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riri-twix · 3 days

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Can We Become We?

Chapter 2: Just an Arrangement

Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.

The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?

She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter

You can also read it on ao3 here

Satoru was leaning back onto the couch, a foot over his knee, and an arm slung around the back. He looked relaxed on the outside, but on the inside, there was a knot in his stomach, only growing tighter by the second.

His expression is blank, turning his head left, then right, then left again, as he follows his father. The man has been pacing back and forth in the living room with quick, determined steps for the past five minutes. It was almost like being caught up in a tennis match, Satoru thought.

“Twenty minutes!” His father grits out, his voice rising in pitch as he struggles to keep his anger under control. “They said they’d arrive in twenty minutes!”

And it’s only been twenty-one. Satoru rolls his eyes and sinks further into the couch. His dad was always on a rush in every situation, always trying to control everything and everyone in his life.

This is just a dinner, for crying out loud. Satoru throws his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his father's bitching about everything. He needs learn how to relax.

“You should stop stressing, baby.” Came the voice of his mother. He was almost certain that she didn’t even look up from her phone as she said that. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Oh?” There was a smirk to his father’s tone. “Then what is?”

“Hmm?” Okay, now his mother definitely put down her phone. “I have a few ideas. Maybe… I can try them out…”

Eww. If Satoru could roll his eyes while they were closed, he would’ve done it a million times. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a loud gag, taking the liberty to even stick his tongue out for better efficiency. An opportunity to piss off his parents? He’ll take it.

“Satoru.” He could almost feel the glare his father sent his way.

“Yes?” A smirk plays on his lips, satisfied that he was able to get on his father’s nerves. “You know, you could just get a room. Then you won’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

Before his father could throw a shoe or the closest object at Satoru’s head, a number of footsteps walks into the room.

“Sir.” Satoru’s eyes peel open when he hears the smooth, even voice of their butler addressing his father. “The Geto family is here.”

Satoru feels his body freeze, a wave of uneasiness washes over him, churning over and over in his stomach as the retreating footsteps of the butler fade away. The steady beating of his heart grows louder in his ears.

The whole point of this gathering was for him and his… fiancés? To meet before tomorrow’s public wedding. He knew that. So why was he feeling so nervous? He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the more he tries to focus on his breathing, the more he feels the tension rising inside of him.

“You must be Suguru.” The words come out of his father's mouth like clockwork, a well-rehearsed tone that Satoru has heard so many times before. Used for formalities, always accompanied with a jarring, toothy smile. Fake as shit.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.”

Satoru can’t, and for the most part, doesn’t, stop himself from lifting his head the moment that soft voice fills his ears. His eyes automatically land on Suguru, who had his head bowed politely at his father, before straightening up again, a friendly smile on his face.

His face immediately contorts in distaste. Because what the hell’s up with those bangs? And also because he doesn’t know what else to do. He exhales a scoff through his nose and throws his head back again, silently hoping that no one noticed the way his face grew hot.

He didn’t want to look at him anyway. And he definitely did not, in any way, want to look at the way Suguru’s shoulders and chest complimented him so perfectly in that light button up, tucked in neatly under those deep blue pants-

ThE pLeASurE iS mine, SiR. He mocks in his head, interrupting those unwarranted thoughts. Pathetic. He was probably just like every other person who meets his father. None of them give a shit about how stingy or ruthless he is, just interested in the money and power that came from being connected to him.

Suguru didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the automatic sliding gate of the big, no, ginormous Gojo estate. He’s only ever seen places like these from the outside. The air inside was heavy with the smell of leather and rich mahogany, a far cry from the familiar scent of his own home.

It didn’t fit with him. He didn’t belong here.

He hadn't spoken a word to his parents since they told him the news, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. His appetite had faded so much that he could hardly bring himself to eat. He spent the last two nights tossing and turning, his mind plagued by his own thoughts of what was going to happen.

Still, he thought, none of that was a good enough reason not to make himself look presentable. If there was one thing that Suguru couldn’t do, it was being rude enough to show up as a guest without attempting to look decent.

And now, Suguru's heart raced as he stood before Satoru's father, feeling as if the older man was staring directly into his soul. He tried to keep his emotions in check, leaving the smile on his face as he fought the urge to flee.

His eyes flicker briefly over the older man’s shoulder, falling onto the exposed throat of the man he was to marry, his head flopped back over the couch.

His gaze quickly returns back onto Satoru’s father when he realises that its rude not to focus his attention. He takes a deep breath, hoping that he doesn't seem too nervous as he clears his throat and tries to steady his voice.

“I apologise for being late.” He offers, stepping to the side to introduce his parents. “This is my father, and my mother.”

His parents step up, both giving a small, polite bow, introducing themselves as they did.

But Suguru can’t focus on the words, his curiosity distracting him from the conversation taking place in front of him. He leans slightly to the side, trying to get another peek at Satoru. He wonders what’s going on through his mind, but the sight of his expressionless face makes it hard to tell. But one thing was clear. Satoru wasn’t happy.

Suguru opted to furrow his eyebrows instead of rolling his eyes. Because of course the prodigal son wouldn’t be happy about marrying some no body whose family owns nothing but a farm. Suguru almost scoffed out loud. Used to own nothing but a farm. Now they had nothing.

Suguru was nothing. And compared to Satoru, he might as well cease to exist. No doubt, Satoru hated his guts, all because his parents were petty enough to sell him off.

If he were Satoru, he would’ve hated himself too.

“Please, don’t wait for an invitation.” Suguru looks back to Satoru’s father, who now had an arm wrapped around his wife’s waist beside him. When did she get there? The older man gestures towards the cream-coloured velvet couch. “Please take a seat.”

His parents don’t need to be told twice, quickly scampering towards the seat with small ‘thank you’.

“Satoru, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. Sit properly in front of our guests.”

Suguru watches in silence as Satoru's father scolds him, before his feet finally start moving. He makes his way to the opposite end of the couch Satoru was on. The white-haired man sighed, long and loud, before straightening his posture. He doesn’t even glance once in Suguru’s direction.

Suguru suddenly feels insulted. Sure, he gets it in a way, that this wasn’t Satoru’s choice and all, but he didn’t get much of a choice either. Did he think himself all high and mighty that much? And why the hell was he wearing sunglasses indoors?

Suguru swallows his pride. Breath in. Smile.

He doesn’t know why he was taking Satoru’s bullshit personally. It’s not like they were in this whole thing for love. The least he could do is tolerate. Maybe, he thinks, hopefully, he silently prays, you’re not going to be an asshole as much as Satoru. Then at least it will be easier for him.

“This way, please.” The voice of the butler who had just recently escorted him and his family, catches Suguru’s attention.

“Ah finally.” Satoru’s father sighs, clapping once and rubbing his palms together. “Our bride is here.”

You and your parents were the last to arrive at the Gojo estate. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to meet your ‘soon-to-be husbands’ or their parents. It doesn’t matter what your parents say, or how childish it is, you’re going to frown through this entire gathering.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Because your jaw dropped open in awe the moment you were let in through the gates.

The house, if you could even call it that, was big, huge in fact. So large that you imagine you could fit your entire home five times over, and still have room to spare. It wasn’t surprising, considering that the Gojo family was well known for their wealth.

By the double front doors, you were greeted by an old, but not that old looking man. Your eyes trail from his face down to his clothes, taking in the formal black suit and small bow, and you realise he must be the butler – they even had a butler.

He guides you in, leading you down the hall into a large room that looked a bit too formal to be called a living room, where you find yourself standing before a six-person audience. All heads turned to you.

After a quick scan of everyone’s faces, your eyes fall onto Satoru. He looks at you with hard, judging eyes, his expression impenetrable behind the sunglasses that cover them.

You can't help but notice the uncanny resemblance to his father - the imposing figure seated on the opposite couch - with his white hair and angular jawline. His full lips and sharp nose, on the other hand, seem to be a hallmark of his mother's features.

Your gaze then shifts to Suguru, who looks at you with a curious gaze. His striking beauty is almost otherworldly, with peaceful, cat-like eyes and a delicate jawline. A gentle masculinity softened so slightly by feminine features.

He's the type of gorgeous that you can't look away from, and you feel yourself drawn to him, almost instinctively.

Both of them, Satoru and Suguru weren’t the creepy old men you were dreading they’d be - thank God. And although they seemed like complete opposites, were equally handsome.

And just like that, the frown that has long since left your face, decides to make a re-entrance. Because what the hell? You were against this whole thing. You were forced into it, expected to go along with it like it's some kind of game. You can’t be thinking like that about the men who didn’t even choose you.

“Well? What are you waiting for, dear?” Satoru’s mother smiles too tightly, her tone way too sweet. “Come and have a seat. Make yourself at home.”

No introduction where needed, because apparently your parents had already met the Gojo’s before during business. Like this is any different.

While there was plenty of free space, it almost seemed like she was being overly obvious for you to take the seat between Satoru and Suguru. So you do. But you make sure to leave a comfortable distance on either side. You suppress the urge to run your fingers over the velvet.

“Aren’t you all just so cute?” Satoru’s mother coos, pulling out her phone. A flash of white momentarily blinds you. “This is going to be perfect for my page.” She beams at her screen.

“Why don’t we all head over to the dining room?” Satoru’s father suddenly suggests. “Let’s give the kids some alone time to get to know each other.”

Your parents all voice their agreements, following Satoru’s mother as she leads them out of the main hall. But Satoru’s father stays behind. Something feels off. He doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity, and you start to wonder if he is ever going to speak.

Satoru wanted nothing more than to throw his head into his hands. He knew that this was just the way his father was before starting one of his ‘I am too important for this world’ speeches.

“Listen closely.” Satoru’s father starts, his tone low and calm, yet there’s a hint of warning in it. It reminds you of how Vito Corleone talks in the Godfather, just without the Italian accent. “My family’s reputation,” Satoru lets out a groan at that, rolling his eyes dramatically as his father continued to talk. “And my reputation. They are very important to me.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit intimidated.

“I’m pretty sure they know that, dad.” Satoru grits out, huffing and turning his cheek to the side. “Who doesn’t?”

“Precisely.” His father arches one of his snow-white eyebrows. “Tomorrow is your wedding-”

“Pretty sure they know that too-” Satoru cuts in, earning himself a pointed glare, but he doesn’t give two shits. It kind of makes you feel a bit better, the way Satoru was being so nonchalant.

“And many important people will attend, including the Gojo family elders.” His father goes on. “You three, and I mean you two in particular,” He uses two fingers to points at you and Satoru, “would do well to know what you’re dealing with now. Fix those attitudes.”

A pang of irritation spikes up. Is he the one to talk about attitudes? Because you could list down a number of things he needs to fix. The first one being to find himself a therapist.

“I don’t want the elders talking badly about us. They are in charge of all our affairs and if they sense any problems, it won’t be good.” Satoru’s father huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “You look like you’re going to be attending a funeral rather than your own wedding!”

And just like that, Satoru snaps.

“Why do they care?!” His voice was loud and filled with venom. “Why the fuck, do they give so much shits about our lives?!”

“Because our family name is one of the most influential throughout all of Japan!” His father spits right back. “And I will NOT have you taint it!”

Your muscles were tense the entire time, heart caught up in your throat at the rising tension. Satoru doesn’t respond, and his father suddenly turns around, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself.

“I don’t care how much you hate it.” He says, calmly. It was as if the yelling that happened seconds ago never existed. He flashes a smile over his shoulder, that almost made you believe it was real. “Act like you want this. You understand?”

And with that, he leaves.

Your eyes dart over to Satoru. His hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was gritting his teeth, the gaze of his sunglasses planted firmly on a spot on the floor. You instantly felt a pang of sympathy at the unfair treatment he got. Did this happen to him all the time?

A part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you also know that getting involved might only make the situation worse.

Satoru finally speaks, his voice sneering. "Listen, I'm telling you from now.” He says, “I don't care why you're here or what you want from my father and this family, but this” He gestures sharply towards the three of you. "Will never be anything more than an act. You won't stick your noses into my life, and I won't stick mine into yours. I don't care what you do, just leave me out of it."

Despite the harsh tone in those words, you felt a wave of relief wash over you for some reason. That didn’t sound all that bad. It hits you that maybe, just maybe you could do that. You can go through the motions without having to actually share any part of your life with them. Shoko and the girls might not need to crash the wedding after all…

“I don’t have any disagreements.” Suguru voiced out, lifting the remaining weight off your chest. No one was opposed to this.

“Me either.”

The person staring back at you in the mirror was… beautiful. You didn’t know you could even look like this.

