted in confusion and shock. “Well, I did…” James trailed off, “but I don’t want to end the year on bad terms, you know? She’s like, the one girl who doesn’t want me-“

“And that makes you want her?” Remus asked with a smirk, figuring out James’ motives before he even had a chance to confess. “Well…” James replied, grinning bashfully at his roommates with a slight blush.

“Oh, fuck off! You like her!” Sirius exclaimed a little too loudly, causing James’ eyes to widen and glance over to your position at the Ravenclaw table. You were still enthralled in your elaborate explanation of how James Potter was the worst person to ever live, unaware of the commotion from the Marauders.

“I- whatever…point is, I can finally make peace,” James whispered to his friends as if planning another prank on an unsuspecting Slytherin. “Just wait and see.”

——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“What’s your favourite colour?”

This was the seventh question James had asked you in the first hour of your study session.

He was leaning towards you on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, peering over your notes and occasionally giving you surprisingly helpful advice on the task, though mostly just bombarding you with childish conversation and teasing remarks.

“James…” you sighed, and he perked up at the sound of his first name coming out of your otherwise unwelcoming mouth. “Why do you care?” You questioned, a tinge of vulnerability lacing your words.

“Dunno, just asking,” James trailed off, looking for a way to avoid your interrogation. “You look cute when you’re frustrated,” he suddenly said, grinning at your furrowed brows.

“Merlin, James, would you stop that? I thought you couldn’t get anymore infuriating, constantly showing off in class just for praise- but this is even worse!” You exclaimed, standing up and brushing off your uniform.

“Just because you’re so popular doesn’t mean you can tease me like that- just because you think less of me. I have a good reputation too, you know?”

James was following your movements now, slowly standing from the couch as you paced the common room. “I mean, I get great grades, I’m head girl of Ravenclaw, and I don’t think I’m exactly ugly either! So why, in Godric’s name, do you feel the need to condescend me like this?”

You were puffing, attempting to regain the breath you just lost in your fury. You stared expectantly at James, who now stood opposite you at the base of the stairs, biting his lip as he thought of what to do.

His eyes darted around the room, seemingly searching for an answer, before focusing on something directly above you. You slowly raised your gaze to find what he seemed so fixed on, before you gasped at the sight.

Above your head hung a precious bunch of mistletoe, tied with ribbon and enchanted with dancing light that swirled around it in magical circles. Your eyes widened, bringing your gaze back to the boy in front of you, who was already staring in return.

Come on Potter, James thought, kiss her now. If you can’t tell her how you feel, then just bloody show her.

You groaned to break the awkward silence, rolling your eyes. “Who the hell hung mistletoe here!?" You began, “I swear, you Gryffindors-“

James’ lips captured yours in an instant, muffling your next words as he hovered his hands over your waist and screwed his eyes shut in relief. You stood wide eyed and confused, tensing under the ghost of his touch and causing him to pull away.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- it’s just…it’s tradition-“ James panted for breath in front of you, staring at you with a mix of guilt and infatuation.

You softened under his gaze, stepping forward to press your lips to his in return. He sighed at the contact, finally wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning into the kiss. You gently traced your fingers through his curls, tilting your head to deepen the sweet moment.

When your lips finally parted, James looked like a pathetic mess. His glasses were askew, hair tousled and cheeks flushed, gazing at you with lidded eyes and parted lips. “Godric, I fancy you,” he breathed, “too much for my own good…”

You stared at him intently, examining his eyes for any sign that this might be yet another prank. When you found nothing but genuine adoration in his gaze, you smiled softly back at him. “I suppose I fancy you too, James.”

“Moony! Come out here, quick!” A voice called from the top of the stairs, causing you to look up at an excited Sirius Black in shock.

“What? Why- Oh, Gods!” Remus exclaimed, staring at your figure caught in his roommate’s embrace, James’ hands still around your waist and chest pressed close to yours.

Sirius glanced up, noticing the mistletoe teasingly hanging from the ceiling. He slowly looked back down, smirking at the two of you once again.

“Your conjuration is getting better, Prongsie,” he remarked. James looked back at you with a guilty smile, causing you to gasp.

“POTTER!”

——————— ⋆𐂂˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[solxamber]

Hi! I've been thinking abt hanahaki lately, so I wanna see your thoughts on how OB boys handle hanahaki?

Idk I've feel like I've been thinking too much lately.

Overblot Gang x Reader (Hanahaki)

hi! thanks for the request <3

Riddle Rosehearts

Red roses are a traditional symbol of love and passion, but also perfectionism.

It started with a cough. Just a small, insignificant cough. But Riddle Rosehearts, ever the rule follower and disciplinarian, dismissed it as a minor inconvenience, despite the occasional stray petal that would land on his perfectly polished shoes. He didn’t dare look too closely at the flower. He knew the bloom too well—the telltale sign of unspoken love: red roses.

Riddle spent weeks trying to suppress the symptoms. He even scheduled extra tea sessions, convinced that a well-brewed Earl Grey would soothe his throat. But nothing worked. Every time he caught sight of you helping Ace with his homework or smiling brightly at Deuce, another rose would bloom in his chest, sending petals into his lungs until his coughing fits became more frequent.

One day, as you were organizing some papers in the Heartslabyul common room, you heard Riddle let out an uncharacteristically loud cough followed by the clinking of ceramic.

