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#trans male reader
thelurchinghound · 5 months
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ftm reader getting fucked by two monsters shoving their knots deep in his little cunt whiile hes tied up and just takes it
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[Request info] - [Navigation]
Gender: FTM reader
Kinks/Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con(?), knotting, DP (double penetration), Dacryphilia, Teratophilia, Words like cunt, pussy, clit, etc used for reader. Hinted at werewolf monsters but I left it vague.
A/n: BRUH, I love this request, again I left the monsters up to the reader but I was thinking of my werewolf pack ocs. It took a little longer than I thought it would but it's fine. Kinda rushed at the end!
| OC(s) used: Monroe & Quinn | Words: 453 | Proofread by @bunnyscone | NSFW |
By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you're fine with reading my content (Don't like? Don't read and scroll.)
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"There you go, baby boy."
Monroe forced his cock farther into your pussy, stretching it out even more. A groan slipped from his maw, his tongue darting out to lick at your perky nipples. A small cry leaving your lips from the intrusion in your pussy.
"Can you hurry it up?" Quinn growled out, his claws digging into your plush thigh skin. Small red lines form in the trail of them. His cock throbs with need against your thigh, a knot at the base of his cock already swelling up, and he hasn't even started fucking you yet.
"No, I'll take however long I want to savior our little guest here." Monroe quips back, glowering down at Quinn. The two beasts start bickering back and forth, all while you are unhurriedly thrust into by Monroe. They sounded like two brothers arguing over a toy. Quinn was lying under you, your back to his chest, Monroe above you, tugging at one of Quinn's pointy ears.
Each thrust was slow and gentle, a surprise for how big and burly the monster was. Monroe's giant clawed hands hold onto the ropes that had you tied up, unable to move. You could do nothing against Monroe's ministrations or when Quinn slid his hand down to your pussy. His thumb started to rub your sensitive bud while the bigger man still thrust into you. Quinn's other hand holds open your trembling thighs from his place under you, chuckling slightly when your back arches off him.
"You said that last time with the last human!" 
That exclamation only got an eye-roll from Monroe, his sharp claws drilling further into the plush skin of your thighs. An annoyed grunt coming from on top of you. "God, you are insufferable. Like a yapping chihuahua that won't shut up." 
After a few minutes of the two going back and forth arguing about fucking you, Monroe ultimately relents. "Fine, fine! Whatever!" He says in a rolling growl, moving to spread open your thighs for Quinn. The smaller beast positioned his cock right at your stretched entrance, though, unlike Monroe, he doesn't push in slowly. Like an excited pup, he thrusts himself in. You were already stretched from Monroe's cock, but now with both cocks inside your dripping cunt it felt like you could've been split open. Their knots pressed together as they started to thrust. At first, it was graceless, but gradually, they got a rhythm down. 
Their thrust started getting harder, knots slipping in with every push in and out. The cave around them filled with grunts and moans of pleasure as the two beasts ravaged your tight cunt. Until they finally spilled inside you, their fat knots locking their cum inside.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months
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The Werewolf's Pet Cat
Trans Male Yandere Werewolf x Trans Male Cat-hybrid Reader (CW: Noncon, mild scent kink, knotting, inhuman genitals, heat cycles, rut, werewolf yandere, reader being chased, trans male reader and yandere, yandere has transitioned via magic, general yandere behavior.) Word Count 2.1k (This is a commission for @trocha1c. I hope you guys enjoy it. Also this is not an omegaverse fic, there is knotting because the yandere is a werewolf and there is a heat cycle for the reader because they are part feline, sense of smell is mentioned because of their animal abilities, but there are no alphas or omegas in this universe.)
There were many servants in any castle, even in a smaller one like the one that you worked in still contained a sizable workforce. The dusting alone was an atrocious task. You would know, you were one of those numerous servants. Though you were the only one who was a cat-man.
Your tasks were largely various cleaning oriented jobs including dusting, sweeping, laundry, and occasionally bringing food from the kitchen to Lord Dran when he decided to have his meals outside of the kitchen.
That’s the task you enjoyed the most, it meant you got to be in his presence. He always smelled so nice. So… masculine. Even with your sensitive feline nose you couldn’t quite place what it was.
You had worked for him for about a year and you had been almost supernaturally attracted to him since the first time you met him. Of course… despite being a somewhat uncommon cat man you were still very much a commoner. And he was a lord.
You could never hope to be anything to him.
This wasn’t an incorrect line of thinking. Lord Dran was very much attracted to you as well. He could tell you were a kindred soul. He also possessed superior senses and he knew that even though you were a boy you had a pussy between your legs, and he could smell its arousal whenever you stayed in the room with him for any extended length of time.
He was once like you, a man with those parts, until he had paid a lot of money for a mage to conduct a complex ritual to give him the body he had always wanted. The fact that you were both trans made him want you much more. You’d understand him more than others.
But despite his deep seated longing for you he would have to be satisfied with stolen glances, your scent, and impure thoughts he harbored towards you, for he couldn’t ever deign to be with a commoner.
He had to use his position as a lord to solidify a political alliance for his family and strengthen the family position.
You were completely oblivious to his long stares and extra kindness towards you. In the end it didn’t matter though. They couldn’t amount to anything.
But the royal family, or at least his branch of it had a terrible secret. They were no longer human. They were all werewolves. Once a month during the full moon Lord Dran retreated to a fortified private room and grew into a large ravenous beast. One from nightmares, with a hunger for fresh game and with an instinctual need to find a mate to stuff its big knot into.
You didn’t have something so dramatic to struggle with, you only had a monthly heat cycle. They weren’t really all that bad, you just became significantly more horny, more sensitive to the scents of others, and a bit feverish. Nothing you couldn’t handle.
But it just so happened that your heat cycle coincided with the full moon.
One night, a full moon no less, you had been working late in the great hall cleaning up after earlier festivities. When you finished you headed for the servant’s quarters but for some reason you had made a wrong turn. And you were much closer to the room that no one ever went into. The one that always remained locked.
When you realized where you were you started to turn back but something alluring with a hint of danger hit your heat-enhanced nose and you were compelled to follow.
You got closer and closer to the door. What was that amazing smell? It was so strong now… and starting to cause you to make a wet spot from the arousal it was generating in you.
Suddenly you heard a muffled scream of pain through the thick door. You ran over to it and found that it was locked from the outside and through the glass panel you saw Lord Dran naked on the ground writhing in pain.
You immediately unlocked the heavy metal door and made your way inside, running to him with utmost concern.
“What’s wrong my lor-”
“Y-you… don’t.. under… stand… g-get ouuOOWWWLLLLL”
His last word turned into a pained howl as his body shook. His bones and muscles rearranged themselves before your very eyes as thick fur covered his body.