The light grey wedding dress had a beautiful flowing skirt, draping down to the floor and swirling around your legs as you move. The delicate fabric is a perfect silhouette that falls on you, hugging your body at the waist where a white, silk obi belt is tied in a lovely bow. Several silver outlines of betta fish were adorned the belt, each one catching the light in just the right way.

“You look gorgeous, sweetie.” Came the hushed whisper of the maid doing the finishing touches.

I know, you wanted to say. But the words catch in your throat. It would probably sound rude, even though you could see yourself as clear as day. “Thank you.” You replied instead.

A light knock came from the door. And with it, the beating of your heart only grew louder.

It was time.

A young lady guided you down a wide hallway, fixing and adjusting the back of your dress as you walked, until you reached the opening of a large, opulent lobby, where your father was waiting for you.

He linked arms with you, smiling warmly at you. There was a look of affection filled in his gaze. “I remember the way I used to carry you on my shoulders like it was yesterday.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. “I can’t even carry you anymore.” Words that did nothing to suppress the loathing for him that started days ago.

You don’t say anything, just nodding and turning your head slightly to the side. You didn’t want to start crying, and you didn’t want to forgive him for this either. And with that, he walks you through the double doors.

The buzzing chatter that had filled every corner in the room, suddenly went silent, and all heads turned to you. The whole lobby was filled with large, round tables, every single chair occupied. You silently questioned if the Gojo family had invited the entire population of Japan here.

Your eyes finally settle directly ahead, and there, standing at the end of the aisle, you see them. Satoru and Suguru.

Satoru was wearing a pure, white kimono underneath a white haori jacket. His hakama pants were a baby blue. As for Suguru, he was dressing in the exact same outfit, except it was darker. His kimono and haori jacket were both black, while his pants were a dark grey.

As if their hair wasn’t already enough of a difference.

You’ve been to a couple of weddings before, you’ve seen the way the groom would look at the bride with a love only told from fairytales, or the way the bride can’t stop the smile from forming on her face. Both of them showing nothing but pure happiness.

Chin up. Smile. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting upwards, grinning as best as you could.

But, even with the way Satoru’s face was lit up with a grin that made his face look even more boyish than before, and even with Suguru’s eyes closed into upside down crescents. Anyone could believe it was real, but you knew. There wasn’t a single trace of real happiness on their faces.

You heart started to beat heavily in your ears. Focus on getting one foot in front of the other. Each time you took a step, it was in sync with the pounding in your chest.

Step.

All eyes were on you, wide and unblinking, you could see their mouths moving, sharing whispers. But you couldn’t hear anything. Only the inhale and exhale through your teeth, your eyes set on both the white fluffy hair, flowing freely, and the dark strands that were tied into a perfect bun.

You swallow thickly as a wave of nausea washes over you. Your stomach churned over itself, then over again like a tidal wave washing onto the beach. Sick. You were going to be sick.

You don’t even remember when your father had left your side, waving you in the middle of the two men. You keep your head straight ahead at the priest, unwilling to look at neither Satoru nor Suguru.

Something catches your eye. A small detail you couldn’t have noticed from afar. Satoru’s haori. It was embroidered with light blue outlines of betta fish. And Suguru’s too. All over it, outlined in a magnificent purple. Just like his eyes.

You wonder who chose this specific fish-

“Y/n?” The priest snapped you out of your thoughts.

You blink. Was it your turn already?

“Opps, sorry.” You let out a nervous chuckle, and straightened yourself. “With this ring and binding, I promise to be there for you both, day or night, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” You recited your practiced vow with a beaming smile, looking up at Suguru, then to Satoru.

You watch as Satoru reaches for the ring, a small smirk on his face as he takes your hand and slides the band onto your finger in a smooth and effortless motion. You felt a tingle at his touch, but you pushed it away as he released you.

Suguru follows, grabbing the ring and sliding it onto Satoru's finger, his smile bright and warm as he turns to you with a sense of excitement. He almost makes you feel like this whole exchange was natural.

You were next. You breathe in, your hand trembling ever so slightly as you reach out for the ring. Taking Suguru’s hand, you place the golden band on his finger, marking the official completion of the ceremony.

The audience bursts into a round of cheers and applause, filling your ears like distant echoes.

That’s it. It was done. You were now tied to them, and they to you.

chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)

taglist: @keira80808

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utterdrip · 7 months

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astarion’s sigh/laugh of utter relief when he realizes durge just wants him safe

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #astarion acunin #durge #bg3 durge #like i wont harp on him automatically thinking HES done something wrong #as the reason for why durge would want to break up #bc that will hurt me more #but like #his deflation with relief as he realizes its something he can HELP with #and not something he couldnt change abt himself or how they are as a couple #like im sorry ur honor this man loves tav so dearly!!!!!! so fucking dearly!!!!!!!#the few seconds it takes for him to gather his thoughts #mean so much to me #because if its something about astarion is that hes ALWAYS got some sort of retort #like really the only time he hesitates in dialogue that ive noticed #is when u question what HE wants and what HE feels bc he hasnt had autonomy for so long #and i think its very. honestly beautiful of him to fight back against durge’s reasons #maybe not beautiful but idk how else to describe it #like he wants durge/tav so bad that he forces himself to like. say something just brutally honest with no sugared words #idk idk idk #i just love him!#bg3: vid

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joonie-beanie · 7 months

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Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne.

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair.

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs.

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.”

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today?

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!”

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face.

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing.

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing.

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor.

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—”

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight.

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth.

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs.

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak.

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded.

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head.

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another.

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue.

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks.

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots.

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…”

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt.

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them.

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…”

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy.

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets.

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him.

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ”

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you.

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin.

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy.

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath.

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle.

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise.

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles.

That’s good enough for her.

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley genshin #genshin fic #bean fic #fic #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut

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dante-mightdie · 23 days

Note

Viking Price eating out his wife and pampering her after she got better from a very ugly winter cold that could have been deadly🥺🥺

c/w: mentions of sickness, vomiting, death, smut, cunnilingus, public sex bc you know I love that <3

price is very into fulfilling his role in your marriage. whether he likes you or not, he has an example to se to his clan. you both do. it is both yours and johns role to provide a stable example of a healthy marriage

this means sticking to the vows you took on your wedding day. in sickness and in health, he had taken you in your health for months so when you came down with a horrid illness, it was time for him to double down

he took a huge step back from leading the clan, putting his faith in his second-in-command, simon. he spent his time tending to you, never leaving your side. he carried you when you were too weak to carry yourself, like a strong husband should

he bathed you when you had bad days, which was more often than not. climbing into the tub, cradling your aching body to his chest. he lets your body go limp against his as he cleans the sweat off that had clung to your skin during your hot flashes

his fingers would gently rake through your hair, bunching up the strands away from your face as you empty your guts out into a bucket. spewing up the food that john had slowly fed you earlier

there was a time where he prepared for the worst, accepting that he may have to bury his wife sooner than he thought. however, you had miraculously pulled through. price had sent gaz and soap on an expedition to a faraway village to gather some new healing herbs that john had heard about through the grapevine

you were far too weak to make the journey yourself and john had no intentions of leaving your side. the clan praying for your recovery every night before they lay their heads down to sleep

naturally, the news of your sudden recovery had resulted in a huge celebration. a huge feast being held with wine and music and dancing. it was after hours, and all the children of the clan were at home in bed as the adults continued celebrating

john was in his usual seat, at the head of the table. you planted on his thigh, one arm keeping you steadying against his burly chest. soft giggles leaving your mouth as your husband licks and bites at your neck

your hands are planted right on his pecs, loosely squeezing at the flesh there as your husbands hands travel up your skirt. his lips move down to your exposed clevage, dragging his tongue across your warm skin

you reach behind you to grab the goblet of wine you had been drinking from all evening. a blissful feeling bubbling in your gut from the excitement of getting off with your husband in front of all these people

it’s not like you and john are the only ones. just another couple getting busy in the quiet corners of the hall. perhaps because it’s different this time. this is intimate. affectionate. maybe even loving

you take a long drink of the wine before gripping johns jaw tightly and pull him away from your chest, tilting the bottle towards his mouth. with a soft growl, he takes a few big sips before throwing the bottle to the ground and causing it to shatter

the loud, sudden noise attracts a few stares but this doesn’t stop john from placing his large paws on your ass and hoisting you up onto the table. he spreads your legs, making sure both of your feet are planted on the edge before pushing your skirts up to your hips

his hands caress your thighs, squeezing at the flesh there intermittently. he leans forwards and spits a large glob of saliva onto your cunt. the sensation combined with the booze causes you to let out a little gasp which soon turns into a soft moan when he leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit and sucks on it

your husband seems to pay no mind to the numerous set of eyes that are trained on you both in this moment. looking up at you though hooded eyes as he laps at your pussy

his beard against the sensitive skin of your cunt makes you giggle, your brain spinning at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue spreading your folds apart before dipping into your entrance

your tipsy squeals and giggles making his cock twitch and leak against his hairy thigh. he takes one of his hands down to wrap around his cock, pumping it slowly with a tight grip. his other hand travels up your tummy where it meets yours, his thick fingers interlocking with yours as he moans into your pussy <3

#mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #price #john price x reader #chief!price

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wyvernest · 7 months

Text

hands on you

pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader

warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?

summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club

Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.

Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.

This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.

The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.

But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.

"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.

You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.

"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-

No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.

As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.

But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.

You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.

The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.

The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.

"I know what you're doing."

"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.

He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.

"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.

You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.

"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.

His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.

Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.

Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.

Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.

He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.

His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.

The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.

You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.

"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.

"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"

The bastard.

You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.

Not gonna happen.

"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.

You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.

The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.

You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.

Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-

Fuck.

Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.

The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.

You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.

Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.

More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.

"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.

He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.

You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.

You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.

Smiling, like, what's wrong?

You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.

Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.

Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.

You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.

"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.

"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."

He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.

One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.

Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.

You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.

The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.

"Let's get out of here."

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn

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lilahisntsadanymore · 6 months

Text

Growing up with a deatheater father doesn't teach you much about emotions, so when Theo finds himself developing an infatuation with a muggle-born, he thinks she gave him a love potion.

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!fem!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Warnings: jealous Harry

There is a 2nd part!! <3

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Unveiled Desires

It was strange to him. So strange how he went from mocking, annoying and occasionally bullying her every step she takes to secretly wanting her. Wanting to have her, or even needing her.

He didn't know how or when it happened, but one day he realized she was constantly in his head. It creeped up on him in small steps and eventually he had developed an infatuation for the girl.

Of course nobody knew about it, Theo wouldn't dare telling anyone. He just kept with his antics, hoping the obsession will somewhat disappear one day. Unfortunately, the more he tried to get rid of this feeling, the more he gave it power, the more it grew.

But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't be with a mudblood.

But he wanted to be with her. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the blood status. He cursed at himself for these thoughts. Raised by a deatheater father, he would get disowned for dating anyone who wasn't a pureblood.

"Granger, can I talk to you for a second?" A question left his mouth as he approached the Golden Trio. Who was better to talk to about Y/n than her older sister?

The three Gryffindors looked at Theo as if he wasn't good in the head. Just casually wanting to have a chat, a normal chat, with someone outside of his social circle. Pretty unusual for a Slytherin.

"What is it?" Harry asked protectively.

"I was talking to Granger. I need to talk privately."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, exchanging suspecting glances. Eventually she spoke, "Alright, but make it quick."

"Great, let's go." Theo started walking, but Hermione stood in her place.

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, "aren't gonna eavesdrop."

Hermione crossed her arms on her chest, a knowing expression on her face.

Theo raised his hands, "It's not a trap again, I swear."

The girl sighed and walked after her rival.

Hermione and Theodore weren't fond of each other not only because of their houses and their blood statuses, but also because they were academic rivals. Both of them were extremely competitive. Since first year they aspired to be better than one another in pretty much everything.

"Can we stop already?" The girl asked. "I'm pretty sure they won't ear us from here."

"Alright, alright." Theo agreed. "But I need you to promise me you won't tell anybody about it."

"Why me? Why would you trust a Gryffindor with keeping a secret for you?"

Theo lowered his voice to a whisper, "Because it's about your sister."

"What?!" Hermione's voice was the opposite of a whisper. "What have you done to her?!"

The boy gestured telling her to lower her voice. "No, I didn't do anything. She has done...something."

"What on Earth could that possibly be?" A little more quiet, but still unpleasantly surprised, she decided to listen to him.

One last time, Theo looked around to make sure there's nobody there who could be a witness to what he was about to say.

"She used some spell on me." He accused. "Or put something in my food, my drink."