"Are you okay, Riddle?" you asked, peeking over your shoulder.

"I-I'm fine!" he spluttered, quickly shoving something into his pocket. His face was flushed, though whether it was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen was unclear. But as you moved closer, you noticed a bright red rose petal caught in his hair.

"You’ve got something in your hair—wait… is that a rose petal?" you asked, eyes widening in realization.

Riddle froze, his hand instinctively reaching up to where the petal had been. He sighed, clearly defeated. "I… may have developed a small case of hanahaki."

You raised an eyebrow. "Small? You’re practically growing a garden!"

Riddle’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. "W-Well, it’s because of you…"

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. "Wait. Me? You like me?"

Riddle looked down, nervously twiddling his fingers. "Yes. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. But I never had the courage to say anything."

You smiled softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Riddle, I like you too. You didn’t have to choke on roses to get my attention."

His eyes widened, and the redness of his face softened into something warmer—hopeful. "Really?"

"Really." You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Now, let’s work on getting rid of those flowers, shall we?"

Leona Kingscholar

Sunflowers represent adoration, loyalty, and longevity.

Leona Kingscholar thought he could out-stubborn his hanahaki. After all, he was the second prince of the Sunset Savanna. What were a few flowers compared to his iron will? But as soon as the bright yellow sunflowers began to sprout in his lungs, even he couldn’t ignore the constant tickle in his throat.

Every time you visited Savanaclaw to drop off some notes for Jack or just to say hi, Leona would immediately turn away, trying to suppress the blooming in his chest. He figured if he just kept avoiding you, the flowers would go away on their own. Spoiler alert: they didn’t.

One day, you found Leona lying under his favorite tree, seemingly asleep. Except for the fact that his face was slightly scrunched up, and he was… holding a bouquet of sunflowers?

"Leona, are you okay? Why are you holding a bunch of—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Leona sneezed, sending a spray of sunflower petals flying everywhere.

"Seriously?" you said, crossing your arms. "You’re allergic to flowers now?"

Leona groaned, sitting up and glaring at the petals scattered around him. "It’s not allergies, herbivore."

"Oh. Ohhhh. This is hanahaki, isn’t it?"

Leona’s ears flattened against his head, his tail flicking irritably. "Tch. Yeah, whatever. So I’ve got hanahaki. Big deal."

You smirked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "So, who’s the lucky person that’s got you coughing up sunflowers?"

He shot you a look that could melt steel. "Don’t make me say it."

"Say what?" you teased, grinning. "That you have a crush on me?"

Leona’s lips curled into a frustrated snarl, but he didn’t deny it. You, however, found it oddly endearing. You sat down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. "You know, if you just said something sooner, you wouldn’t have to deal with all this floral drama."

Leona sighed, finally letting his pride crumble. "Yeah, well… I guess I didn’t think you’d actually like me back."

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. "Looks like you were wrong, prince."

Azul Ashengrotto

Forget-me-nots symbolize true love, remembrance, and the desire to be unforgettable.

Azul thought he could handle it. After all, he was a master of contracts, deals, and manipulation. Surely he could manage a little thing like hanahaki, right? Wrong. The moment forget-me-nots began flooding his lungs, he knew he was in trouble.

He had tried everything. Eating seaweed soup, drinking warm tea, even avoiding you for a while. But every time you walked into the Monstro Lounge with that infectious smile, another batch of petals threatened to spill from his lips.

One day, you walked into the VIP room only to find Azul coughing into a napkin, looking suspiciously flustered.

"Azul, are you okay? You sound awful."

"I’m fine," he said, though his voice was hoarse. You noticed the blue petal sticking to the corner of his mouth, and your eyes widened.

"Wait… are you coughing up flowers? Is that… hanahaki?"

Azul stiffened, quickly stuffing the napkin into his pocket. "I… I don’t know what you’re talking about."

You raised an eyebrow. "Azul, I know a petal when I see one. Is there something you want to tell me?"

He looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I… may have developed feelings for someone," he muttered, his face turning a shade that almost matched the hydrangeas.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. "Really? And who might that be?"

Azul hesitated, his confidence wavering for the first time in a long while. "It’s… you."

Your smile widened as you leaned forward, gently brushing a petal from his cheek. "You could have just told me, you know. I like you too, Azul."

Azul blinked, clearly caught off guard by your confession. "You… do?"

"Of course I do," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Now, let’s work on getting rid of those flowers before you drown in petals, okay?"

Jamil Viper

White gardenias represent purity, humility, and attachment.

Jamil had always prided himself on his self-control. But when white gardenias started blossoming in his chest, that control was tested like never before. It didn’t help that every time you walked into Scarabia with that bright, infectious energy, another flower seemed to bloom.

Jamil tried to avoid you as much as possible, focusing on his duties as Kalim's right-hand man. But one day, while preparing tea in the kitchen, you walked in unexpectedly, catching him mid-cough as a cluster of white petals floated to the ground.

"Jamil, are you okay?" you asked, moving closer. "You’ve been coughing a lot lately."

"I’m fine," he said quickly, wiping away the evidence. But it was too late—you had already noticed the petals.

"Jamil… are those gardenias?" you asked, eyes widening.

Jamil froze, realizing there was no way to hide it now. "I… yes," he admitted reluctantly.