The seemingly human Lord Dran was a werewolf! A cursed Beast!
To say you were terrified was a gross understatement. Your heart was beating so fast that it hurt. Quickly, you turned to flee the room so you could lock the monster in behind you. But the speed of the werewolf was far superior to your own. He grabbed your leg, long claws raking against your supple skin, causing you to flop down on your belly.
It was at that exact moment that a shocked guard rounded the corner and saw the scene, you crying on your stomach, being pulled closer by his transformed Lord.
He had been given the duty to protect the door from anyone who may get too close, but he had left his post for a few minutes to take a leak.
And now this had happened.
You looked up at him standing in the doorway and screamed for his help, but when he got over the fear that paralyzed him he stammered out a quick apology and slammed the door before sliding the heavy lock in place, quite literally sealing your fate. He just couldn’t risk Lord Dran being released to save but one lowly servant.
The guard was sure you were going to perish in a horrifying display of blood and gore. YOU were sure you were going to perish in a horrifying display of blood and gore.
But a violent blow never came. Instead the beast flipped you over on your back and sniffed curiously at your crotch, nuzzling his nose into it. You desperately kicked away his face, but his angry growl was enough to make you stop.
The werewolf had determined that you were his mate, and while you didn’t know it yet he would never harm his partner. But… he also wouldn’t be denied his right to stuff them with his knot.
With extreme care not to harm your fragile skin, he carefully used his razor sharp claws to remove your clothing from your quivering form. You didn’t immediately understand exactly what his intentions with you were but it became clear what he wanted when he loomed over you and saw his large red cock erect and swinging beneath him. He pinned you down easily.
You shuddered as his cold nose nuzzled into your sensitive neck, taking in your sweet scent.
As his dick got closer to your entrance you renewed your struggle, forgetting the strength of the creature that was holding you down and the perceived danger he represented.
“No! No please! I-i don-”
This time he didn’t respond with a growl, instead opting to lick your neck to try and calm you down. He wasn’t going to hurt his little mate~ He just wanted to fuck you and take care of that heat cycle he could smell so clearly. He was helping you!
Encouraged by the whimpers his tongue on your neck brought out of you he started biting. Not hard enough to break skin, but they would still leave lovely little claiming marks.
The combination of stimulation from the bites, your heat, and his scent finally caused you to spread your legs for him, you barely registered what you were allowing as his cock plunged into your drooling pussy with an audible squelching noise.
With your tight wet warmth enveloping him his knot began swelling inside of you, making your toes curl and twitch as it kissed the walls of your cunt with every powerful thrust of your Lord.
Some part of your brain was still telling you to scream for help and cry and try to struggle, but it felt so nice to finally have a heat taken care of.
You wrapped your arms and legs around him, grinding your pussy into his dick, as he continued biting you wherever he could leave a nice claiming mark.
The two of you went at it nearly all night, bringing one another to orgasm many times over.
At some point, very late into the night, you passed out from exhaustion with the lycanthrope holding you close, nutting in you a couple more times before finally falling asleep himself. With his knot still tying the two of you together as he caressed you.
When Lord Dran woke up he was his normal human self, holding you in his arms.
He freaked out about the situation, but as soon as the guard informed him what had happened and he had a moment to reflect he knew what he had to do.
Regardless of your social status he would have to keep you very close at all times to ensure that you never speak of his “condition” to a single soul.
When you finally woke up you were confused and sore, covered in bite marks and a few scratches. When the memory of what had transpired last night finally rushed back to you, terror gripped your heart once more.
Lord Dran was a werewolf, and he had scratched you! Would you become a cursed beast yourself?
“Oh you’re awake! We have a lot to discuss…”
The first thing he explained, as if he could read your thoughts, was that lycanthropy passed via bloodlines and complex curses. Nothing physical.
That was a relief.
The next thing he explained was that he could never let you leave his side now. You’d have to marry him and there was simply no other solution. He could not risk his secret getting out. Even if the chance of someone believing you was small.
“I am so sorry this happened to you.”
Though to be honest he was quite happy. The his to any social status was worth it to have a mate that he can be with with no danger when his time of the month came around. He was sure he would have slaughtered anyone else, but you were so special. With you there he could focus on fucking instead of violent urges, it was more than he could ever have hoped for.
Just a day ago if you had been told you would soon be in a relationship with Lord Dran you would have been elated, but now you were just terrified. You didn’t want to marry a werewolf. You had sympathy for his situation, but this is not the kind of thing you thought that you could deal with.
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ONE MONTH LATER.
It had been days since you had managed to escape the castle. With your keen animal-like senses you managed to be able to hunt and forage enough with yourself to get by. Plus you had managed to keep a bit of gold with you, just in case.
You wanted to make it to the next kingdom, but the way was long and the woods were dense. You probably had another week of travel before making it across the border. No nobles from your home country would dare cross without notice.
Night was fast approaching so you decided you would make camp until the first light of dawn. You were once again in heat so you slid a couple of your fingers into your pussy to take the edge off.
While you were masturbating you suddenly heard what sounded like branches breaking close by. You pulled your pants up and listened intently, your feline ears moving to try and locate the source of the sound.
Probably just an ani-
Your thought was interrupted by a great and blood curdling howl. And it was exceedingly close. Was it a wild wolf? Was it something… more? You didn’t stay to find out.
With your animal-like agility you wasted no time in running out into the dark. You could probably manage to outrun a wolf.
But the shadowy figure you saw pursuing you in the moonlight was no wolf.
And now that you were down wind you could smell it too.
Lord Dran.
In no time at all you were pounced upon, claws once again removing clothing and a huge erection prodding at your entrance.
Ah, his mate was already nice and warmed up for him~ How sweet!
His wolf form didn’t understand why his mate had run, but that didn’t matter now. The chase was won and he certainly would never let you have another chance at escape.
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mitoad · 30 days
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l1tw1ck · 8 months
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Blind Date
bottom!ftm reader x top!step dad (Joel Miller, William Afton, Enji Todoroki, etc.)
AFAB Language Used (cunt, pussy, t-dick)
CW: Jealousy, Quickie, Daddy Kink, Creampie
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When your step father found out you were going on a blind date, the anger and jealousy he felt was very obvious. He's very possessive and doesn't like the idea of other people thinking they have a chance with you. You reassured him that you have no intention of going out with whoever you're meeting, you're only going because your friend’s been begging you to go for ages. You couldn't tell them you're in a relationship because then they'd get curious and find out you're dating your step dad. That wouldn't turn out so well so you decided to just go and get it over with.