Hermione scoffed with laughter. "You must be joking. You bully her for whole five years, but one time she pays you back for it, it's an issue?"

"Not like that." He took a second to gather his thoughts. "Granger, do you remember how we learnt about amortentia few weeks ago? I think Y/n gave it to me."

Hermione started at the boy for a moment and then burst out with laughter. Y/n wasn't the issue, there was no way a fifth year would be able to make amortentia. Not even Y/n Granger.

Theodore felt annoyed and offended by Hermione's reaction. He looked at her with disgust. "What is so funny to you about it, mu-, Granger?"

Noticing how he almost called her a slur, her expression immediately became serious. "Seriously? You know what, deal with it by yourself. I don't even know why you're telling me all of this."

"Why? Because you have to talk to her, tell her to do something about it! Tell her to stop it!"

Hermione got a brilliant idea.

"You know, I've heard professor Slughorn had a remedy for amortentia."

"Yeah, and I'll end up in the hospital wing like Weasley."

"It was poisoned mead, not the amortentia cure itself. You can ask him to make one from the ingredients in the classroom."

"I will," Theo scoffed, "look at you being useful for the first time in your life."

Without another word, Hermione walked away. "Boys..." She muttered to herself.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this!"

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"What?! He likes me?!" Y/n asked with blush on her face. "Theodore Nott likes me? The boy that has been bullying me for the past five years?"

"And the thinks it's because you gave him amortentia." Hermione giggled.

Y/n wouldn't ever think that he could be into her and the whole story that her sister had told her was simply unbelievable. But Hermione had no business in lying to her very own little sister, especially not about that.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Not yet, but I talked him into asking Slughorn for the cure! I suppose he'll do this tomorrow after class, as soon as possible."

"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"

The girls were sitting alone in the common room and as Y/n laughed, Ron and Harry walked in.

"What are you two laughing about?" Harry asked, ready to hear that story.

"Can I tell them?" Hermione looked at Y/n. The younger Granger nodded. "Nott likes Y/n."

The girls and Ron laughed, meanwhile Harry stood there with his lips in a thin line, far away from laughing.

"The best part is," Hermione continued, "he thinks Y/n gave him amortentia!"

"What?" Harry spoke eventually, his voice a bit more surprised than it should be. "Y/n, did you give amortentia to Nott?"

"No, why would you accuse me of this?!" The youngest girl defended herself. "Is it that unbelievable that he can fancy me?"

"I mean... You're a muggleborn... And-"

"And what?! Does that mean I'm not worthy of that? We don't know him, maybe he doesn't believe in this whole blood purity thing."

"He does. That's why he hasn't asked you out. And he never will. Because they're all the same."

Y/n's eyes became a little glossy, the tears ready to start flowing anytime. "Are they, though? And you're saying this. You, whose godfather was Sirius Black."

"Sirius was different!"

"We don't know because we don't know what Theo is like!"

"Theo? It was Nott for the past few years that he was tormenting you," Harry put an emphasis on the word bullying, "now he fancies you and he becomes Theo?"

"I would actually give him a chance. It's not his fault that he was born into a blood purity obsessed family."

"Don't you think that's a little pathetic? Running into his hands the moment you find out he might fancy you meanwhile you had chances to date...other Gryffindors."

"Pathetic? You call me pathetic?"

"I didn't call you pathetic, I said what you do is-"

A sound of a slap filled the room, but the following silence spoke even louder. Y/n looked Harry in the eyes, a light red mark on his cheek that her hand left.

Harry could see and sense that it was too much, he said unnecessary words. He regretted them, but he just couldn't stop them from coming out.

The Golden Trio watched Y/n run upstairs. She was so glad nobody else was in the bedroom yet.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"Excuse me, professor," Theo walked up to Slughorn after the class on the following day.

All the other students were slowly exiting the room, Harry's eyes fixed on the Slytherin standing by the teacher's desk.

"Yes, Theodore?" Slughorn asked. "Do you have some more bright insights you'd like to share with me?" He was clearly happy to have this conversation.

"I actually need help, professor."

The man's expression dropped. "Yes? Do you have a problem?"

"I'm worried that I've been given amortentia."

Slughorn's eyes widened. He was surprised or even shocked. "Are you sure? I remember seeing other people under the influence of several love potions and you don't quite match the criteria."

"There's this girl who I can't stop thinking about... I suspect she has given it to me."

"Who that might be?"

Theo waited until all the other students exit the classroom before he said the name.

"Y/n Granger."

Y/n stopped in her tracks just as he was about to enter the potions classroom. She was about to show the teacher a part of her project, wanting to consult the texts she has written. Instead, she stopped and decided to listen to the conversation.

"Ah, she's one of the best students in her year," Slughorn said proudly, "but I assure you - she wouldn't do that to you."

"How can you be sure, professor?"

"Well, could you describe your symptoms, Theodore?"

"Whatever I do, Y/n is on my mind," the boy admitted, "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I zone out thinking about her. It's not normal, I've never experienced it before."

The teacher gave his student a sympathetic smile. "My dear boy, you might be experiencing the actual feeling of being in love."

"What? And how could it have been caused? Was it a love potion, after all? Maybe a spell?"

"It's a part of muggle science, biology. The chemicals in your brain cause it and it's not something you can control. It happens when it happens. A truly beautiful feeling."

Theo's mouth twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You can talk to the girl about it, for example," Slughorn looked at the door and shouted, "come in, Y/n!"

Y/n cursed to herself in her thoughts. How could he know she was there?

The girl walked in shyly, holding a paper in her hands. "I wanted to show you my paper, professor," the girl spoke, "if there's anything you think I should change or... anything."

As the girl handed the paper to the teacher, she looked at Theo. They stood dangerously close to each other. The silence between the was so loud, Y/n was praying for the teacher to say something. Anything.

"Amazing, Mrs Granger," he spoke eventually, "although the Draught of Living Dead is an extremely difficult potion to make. I'm glad you're so ambitious, but I'd suggest you get help from someone more experienced."

"I'm pretty sure I can do it on my own." Y/n assured.

"Maybe Mr. Nott here could help you. The sixth year has been just learning about this potion, actually. Theodore, would you be so kind and help Mrs Granger?"

Suddenly, Theo's gaze somewhat softened. There was no more disgust in his eyes. When he stood so close to Y/n, he wondered why did he act the way he did. Why did he do all the mean things to her. Maybe he had always liked her, but didn't want to admit it, even to himself alone.

"Yes, sure," he said, "I can help."

Y/n felt happy. For some reason, she didn't dislike Theo for all the things he did. She secretly always liked him, he was attractive, and she would even sometimes daydream about the day he would finally talk to her like a normal person. Maybe the day has finally come.

#theo nott #theodore nott #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #theo nott fanfic

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foolsunz · 6 months

Text

𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥…

— nct dream as different kink based scenarios.

content warnings: smut, unprotected sex + more. this is pure self indulgent filth. word count: 2,6K.

౨₊ৎ Mark

fingering, BEGGING (</3) and edging.

you let a whimper and a soft ‘please’ escape you, wanting to come so bad already, but unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, mark, has other plans.

leaning down, he places a soft peck on your stomach before placing several open mouthed, hungry kisses on your inner thighs, so close to where you want him.

“tsk, i thought i taught you better than that, princess,” mark quips, the condescending tone sending waves of heat up your spine.

he gathers the cum leaking from your cunt and pushes it back inside, causing a loud moan to escape your parted lips.

mark watches as your hips buck and squirm from every breath on his lips on your glistening cunt. getting lost in your eyes, he finally seals his lips over your clit again and begins sucking, softly.

“y/n, you have to use your words…”

you feel your lower lip trembling, and your eyes already having tears welling in them. “please, baby—” you beg shamelessly, breathless moans escaping you and filling mark’s ears, making his cock twitch.

he flicks his tongue from side to side so your only reply will be another moan, another plead.

“p-please.”

“please what?” he smiles devilishly, draping your legs over his shoulders as he inserts a second finger in your dripping hole. he circles his tongue around your throbbing, swollen clit, working his two fingers into your tight hole. “words, sweetheart. tell me what you want.”

your pleading and screams get louder as mark’s fingers move faster, his thumb working your clit in circles. He pushes another finger in, finding your sweet spot as your thighs begin to shake. “please…make me come— please, markie.”

you let your head flop back on the bed; just panting and moaning as he presses three fingers inside you.

“mhm, you look so pretty like this,” he smiles, gazing up at you, “sucking all three of my fingers in. fuck, i bet you want my cock. bet you want me to fuck your throat raw until you can’t speak for a day, hm?”

“yes! fuck, mark, please—‘m gonna cum,” you moan.

each thrust of his fingers causes you to lose track of time and space and you can’t help but feel the tears pooling in your eyes.

mark waits until you’re on the cusp of your orgasm to stop his ministrations, and take his fingers out in one swift movement.

“no no no no, why— fuck, why did you stop?” you cry, your body arching off the bed as much as you can to try and get any touch from him.

you whimper when he gently pushes you back down.

tears stream down your cheeks, a pathetic pout etched on your face, and mark can’t help but smile as he kisses the expression off.

“please,” you’re saying, over and over again in a small, desperate tone.

“please, baby— please, please, please,” you beg a few more times, but in that defeated, small voice that means you know for a fact you won’t get what you want.

knowing if you beg enough, then maybe, just maybe, he’ll give you what you want.

but you better pray for it.

౨₊ৎ Renjun

spitting, praise kink, body worship and pet names !!!!

“shit, princess,” renjun starts, sucking harshly on your clit with his skilled tongue, “look at the mess you made.”

you groan, wanting to retort, but you’re lost for words. renjun doesn’t say anything, he merely gazes up at you, a mixture of your arousal and his spit glistening on his chin and dripping down his defined jaw.

“you’re fucking dripping,” he smirks mischievously at you, “i can’t wait to watch you fall apart, pretty.”

you babble incoherently, turning into a crying mess as he sucks on your clit like a lollipop, until you begin to shake, quivering uncontrollably as you mewl his name like a mantra.

“shh, shh. you’re doing so good, baby girl, you look so pretty. just keep going like this, okay angel?” he whispers breathily. “can you do that for me?”

crying out at the praise, you can’t help but nod hesitantly, causing him to smile as he begins tonguing your aching hole while his two fingers work on your clit, rubbing vigorously.

finally you hear him continue to praise you, whispering sweet nothings against your clit as he finger fucks you; and your senses can’t help but get overwhelmed.

there’s too much going on, and all you can - and will focus on, is renjun, renjun, renjun.

“fuck, junnie—” you whine pathetically, clenching around his long fingers and making him groan against your cunt.

just before you can come, renjun kisses up your body, making you whimper as you quiver around his hot breath against your lips.

“say ahh, baby girl,” he smiles, gripping your cheeks and slapping them, demanding you to: “open your mouth.”

you let a gasp escape you as you part your lips, letting him spit in your mouth before firmly grabbing your jaw and following up with a question of, “who do you belong to, huh?”

“you!”

“mhm ‘s that right?” he smirks, mocking you as he smears the spit all over your lips and face. “yeah? that’s a good fucking slut.”

his fingers thrust faster inside your hole and his thumb continues to rub your clit, determined to make you come and make you see stars.

you cry out in pleasure, and when you orgasm for the fourth time, renjun comes, untouched, his cock pulsing against your thigh as he writhes in pleasure; the feeling of you cumming enough to make him come undone, his cum staining his boxers.

౨₊ৎ Jeno

face fucking, degradation & corruption/innocence kink. 😵‍💫

“more jen,” you beg pathetically as you look up at jeno with the prettiest doe eyes.

you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out flat and inviting more of him in as he slowly slides his cock inside your small, soft mouth.

but it isn’t enough for you. “please, ngh i want— i need more.”

it’s like a switch is flipped, your usually sweet and careful boyfriend who always treats you like you’re made of glass, finally snapping and becoming rough with you; animalistic moans escaping him as he begins fucking your face.

“greedy fucking slut,” he snarls, tangling his fingers in your hair as he thrusts his cock down your throat. “you want more, huh? i’ll fucking give it to you.”

he moves his hand from your jaw to the back of your head, holding you steady as you keep bobbing your head and swallowing around his length.