You tilted your head, confused. "Wait… who do you have a crush on?"

Jamil looked away, his face flushed with embarrassment. "It’s… you."

You blinked, completely caught off guard. "Me?"

He nodded, clearly mortified. "I’ve been trying to keep it under control, but…"

You laughed softly, stepping closer and gently touching his arm. "You could’ve just told me, you know. I like you too, Jamil."

Jamil’s eyes widened, a look of pure relief washing over his face. "You… do?"

"Of course," you said, smiling warmly. "Now, let’s get rid of those flowers, okay?"

Vil Schoenheit

Purple lilacs signify the first emotions of love and pride.

Vil Schoenheit, perfection incarnate, found himself undone by the one thing he couldn't control: love. The moment purple lilacs started blooming in his chest, he knew he was in trouble. But, ever the professional, Vil tried to maintain his composure, even as the flowers threatened to spill from his lips every time you were near.

He spent weeks trying to cover it up, using his beauty products and makeup to hide the occasional petal that escaped. But one day, while rehearsing a scene with you in the Pomefiore dorm, he let out a cough that sent a cascade of purple petals fluttering to the ground.

"Vil?" you asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Vil sighed, knowing he couldn’t hide it anymore. "I’ve developed a… condition."

"Condition?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You mean hanahaki?"

He nodded, his usual confidence faltering. "Yes. And it’s because of you."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"

Vil looked away, his voice softening as his usual poised demeanor faltered. "Yes, it’s because of you. The lilacs—" He gestured at the fallen petals, a touch of frustration and vulnerability in his eyes. "—are a sign of feelings I’ve been suppressing. I thought I could control them, but apparently, even I am not immune to such trivial things as unspoken love."

You blinked, utterly stunned. "Vil, you mean… you like me?"

His gaze met yours, golden and intense, and for once, Vil didn’t hide behind his mask of perfection. "Of course I do. You have this… light about you that pulls me in, even though I know I should stay composed. I’ve tried to ignore it, to keep things professional, but—" He coughed again, more petals spilling out. "Clearly, it didn’t work."

You couldn’t help but smile softly. "Vil, you don’t have to hide how you feel. I like you too."

His eyes widened, the surprise evident on his usually composed face. "You… do?"

You nodded, stepping closer. "You’ve always had this aura of untouchable beauty, but I’ve always admired more than just your looks. You’re passionate, driven, and underneath it all, incredibly kind. How could I not fall for you?"

Vil’s lips quirked into a small, relieved smile, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You certainly have a way with words. Thank you… for not making me feel foolish."

You smiled back and took his hand gently. "There’s nothing foolish about love, Vil. Let’s work on getting rid of these flowers, okay?"

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Vil felt truly at peace. The lilacs could bloom no more, now that his heart was finally unburdened.

Idia Shroud

Black daisies are a symbol of mystery, depth, and the unknown, often associated with secrecy and unspoken feelings.

Idia had always assumed he’d die alone, surrounded by his beloved games and tech, without the messiness of real-life emotions. But life, it seemed, had other plans, and those plans came in the form of black daisies—thick and suffocating, crawling up his throat every time he saw you.

For someone who preferred the solitude of his room, the thought of interacting with you was terrifying enough, but dealing with hanahaki? That was a nightmare. So, Idia did what he did best—he avoided you like the plague.

Unfortunately, his plan backfired one day when you burst into his room unannounced, holding a takeout bag and cheerfully asking if he wanted to eat lunch together. Idia spun around in his chair, trying to hide the fact that his hoodie pocket was stuffed full of crumpled napkins—each one littered with black daisy petals.

"S-Sure! I’d love to!" he stammered, though his voice cracked slightly. You gave him a strange look, noticing the sweat beading on his forehead.

"You okay, Idia? You’ve been acting really weird lately."

Before he could reply, he let out a loud cough, sending a flurry of black daisy petals across his desk. Idia froze, his eyes widening in horror.

"Oh no," he whispered under his breath. "No, no, no, not now…"

You stared at the petals, then at him. "Wait a second… is this… hanahaki?"

Idia turned about fifteen shades of red. "N-N-NO! I mean, y-yes, but…"

"But?" you pressed, stepping closer. "Who gave you hanahaki, Idia?"

He buried his face in his hands, mortified beyond belief. "Y-You! It’s because of you! I know it’s impossible and I’m an idiot for even thinking about it, but I—"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on!" you interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You like me?"

Idia peeked through his fingers, his hair flaring blue in embarrassment. "Y-Yes…?"

You chuckled softly, finding his awkwardness endearing. "Idia, you don’t have to be so nervous. I like you too."

He blinked, processing your words as if they didn’t compute. "Wait… what? Y-You do?"

You nodded, smiling at him. "Yeah, I think you’re really sweet. And your nerdy side is kind of adorable."

Idia’s face went from pale to bright pink in record time, his hair turning a neon shade of pink. "I-I think I’m gonna die."

You laughed, handing him a napkin. "How about we avoid that, okay?"

Malleus Draconia

Nightshade flowers represent danger, mystery, and passionate, dangerous love but also healing and protection.

Malleus wasn’t particularly bothered by the concept of hanahaki. After all, he was a powerful fae prince, one who had lived for centuries. But when the dark, velvety petals of nightshade began to fill his lungs every time he thought about you, he knew that even he wasn’t immune to the whims of the heart.