“I'm going out now.” You go to unlock the door. He presses his crotch up against your ass and grinds into you.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” He pulls your pants down along with your underwear and does the same to himself. He slides his hard cock in between your thighs and slowly thrusts along your cunt. He strokes your t-dick as he softly sucks on your neck.
“Mmh- make it quick-” You moan. He slips his dick inside of you and doesn't waste any time waiting for you to adjust. You told him to make it quick after all. You press your hands against the wall and moan as he pounds into you.
“Don't let him touch you.” He says, voice low and dominant. “I don't want to even imagine his hands on your body.”
“I won't-” You let out a gasp. “I promise, Daddy-”
“Good boy. Wish I could claim you and show everyone who you belong to.” He kisses your cheek. “You know what would make me feel better?” A smirk grows on his face. You hum. “If you let me come inside you.” He slows down.
“I won't have time to clean up.”
“Who said you would clean it up?”
You blush and bite your lip. He wants you to go to the date with his cum inside you. Fuck. “Okay.”
He slams into you a few times before ejaculating, plastering the walls of your pussy with his cum.
You pull up your pants and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
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blitzyn · 5 months
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welcome home
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leon s. kennedy x ftm!reader
request: Is it possible for you to do a Leon Kennedy x ftm reader where Leon's been away for months and it's just sweet sex? Maybe a hint of cockwarming(Leon falling asleep while still inside), loads of praise and just in general body worship stuff! - Anonymous
synopsis: leon comes back home after being months away for a mission and he's eager to feel you again
a/n -> this was actually my first time writing cunnilingus i was STRUGGLING but all in all this was exciting to do i had fun. anyways alhaitham next i haven't done him in a while. ALSO. IM SORRY I KEEP CHANGING THEMES AND USERS 💔
wc -> 2.4k
cw -> cunnilingus, fingering, praise, p in v sex, cockwarming, ftm reader - use of the word 'pussy' and 'cunt' for reader's genitalia, brief description of top surgery scars, soft leon (heart eyes), not beta read
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It was silent when Leon finally made his way back home, the soft moonlight shone brightly, as if treading a path for him.
He was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of your body in his arms as he held you tightly, to smell the scent of your hair, and to hear the sound of your laughter that sent butterflies to his stomach no matter how many times he's heard it.
His keys jangled loudly in the silent night as he unlocked the front door, swiftly entering the house to make his way upstairs. He knew you were asleep since the lights weren't on, as made evident by your figure covered in blankets. Slowly, he made his way closer before sitting on his side of the bed, creating a dip in the mattress. Gently, tenderly, he reached out and shook your shoulder, chuckling softly at the sight of you taking a moment to stare at him.
Your drowsy eyes lit up in instant recognition as you sat up eagerly to take him in your arms in a tight hug.
"It's good to see you again, [Name]," he said, burying his nose in your hair to breathe in your scent. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, Leon," you said, relief flooding through your veins, grateful to see him home. Reluctantly, you pulled away, watching the way his eyes darted all across your face to take in your features. "You've been gone for so long. I was so worried you'd..."
"I know, sweetheart," he muttered, cupping your cheeks to gently rub them with his thumbs. "And I'm sorry for that."
You nodded, holding onto his wrists. He took a second to gaze into your eyes before he pressed his lips against yours, cherishing the way they melded together with practiced ease. You sighed contentedly, leaning into him to deepen the kiss.
In need of air, you moved back, only for Leon to follow after you, refusing to take his lips off of you just yet.
"Hey—Leon!" You laughed, trying to tilt your head away from his onslaught of kisses. "I still need to breathe."
"Your lungs can wait," he jokingly said, chasing after your lips. You leaned back far enough to lie down, rendering you unable to resist his affection any longer. Not that you wanted to, anyway. Soon enough, he found himself on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face—on your forehead, nose, eyelids, cheeks, and lips before moving downward towards your neck.
At first, they were innocent, but when he tilted his head and sucked on the piece of flesh that pulled a moan from you, you knew then that neither of you would be getting much sleep tonight.
"Leon," you gasped out, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair. "You just got back... Aren't you tired?"
"Honestly, yeah," he admitted, sliding his hands over your shirt to caress your waist. "But I'll be fine," he muttered against the column of your throat, pressing his lips to it for a chaste kiss before sitting up.
"The question is, are you tired?" He asked, scanning your expression for any lies you might've tried to hide. "I don't wanna push you."
You shook your head reassuringly despite having woken up not too long ago. "I'm good. Don't worry about me."
He let out an amused huff through his nose, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smirk. "No promises." He gently tugged on your shirt in a silent request to take it off, swiftly pulling it up and over your head as soon as you nodded.
"Christ, Leon, your hands are cold!" You let out a surprised yelp, arching your back in a futile attempt to get away. He only laughed, sliding his hands all over your stomach mercilessly to use your body heat to warm them up until you finally relaxed.
He leaned down again, gently biting on a spot over your collarbone as he ran his tongue over it soothingly. He moved again, kissing a trail down your sternum until he took one of your perky nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. You bit your lip, watching him toy with your chest, running his fingertips along your scars. A heat pooled in your stomach as he slid lower, finding himself slotted between your legs. He watched your face intently, burying his thumbs underneath the waistband of your pants to slowly pull them off upon finding no disapproval from you, his breath hitching at the sight of your cunt.
"Fuck..." He whispered, blowing a teasing puff of air onto your clit, lips quirking up when you shivered. "Missed you and this pretty pussy," he groaned, hiking your thighs up and over his shoulders. Electricity shot down your spine when he looked up at you and gave it a quick kiss before encasing his lips around it, sucking gently.
You sighed, reaching down to comb your fingers through his hair. He hummed in response, curling his arms around your thighs to keep your legs open, squeezing the swell of them with his calloused hands. He moved down to give your pussy a long lick from your hole all the way back up to your clit and down again, savoring the taste of your juices on his tongue. He looked up through his lashes to gauge your reaction, feeling his cock throb in his pants as he softly ground his hips against the mattress.
You let out a moan when he pressed his face firmly against your cunt, eagerly sucking and flicking his tongue up and down your clit. Pressing your heels against his back, you rocked your hips, tightening your hold on his hair as you tugged on the strands.
He let go of one of your thighs, pressing two of his fingers against your hole, swiping upwards to gather some of your wetness before pushing them inside, groaning against your nub when you clenched around them. He curled them, searching for that one spot inside you that'll have you cumming in no time.
A subtle grin lifted his face when he saw you jerk, legs twitching, before diving back down to your clit. He was gentle but relentless at the same time—a blend that had you reeling for more.