“take it, slut,” he growls, thrusting harder and almost forgetting it’s your mouth he’s fucking, and not a toy. “shit… baby, that feels so good.”

you gag around him, drooling all over yourself as mascara cascades down your cheeks and your perfectly applied red lipstick a mess, all smudged from having your plush lips wrapped around your boyfriend’s dick.

you feel your throat beginning to burn and you can barely see his face due to the tears welling in your eyes, but you still want more. you want to please him, and take him - all of him; wanting him to move faster, deeper, until you’re a trembling mess and can’t breathe.

jeno hisses before yanking your hair harshly and thrusting back into your mouth, “you’re such a dirty little whore… fuck— you love choking around my cock, don’t you, slut?”

humming in agreement around him, he lets a loud whimper escape him as he bites his bottom lip.

he can’t help but wipe away your tears as he fucks your tight throat and pretty face into a drooling, needy mess. your boyfriend moans loudly, tangling his fingers into your hair before increasing his pace.

“oh yeah?” he growls, pushing your head down to make sure you choke around him and taste every inch of him. “let’s see how much you can take before you start crying like a little girl and beg for air.”

౨₊ৎ Haechan

dacryphilia, squirting (!!!!!) and pet names 😫😫

“please fuck— yes, hyuck, nggh don’t stop,” you mewl, barely able to make out coherent sentences as you babble nonsense with the need to cum.

you know at this point, your brain is purely focused on haechan’s mouth on you; the way he grinds against the mattress to relieve himself as he pleasures you with his mouth and fingers, the sweet sounds escaping the both of you…

you know you aren’t going to last long.

haechan gazes up at you through hooded eyes, you can feel him smirk against your cunt as he devours you, listening to your pleas.

he’s more than practiced at making you fall apart and making you cry and scream his name, which is why he has a new mission to be fulfilled: to make you squirt.

and, since he knows your body better than you do, he knows the only way to make that happen, is to edge you first.

so that is what he decides to do.

his wet lips closes around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly as his eyes focuses on the expressions you are making, taking in each of them in and memorising what makes you feel good.

and without a warning, he inserts two of his fingers inside of you, curling them and hitting the spot you love oh so much.

you can’t help but scream his name and arch your back for more.

“that’s the spot, huh pretty?” he smirks, moaning as he feels your walls clench around his digits. “shit, you like it when i touch this spot, don’t you?”

you bite your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks as you desperately hump haechan’s fingers, his wet tongue, and his pretty face; searching for release.

with every breath you take, soft whimpers and ‘oh my god’s’ leave your lips.

“you gonna come for me, princess?”

you nod vigorously, lust practically plastered in your eyes as his fingers and tongue begins to match the pace of your rocking hips.

“h—hyuck…” you whimper as you twitch, moaning as he leaves bite marks alongside the many other bruises that litter your body from his mouth. “god, i’m gonna—fuck!”

you sob when you feel his breath against your core, “let it go, baby,” he growls as he sucks and licks your clit with a moderate amount of pressure. “cum for me.”

he smirks when he sees tears sliding down your cheeks, “you’re so so so beautiful when you cry for me, angel…”

“so fucking pretty,” he moans, the thrusts of his fingers getting rougher and rougher every time you let out a sound.

“fuck— baby girl, i wanna see you shower the fucking sheets… wanna watch you cry, hear you scream. let it all out, baby, soak my fucking hand.”

“no, wait—” you start, but it’s too late.

you feel the sudden sound of fluids gushing down the side of your knees, soaking your inner thighs as tears of humiliation burn down your cheeks.

you feel embarrassed, mortified in fact but, hyuck merely makes a seal with his lips and sucks your clit so hard that it’s enough to clutter your vision as you gush around his fingers and mouth.

“shit— that’s it, squirt for me. fuck, just like that, that’s my girl.”

౨₊ৎ Jaemin

overstimulation, face sitting & auralism <3333

“fuck— i need to taste you now,” he groans, his lips immediately finding your tits, pulling down the cups of your bra to get better access to your nipples. he latches on to your nipple, sucking firmly while kneading the other in circular motions. “c’mere baby, sit on my face.”

he wastes no time in finding your swollen clit with his tongue, wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his face deeper into your wet pussy.

as he sucks on your clit, he looks up at you; his eyes focusing on you and your facial expressions.

he loves the small gasps and moans you let out, but he wants you to scream for him.

“are you holding back?” he asks, his tongue swirling around your clit faster, his moans causing vibrations that had you whimpering his name.

“don’t. i wanna hear your pretty little moans.” he adds, urging you to scream for him.

you feel yourself getting closer to your release as he speeds up his ministrations, and when you finally come with a scream of his name and a yank of his hair, he laps up your spill of juices dutifully, cleaning up every last drop as you come down from your high.

“oh? you thought i was done?” he poses, “no no, baby, you can take one more for me, right?”

౨₊ৎ Chenle

exhibitionism & dumbification 🥵

“chenle,” you plead, your voice thick with tears as you try your best to stop yourself from rolling your hips against his, “there’s people nearby— oh my god, we’ll get caught.”

“fuck them,” he groans into your ear before looking up at you, his deep voice and gaze sending shivers down your spine. “let them walk in, I don’t give a shit.”

you feel your thighs begin to quiver and shake as he continues having his way with you, fucking and using you like a rag doll, and just when you feel your legs almost give out from under you, chenle grabs your hips and wraps them around his waist as he keeps fucking you.

for a quick second, you’re grateful, but that’s until you realise this new angle has his dick drilling even further into your cunt.

“oh my god,” you cry out, “we can’t— chenle… you’re crazy.”

he just smiles at you, looking into your eyes; knowing they’re saying a differing story. thrusting his hips in deeper, he hisses as your hot walls squeeze around him, groaning loudly before he begins rubbing your clit in fast circles.

“tell me to stop,” he purrs seductively, kissing at your jaw before trailing kisses along your neck, “fuck— say you don’t want this as much as i do, and i’ll stop.”

the way your eyes roll into the back of your head has the blood rushing right to chenle’s cock. you both know for a fact you won’t tell him to stop, and when he begins thrusting faster, setting a relentless and merciless pace, you can’t help but give in and moan his name like a prayer as you fall apart.

“that’s my fucking girl,” he smirks proudly, picking up his pace, letting his movements do the talking for him. “shit, that’s it, baby… scream my name, let them hear you.”

౨₊ৎ Jisung

breeding and dacryphilia <3

“you wanna cum?” he questions, placing your legs over his shoulders as his pace quickens, a choked moan falling from your lips at the feeling.

you nod vigorously, your voice already slipping into a little whimper as you squeeze your eyes.

“fuck, baby… ‘m gonna fill you up good,” he purrs, thrusting forward, loosening his grip on your waist until his cock is fully sheathed inside your gspot.

“that’s the spot, right baby?” he growls animalistically, teasing you with a few shallow, yet powerful and merciless thrusts, as you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to feel more of him inside you.

“oh my god, jisung— fuck, right there,” you moan, feeling his groans echoing throughout your body, as he leans forward, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaning down to kiss you deeply, hungrily; biting your bottom lip and making you gasp. “please, i want you to come inside of me.”

“yeah, babe?”

jisung smiles devilishly, quickening to a brutal pace as he trails a hand down to massage your throbbing clit.

“want me to fill you up with my cum over and over again? get you pregnant?” he whispers, loving the way your entire body shakes and reacts to the thought of him knocking you up.

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erwinsvow · 1 month

Text

“stay away from her, rafe,” his sister’s voice comes from behind.

rafe resists an eye-roll, staring out across the pool of tannyhill and in particular, you, his sister’s friend, sprawled out on a beach chair with your nose in a book. he’s seen you before, around the house, usually unable to meet his eyes and flushing at anything he’d say. he didn’t pay much attention before, since you were almost painfully shy and skittish to the touch— definitely too shy for him—but he’s starting to change his mind.

he watches you lower the book to your chest, covering your flimsy blue bikini and looking up to see where the noise is coming from. you catch rafe’s eye for one second, taking in the fact that he’s staring right at you, and you panic, bringing the book right back up to hide your face. he smirks, until sarah speaks again.

“seriously rafe. don’t even look at her. she’s way too nice for you, anyways.”

“shut up. not doing anythin’, and i don’t have to listen to-”

“sarah!” ward’s voice comes from inside. she walks back inside, telling rafe to leave you alone one last time. he stays out there, minutes passing by quickly, until he notices you glancing up at him again. you walk over in his direction, and even in your demeanor he can tell sarah was right, that you’re so shy you can’t even find the nerve to approach him, and you hover in front of the backdoor, trying to peer inside to see where your friend went.

“need somethin'?” rafe asks you, and he notices your entire body tense up. you turn around slowly to face him, but you stare at your feet while you speak.

“um, i’m sorry. sarah was gonna bring me home.” you look up quickly and then look back down. he thinks it’s cute, though he’s sure he once thought it was annoying. he wonders if you’re like this with everyone. “it’s almost curfew so i should-”

“well sarah’s occupied.” you meet his eyes finally, your own wide like coins, taking in his words. “get your stuff, kid. i’ll take you home.”

“oh, you don’t have to-”

“get your ass in the car. come on. i don’t have all day.” you comply quickly, gathering your book and bag, not even looking for sarah again, which he likes a little too much. you climb into the passenger seat of his truck, but keep your gaze locked out the window. it’s not until he pulls infront of your house that you speak.

“thanks, rafe,” you mumble quietly. he turns to look at you, but you’re sniffling with quivering shoulders.

“you cryin’?” he’s actually confused—unsure of what he did, if anything. he thought driving you home was something that would make you happy.

“no,” you get out, in between a sob. “i didn’t mean to bother you, or m-make you mad.”

“mad?” he asks, staring at you curiously. rafe thinks maybe he should have expected this, or seen this coming. gears start turning and clicking into place, the way you play with the hem of your dress and keep your head down. you were more messed up than he thought. he chooses his next few words carefully. “and what did i say…to make you think that? hm?”

“y-you said you didn’t have all day. and you sounded upset.” rafe tries to think back, but he hasn’t felt upset with you at any point in the last hour. he exhales, laughing a little. he thinks he could have a lot of fun with you, with the way you behave around him. the very thought of you talking to some other guy like this makes his blood boil.

“well, m’not. not mad or anythin’ else, okay?” you look back up through watery eyes.

“really?”

“no, kid. not at all. you walk around thinkin’ everyone’s mad at you all the time?”

“i-i don’t know. i guess. you just scared me.”

“well i’ll try not to. get inside. i’ll see you tomorrow.” you climb out, picking up your bag and adjusting your dress. before you turn to head back, you peer in through the open window at rafe. your gaze darts around, finally settling on him.

“tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow. i’ll swing by. g’night, kid.”

“goodnight, rafe.”

#crybaby shy reader my beloved!!!! rafe loves you!!#just part 1.... more to come !#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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bubble-tea-blossom · 2 months

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Hear me out fellow Joel sluts, the demon of horny hath possessed me.

Jackson era. Pure smut. Age gap. Frantic fucking on a couch. 18+ only.

Desperate not to cum, Joel thinks about what a terrible person he is.

I mean, he knows her parents for fuck’s sake. He’s over at their house on the regular. How the hell he’s supposed to look them in the eye now? Now after fucking their pretty little daughter like an animal on their own couch.

Joel has her on her back, her legs bouncing in the air while he fucks her in a mating press.

He likes it best this way. When he can get deep, grinding his pelvis against hers. He likes watching her cute face screw up in pleasure, her eyes and mouth popping open when he knocks on her cervix.

She claws at him, arching her back when he grinds even deeper,

“Fuck!” She cries. Joel stares at her lips, puffy and wet from when she sucked on his dick. She’s trembling now when Joel slides his cock in and out. In and out, he fucks her tight channel open with every thrust.

The girl is whining now, tears brimming in her big eyes as all she can do is lie there and take the brutal pounding from a man older than her father.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” she whispers, and indeed Joel can feel the walls of her tight little pussy start to flutter. Poor thing’s been put through the ringer tonight.

His mouth falls open in a groan. She feels heavenly, wrapped around his dick and pinned underneath him.

Shit this girl’s gonna drain his balls soon if he’s not careful. And Joel has no plan on this ending anytime soon.

So Joel thinks about what people would say if they found out. What they’d call him behind his back.

Dirty old man. Shit like that.

Joel’s finding it very hard to care when she finally cums. Her cunt squeezes around him like he tasered her. Her back arches as much as it can with all of his bulk pressing down on her.

Joel doesn’t let up his thrusts. No, he fucks her through her orgasm, pummeling her pussy with his cock, his balls slapping against the soaked skin of her asshole.

“Fuck pretty girl, you got a great pussy.” Joel grunts, feeling her tremble underneath him.

She gives a tired laugh, “Thanks.”

“Little thing takes me so well, stretches out nice for me.” He purrs, feeling his own orgasm pull low in his gut.

He slows his thrusts, wanting to savour this. The feeling of her warmth wrapped around him, her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. The smell of her neck when he sucks and licks.