At first, he tried to rationalize it. He would stare at the nightshade petals, wondering if his fae biology was reacting to something. But deep down, he knew the truth. He had fallen for you—hard. And while Malleus wasn’t one to shy away from emotions, he hadn’t quite figured out how to express them yet.

One evening, you found him sitting in the courtyard of Diasomnia, looking unusually thoughtful. As you approached, he turned to greet you with a smile, but his voice was interrupted by a soft cough.

"Are you alright, Malleus?" you asked, concerned. "You’ve been coughing a lot lately."

He hesitated, clearly debating whether or not to tell you the truth. Then, with a soft sigh, he opened his hand to reveal a single, dark nightshade petal.

You blinked in surprise. "Wait… is that hanahaki?"

Malleus nodded slowly, his expression serious. "It is."

Your heart skipped a beat. "So… who’s the lucky person?"

He gazed at you, his eyes filled with an unspoken depth of emotion. "It’s you," he said simply.

You stared at him, stunned. "M-Me?"

Malleus nodded, his voice as gentle as the breeze. "I have cared for you for quite some time, but I did not wish to burden you with my feelings."

You felt your cheeks heat up as you stepped closer to him. "Malleus, I… I care about you too."

His eyes lit up with surprise, as if he hadn’t expected your confession. "You do?"

You nodded, smiling warmly. "I do. I didn’t realize you felt the same way."

Malleus smiled, the nightshade petals slowly fading from his chest. "Then perhaps we can face this together."

You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his magic flow through your fingers. "I’d like that."

Masterlist

[covenofagatha]

My Fair Lady

You finally convince your girlfriend, Agatha, to attend the annual Westview fair with you and things end up leading to a roll in the hay(ride), non-magic AU

Word count: ~3000

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, mommy kink

It’s a beautiful day in Westview when the annual fair takes place, an autumn breeze chilling the air and the smell of pumpkins and cinnamon hanging over. It’s your favorite event of the year: hayrides, pumpkin carvings, face painting stations, bobbing for apples, and even more. The fair is always two weeks before Halloween and everyone in the town turns up.

Which is exactly what you told your girlfriend,  Agatha, to try to get her to go with you. She had never attended one, even though she had lived in Westview for almost ten years, and you were determined to get her to come this year. When you had first mentioned it, she slumped lower into the couch, lips tight. The older woman could be such a drama queen sometimes. She’d love to go, she insisted, but she would be forced to see all the people in the town she didn’t like and that was not a fun way to spend a weekend, when instead, she could spend it with you in bed. She had then pulled you onto her lap and fucked you so well you forgot about the matter entirely for a few days. 

The next time you asked, she was cooking dinner for the two of you. She had rolled her eyes fondly and said she would think about it and then changed the subject, never bothering to stop cutting vegetables.

But finally, as they say, third time’s the charm. You realized where you went wrong the other times: you were just asking the question in the wrong way. You had her sprawled on her back on the couch, tongue drawing circles around her clit. Her hand was tangled in your hair, silently urging you on as whimpers fell from her mouth. “That’s it, baby girl,” she praised in a low voice. “Make mommy come.” But then you had pulled away and said you wouldn’t unless she promised to come to the fair with you. She grunted and then hastily agreed; she would’ve promised you anything if it would get your pretty mouth back on her. 

And a promise is a promise. The day of the fair finally arrives, and you head downstairs after dressing in a plaid skirt and a striped sweater. Agatha is already down there, fiddling with her keys. Your breath catches; she looks so hot. She’s wearing a white turtleneck under a brown blazer and gray pants that make her ass look great. Her long hair is wavy and tumbles loosely down her back. You almost wish you hadn’t pushed so hard to go to the fair, seeing her dressed like that. It is already mid-afternoon though, so you’ll only be at the fair for a few hours. And then she can take you home and–

She raises an eyebrow at you, smirking as if she can hear your thoughts. “Shall we, sweetheart?” 

“Yes!” You say enthusiastically, pushing your dirty thoughts out of your head. 

The drive to the fairgrounds is quiet, Agatha tracing patterns on your leg with one hand while her other hand is on the wheel. “You really like this thing, don’t you?” 

It takes you a moment before you realize that she’s talking about the fair and you nod. “I’ve gone every year since I’ve lived here. I think you’ll love it too, Aggs. I’m dying to take you to my favorite ice cream stand. And there’s face painting – you should get yours painted!” She tosses a glare your way and you giggle. “Bobbing for apples, hayrides, oh, and a kissing booth.” The last part comes out teasingly, just to see how she’ll react. 

Her grip tightens on your thigh, squeezing an involuntary moan out of your mouth. “You better not even look in that direction.” 

“How could I, when I have my very own kissing booth right here,” you say, voice sugary sweet, but she grimaces at how cheesy it is. You laugh and lean over to peck her cheek, delighting in the way the corners of her mouth perk up. 

“Well,” she says, effortlessly parallel parking once you arrive. Hot. “Where to first, my dear?” 

You chew on your lip thoughtfully and then an idea lights up in your head. “Petting zoo!” You all but drag her by the hand. 