"Fuck, Leon," you moaned, squirming. Your belly heaved as you looked down with half-lidded eyes, meeting his.
"That's it, baby," he muttered against your skin, giving it a harsh suck. "Moan my name just like that."
He pulled away slowly, his lips and chin glistening with your juices as he raised his free arm to drape it across your hip and inner thigh. The fingers inside you stopped, pressing against your G-spot while his other hand spread your pussy lips. Leaning over your crotch, he spat on your swollen clit before rubbing it in tight circles with his thumb. You shuddered, tightening around his fingers as his saliva mixed in with your fluids.
"You taste so fucking good," he mumbled, licking his lips. He began moving his hand again as he stared up at you with heat evident in his eyes, watching you toss your head back in ecstasy. "I could stay here for hours."
He curled and crooked his fingers, listening to the sounds of your sopping pussy around him, squeezing and trying to suck him back in whenever he moved away. "You're so wet f'me... This how much you missed me?"
"Uh-huh." You groggily nodded, rocking your hips against him. Your cunt throbbed—you were sure he could feel it—with the need to cum, legs writhing just a little bit more. You bit your lip, whining and gasping as you tensed, inadvertently trying to close your thighs around his head.
"No, don't do that," he said, taking his hand off your pulsing clit to hold one thigh open while his tricep kept your other one down. His arm ran across your lower abdomen, gently bobbing up and down with every labored breath you took. "Keep your legs open... Let me watch you cum 'round my fingers."
You could only nod, utterly drawn to the rasp of his voice and the undeniable authority in his tone. You whined when he latched back onto your sensitive clit, flicking his tongue up and down, eager to make you orgasm.
"That's it, baby," he muttered, giving your nub a firm suck. "You're so close... C'mon, give it to me." He groaned, grinding harder against the mattress as he moved faster, pushed deeper, until finally, you came around him with a loud moan.
"There we go..." He nearly came in his pants as he curled his fingers into the special spot inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. "You did so good, sweetheart. Missed watching you do that for me." Sighing, he sat back up and pulled his fingers out of you to lick them clean, staring straight into your eyes.
With a grunt, he flopped beside you, turning your body so your back was flush against his chest as he ran his hands along the side of your thigh. His painfully hard cock was pressed against your ass, grinding against you leisurely.
"You wanna go all the way?" He questioned against your ear, his hot breath fanning against the shell of it to bring shivers down your spine. Even when the throbbing between your legs hadn't subsided yet, you couldn't find the need to decline.
"Thanks, baby," he said. You could hear the faint smile in his voice as he shifted around behind you, listening to the sound of rustling fabric and the jangling of his belt buckle. He tossed his pants to the floor haphazardly before swiftly pulling his cock out of his boxers. It throbbed fervently, leaking with precum and leaving your skin slick when he dragged it along the inside of your thighs.
He grit his teeth as he rubbed the shaft of his dick against your pussy, mouthing at the back of your neck before he slowly pushed his way inside you again. The two of you let out satisfied noises, savoring the way he stretched you out so perfectly.
"You're so tight..." his voice was strained as he spoke through gritted teeth, roaming his hands along your body. "You were made to take my cock like this, huh?"
"Mhm," you signed contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut. "Couldn't touch myself without you here."
"Poor boy," Leon teased breathlessly, snaking an arm under you to toy with your nipples, ghosting the tips of his fingers along your top surgery scars every so often. His free hand moved down to rest on your belly, gently pressing down to feel himself thrusting inside you. It was far too late at night to do anything intensive, but both of you were satisfied with just soaking in each other's presence. He held you close to him, whispering those sweet words that you've been aching to hear ever since he had to leave for his mission.
He was already on the verge of cumming just by eating you out, and it was no secret to either of you with the way he twitched and throbbed. He spent countless nights fucking his fist trying to imagine it was you, but his calloused hand could never compare to your soft and warm cunt.
"Fuuuck..." Leon drawled out, fucking you a bit faster. "I'm so close..."
"Already?" You laughed quietly, hissing when he pulled about halfway only to ram himself back inside in response before resuming his relaxed pace. "Okay! Sorry, sorry."
You bit your lip and let out a pleased sound when his free hand shifted itself to pat your clit before massaging it, lifting your own arm back to run your fingers through his hair again. You turned your head, connecting your lips with his passionately. You moaned into his mouth when your sensitivity from earlier began pooling in your abdomen again, earning a beautiful groan from the man behind you when you tightened reflexively.
Breaking away, you lazily pushed against him in sync with his thrusts, eyebrows furrowing in concentration when you could feel the heat burning brighter in your stomach.
"Fuck... That's it, sweetheart," he panted, tugging you closer, fucking you just a bit harder. "Cum for me again. Please, pretty boy, I wanna feel you cum." He rubbed your clit with just the right amount of pressure, brushing up against your G-spot with every thrust. He sucked and licked and kissed the skin of your neck, littering it with hickeys and shallow bites.
"Shit, Leon, 'm gonna... gonna cum again," you gasped, your hips jerking. You could feel him nod in response, but he was in no rush to get you to orgasm. He maintained the pace until he felt you squeeze tight around him and let out a loud moan, your body tensing and convulsing for a moment. The sight and feeling of you cumming sent him right over the edge as he swiftly pulled out with a wet squelch, pressing your thighs around his slick cock to fuck the plush flesh.
With an audible groan, milky white ropes of cum spurt out of the tip of his cock, landing on your skin and the bedsheets in front of you. He pressed himself flush against your body until his cock stopped throbbing and jerking before finally relaxing with a satisfied sigh.
"That was so good, [Name]," Leon praised, nuzzling into the back of your neck. "You did amazing. Like always."
"I know," you responded swiftly, feigning arrogance. But you could hardly keep up the facade, softly laughing at yourself. "But you did amazing, too."
"I know," he parroted playfully, giving you a quick kiss to the nape of your neck when he suddenly shifted to push his softening cock back inside your hole. He caressed you reassuringly when he felt you tense, explaining that he wasn't going to move. Not too much, at least.
"Now go back to sleep," he instructed, exhaustion taking root in his voice as he pulled the covers over your spent bodies. He wrapped his strong arms around you in a comforting embrace, listening to the sound of your soft breathing. "We'll clean up tomorrow."
You rolled your eyes with an exasperated huff through your nose. "Fine." Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling your body relax. "Goodnight. I love you."
"I love you, too."
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cross-posted on ao3
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redcoralpot · 6 months
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Eleganti - Poly!Stuilly x FTM!Reader
If you saw this before it was reposted, no you didn't.
Warnings: Implied internalized homophobia.
Summary: The heat has managed to affect all of you, and the only solution? A date at Stu's house with a dash of nail polish. You're sure they were both thrilled.