Her little cunt, warm and wet and all for his taking.

Its too much. Without any further warning, Joel feels a familiar jolt in the base of his spine. He instinctually slams himself as deep as he can while his balls tighten and he pumps shot after shot of cum deep inside her.

The girl doesn’t react how Joel thought she would. She lies there, letting out a little moan at the feeling of his cock throbbing against her walls. It takes a few seconds until she looks up at him, her eyes wide,

“Wait what was that? Did you just cum?” She asks, her voice wavering.

Joel knew he was a bad man when the realization that he was the first man to paint her insides with his seed, makes him rut into her again. Giving short little thrusts, getting the last dregs of his cum inside her walls.

The girl gasps when Joel finally pulls out. He does so slowly, he knows he can be a lot to handle. Especially now that he’s rethinking how experienced she might be.

Breathing heavily, Joel rests with the tip of his cock still pressed against the girl’s seam. She sits up, trying to shift to better see herself. Joel watches with a soft groan when the pearly white fluid pools at the girl’s entrance, before spilling down.

Its thick. And there’s a lot. Joel’s not even sure when the last time he’d had an orgasm was but he must’ve been pretty backed up because now its at risk of staining her parent’s couch.

Joel gathers it with two fingertips, dragging his fingers up her slit before pushing back inside.

Her lip quivers and the shudder that passes through her is one of pleasure, especially when Joel starts to finger her with more rhythm. Pulling her libido back up of the floor, up and running again.

“I am sorry about that. Kinda came outta nowhere. I can get you anything you need.” Joel promises. His sentances are short, but the girl nods, the look on her face showing she understands.

“I might take you up on that,” she says with a sigh at the ministrations Joel’s laying on her.

“But first,” she moans, her knees falling wider, “my parent’s don’t get back til Monday.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #my writing #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel x y/n #joel miller x reader #smut tag #joel smut #tlou smut

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jaylaxies · 23 days

Text

NOW OR NEVER

PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.

SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.

WC: 1.4k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”

You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.

You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.

No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).

To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:

Choke me, Spider-Man!

It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.

Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.

The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.

This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.

Crush on a superhero?

Pathetic.

He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?

Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.

Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.

Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.

The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.

“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.

Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?

Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.

“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.

His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.

“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.

“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.

You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.

He smelled so good.

“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.

He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.

He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.

Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.

Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.

You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.

“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.

His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”

He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.

He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.

His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.

He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.

You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.

“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.

Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen imagines

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mingtinys · 1 month

Text

" i will never be too mad to take care of you "

pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language , descriptions of a wound , blood

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : last minute i actually decided to flip jeonghan's and joshua's prompt , we'll see if i regret it

Your eyes follow Jeonghan carefully, tracking his movements throughout the kitchen. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn't, he simply continues to mull about his business. Completely ignoring your presence and the tension that hangs heavily in the air as a result of your recent argument.

It wasn't the biggest fight you've ever had, but it was surely up there. In the heat of it, you said some things you didn't mean, things that seemed to hit Jeonghan in just the right spot to set him off. You felt bad at first. The moment tears began to gather in his eyes and his face dropped you felt the urge to apologize. But then he opened his mouth and shot some choice words back at you in a way that hit just as hard. All thoughts of talking it out ceased then and there, and so ensued the ongoing silence between you two.

Even just his lingering presence as you try to prepare dinner has you on edge. So much so, that you focus all your attention on what he's doing and what he could be thinking rather than the onion you're chopping up. With your mind split, it only takes a few seconds before you feel the knife slice into your hand. It clatters to the ground as you cry out and cradle your injured hand.

"Ah– shit!"

Jeonghan is at your side in half a second, maybe less. Reaching out to take hold of your hand so he can examine it. "What happened?" His voice is urgent, but his grip is gentle as he hovers over the bleeding wound.

"Ow– I'm fine, it's fine—"

"No, you're not. Just take a seat, I'll be back in a second." He's gone and back in under a minute, the first aid kit from the upstairs bathroom tucked under his arm. You sit in the nearest chair and Jeonghan kneels in front, delicately taking your hand into his palm.

It stays silent as he cleans around the cut and begins to tenderly wrap the fluffy white gauze around your hand. "It looks pretty deep. I think it'd be best if we go to the emergency room and have it looked at, I can drive."

"Why?" The word slips out before you can stop it.

Jeonghan gives you a funny look. "Um, because you might need stitches?"

"No. I meant why do you care?" Tears brim at your lashes and you can feel the tidal wave of pent-up emotions ready to crash down. "I said some really awful things. You should be mad right now, not helping me—"

"Woah woah woah, hey," He soothes. His palm softly cups your face while the other rests on your knee, squeezing it. "I will never be too mad to take care of you." The sincerity in his sparkling gaze never falters.

"I'm really sorry, Jeonghan. I promise I didn't mean what I said."

"I know," he smiles, rising to his feet to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry as well. We can talk about it once you're better."

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rafeysdoll · 22 days

Note

hiii

a drabble idea i had was rafe and innocent!reader (at least inexperienced in smoking) smoking a blunt together on their balcony at the house in nassau when rafes having that party and rafe gets all touchy and is helping you smoke it and you get all fried and horny and he shuts the party down and you guys fuck in his room -👛

nice to see u again anon! thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy it <3

“it’s alright.. it won’t bite you, jus’ gotta inhale real slow.” rafe instructs, a smirk evident on his lips. music blasting downstairs, everyone in their own world. although he loved you sweet and pure, the thought of him being the one to corrupt you made his cock twitch.

you wrap your lips around the joint, taking it in for a few seconds before pulling away, holding the smoke for a little bit before exhaling. the new feeling made you nervous, never wanting to make a fool of yourself. always wanting to excel in everything for rafe’s approval.

“how’s it feel? you feel good?” he asks, rubbing his hands on each side of your shoulders. “think you can take another one, baby?”

with each hit you take, you feel yourself feel lighter and lighter. your head fuzzy. you were sitting on rafe’s lap now, both having bloodshot red eyes now, giggling at everything as rafe explores your body.

“you ever.. you ever uh, touch your tits?” he whispers, barely audible, groping one through your bikini, free hand holding the joint. “not really,” you mewl, whimpering under his touch. “i like it, though.” you confess, blush spreading through your cheeks.

“yea? you like it baby?” he chuckles, following his hand up to your face, squishing your cheeks. “open up,”

you whimper, separating your lips and expecting rafe to give you the joint. instead, he takes his own drag— blowing the smoke into your mouth.

the act makes your rub your thighs together, the very familiar feeling of desire running throughout your body.

“fuck.. me,” you breathily whine, thoughts catching up to your lips quick. an absolute pitiful and desperate look twisted on your face. “please.”

he couldn’t even reply, the sound of some sort of fight happening downstairs making the little bubble you both put around yourselves pop. cheers of encouragement being yelled.

you move off rafe’s lap, eyebrows furrowed as rafe starts walking towards the edge.

“the fuck are you guys doing? all of you need to get the hell off my property now!” his voice booms, people now staring up at him, most gathering their things as a small crowd tried to separate whoever was fighting.

while everyone cleared the scene, you had made your way back inside, laying on rafe’s bed, waiting for him to come back.

“there you are sweet girl,” he smiles, kicking off his shoes and walking closer to you. “my apologies for the interruption, think it’s time we get back where we left off, right baby?”

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strawchocoberry · 1 month

Text

TRADE MY WHOLE LIFE JUST TO BE

୨୧ featuring: dr. ratio, blade, sunday, jing yuan, aventurine x fem reader

ଘ cw: smut, spanking, dacryphilia, oral sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, sword play (blade’s part | knife play, but with a sword), praise kink, degradation kink, fear play, nipple play, thigh riding, choking, fingering, rough sex

୨୧ synopsis: you become their slave for a day

ଘ wc: 4.8k

ʚ DR. RATIO ɞ

It’s not a state secret that Dr. Ratio despises idiots. He does make it abundantly clear any chance he gets. And yet you just had to keep pestering him, asking — begging to be exact — for his attention. Ratio was going to kick you out and go back to his book, when your suggestion piqued his interest.

“A game of chess. The loser will become the winner’s slave for a day. They’ll have to do anything the winner says, no complaints.”

“Anything, huh…?” Ratio smiles, closing his book and readjusting himself on his chair.

He contemplates only a moment on the matter, as you bring over the chessboard and start arranging the pieces. The magnanimous genius allows you to take the white pieces, giving you not only the first move advantage, but also a higher chance of winning against him. And yet, the outcome is all the same in the end; you lose miserably.

Ratio notices your change in demeanour. He can basically hear your thoughts; I need to get out of here. But a bet is a bet. Silently, he finds himself behind you and you startle when he grips your shoulder softly. “I hope you’re prepared, my dear.” His ominous tone and wicked smirk makes you gulp.

The next second, Ratio has you bent over the chessboard, cautious not to move a single piece. He gently caresses your body, his touch feathery, although you know it’s only the beginning; the worst is yet to come. He lifts the skirt of your dress up to your waist, goosebumps erupting on your exposed skin.

You yelp, instinctively biting your lip to muffle your shriek of surprise, as Ratio spanks you once with his book. “I gave you many chances to win,” he starts saying, landing another spank. “And yet you exploited none of them.” Spank. “How utterly disappointing, my dear.” Spank. “Let me explain how you could have won.” And as he goes on to list off all the moves and strategies you could have followed, he continues spanking you, until your arse has turned a beautiful shade of red, stinging from the pain. By the time he’s done, your lip is bleeding from how hard you bit it and your cheeks are smeared by your tears.

“Looks like you enjoyed yourself,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers rubbing your damp panties. He tears them off your body, leaving you gasping, as he takes a few steps away, then stops and turns to look at you again. “Come here, my dear,” Ratio orders. And before you take even a step, he clarifies, “Crawling.”

You’re momentarily frozen, but drop to your knees when you meet his hard gaze. You crawl to him, just like he asked, keeping your eyes on his. When you’re right in front of him, Ratio undoes his trousers, sliding them down just enough to free his cock. “You’re a terrible chess player, but perhaps you’ll be better at this.” His hand caresses your jaw, his thumb pushing through your lips and opening your mouth to slap his cock on your tongue. “For your own good.”

Ratio pushes his cock through your lips, sliding into your warm mouth. When he doesn’t make another move, that’s your cue to start sucking him off. You twirl your tongue around his length, lolling it over that vein on purpose. Your one hand strokes the part of him you cannot fit into your mouth, while the other tends to his balls, softly caressing and squeezing them, earning a few grunts from him.

Usually, he isn’t one to let his emotions show on his face, but his poker face cracks for a moment, lust and greed flashing in and out of his eyes in an instant. Ratio gathers your hair in a messy ponytail and starts thrusting in your mouth, making you gag on his girth. But he couldn’t care less if you were uncomfortable or deprived of oxygen. He pistons his hips, saliva smearing the corner of your lips.

You’re out of breath with tears streaming down your cheeks and it makes him go feral. A moment later, he pulls out of your mouth and strokes his cock, hot cum spilling all over your face. Quite the masterpiece if he says so himself. You’re panting hard, trying to regain the breath he stole from you. And yet this messy appearance of yours makes Ratio hard again, despite just cumming.

“You might be an intellectual failure, but you’re quite the expert in other fields.” Your face is so adorably lewd that he can’t help but pull his phone out and take a photo of it. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I shared this with everyone? I’m sure other stressed geniuses would seek out your services.”

“No—” you protest, when he grabs your elbow and pulls you back on your feet.

“Did I hear you complaining?” he asks, a cruel smirk on his lips. The way you keep your mouth shut and that look that indicates you’re cursing at yourself makes him chuckle. Swiftly, he slams you on the wall, his chest pressing your back further into it, your breasts flattening against the cold surface. “If you don’t want this photo to be distributed around the galaxy, then you better keep your mouth shut.”

You don’t immediately pick up on the meaning of his words, but when he thrusts balls-deep into your soaking pussy, you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your noises. Ratio pulls your arse further out, making your body curve and give him better access, as he pounds into you. Of course, he has no intention of releasing that photo for the world to see. His intentions are rather self-beneficial; first, he’ll get to see that pretty face and jerk his stress off and second, he can blackmail you to relieve his stress for him whenever he wants to.

He pities you for being an imbecile and believing he’d ever do something so low. But even a genius like him has to admit that your idiocy has its perks. Perhaps you’re the only idiot he can tolerate. As long as you allow him to use your body however he wants, torturing you with multiple denied orgasms, whilst filling you up with his own. Why would he want you as his slave for only a day when you can be his slave forever?