The petting zoo has some of the cutest animals you’ve ever seen: little lambs, chicks, and a tiny horse. You coo at the tiny horse and even see Agatha reach out to pet it. You’re smiling like a dope at her when she finally turns to look at you. 

“What?” She asks. 

“Nothing,” you say. “You’re just really cute with small animals.” 

She scoffs and tosses her hair over her shoulder dramatically. “I’m always cute,” she corrects you and you snort. 

You interlock your fingers with hers and pull her to the next station, a corn maze. You have a terrible sense of direction, something not lost on Agatha as she playfully asks you which way to go everytime you come to a fork. Each time, you hold up a finger and close your eyes, pretending to be listening to the wind. Agatha watches you with a smirk, nodding intently when you open your eyes and make up some story about what the spirits told you. You then pick a direction completely at random. 

It’s over thirty minutes later when you both realize you are not getting any closer to the center and maybe Agatha should try picking which way to go. And of course, it’s five minutes and four confident turns later when you reach the statue in the middle. 

“Well, I was the one who got us so close,” you say amidst her laughing. “And then you had the easy part.” 

She stops chuckling and grabs your hips, pulling you against her. “That’s exactly what happened, baby. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Her lips brush against yours and you part your mouth so you can kiss her properly. 

It’s a soft, tender kiss and your heart fills with so much love for the older woman. You pull back just a little and lean your forehead on hers. She’s a few inches taller than you so you have to stand on your tip-toes. “Are you having fun?” You’re a little insecure that Agatha still doesn’t want to be here and she’s only pretending for your sake. If she says no, you won’t hesitate before saying the two of you can leave.

But she cups your cheek and warmly looks into your eyes. “I am, sweetheart. Thank you for making me come.” 

You smile wickedly, not being able to resist. “Oh it’s my pleasure. I love making you come.” The innuendo is not lost on her and she drags you into a much more heated kiss. She nips at your bottom lip and you whine, arms moving around her neck to try to get her closer. Her lips trail down and to your neck, softly sucking. “Agatha,” you gasp, tangling your hands in her hair. 

And then the sound of children laughing forces you apart just in time for two little boys to come running through the clearing, barely sparing you two a glance. 

“This is why I hate children,” Agatha sighs. “Let’s get out of here. Do you remember how we got here?” 

You don’t even respond, just opting to give her a pointed look. You both know you don’t. She smirks and starts walking down the path on the east. You scramble to keep up, not wanting to get separated from her. You know she’d never let it go if you got lost and the fair had to send in a search and rescue team to find you. Agatha barely breaks her stride and about ten turns later, you’re standing out front of the maze. 

You gape at her. “How did you–” She cuts you off by pointing to the sign next to the entrance, a sign with a map of the maze. Your jaw drops even more. “You knew where to go the entire time and you still let me bumble around and take every wrong turn?” 

She shrugs innocently. “What can I say, darling? You’re just really cute when you’re giving me the wrong directions.” She bops your nose, which you scrunch up at her. “Where to next?” 

You scan your surroundings. The line at your favorite ice cream stand is short so you make a beeline for it, Agatha following quickly behind. Dottie’s Famous Soft Serve Ice Cream. 

“The lime is my favorite,” you whisper to Agatha once you’ve gotten in line. “But the vanilla and orange swirl is also pretty good.” 

She considers the list of flavors thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go with the lime.” You smile, unable to help yourself. 

The line goes quickly and the two of you are soon at the front. “Two limes in a waffle cone, please,” you say to Dottie, who immediately recognizes you. You frequent her store several times a month, always getting the same thing. 

“Y/n! So nice of you to stop by,” she says, grabbing two cones. 

“You know me, Dottie. Gotta have my lime ice cream. And I’m trying to corrupt this one.” You nod to Agatha and Dottie chuckles, turning back around with your ice cream. 

“Here you go,” she says, handing them to you. “That’ll be six dollars.” Agatha pulls out a ten from her wallet and puts it on the counter. “Thank you!” 

You hand your girlfriend one of the cones and lead her to sit on a bench away from all the people. You softly groan the minute the lime ice cream hits your tongue. Even after having it so many times, it never fails to disappoint.  You glance at Agatha, who’s watching you with a certain look in her eyes. “Have you tried it yet?” 

She nods. “It’s really good, sweetheart. I knew you wouldn’t lead me astray.” 

“Unlike corn mazes, I do actually know my way around ice cream,” you retort and you both laugh. A comfortable silence settles over you as you lazily work at your ice cream while watching the people walk by. 

You suddenly hear Agatha sharply inhale and you look over with concern. She’s watching you, half her cone already eaten. You can now make out the look in her eyes – desire. “Stop teasing, pet,” she growls, pupils blown wide. 

A thrill runs through you. You hadn’t even been trying to, but you clearly had done something. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently, this time licking a deliberate stripe up the center of your ice cream, never breaking eye contact. 

Her tongue pushes into the inside of her cheek. “Finish up quickly,” she says, her raspy voice doing things to your insides. You rarely get to see her this desperate for you and you wish she’d show this side of her more often. Almost every day, she turns you into a whimpering mess for her, while she’s usually much more composed, even when she lets you take control. 

“Yeah?” You whisper. Her dark eyes dart down to your lips and then back up. 