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The summer heat truly had gotten to the three of you, with not even a cool breeze to give you relief. Rich boy Stu Macher’s parents were away for the weekend, again, which left his house the ideal place to take shelter in. If you had to be honest, you did not mind the temperature– kind of. The bottles of nail polish in your bag clinked together as you walked up the stairs; you knew Billy would be able to sit still long enough for it to dry. Stu, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure of. Not without heat and plenty of air flow.
Speaking of the devil, Billy glanced up from his book as you creaked the door open, leisurely spread on Stu’s bed. He raised an eyebrow at your appearance, before going back to reading, shifting a little to the side so you had more room to sit down. A smug grin slowly spread over your lips as you set your backpack down on the bed and unzipped it, making a show of the little, colorful bottles you displayed inside. You scooched beside it, and after setting down a towel in front of you, cracked open the first container.
Seeming to catch the smell, Billy spoke up, “Nail polish?”
“Yeah, want some?” He watched as you meticulously picked the colors you wanted, his mouth pursing.
“Not right now.”
You shrugged, applying a lavender base to your fingernails, “Suit yourself!”
Your hand flinched as the door was shoved open, smearing the liquid down your skin, only to be greeted by the eccentric figure of Stu. Upon seeing the predicament he caused, he bounced his shoulders and held up his hands beside his head, with an exaggerated frown. 
“Uh… whoops!”
He sauntered over, pressing his face into your shoulder. In response, you slapped the towel onto his face after wiping the spilled polish on the material. Stu grumbled something; it was ineligible. 
It eventually slid off on its own, with a little help from the teen shaking his head, “Suffocate me, why don’t you?”
Chuckling, you said, “You were the one who made me mess up, tough guy.”
“I totally meant for that to happen.” He slipped his arm over you, hanging like a sloth.
“If you meant it, then you have to be my test subject!”
Stu made a noise, contemplating. You wouldn’t force him to wear it, of course, but it was funny threatening something so harmless anyway. After just a few seconds, you felt the weight on your back release; Stu had moved in favor of shoving your bag into Billy to make space for himself. Then, the noodle of a guy flopped across from you, sitting criss-crossed with the most shit eating grin you have ever seen. Billy scowled at the rough treatment, but the expression was covered by the other’s knee.
He leaned forward, “Gimme orange.”
“Good choice!”
To prevent smearing, you blew on your covered nails as best you could, before bright orange coated the tiny brush in your hand. Stu seemed giddy as you took his hand, peering down, applying the cool liquid with precision. It was such a contrast to what his hand felt like; rough and as warm as a furnace. In the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s eyes watching over Stu’s jeans, his book long forgotten. Finally, you finished, and allowed the fidgety boy to hold up his palms. His eyes were wide as he admired your handiwork, flexing his fingers with pride.
Stu tapped the top of Billy’s head with his elbow, “Hey, dude, want some of this?”
“Hm.”
“C’mon—”
“Black.”
You snickered, “I knew you’d crack.”
Billy rolled his eyes and leaned on Stu, holding out a hand. He shivered when you made a slight mistake, and gave you an unimpressed look as you fixed it with the edge of your towel. You could only complete one hand before he stopped you.
“Look who’s gonna be Cruella this Halloween!” Stu sneered, poking the other’s nose.
“Hey, hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You shut the bottle, carefully sealing them all back in your bag, “Fuddy duddy William could be making a new trend.”
“Never call me that again. Is this enough for you two?”
Stu cocked his head, “Lemme think… nope.”
You stretched your body out, setting your belongings on the ground. Opening Stu’s own closet, you ran your fingers over the variety of shirts and robes the guy had. In the very back, there was a band shirt, obviously too small for Stu; he grew out of it by the time he was sixteen. You held it out, studying it, before shrugging and taking it off the hanger. Your shirt flew over your head and smacked Stu in the face, but the air soothed the sweat that was gathering under your double sport bras, at least for a moment. Then, the newer shirt covered everything back up, and the dark material banned anyone from clocking the extra layers underneath.
“Why don’t we go out for ice cream?” you suggested.
Stu pumped his fist, even though your shirt was still clinging to his body. Billy shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips when Stu ran out the door, presumably to get his car keys. You, on the other hand, hesitated when you saw a shadow underneath the shirt, where your chest lay. The only other boy left in the room must have caught on, because you felt a passing hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear.
“You look fine, it’s normal.”
He met your gaze. However, someone was getting impatient, as a muffled shout rang through the closed window, “Coming? I’m totally getting pistachio this time, and you gotta be here to see me try it!”
-
585 notes · View notes
4allthefours4 · 11 months
Text
A Punishment to Remember
(Use of the word cunt. Reader doesn’t mind feminine clothing.)
Minors DNI
Kinks/Warnings: Bondage, Toys, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Mean Dom Tighnari
I’m a hardcore Tighnari simp, don’t judge my fantasy. Lmao
Being in a relationship with Tighnari let you discover a few things about yourself. One, being the fact that feminine clothing made you feel more free. Two being that you absolutely loved headpats. And three, you’re one horny bitch.
“Nari, p- please...” you stutter, body jolting with every pulse of the toy inside you. 
The fox simply glances at you, fidgeting with a small device in his hand before returning to reading. This was supposed to be a punishment, but the man couldn’t say no to your tearful face, at least sometimes. 
You writhe in your place on your shared bed, hands still tied together behind your back. Your feet and legs are separated with a bar, giving the fox the perfect view of your lower half whenever he wishes to look at you. You take the few moments you know you have to gather your breath, shifting in your place to a better area covered in less of your fluids than the previous. The punishment had been going on for at least an hour, the fox leaving the bed after only a few minutes of watching you squirm.
The reasoning for the punishment was dumb, really. You had gotten particularly distracted in trying to beat Cyno in a game of TCG, completely forgetting to return the book you had borrowed from the library a week prior. Your perfect record of non-overdue books had been broken, because of a simple card game. Honestly, if it were anyone else Tighnari wouldn’t care. He’d simply remind you of the book in your satchel when you returned home and he’d watch you leave the house once again to return said book. Unfortunately, or... fortunately, you were a horny bastard telling him to punish you anytime he deemed it necessary. 
Electricity shoots up your spine as the toy continues its previous vibrations, the intensity much higher than before. A rabbit vibrator was the toy of choice for today’s activity, the toy being able to stimulate both your insides and your tiny dick. 
“I want you to apologize to me for wasting perfectly good daylight playing card games when you were supposed to be returning this book.” Tighnari  finally speaks, shutting the book in his hands with a loud snap.