ʚ BLADE ɞ

The sounds of swords clashing fill the room, as you spar with Blade. It was supposed to be just a usual sparring session, but Silver Wolf decided to spice things up by making you and Blade agree to a bet; the loser would obey the winner’s every command for a day. Blade wasn’t really interested, but was somehow convinced — or coerced into it — after Silver Wolf’s constant complaints.

However, the little gamer left almost immediately after you agreed on the bet, since Kafka needed her for something. And now, you’re fighting against Blade, the two of you dancing as you evade and attack. You groan, as his sword barely grazes your skin when you dodge his attack in the last moment. Something has changed in his attitude, you can tell. A moment ago, Blade was barely paying much attention to your fight, yet now his eyes betray he’s dead on winning this bet.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but after a brief moment of thought, he did find this bet quite… enticing. Which was Silver Wolf’s plan from the start. You are allowed to feel tricked, because that’s exactly what happened. Blade has been in an awful mood these past few days and you are the only one who can cheer him up. Silver Wolf just provided some aid into that. Besides, you both know that either you win or lose, it won’t really matter, will it?

When Blade disarms you, sending your sword flying behind you, you know you’ve lost. And there’s no mistaking the burning fire in his red eyes. You must resemble prey cowering before its predator, because he chuckles as he approaches you, his heavy footsteps echoing in the silence that rules between you. He wraps his arms around you, slamming your body on his. Yes, he’s already feeling much better.

“B-Bladie, wait—”

“Hmm?” he hums, tearing apart your blouse, revealing your bra-clad breasts to him. He dives his face into your plum tits, kissing and nibbling on your soft skin. “Did you say anything, darling?” he coos.

Your head falls back and you’re suppressing a moan, as Blade rips your bra off your body, leaving your upper part completely naked under his eager gaze. You gasp as he takes one nipple into his mouth, flicking and pinching the other one with his thumb and forefinger, toying with it till it stands erect.

You don’t register when he’s discarded the rest of your clothes, his eyes feasting on your delicious form. Blade pushes you on the ground, having you lie on your back, while he’s standing over you, your eyes locked with one another’s. Your breath hitches and you break eye contact with him, your eyes immediately flying to his sword that caresses your body. You’re trembling, but you’re too afraid to move in fear of his sword cutting you.

“You’re so lovely when you’re scared, darling,” he coos, trailing random lines over your body with his sword, cautious not to cut you.

“Is this…” You swallow the lodge in your throat. “Is this what you wanted to do?”

“Part of it,” he replies.

Blade kneels down, spreading your legs with his thigh. A wickedly sick smirk curls up his lips when he sees your dripping folds. He glances at you, then back to your soaked pussy. He didn’t expect you to like this; perhaps neither did you. He leaves the sword aside for now, holding two fingers in front of your mouth. You don’t need to be told to open your mouth and suck on his digits, coating them in your saliva.

As he looms over your body, Blade thrusts his fingers into your eager pussy that clenches around them almost instantly. He can’t help but chuckle as he leans closer to bite down on your neck. Your body arches off the floor, moans leaving your lips as the sound of your squelching pussy echoes around. Your sharp intake of breath is audible when Blade chokes your neck just enough to make you lightheaded.

Aeons, you’re just… so breathtakingly beautiful. All sprawled out on the floor for him, whimpering his name and squirming under him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you even if he wanted to. Blade won’t admit it, but there are a lot of things he’d like to try. And now that you cannot deny him anything, being his little slave, he’s going to act upon every single fantasy he’s ever had.

You’re so close to that euphoric bliss, only to be denied altogether. You whine and are about to complain, when Blade throws you a hard stare that shuts your mouth, leaving only a small pout. He kisses your pouty lips, while simultaneously freeing his hardened throbbing cock from its confines. He strokes his length a few times, rubbing it on your folds, before pounding into you.

Blade pins your arms over your head, holding them there by your wrists with one hand. He grins, noticing the instant trembling of your body and the way your pussy clenches his cock tighter when he holds his sword to your throat. Your eyes are so big and full of fear and he can’t help but drink it all, thrusting relentlessly into you. And he doesn’t need long to have you cumming all over his cock.

“You love the fear, don’t you, darling?” Blade asks devilishly, biting down on your breast. “Now, you’ll be my good cock slave and let me fuck you till I’m satisfied, right?” He brings the sword closer to your neck, threatening to cut you, as he leans to whisper in your ear. “We both know I need it desperately.”

ʚ SUNDAY ɞ

Despite his benevolent façade, Sunday thrives on coercion. And you’re his favourite toy. He cannot help his urge to break you, make you cry and beg. It’s not unusual for him to use some of his manipulation tactics to lure you where he wants you. And bewitched by him, you’ve yet to realise it. But is that such big of a deal when you secretly enjoy everything he gives you?

You were set to fail from the start. And you would have never guessed that the ethereal man over you was the one responsible for it. Blame it on yourself for not knowing any better than accept a bet from Sunday. Failure was never an option for him. And victory proves to be sweeter than he had anticipated.

“S-Sunday…” you whimper, squirming as you lie down over his desk. “P-P-Please…”

Your entire body is shaking and fat tears stream from your eyes. Instead of indulging your plea, Sunday increases the volume of the vibrator to the max and you cry out. Your mind is long gone to the overstimulated pleasure of your multiple orgasms. You wouldn’t be able to remember what your bet was about even if you tried; only that you’ve signed a deal with the devil to serve him for a day.

Your scream as you orgasm for what seems like the millionth time echoes in the study, curling Sunday’s lips in a vicious smirk. He lowers the volume and leans over you, planting a soft kiss in faux affection on your sweaty forehead. His dark gaze drinks in your pathetic state; quivering body clad in the maid outfit he made you wear, pussy so soaked and sensitive he swears you’ll cum again the moment he slides his cock inside, eyes glossy with tears, pleading for reprieve. His desk has become a mess, but he couldn’t care more about it.

You don’t know this, but Sunday arranged this little — and seemingly innocent — bet to punish you. No, he wasn’t the least bit happy about you spending all that time with that new guy in the general staff. But simply punishing you for giving another man the time of the day instead of him would be too easy and somewhat… boring. What Sunday wanted to see was this; your fearful pleading expression, despite you knowing he wouldn’t show you any mercy. Aeons, his cock has been hard ever since he saw your cheerful expression become terrified when he won the bet.

A small sigh of relief leaves your lips when he removes the vibrator, leaving it aside. You momentarily close your eyes and relax on the hard surface of his desk, your chest rising and falling steadily. For a few seconds, you’ve lost all connection to the world, retrieving yourself in your mind. Sunday chuckles at your rather peaceful state that is then violently twisted into a whiny pout as he rubs his cock on your oversensitive folds, making you whimper.

Before you even have the time to complain, he thrusts inside and stills. He covers his amused smile with his hand, his eyes devouring every inch of your body as your orgasm coats his girth. “I can’t believe you came by only having my cock inside you,” he coos. You can’t believe it either, but you don’t have time to lament on it. Not when Sunday places your legs over his shoulders and thrusts inside you hard, reaching deep that soft spot that makes you cry out in pleasure — and perhaps pain from being overstimulated.

“My angel, the fun has only just begun,” he whispers in your ear, his hand pressing down on your stomach, as he ravages your pussy.

The desk rattles with each thrust of his and you’re holding onto the edge for dear life. You feel as if you can pass out any moment now. And as if reading your thoughts, Sunday whispers, “Even if you pass out…” Thrust. “I’ll fuck you back to consciousness.” Thrust. “There’s no escaping this, my little slave.”

And you’ll find out the hard way that Sunday meant every word of his promise — or threat; depends on how you interpret it. One moment he’s pounding into you and you close your eyes only for a few seconds, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. And the next moment, you open your eyes and meet his, his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping at your delectable juices. Realisation that you passed out hits you as hard as your next orgasm.

Sunday rises to his feet and buries his cock inside you once more, smirking evilly at your cute whiny whimper. He devours your lips, his fingers getting tangled in your hair and his hips slamming against yours, his balls slapping your arse with each thrust. “I told you, there’s no escaping this, angel.”

ʚ JING YUAN ɞ

You’ve been working closely to the general for a long time now, yet sometimes you can’t help but feel as if Jing Yuan underestimates your capabilities. So when a minor problem arises at the Xianzhou Luofu and the general is called to resolve the situation, Jing Yuan decides to give you the chance you’re so desperately looking for. Besides, even if you fail, it won’t pose any risk for the Alliance.

“But if you do fail, then you shall accommodate my every need for a day,” Jing Yuan warns.

“And if I don’t fail?”

“Then I shall become your retainer for a day.”

To have one of the seven Arbiter-Generals do your every bidding for a day is something straight out of the craziest dream in the whole galaxy. And it shall remain but a hopeless dream, since in the end, Jing Yuan had to bail you out of your predicament.

“Mmm very nice,” the general says, grinning pleased. “Now, a small turn.”

You slowly twirl around yourself, the frill long dress eloquently following your every move. This is already the third dress Jing Yuan has made you put on for him. Smiling sweetly, he hands you the next outfit, this time a fitting blouse and a short mini skirt. He enjoys his afternoon by sipping on some delicious tea and watching you put on a catwalk show for him. He might have made you do it, given he won your bet, but he likes to think you’re doing it on your own volition.

Dolling you up in clothes that leave him mesmerised by your beauty has always been one of the general’s favourite past time activities. He just loves spoiling his princess and dressing her up for his eyes to feast on. To his dismay, Jing Yuan needs to enlist some sneaky tactics to have you indulge him, since more often than not you find some kind of excuse to evade him. And that’s because you know him too well and how he’s going to end your little catwalk show.

You’re not even a bit surprised at the last outfit he’s prepared for you. Can you call it an outfit though when it’s just a sexy lingerie set? When you walk out, the general’s eyes widen the tiniest bit, a sign that he’s surprised. But of course he is, when you’re standing in front of him with your blushed cheeks wearing the white lacy bra and thong he had picked for you. His eyes travel down to your thighs that are clad in matching white above-the-knee socks.

Jing Yuan motions for you to approach him and you take timid steps towards him. Despite having done this countless times, he always makes your heart flutter and your breath become uneven. When you’re close enough to him, he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap, your legs on each side of his thighs straddling him. He leaves soft feathery kisses over your neck, down your collarbone and all over your exposed breasts, smirking at your low moans that echo in his chamber.

“Ride my thigh, love,” Jing Yuan orders in a low and deep tone against your neck.

And you’re a goner, your body moving on its own as you adjust your position over his thigh and start to dry hump yourself on him. His arms snake around you, keeping you close to him, as he captures your lips, muffling your moans. His tongue penetrates your mouth, subjugating yours, while his one hand rests on your hips, grinding you harder on his thigh.

One hand is on the headboard behind his head, giving you some kind of sense of balance, while the other grips his white hair, pulling his locks as you moan against his lips. Jing Yuan feels your wet core soaking his trousers as he buries his face in your breasts, kissing and biting them. He chuckles as your body jolts when he spanks your arse, caressing the stinging spot afterwards.

“Jing Yuan…” you moan, looking at him with pleading eyes and flushed cheeks.

He hungrily feasts on your lips like a famished beast as he makes haste with undoing his trousers and pulling them down. His cock is hard and already leaking some precum. Jing Yuan pulls your thong aside and aligns you with his throbbing length, groaning as you go down, your tight pussy engulfing him. And he stays perfectly still, tilting his head to the side with a small smirk curved on his lips.

You receive his message loud and clear and start bouncing on his cock, your previous frown dissipating as your lips part to moan. Jing Yuan pulls the straps of your bra down, spilling your breasts from their confines and taking one in his mouth. His tongue twirls around your nipple, causing the bud to tighten, then gives the same treatment to the other one.

Jing Yuan allows you to ride him at your own tempo and only interferes like a bloody minx when you’re on the verge of an orgasm. He grips your waist in his strong arms and slows down your movements almost to a halt, laughing at your protests and the curses you throw at him. Your frustrated face with those pouty lips and hazed, glossy eyes is a sight to behold. The general doesn’t mind edging himself, as long as he gets to see this utterly bewitching expression on you.

And when he’s had enough of that expression for now, he orders in a stern voice, “Grab the headboard.”

Yet he barely gives you any time to receive, process and execute his order before he’s thrusting up inside you fast and hard, hitting the spot that has you throw your head back and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. Your grip on the headboard is so strong, your knuckles have turned white. But you don’t care as you shamelessly cream all over the general’s cock that rearranges your guts. Your body convulses in his embrace and you’re crying out his name when your impending orgasm floods you.