“Yeah, baby girl. Be a good girl for mommy.” The pet names ignite a fire in your belly. You wolf down the rest of your ice cream, as does she, and then she’s tugging you back to the parking lot. 

“Wait, Agatha,” you say, coming to halt. She looks back at you. “We can’t leave without going on the hayride. It takes you around all the spooky parts of town.” 

She swallows hard. “You really want to?” Part of you wants to just say fuck it and go home with her right now, but the hay ride is always your favorite part of the fair. And you want to share that with her. 

“Yes. I’m sorry.” To her credit, she does a good job covering up her disappointment if she feels any. 

She squeezes your hand. “Don’t be. I can wait a little longer before taking you home and ruining you.” You let out a small gasp, images of her words flitting through your mind. 

“You know, the fair will be here next year,” you say, suddenly ready to call it a night. You can feel how flushed your cheeks have become.

“Oh, no, darling. You are taking me on this hayride,” Agatha insists, smirking. You grumble, secretly a little glad deep down, and walk her over to where the wagons are parked. There’s no one else in line. It’s starting to get dark and a little chilly, so you figure some people might be leaving early. 

“Just the two of you?” a man says and you nod. He holds out a hand and helps you and Agatha step into the back of the wagon. “Here’s some blankets if you need them.” He tosses two fuzzy green blankets at you, hay sticking to them. 

You smile gratefully and throw it over your cold legs. You should’ve worn pants. Agatha wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer as well so you can absorb some of her body heat. The man gets in the tractor attached to the wagon and starts loudly talking as he pulls out of the spot. He’s saying something about the history of Westview when you’re distracted by Agatha putting her hand that’s not around you on your thigh under the blanket. 

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye and you see her already watching you, a wicked grin on her face. “Pay attention,” she whispers, nodding to the back of the man. Luckily, he can’t see you and no one else is in the wagon with the two of you. 

At first, she doesn’t do much, just slowly strokes your thigh with her fingertips. But it’s enough to make the heat in your stomach fire back up. You really try to hone into the hayride tour, but the smell of Agatha and her hot breath on your neck makes it hard. Not to mention her fingers now starting to creep up under your skirt. 

“Agatha,” you breathe. 

“Yes, baby?” she says innocently, like she hasn’t just cupped you over your underwear. Her fingertips are light as they press down. Your hips jump and Agatha’s eyes flash. “Gotta be careful,” she murmurs in your ears. “Or I’ll stop. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” 

You furiously shake your head and bite down on your lip preemptively. She smiles and pushes your underwear to the side, sliding through your folds. Thankfully, the wagon is passing through an area of the town that is quiet and dark, so you really only have to worry about the driver catching you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” Agatha says hotly into your ear. “Does the thought of someone seeing you like this turn you on?” 

“No,” you protest, cheeks burning. 

She pushes a finger into you and your walls clench down immediately. “Are you sure?” she drawls. You take a sharp breath when she moves ever so slightly. “I think you like it. The thrill. The danger. Knowing if anyone looked too closely they’d see what a good slut you are for me.” 

You have to sink your teeth into your hand so you don’t let out a pornographic moan. Agatha chuckles. 

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” she whispers, thumb rubbing your clit just the right way. 

“Mm, mommy, please,” you gasp into her ear. The angle at which her finger is thrusting inside you is awkward at best, but somehow she’s making it work for you. You’d be embarrassed at how close to cumming you are if it wasn’t Agatha, who could probably make you cum if she looked at you hard enough. 

“Good girl, cum for mommy.” She twists the finger inside you and roughly strokes your clit and it sends you over the edge. She gives you a few moments to come down from your high before sliding her hand out from under your skirt. She sucks her wet finger into her mouth and her eyes flash. “That ice cream was good, honey, but it’s got nothing on you.” 

You feel your cunt pulse again, and based on her face, she knows. 

“It’s almost too easy,” she jokes with a grin.

“And here we are, back to where we started,” the man driving the tractor announces, pulling back into the lot where he had been parked. You let out a sigh of release at the perfect timing. He walks around and helps the two of you step out, you not missing the 20 dollar bill Agatha slips into his shirt pocket. 

“That was the best hayride I’ve ever been on,” she gushes and winks at you. You blush and find sudden interest in your feet, not able to meet the man’s eyes. 

“Glad to hear it!” he says happily, apparently missing everything. You give him a tight smile and quickly drag Agatha away. It’s much darker now and the majority of the people have cleared out of the fairgrounds. 

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” you ask. 

“The fair, or fucking you in the back of a wagon?” You give her a look and she smirks. She pauses walking to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you into a hug. “I had a lovely time, darling. I love you.” 

You smile into her neck. “I love you, too.” You break the hug to give her a wicked look. “Now, you said something about me teasing you earlier? What are you going to do about that?”

The same wickedness glints in her eyes. “Let’s go find out. I can assure you it involves putting that tongue to better use than licking Dottie's famous lime ice cream.” 

She all but shoves you into the car, heat igniting your insides, desire for the older woman racing through you. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: You couldn't believe your misfortune. Once more, you found yourself tethered to Sylus, stuck in a closet with no choice but to stay hidden so you both wouldn't be discovered. But this time around, it seems Sylus has every intention of making sure you have a hard time remaining quiet enough not to be caught. Character: Sylus (Love & Deepspace) Word Count: 2.1k Contains: Sylus x Fem!Reader. SMUT. Forced proximity, penetrative sex, semi-public sex (kinda?), trying not to get caught, dirty talk, praise, degradation, Sylus being Sylus.