“I’m sORrY!” You start, the vibrations inside you intensify making you arch your back. A sinful moan leaves your swollen lips as you cum for what felt like the tenth time that night. In all honesty, you had lost track of your orgasms after the third.
A small chuckle leaves the fennec fox as he watches you squirm in your place on the bed. He watches as your walls desperately try and push the toy out, a small string thankfully keeping it in place. He had thought of everything to make this the most pleasurable punishment he could. 
Before another loud moan can rip through you, soft lips smash against your swollen ones, swallowing the moan in your throat. Tighnari’s tongue forces your mouth open, not that you were complaining, fighting yours for dominance. Almost as quickly as the fight starts it ends, you happily letting the man’s tongue explore your mouth. No spot is left untouched as your tongues dance together in a passionate make out.
You freeze as a particularly loud moan leaves you, almost biting the other’s tongue off. The toy had turned to its max, the harsh vibrations make you cum once again, mouth opening in a silent scream. Tighnari watches with wide eyes as liquid sprays from your cunt, chuckling as your legs twitch much more than before. 
Tears stream from your eyes as you beg the fox to stop the vibrations ripping orgasms out of you left and right. Your sensitivity had finally caught up to you, making the once pleasurable vibrations almost unbearable. 
“One more, love. I know you can give me one more like that.” Tighnari whispers, rotating the vibrator inside you. He separates the other part from your dick, choosing instead to rub the nub by himself. His hands are skillful as he watches your cunt pulse with each movement from his hand. His left hand grips the handle on the toy, thrusting it in and out of you as his right speeds its assault on your dick.
Your back involuntarily arches as a pornographic moan leaves your throat. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you squirt once more, vision going white for a few seconds. 
“There you go. Is my handsome baby satisfied?” Tighnari whispers in your ear. You nod your head as much as you can, sleep threatening to take you. “Sleep, my prince. I will take care of this mess for you.”
You let out a small hum, vision going black as you pass out from exhaustion. The last thing you hear is a faint chuckle from the man beside you.
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asuyaka · 5 months
Text
"I love, my boyfriend..."
★ - 'm back t'cooking!! | character depicted as 18+
☆ - T4T! Fushiguro Megumi x Reader!
♡ - listenin' to... I Love My Boyfriend
✮ - soft sex, lazy sex, kissing, cunnilingus, porn with feelings
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Megumi loves waking up next to you.
He loves the way your body rises up and down, the cool morning breeze against his bare skin leaving goosebumps in their wake, playful, wandering hands sliding between your thighs with a gentle smile.
"Megumi..." You whisper; bleary eyes staring into Megumi's dark eyes. His fingers play with your waistband, the fabric slapping against the skin of your hips as he leans in closer.
His thigh stays between your legs, a tiny sigh leaving your lips as Megumi presses his lips against yours. It's barely even a kiss, your lips lazily moving against one another, breathing into each other's mouths.
Your brain melts. A messy trail of spit connects your lips every so often as his other hand grazes down, from your neck to your pec, squeezing and rubbing your nipple gently. "Gumi..."
"Baby," Megumi says, sounding hoarse. He slowly takes his finger away from your boxers, settling them on your thighs. "Baby, can I suck your dick?"
You have to focus on breathing. "Yeah," You rasp. "Please, please."
Megumi kisses you, it's nothing other than sloppy. His hands pull your boxers down, immediately going to touch your dick.
It sends an electrifying feeling through your lower half, your thighs instinctively snapping together. Megumi's strong. Though with a sleeper build, his arms flex as they pry them back open. "Don't hide, let me see you."
Megumi scoots down and settles on his elbows in between your legs. He pats your calf and you shakily shift your legs up, letting them rest on his shoulders.
Your hands grip the sheets staring expectantly between your legs. You can't tell where your body stops and where Megumi begins, you can't even think. Your mind not all the way awake yet, even with the added heat against your dick.
Megumi's fingers spread you further, and then he ducks his head and licks a broad stripe.
"Megumi!" You moan loud enough to shake your mind awake. You can feel Megumi's tongue circle around your dick as spit leaks down into your pulsating hole.
"Y'feel so good..." His voice vibrates through your body, muffled on your thighs and barely coherent as his tongue shifts from licking your winking hole to circling your dick.
Your breathing gets louder and shorter. Your hands go to grip against his hair tightly securing themselves against his scalp. You can't stop yourself from moaning, you aren't sure you can try. Your mind is blank and it doesn't even feel like you're thinking.
Megumi groans, stuffing one of his hands in his pants, hastily pushing his fingers into his hole, his thumb rubbing the slick running down his thighs against his dick.
You can feel your muscles tensing and your back arching. It feels good— so fucking good.
"Gumi," You whine, thighs shaking and your mind going black. "M'gonna—"
"Come f'me baby, come on my face, let me fuckin' taste you," Megumi's fingers slide into your hole and his tongue focuses on your dick. Spit leaking down his chin and seeping into the sheets, his fingers go faster with every punched ah! coming out of you.
Your toes curl and your thighs tighten. You're so, so close; you can feel Megumi go faster, his fingers press up against that spot inside you and—
You're cumming.
You moan continuously as your orgasm washes through you, and then you go limp. Your cock twitches weakly as your grip on Megumi's hair loosens. He lifts his head up, placing a kiss on your thigh.
His fingers press against your lips, breaching past your teeth and nestling against the muscle in your mouth.
You can taste Megumi, evident by the damp patch in his boxers. Your tongue circles around his fingers, making a show of sucking his fingers.
He takes them out, a trail of spit connecting your mouth and his fingers. Megumi smiles, pressing a peck against your lips. "You okay?"
You pout slightly, hiding your head in the crook of Megumi's neck. "Wanted t'taste you too..."
Megumi hums as he rubs your naked back gently. "When we wake up," He shifts your position, letting you rest against his scarred chest so you can hear his heartbeat.
You huff, but let it happen anyway.
You love waking up next to Megumi, the same way he loves waking up next to you.
431 notes · View notes
monstersandmaw · 6 months
Text
Male drider x trans male reader (nsfw)
Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
Commission number three! This one got away with me, for sure. Hope you folks enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!!
Content: trans male reader, some afab language to refer to the reader’s lower parts during non-penetrative, oral sex; chest area not mentioned. Kidnapping, some threat to life and mild injury (not from drider), brief mention of blood and stitches. Reader has submissive tendencies, enjoys being restrained, and the drider is gently dominant. 
Wordcount: 10,123(!)
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Running headlong into the dark pines that made up the forest which, according to your captors, had acquired such nicknames as the ‘The Bone Garden’, ‘Spectre’s Haunt’, and the ‘Blood Wood’ was probably not the wisest decision you’d ever made, but you’d been held by these thugs for four days of hard riding, and you were ready to risk it all to escape.