ʚ AVENTURINE ɞ

Your mistake was letting him get you to agree to his bet. Gambling is his domain. It’s where Aventurine thrives. It’s something everybody knows. Yet for some reason you forgot all about it in those few seconds when you agreed and shook his hand. You only seemed to have snapped out of your halo when you noticed his wicked smirk.

Your doom was to be expected. Yet Aventurine has to admit that you put up a good game. You were just unlucky to go up against him. But well, in the end, he’s the winner. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?

Aventurine leans back on his seat, as his eyes roam all over you, taking in every little detail about you. His scrutinising gaze makes your cheeks blush and you nervously bite down on your lip. Your nervousness makes him all the more excited to claim his prize, namely you.

“Strip,” he orders, a hint of mischievousness tinting his voice. “Everything but your undergarments.”

And when you freeze before him, looking at him like an idiot, his smile disappears and his gaze darkens. It’s the gaze of a predator about to lunge at its prey. Your body moves on autopilot, discarding your clothes and leaving only your undergarments on as he had requested. His eyes devour you, even though he has yet to touch you. You steal glances of him, noticing lust and desire flash in his eyes behind the frames of his glasses.

Taking his glasses off and leaving them on the poker table, Aventurine motions you to approach him and sits you on his lap. He places a stray strand of hair behind your ear before gently caressing your cheek with his knuckles, his cold rings sending shivers down your spine. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, your body moulding into his. Goosebumps erupt everywhere he touches you and he feels your heart beat like crazy as he kisses your neck. His hand covers your bra-clad breast, squeezing and eliciting a moan from you.

He captures your lower lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to make you tense and your legs clench around him. As if to ease the pain he inflicted, he caresses your lip with his thumb. “I want to feel your lips wrapped around my cock,” he muses, his eyes stuck on your lips. Then, he glances up into your eyes. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

You needn’t be told twice before you slowly stand up, kissing his lips, then his chest through the opening of his shirt, before finally dropping to your knees between his spread legs. Aventurine adjusts himself and relaxes, his eyes following eagerly your every move. You unbutton his trousers and pull it down, revealing his semi-hardened cock. You pepper soft kisses along his length, smearing the tip with precum.

When you take him in your mouth, Aventurine releases a guttural groan. Tentatively, you suck on his girth, while keeping your eyes on him at all times. He finds you utterly perfect like this. Your warm mouth makes him harder the longer he’s buried inside. Your lips leave him and are replaced by your hand, as you tend to his balls, sucking each one in your mouth, blowing his mind and making him throw his head back.

You know he’s close when you feel him tensing under your touch. Your tongue swirls around him, working him to his release. But Aventurine doesn’t let you finish what you started. Standing up, he lifts you up and kisses your lips, tasting himself on you. His hand slides down between your legs and rubs your folds, a smirk curving on his lips at how wet you are. “Such a dirty whore,” he sneers, his lips brushing yours.

The next moment, he bents you over the poker table and positions himself between your spread legs. You gasp when he tears your panties, the torn pieces of fabric falling on the floor. The table rattles when he thrusts inside you, bottoming out. His thrusts are hard and hit deep from the start. Aventurine grabs your hair and peels your upper body off the table, having you support yourself on your hands, as your body curves against his. Your tits bounce and spill out of your bra, as you moan and whimper.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart,” Aventurine breathes. His hand leaves your hair which falls freely all over your back and wraps around your throat, pulling you back to him. “So tight for me,” he muses, biting down on your shoulder.

Your jaw drops to the floor with an inaudible scream as he cums inside you, filling you up with his seed. But he doesn’t stop. He continues pounding into you, a white ring forming around his cock as he fucks his seed back into your eager pussy that clenches around him. Aventurine bents you back down, face down on the poker table and holds your arms behind your back with one hand, while the other grips tightly your hip, slamming your body hard on his.

You cry out his name for everyone to hear as your orgasm comes crashing down on you, which pleases him greatly. Aventurine leans over you without interrupting his rhythm, his hot breath fanning over your ear. “That’s right,” he whispers. “You belong to me, sweetheart. Now and forever.” Because if you thought he’d let you go just like that, you had another thing coming for you.

#୨୧｡˚₊♡꒰ strawchocoberry ꒱♡₊˚｡୨୧ #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #blade #blade x reader #blade smut #sunday #sunday x reader #sunday smut #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut

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staryuee · 1 month

Text

GIVING THEM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread…:3

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . how would your significant other react when you give them a friendship bracelet made by your own kind hands?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, kazuha, kokomi, scaramouche, heizou, itto, cyno, lyney, lynette, freminet, furina, neuvillette, navia, ga ming, chiori, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . this reminded of primary school days of making randomly coloured loom band bracelets…sniffles, the good ol’ days of giving your crush bundled up daisies that had bugs on them from the schools yard and then immediately running away (i am a lesbian i had no such experience in just talking for the sake of poetry ☆〜（ゝ。∂)

R. DILUC — 迪��克

“what’s this, my love?” he cautiously surveyed the tiny strings and charms with a shocked yet rather satisfied expression. so this is what you were so focused on for the last couple hours…? he can’t help but feel slightly relieved that instead of wasting away at work you were merely crafting a cutely childish gift for him.

“it’s a friendship bracelet! look, i even managed to find these cute strawberry charms for you.” you laughed and start fiddling with the short strands near his scalp, fiddling with them and folding them over to create a stem-like shape.

diluc softly exhaled in amusement, wrapping the small piece of jewellery around his already bedazzled wrist. it takes him a real good second to actually realise what you just said. awkwardly coughing into his hand, diluc catches your attention, “darling, you do realise we’re married?”

a smile possesses your face as you hook your arm with his. “of course i do! i just thought it’d be cute, you know?” he smiled in response.

diluc is no stranger to friendship bracelets. after all, him and kaeya used to make those for each other all the time. sometimes that young triplet consisting of a very dedicated jean, a shy kaeya and a mischievous diluc (sometimes a cutsey barbara who tried to eat the beads) would gather together to create and exchange such bracelets.

a tradition that diluc might’ve let go of but had never forgotten. when you go to sleep at night diluc immediately places your bracelet into a drawer where he kept all of the ones from his childhood.

K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶

“is this a friendship bracelet? that’s very considerate of you, my love.” kazuha tilts your chin to press a feather-light kiss onto your lips, his touch so tender it was like being touched by sunlight itself. “but i thought we were passed our journey of friendship?” his hand travel down to your hips. squeezing them intently to bring you close to his flowery scent.

“or do i need to remind you that we’re lovers?” taking your hand in his, kazuha leaned his head down to press his lips against your knuckles, eyes peeking through his bangs as if to entice you. and, well, of course it did. kazuha knew just a simple glance at you paired with an affectionate grin was enough to lure you into loving his arms.

kazuha didn’t expect for a piece of handmade jewellery consisting of maple leaf charms with red string to become so sentimental to him, but it was only a matter of time till the bracelet helped become an engraved memory of you. he’d kiss it each time you were apart, hold it up against moonlight while stargazing, trying to illustrate your figure within a constellation.

wandering became more exciting. he’d get to slowly part from your lips, while still having a perpetual reminder of the love you shared with a few pieces of strings tied to his wrist alone.

kazuha, though content with this, always secretly craved to hear the sound of your voice as you called his name and reached out to him. however, within his life he’s learned one thing that has truly stood out; it’s the small things in life that mirror true beauty.

S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海

“your excellency? what is that on your wrist?” gorou tilted his head curiously, his ears twitching in tandem.

“hm? oh, this?” she shakes the coral coloured bracelet, making the beads and fish charms jingle excitedly as if they were jumping within sea waves. “haha, [name] gave it to me. it’s a friendship bracelet!” kokomi shows it off with pride, a flutter of flapping fins hit her ribcage in the form of her beating heart at the prospect of people seeing the deepness of your ocean-depth bond with just a few beads on a string.

burnout is utterly debilitating. as kokomi spends only a few minutes in her recluse corner within watatsumi, even the shimmering of pearls and the quiet sound of the shore isn’t enough to bring her fragmented energy to rest. nesting her head upon the bundled arms that laid carefully on her desk, she attempted to snooze. finding that she can just barely flutter her curled eyelashes close before an unbearable ache pinches her eyebrows into a knot.

feeling defeated, kokomi sits back up and taps her fingers absentmindedly on the wood, finding just a tiny bit of solace in the sound of clicking and clacking. wait…she quickly glanced at her wrist, noticing she completely forgot to take off her bracelet when preforming her duties. despite her fatigue, kokomi can’t help but exhale a smile. calloused fingers tweezing the bubbly fish charms in an attempt for stimuli that wasn’t so agonising.

she’s so glad she has you, even if that memory of you is withheld in something children share for an intended promise of foreverness.

SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐

“are you twelve?“ scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you with a sneer, a look of either disgust or confusion on his face. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were mocking me.”

“you’re short but not kid short!” you retorted to appease him, rolling your eyes at his annoying theatrics. did he really have to be so bitchy all the time? i guess when people say that short people tend to be the most angry because all that wrath is bottled into such a teeny body it’s very true…

the friendship bracelets (yes you made two!) were a representation of his journey from the malicious “balladeer” to the slightly less malicious and more so bittersweet wanderer. a contradicting colour palette yet his frosty and asshole attitude remained the same no matter what hue of the rainbow he was dipped in (should’ve been named skittle not scaramouche).

“if you don’t like it that much you don’t have to wear it, it’s not like i’m forcing you.” a pang of disappointed squeezed your chest heavily. it would’ve been fine if he just threw it away after a week or so. you would’ve been extremely hurt yes, but it’s better than having your own lover reject a handmade gift without even a thought for your feelings.

seeing your frown lines and the way your eyebrows scrunched together, scaramouche sighed and immediately snatched the bracelets back. quickly covering them over his wrist and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “i never said i wouldn’t wear it, stop being whiny.”

the slight embarrassment he felt was worth every stroke of blush on his cheeks if it meant he could see you smile brightly at something so childish.

S. HEIZOU — 鹿野院平藏

“it’s not our anniversary.” heizou stated simply.

“nope.”

“neither of our birthdays.”

“nope.”

“not a special achievement either.”

“nope.”

“alright, love, spill. what’s the occasion, hm? just in the mood to spoil me with your affections?” heizou threw his hands up in defeat. not being able to use his detective experience into deciphering why you decided to be so cute today and bless his otherwise uneventful day.

carefully, you wrapped the bracelet around his eager wrist. “no occasion~ just felt like giving you a friendship bracelet to show my love for you.” he raises an eyebrow. leaning to your eye level, heizou procures a look of confused distaste at your seemingly innocent admission. “friendship?” he looks away dejected, placing his hands on his hips. “and here i thought i was your very cool and sweet boyfriend.”

brushing away his dramatics and looping your arms around his neck to pull his pouty face in closer, you retaliate. “oh hush, you’re still my lovely dramatic boyfriend.” heizou smirked and leaned in impossibly close, his breath tickling your soft skin generously.

“then, could you show your love for me in another way too?” begrudgingly, you caved. moulding your lips with his while his hands gradually situated themselves on your hips. a chuckle escapes his occupied mouth, leaving a tingling feeling down your spine as you pull away, a bright smirk on his face. “thanks for the bracelet, baby~ i’ll be sure to wear it as my lucky charm during investigations!”

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“well of course you’d want to bless the almighty arataki itto with such a gift! i humbly accept your offering~” itto sways a thumbs up, tongue rolling across his pointy teeth in an extravagant display of confident hubris. all in vain, of course. no amount of bravado could dull the charming blush on his cheeks; the way his grin hoisted into a genuine smile of gratitude or the way his eyes glistened with a familiar light; childlike wonder.

itto was never and has never been accustomed to such small things in life. honestly, he was lucky for a stranger to not throw insults, physical objects, hits, kicks, spit, and the like for his mere existence. a friendship bracelet was an event that was so far out of reach for the oni that the only thing he wanted to do right now was to kiss you stupid.

but, he couldn’t. he stood still, twiddling with the beads that nested against his wrist with a haze that was absentminded you felt like tapping him would cause a bubble to burst above his head for water to splash him awake.

the word “friend” doesn’t even register into his brain. he’s too content with the knowledge that your bond meant something to you. that he meant something to you.

you’ve never seen itto so quiet before. he’s usually this giant (literally) ball of energy that bounces around the place and shares an infectious attitude of confidence and joy with no restraint even to the most stoic, but right now, it was like he was that small vulnerable child again given a chance at redemption for simply living.