Authour's Note: So I just realized it's been almost an entire month since I've published an actual fic, 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖕 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖕. Hi y'all thanks for sticking around and being patient with me! Between kinktober prepping and working on my matchup event (thanks for being patient I'm getting those out asap) I've been SWAMPED. This is based off the "Immobilized" memory, I couldn't stop thinking about this ever since I pulled it so here we are.. This is my first Love & Deepspace fic, so please be gentle with me, if there's anything I can improve please let me know! I just started playing and I'm already hooked (its so bad save me). Anyways I hope you enjoy!

The enclosed space in the closet is cramped, you and Sylus were chest to chest, both trying to remain quiet as to not be caught. You couldn’t believe you had been so foolish as to forget another one of your belongings in this room. The bond around your wrists still tethering you together, he smirked, a glint in his vermillion eyes as he leaned down. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, you could feel his hot breath caress the sensitive skin as he speaks. “Careful, kitten, or I’m going to get the wrong idea and think you like being stuck in a cramped space with me.” He teases, that infuriating grin never leaving his lips. You reach your free hand over, shoving him harshly, which only serves to make him chuckle.

You peek through the slots in the closet door, the roommate you had for this event was just sitting down at the vanity in the room to get started on her hair and makeup. You exhaled, careful not to do so too loudly to alert her to the fact you were currently tethered to the leader of Onychinus. The mischievous glint in Sylus’ eye was impossible to ignore. He stood to full height, in two strides in the cramped space, he had your back pressed against the wall. His head ducking to the crook of your neck, his breaths fanning across your skin had your heart racing and breaths coming in unevenly. “What are you doing?” You whisper harshly to him, though your words are hardly threatening due to the way your voice shook from having him so close.

The only response you get is a soft ‘shh’ sound coming from his lips before his lips attach themselves to your neck. His mouth begins to leave open-mouthed kisses up the expanse of your neck, not stopping until his lips reach the shell of your ear. “Seems like we’ll be trapped here for a while, sweetie.” His whisper comes in between rasping breaths to your ear. 

“Let’s see how quiet you can be while we ‘pass the time’, shall we?” His sentence was punctuated with a playful nip to the skin of your neck. His large hand grabbing the back of your thigh to wrap one leg around his hip. Any words you could attempt to formulate would be cut off by the following kiss he presses against your lips. The tension between you two over the last few weeks could be cut with a knife and Sylus couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to have you. He was a man who seized opportunity, and he saw this as the perfect one to make you his.

You can’t help but melt into the kiss. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you never wondered what kissing Sylus would be like, as frustrated as it made you, you couldn’t help but think of him often. The striking red of his eyes, his broad shoulders, that deep rasp that his voice held making every word he spoke go straight to your- Your trailing thoughts were interrupted by a gasp, feeling him roll his hips into yours, feeling just how much the kiss was effecting him against your center. He pulls from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips for a moment before it snaps. Looking up you meet those vermillion orbs, he lifts a sculpted eyebrow, smirk returning to his features. 

“Someone seems distracted. Something on your mind, sweetie?” His words are hushed as to not draw attention to the third party just outside the closet door. Suddenly your current predicament comes rushing back, alarm bells ringing in your head. “We shouldn’t, what if we get caught?” You look up at him, eyes laced with panic, to which he only chuckles under his breath. 

“Well, then I guess you’ll just have to be quiet then won't you, kitten?” He cuts you off once more with his lips, his tongue slipping past your parted lips with ease. His hand slipping up the smooth skin of your thigh, well past the fabric of your skirt. He relishes the sweet whimper he receives when the pads of his fingers come into contact with the damp fabric of your panties. His next words coming murmured against your lips. “But of course we can always stop if that’s what you want.” He goes to pull from you, grinning when your lips chase his as he attempts to separate. 

“Though if we’re going by the state of your panties, darling, I’d say you want this as much as I do.” He coos, pushing the fabric to the side. He tsks as he collects your wetness on the pads of his fingers, using it as aid to glide his fingers against the sensitive nub of your clit. “So wet, is this all for me, little bird?”

Your fingers grip the fabric of his sweater, so lost in the feeling of him you don’t notice the bind connecting your wrists had vanished. His fingers begin rubbing lazy circles against your sensitive spot, lips returning to your neck. “I couldn’t hear you, kitten, who made you this wet?” He grins as you grip him harder, nails pinching his skin through the fabric. Your words are unsteady and hushed, trying your best to remain concealed. 

“Yes, Sylus, I’m this wet for you.” His grin is palpable, guiding his fingers to your entrance. Rewarding your compliance with a finger sliding past the velvety walls of your cunt. “That’s my girl.” Without hesitation, he slips a second finger inside you, groaning lowly at how your walls contracted around his fingers. Just feeling how tight you were has his eyes rolling back in his head. He works you over with his fingers, digits scissoring inside you to offer some preparation of what's to come. He works you over on his fingers, pumping them in and out of your tight heat. 

“I don’t know, baby, I think if anything’s gonna get us caught, I think it just might be this cute little cunt.” He chuckles softly as you slap his shoulder in protest. “It’s not my fault she’s being so vocal for me, do you hear her?”