Had it really only been four days since you’d locked the door to your tidy little cottage on the edge of the village? With a gleaner’s bag slung over one shoulder and a basket in hand, you’d set out in search of the mushrooms that only grew at this time of year when the conditions were perfect — not hot and dry, not yet frosty, and just rainy enough. They loved the misty turn of the year almost as much as you did.
Without a care in the world, you’d stepped out along the weed-strewn gravel path that led through your herb garden, latched the wooden gate behind you, and meandered through the houses as the sounds of the village waking began to fill the air.
Gwyn had recently lit his forge and the rush of the bellows to stoke the heat reminded you of a dragon’s steady breathing; in and out, in and out. You’d snaked past the bakery just to swipe a fresh cinnamon roll before Garrick or Mercy or any of the woodcutters who also tended to rise early could finish them all off, and the orc behind the counter gave you the biggest one he had and a wink that made you just a little gooey inside yourself. “You’re a shameless flirt, Thom,” you said as you slid your coppers across the counter to him with two fingers.
“Hey, a man can dream, right, gorgeous?”
He was pretty fine himself, but he wasn’t really your type, and you’d made that clear when he’d asked you to dance at the first Spring Equinox dance you’d attended after moving to the village, then just a lowly herbalist’s apprentice. Ever since, you’d fallen into an easy banter of flirting that was destined to go nowhere, and it was harmless fun for both of you. You left the bakery with a smile on your face, and headed past Gwyn’s forge as you made your way north out of the village.
The smith, a colossal centaur with a dapple grey coat and a thick, white mane and tail that made anyone with long hair in the village green with envy, called after you and beckoned you over. “Headed north?” he asked with an uncharacteristic scowl.
“Yeah, why?”
“Take care, alright? Mercy said she’d seen sign of bandits in the area, and Willem said he’d heard talk of people being snatched when he took those fleeces to market last week. You shouldn’t be going out alone. None of us should really, not til things calm down.”
A little growl of frustration left you and you adjusted the gleaner’s bag on your shoulder. “I really need these supplies, Gwyn,” you said. “They’re ingredients I need to help fight off winter fevers, and if I don’t have enough, we could be in trouble come the cold in a few weeks’ time…”
“Can’t you take Garrick or Mercy with you? A good woodsman’s felling axe’ll do a hell of a lot more damage than that little sickle you’ve got on your belt…”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you breezed. “I’m not going to be on the main road anyway.”
“Please take care,” he rumbled, and you smiled up at the enormous blacksmith. He might have had the shoulders of a rock troll and iron-shod hooves big enough to knock down a castle door, with a big burn mark all up his left arm from an accident at the forge a decade ago, but he was the gentlest and most softly-spoken person you knew.
You cursed yourself three hours later when your basket of rare, purple mushrooms lay trampled to a slimy paste on the floor of the clearing and a nasty looking wood elf with a sneer and a cruel glint in her eye had her bow trained on you, while a second elf trussed you up like a solstice bird. Your head was ringing from the surprise blow they’d dealt you to the back of the skull, and you were lucky you didn’t have a worse concussion.
“You’ll make a nice little offering for the mage,” the female elf purred while her companion straightened and marched you on unsteady feet back towards the road. “Humans like you always fetch a decent price. Something about your blood being universal for most rituals, I think…”
There on the dirt road, four horses were waiting, three of which were a normal size while the last was built like a castle wall and large enough to carry the orc sitting astride it. The orc had one milky eye and the brand of a murderer across his right cheek. “Shit,” you hissed when you saw that, and the male elf laughed cruelly when you flinched as the orc swung down and prepared to heave you onto the back of the spare horse.
Normally, if you were going to be tied up and bent over something for some rough treatment, this was not how it went. There was absolutely nothing fun or consensual about the way these bandits chucked you over the back of the horse and lashed your hands and feet to the tack so you didn’t slide off. The orc guffawed and spat off to one side when you cried out on impact as your ribs creaked and your lungs expelled all the air they’d ever contained in one ugly grunt. After that, you did just about everything you could to move with the rhythm of the cantering horse, but it was probably the most miserable experience of your life. When the group slowed to trot, the motion was so painful that you actually slipped into unconsciousness for a while, only to be jounced back some time later.
At the crossroads about ten miles north of your village — the furthest north from your little patch of paradise you’d ever roamed — they met up with a couple of other riders who had apparently been on a recce of their own to look for more people for this blood mage or whoever, but they got laughed at by the orc on his enormous, cantankerous horse for not finding any victims and rode off again without joining the party.
So, it was just you, alone in the wilderness, being taken gods-knew-where, by two feral elf siblings and a murderous orc. Stowed like a sack of potatoes over that rangy, stinking horse for five hours of hellish riding, you were barely conscious. When they eventually stopped to make camp that night, they did let you relieve yourself in relative privacy, but once you were done, they hauled you back to their pack animals and lashed you to a tree next to them so that you couldn’t hope to escape. You could still smell the stink of them though, and it was enough to turn your empty stomach.
Their food was revolting, and their company equally repulsive. They joked loudly about all the cruel things they’d done to people in the past, and you sat there wondering why you hadn’t let Gwyn talk you into going out with the woodcutters. There were mushrooms where they were currently coppicing hazel for the winter, but no. No, you’d decided to be adventurous and clever, and to collect only the best mushrooms for your salves and tonics.
Four days later, you were almost ready to give up.
The mage’s castle they were taking you to was legendary in the northern reaches, and no one who was taken there against their will ever returned. Tales of blood magic and horrific rites involving chimera and creatures brought back from the dead had entered the local lore, and now apparently you were going to be drained of your precious blood for whatever this necromancer had planned next. And the price of that precious blood had been discussed and debated by the bandits for the last day.
Personally, you agreed with the female elf and thought you were worth more than a couple of weeks’ wages in gold, but you had no intention of allowing yourself to be squeezed dry like an orange for your blood. So, after the group stopped in a dark and snow-mottled pine forest after the fifth day of hard riding, you enacted your plan. You’d been plotting it all day, and hoped you weren’t too delirious and weak to pull it off.
When they’d let you relieve yourself the previous night, they’d not bothered to tie your hands together or watch you, since there was nowhere for you to go. You knew woodlands though, and you were pretty confident that if you gave them the slip in the dark, you could take care of yourself in the wild for a few days. Long enough to get back home anyway.
So when they started their daily round of bragging and trading boasts about how many vampires they’d killed or how they’d survived the venom of three different nagas in the same attack, you made your move.