CYNO — 赛诺

cyno tilts his head to the side as he stares with pinched brows at the weaved threads of purple and yellow beads and charms that you held in front of you with a delicate hand. “what’s the bracelet for?”

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” taking the initiative, you wrap the bracelet around his relatively small wrist and watch in awe as it seems to match his palette perfectly. perhaps not his personality, but maybe if he wore this around regularly people wouldn’t be so frightened by his frozen features.

cyno went quiet for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. a look that made you shrink in shame. did he not like it? was something wrong with it? is it too childish for someone with such an esteemed status? all such baseless thoughts get immediately dispelled once cyno’s lips curl into a subtle grin, his eyes narrowing devilishly.

you’ve often seen this look when he’s about to score a rewarding win in a tcg tournament. but, he also had this look when…fuck. you sigh in defeat and simply let him say it. “why did the friendship bracelet break up with its partner?”

“…ha. why?”

“because it felt tied down.”

you know how in animes when someone says something very fucking stupid, it’s like the world echoes with silence to allow the person to truly feel the embarrassment from their words? you hoped that’s what cyno felt when you blank stared him with a thin line for your lips, hands clenching and unclenching as you fought the urge to squeeze his cheeks together.

“do you get it?” he asks, but before he can ramble about the absolutely articulate construction of his pun, you spring into action and press your lips passionately on his. of course, he replies eagerly. enjoying the clicking of the beads hitting together as his hand made it’s swift, instinctive movement to your waist.

LYNEY — 林尼

“mon ange…is this for me?” lyney smiles gently at you, sneaking the red bracelet onto his wrist. unable to take his away from the fine craftsmanship and the adorable details of hats, doves and some card charms. knowing you thought of him so directly and so in depth made his heart flutter the same way a dove’s wings expand after being liberated from a cooped cage.

“of course it is, it’s a friendship bracelet!” you clasp your hands behind your back, awaiting either his praise or his teasing — whatever he was in the mood for more. despite the happiness that surged through his heart like a bad game of throw the dart, believe me you shot him hard in the feels, lyney frowns.

“but, mon chéri…” he sighs in despair, a theatric hand over the very heart you had gripped tightly in your hand with a mere few beads of coloured wax. “i haven’t gotten a gift for you, i feel rather ashamed of myself.”

“don’t worry about that, this is just meant to be my good luck charm for you during your shows and…” your voice trailed off to him. not because he was uninterested but because he loved the buzzing sound of your melodic syllables each time your lips opened.

“ah, my dear,” lyney paused your affectionate rambles politely, “you’ve got something here…” you tilt your head to the side quizzically and await for him to point at it or take it out. he grins wildly. “well, isn’t that cute?” lyney chuckles softly and while leaning suuuper close to your ear, ‘magically’ pulls out a rainbow rose from seemingly no where.

“it seems we’re even now, hm?” he gestures, handing the rose over with a wink, leaving a cheeky kiss to your jawline in gratitude.

LYNETTE — 琳妮特

knowing lynette’s character and demeanour intricately, you’re aware that grand gestures aren’t at all her thing. she can barely handle a tea time conversation with someone if she’s forced to play an active role.

the bracelet sat enclosed within your palm as you rambled on about your day to lynette, feeling an unshakable amount of anxiety vomiting into your gut for no reason but overthinking. you’ve been avoiding giving her this bracelet for a week now in fear she’ll find very little value or use in something so minimal.

“you have something you want to give me.” a phrase intended as a question, but said more so as a statement.

“i…uh, how did you know?” you laugh and play with the strings of the bracelet cautiously as to not break it.

“your eyebrows are furrowed and you keep glancing away from me.” she analyses you like a real robot…i guess she’s really committed to that bit. either that or she just loves you too much that being unable to read your expressions would be a grievous sin on her part.

with a sigh of defeat, you slide over the bracelet to her with an awkward smile paling your usually joyous lips. “i made a friendship bracelet for you…thought it’d be cute.” lynette doesn’t understand people around her a majority of the time. truly, she doesn’t even want to, it’s not like she needs to either since she has her brother to leech on and others to fool with her robotic party trick and yet, she can’t help but wonder why it is you choose to defend yourself over something so sweet.

“thank you, it’s cute. i’ll wear it for my next show if i’m able to.” her lips curve upward in what to most would seem like a twenty degree uplift, but to you, it meant quite literally everything.

FREMINET — 菲米尼

nothing. no amount of experiences with his interactions with people could’ve prepared him for the absolute heart attack that was this gesture.

he loved it, too much. he wishes he could just dip back into the ocean depths. indulge in a meaningless conversation with the tidalga, or even express his feelings of adoration to you to pers. but currently, it was only you two sharing a humble moment together. no person he could lean in, no space he could rush the words he’d love to say to you in gratitude for the gift.

and you knew that. and that’s what he also loved about you. how willing you were to accept and love him even with him being less socially adept than a coral reef. feeling the cool and vibrant coloured bracelet tilt around his wrist and knot in place, he smiled wobbly.

between the silence, you knew that the quiet smile and nod meant more than his stammered and hushed words could ever express. leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his wrist and cheek, freminet manages to gulp a bit of courage and swallow his static and tingly anxiety, reaching to kiss your forehead. letting his lips linger momentarily before he backed away. “thank you…”

FURINA — 芙宁娜

heartbeat pounding in her ears. eyes narrowing into puffy circles. her bottom lip bitten brutally by her gnashing teeth. hands shaky, making her teacup tremble within her grip. why were you glaring at her so intensely?!

first the invitation for a tea party with only you two as the special guests. second the ominous letter claiming you two “need to talk.” and now, you were completely quiet and calmly snacking, drinking away several blends of tea without a word! it was absolutely ridiculous to think the one person she has entrusted her still mending heart with is ignoring all the clear signs of hesitance and vulnerabilities within the relationship despite them all being initiated by them!

“so, furina.” you clasp your hands together, an impish look transforming your usually peaceful face. her heartbeat stammers as her eyes meet yours in a tender glance. “uhm..yeah?” furina attempts to appear more courageous than she is, but truly, she’s shitting it (for lack of a better term).

the silence stretched on for too long before you giggled and pulled up a blue and white toned bracelet from your sleeves, shaking it with your fingertips with a kind smile. “i made you a friendship bracelet!”

a ghost wavered out of her frightened soul, the tea in her hand put down at this point so she can savour the comforting feeling of her head in her hands. being a gorgeous, shining star in the spotlight of fontaine’s grand stage, furina isn’t a secondhand stranger to gifts. whether they’ve been given to her personally, awkwardly, silently, with no words signed or a creepy letter attached expressing their reverence.

she wishes you’d sometimes go that route instead of matching her in these theatrics! begrudgingly, despite the little flutter in her heart, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and looked at you with a pout that you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

neuvillette hums a tune along to the orchestra of the vinyl. an accompanying sound of his pen hastily itching onto the paper adding to the rhythm. his door opens and while he’d normally remain quietly focused on his piling paperwork, he recognised this particular patter of footsteps coming towards him. you.

smiling habitually and peering his head up, neuvillette greeted you lovingly. “hello, my love. what brings you here today? did you get in trouble?” he knew the reason you’d come ushering into his office was hardly with the intention of getting him to aid you with your troublesome quarrels, but rather, you just wanting his love and affection that he was more than willing to fulfil. if time allowed, of course.

“no, no. nothing like that, yet…” you grinned and neuvillette looked at you with a playful look of disappointment at the hesitance. “i made you a gift!” with a prideful aura that was less arrogance and more pure joy, you presented the bracelet to him. he wasted no time in stirring the small bundle of fabric and beads with his gloves. “look,” you pointed eagerly, “i even managed to commission some furina and melusine charms! you know how we always joke about them being like our children? i thought i’d be a cute addition!”

he exhaled a satisfactory laugh in agreement, interlocking your hand in his to press a kiss to your knuckles in thanks. “cute, indeed. thank you, mon chéri. you’re too sweet sometimes.” you sit on the edge of his desk, watching excitedly as he places the bracelet onto his wrist. “as a gift in return, after i’m done with work, how about we take a nice stroll together? i assure you, no rain will interrupt our serenity so long as you’re by my side.”

NAVIA — 娜维娅

immediately gushes at you as your palm opens to present the gold and blue hued bracelet to her, adorned with rose charms that you personally painted in gold and a greyish blue to accentuate her outfit if she decides to wear it. it was less a decision and more a necessity.

she delicately handled the bracelet onto her wrist and kissed both of your cheeks in gratitude, “thank you so much, sweetheart! this is so cute…but what’s the occasion? it’s not our anniversary or anything like that.” navia smiled at you, playing with some of the little roses and twirling them around in appreciation.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!”

her lips pucker into a pout as she starts to coddle you within her arms, occasionally swinging you around gently. “you’re so absolutely adorable!” she nips at your earlobe, kissing it as a form of apology. “but honey, you do know we aren’t just friends right?” navia captures your cheeks within her palms. “we’re lovers!” she presses several kisses across your face, ending her affectionate spillage with a press of her lips on yours.

“oops— haha, sorry i got lipstick all over you, darling.” navia chuckled and began wiping away all the lipstick smudges from your pretty face. yet her attempts bore no fruit. instead of wiping away anything, she only made it oh so much worse. “ah well, guess we both got presents from one another today?” she snickers, twirling her wrist to show off the bracelet with a wink.

GA MING — 嘉明

if you thought this man’s eyes couldn’t get any brighter, then you’re absolutely dead wrong. if you thought he could jump high while lion dancing, you’re also absolutely dead wrong!

he could outrun god right now. if you asked him to defeat a hoard of lined up mondstadt and liyue treasure hoarders, he’d do it in a heartbeat. what possessed you to be so cute?! do you seriously think he can take another heart attack like this after the one he had during lantern rite?

you aren’t able to say much or even explain your reasons for as to why you decided to make this nor what it even is or represents before ga ming smacks his lips messily all over your face. a mixture of your own gloss from kissing you earlier and his own saliva stick to your skin sloppily and you can’t help but feel both enamoured and grossly repulsed at the mixture of sticky wetness on your cheeks as well as the love that seemed to glow like fireworks.

“mmuah~! i love you so much…are you trying to make me cry?” he pouts, becoming a giggling mess as soon as you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

he keeps the bracelet on every day. sometimes he’ll be pouty all day if he’s unable to wear it in fear of it snapping and wasting away all your precious hard work due to either his negligence or the pains of manual labour…he’ll have to cope with simply glancing at the red imprints the beads had left intended onto his skin for satisfaction.

CHIORI — 千织

“what is this?” she jingles the vivid and strong orange coloured bracelet in front of her face, appreciating the tiny details of the cute sewing equipment charms and what looked to be handmade porcelain bows embedded onto some beads.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” you gleam at her, pride evident in your face at your creation. she hums in agreement; it was certainly something alright.

“oh. cute.” that’s all the genuine feedback she could give you without mentioning how tacky it would look with her attire — it was an affectionate gesture, one which she didn’t want to undermine and therefore, with little complaint despite her own personal conflicts, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, extending her hand out and twirling it to admire the craftsmanship.

you won’t see her actively wearing it out in every day life, perhaps you’ll manage to sneak a glimpse of her playing with the beads while she’s going over some designs in her sketchbook but otherwise, her gloved hands contain nothing but the smell of perfume.

not that she’d admit it outright until you asked, but the real reason she refuses to wear your bracelet daily is for a simple reason; she doesn’t want it to break in order to have that constant reminder of you as she goes to bed and stares up at her ceiling with the bracelet being coddled between her fingertips.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

“you’re so childish.” she muses, tracing her nails across the beads, eliciting a weird clacking sound as the charms and beads hit against each other. “but i suppose that’s also an alluring aspect to you.” she ushers the bracelet onto her wrist. despite it being completely covered, there was something even more intimate about her gift being a part of a hidden identity for her; your affection only intended for your gorgeous eyes and her narrowed ones.

tilting your head to her eye-level, you can smell her musky perfume. she leaned in for a kiss. her lips tasting like flavoured gloss consisting of all sorts of red berries, an accurate mirror to the rosey colour of her bright lips. a sneaky hand traced circles around your hips and waist as she attempted to take your breath away. a scythe is a befitting weapon for a woman who’s kiss was practically a notion for death.

she’s used to her children offering gifts and trinkets to her. rocks, random jewellery they crafted with glue, messy crayon drawings, sometimes even in the most macabre scenarios, blood itself. each of those, however, she cherished wholeheartedly. the same way she’d cherish the bond between you two that she’d never allow for anyone to break.

so long as she continuously receives silly gestures like this, she’s convinced she’ll be able to hold you within her embrace with very little effort.

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