His words have heat rising to your cheeks as he speaks. He curls his digits, pads of his fingers expertly hit the spongy spot within your walls that has your eyes seeing while. Bundling his shirt in your fists, lunging forward to sink your teeth into the skin of his neck to muffle your moans as you shake against him. Walls spasming around his fingers as you come undone on his fingers. He hisses upon the impact of your bite but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. He barely allows you time to recuperate, maintaining eye contact as he slips his fingers from your cunt and past his lips, tasting you on his digits and groaning low in his throat. 

“Absolutely delicious sweetie.” He purrs, lifting your thighs to wrap around his waist. Supporting your weight with one hand that grips the plush skin of your ass. In one swift movement, he has his pants unzipped, pulling his hardened member from his boxers. Hand holding the base to position himself at your entrance. “Need to hear you, kitten. Tell me how much you want me inside you.”

Your eyes look up into his own, holding onto him as you're pressed between him and the wall. Chewing on your bottom lip, whimpering as he uses your slick as leverage to tease your clit with the mushroom tip of his cock. Unable to take his teasing any longer, you comply, not recognizing your own voice from the need lacing your tone. “Please, Sylus, I need you. Need you to fill me up with your cock, want to feel you splitting me open, please.” 

Your words send a shiver up his spine, wishing only that he could hear you whisper to him so sweetly on repeat. “Now how could I deny my little bird when she begs me so sweetly?” He grins slipping past the tight ring of your entrance, silencing your sounds with his mouth. Tongues and teeth clashing from the intensity of the kiss both of you being consumed by your need for one another. He spurs on, continuing to sink inch by inch before bottoming out. He lets out a shaky breath against your lips, pulling away just far enough to check that you were okay. The half-lidded expression you send him has his cock throbbing, your eyes begging him to move. The both of you catch the sound of the door shutting outside the closet door, the tell tale sign that you both no longer needed to be quiet. “Fuck, finally, need to hear you kitten. Don’t you dare fucking muffle a single sound, you hear me?” He groans into the skin of your neck.

His hips start to move, setting a brutal pace from the start. Every moan, whimper, and call of his name that slips past your lips goes straight to his cock. The sounds only spurred him to continue slamming his cock against your gummy walls. Leaning forward as he began rolling his hips against your own, pressing another desperate kiss against your lips. He pulls from you after a moment, using his thumb and finger to open your mouth and spitting directly between your now-parted lips. Watching with hunger as he watches your throat contract as you swallow.  

“Gods kitten, so goddamn pretty.” He grunted out throwing his head back, his hands coming to the backs of your thighs, using them as anchors to pull you down on his cock. The feeling has a deep groan slipping past his lips, his eyes rolling back in his head from the intense pleasure. “Fuck sweetie, so fucking tight. Gonna have you molded to my shape by the time I’m done with you.”

His words have you shivering, eyes hazy with pleasured tears glassing over your vision. Feeling your end approaching, needing desperately for him to push you both over the ledge. “Please Sylus, fuck me harder. Fuck, please, Sy can't take it, please.” Your words ignite a fire in him, hand coming to the small of your back pushing you down just a bit further angling your hips for a better angle. 

“Oh? is that really what you want kitten? Want me to breed this pretty little pussy? Have you walk out of here and back to base with my cum dripping down your thighs? Want me to fuck you harder, is that so?” he questions, a satisfied grin on his face, but unable to deny the effect your words had on him. “Well your wish is my command, sweetie, begging me so prettily. Oh so proud of you, that’s my girl.” He grips your hips, slamming them against your own the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room. “Fuck daddy, please, fuck please” You beg, hearing the pathetic need in your own voice. Your eyes roll back, hearing your own wetness now, coil inside tightening at a rapid rate aching to snap.

Sylus felt his own coil reaching its end. He knew that it was bound to break and crumble, much faster than it usually did from the sheer tightness of your gummy walls. Whimpers started falling from his mouth as he heard your calling to him begging for your own sweet release. His thrusts became sloppy, desperate, as he urged you both to tumble over the edge. 

“Go on kitten, give it to me, you can let go.” He whispered in your ear, making sure that you released before he finished the chase for his own high. Reaching between your legs rubbing your clit in small tight circles, feeling you tighten around him as he shivered a bit. Your cries and begs were like music to his ears. Unable to help it, your hips rolling against the attention to your clit. Hand gripping him by the back of his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, moans spilling into his mouth. One last harsh thrust has your coil snapping, crying into his mouth as your walls clamp down on his cock. Sylus groaned, biting down on your shoulder, sure he would leave a mark in his wake. Falling over the edge himself. A low groan and a cry of your name falling from his lips. His hips slowed as he allowed you both to come down from your highs, holding you close to him. Pressing his forehead against your own as he stilled his hips. 

“So beautiful sweetie, did so fucking good for me. Let's get you home, kitten. Get you nice and cleaned up where you can rest.” Sylus never imagined this being the situation where you both would find yourselves in each other’s arms. But he would be the last to complain, so long as he was finally able to call you his, he couldn’t ask for more.

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @adornedwithlight. Writing & character banners by me. Special thanks to @staraxiaa & @ambiguouslady42 for beta reading for me you guys are the best! Tagging: @pixelcafe-network