If that darned twig hadn’t snapped, you might have got away with it, but when the male elf barked, “Oi!” into the gathering dark and swung his lantern around, you knew you’d messed up.
Breaking cover completely and legging it into the endless ranks of black-barked pine trees in the fading light of day seemed like the only option now, so you began crashing through the debris and dead branches that had gathered beneath the choking canopy of dense pine needles overhead. 
These woods were different from any you’d known before, and something dark and foreboding lingered there like a shade above a gravestone. These woods were not kind. The air was not fresh and sweet like it was between the beech and oak back home. It pooled and festered, stagnant between the rough sentinel trees, and the lower branches seemed to reach their sharp, bare fingers towards your face as you ran like a rabbit from the pack of hunting dogs behind you.
Your toe caught a root and you stumbled, and in the space where your head had just been, an arrow whizzed through the air and sank into the tree ahead of you with a thunk that almost made your heart stop. Your lungs were burning already and your legs felt shaky and weak after your rough treatment and half-rotten rations, but a brush with death that close shocked you to the core. The water they’d given you had been rancid, and your stomach churned as adrenaline curdled in your gut, but somehow you forced yourself on into the darkness.
Their voices dwindled, muffled by the carpet of fallen pine needles, until a shout went up and another arrow flew past you. This time, it left a searing pain in its wake and you clutched at your ribs where the hunting broadhead had torn through your skin. Luckily, it was superficial, but it hurt like hell and it was bleeding. Blood might draw predators out of the darkness, if your blundering and their bellowing hadn’t already.
Shit, you hadn’t thought about the horrors that probably dwelled in a place like this.
The bandits had been crowing about the ghouls and rabid cannibals that supposedly haunted these woods, and you’d passed plenty of skeletons along the roadside on your journey, your down-turned head providing you with a first-class view of them as your half-lame horse had jolted past them at its permanent, slightly-panicked jog. They hadn’t all been pack animals and horses lying in the ditch either. Some of the skulls had been humanoid, and there had been the horns of a minotaur at some point. This was a place where living things entered unwillingly, and most of them never left.
Forcing yourself onwards, you clutched your stinging side, but they were closing on you. The orc was thundering through the forest like a boar on a rampage, and the elves were quick as shadows.
“You little shit!” the female shouted from right behind you. Something heavy hit you across the back of your knees and you tripped and fell hard onto your palms as a flung tree branch rebounded off onto the forest floor. The force of the fall sent your cheek smashing into the muddy ground and you cried out as she landed triumphantly atop you and turned you over, smacking you full in the mouth out of sheer frustration.
“Gotcha,” she grinned. “You’re gonna pay for running, little rabbit,” she added with a laugh as she hauled you to your feet.
You kicked her knee from the side as hard as you could and she yowled like a cat dropped into a bath, letting go of you to stagger sideways, limping. The thing about being a healer is that you also know the weak spots where it can hurt most.
Before she could turn on you again though, something moved in the trees behind you and you all froze. The orc crashed to a halt nearby breathing hard, and the elf’s brother came over to help her stand while she spat curses at you that would have made a pirate’s ears bleed.
“What is it?” the orc growled, low and tense.
“Fuck knows. Tie him up again and let’s get the fuck back to camp,” the female elf wheezed. “I’m gonna drag him behind my horse for the rest of the way there. Shit that hurts!”
“Quiet,” her brother hissed. “Something’s out there.”
“Then let’s get fucking moving!” she countered.
You turned to glance over your shoulder and caught the shape of something white drifting in the distant trees just as the orc spotted it too. His grip tightened on the haft of his huge war-axe, and he took half a step back. Until then, he’d been the one who’d seemed steadiest; unshakable and immovable as a cannon, and he hit just as hard. Now though, he looked spooked and scared.
“They say the Death-Spinner hunts in these parts,” he said, eyes wide as he looked from side to side. “A massive white drider that strikes from the shadows and wraps you up in his web and sucks you dry…”
“It’s been too long since someone sucked you dry,” the female elf sneered at him, though the remark came out feebly and she looked around her in a twitchy, nervous motion. “Your blue balls are making you hallucinate. Come on. What are you waiting for?”
“He’s got other names too, you know,” her brother interrupted, reaching for you with a jerky movement that halted when the steady rhythm of something moving nearby rose above the whispering of the wind in the canopy. “Soul-Eater, The Weaver Ghost…”
“Please, the Death-Spinner is just a myth…” the female on your right hissed.
“Decidedly… not,” came a thin, harsh voice from the trees ahead, and your captors just bolted.
The supposedly tough bandits – the ones who had been talking about selling an actual person to a bloodmage to use in some disgusting ritual; who had joked just the previous night about flaying a minotaur like a cow on a butcher’s block; who had told you that there was nothing out here that would give a single, flying fuck about you – had fled with no more than a shriek and the clatter of boots in the dead underbrush, and left you alone with the being they called ‘Death-Spinner’.
“Better and better,” you spat, still tasting blood in your mouth from where the elf had cracked you across the mouth. “First it was ‘sold to a blood mage’ and now it’s ‘death by drider’.”
A pearlescent pale leg speared down out of the gloom that gathered between the black pines, its ivory chitin shining softly. Shaped like a thin, curved shard of polished bone, the limb moved with slow, silent grace, and it was joined by a second, needle-slender limb, then a third and a forth, until the white underbelly of the creature loomed large into your limited pool of light, followed finally by the lower part of a humanoid torso, and the large, armour-plated abdomen of the creature.
The whole of the eight-legged being was utterly colourless.
White and pendulous as the moon, the drider’s chitinous body looked like drifts of wind-blown snow that had then set into solid ice, swirling and churning across its body to rise in small peaks and troughs at the joints and high points of its legs and over the swollen curve of its abdomen.
The humanoid torso melted upwards at the hips from the body of the spider, and two, smaller, pincer-like limbs — pedipalps — were angled slightly inwards, both ending in single, wicked talons and looking like they were ready to spear you through the middle in the blink of an eye.
The drider wore no clothes, and patches of white chitin formed a kind of armour up its humanoid torso: over the hips but skirting around its lean belly, then up over its shoulders like pauldrons and creating natural bracers and gauntlets along its long, wiry arms. Its hands, you saw as it dipped a little lower into the faint glow from the elves’ abandoned lantern, were clawed, but its slightly curved talons weren’t like those of a mammal. They were simply an unbroken extension of the chitin that covered its hands and forearms.
Its face remained mostly out of sight, wreathed in the upper shadows of the trees, but you got the impression of two reddish eyes glinting at you in the dark, and long, silk-white hair flowing down its back.
“You’re bleeding,” came the slightly hoarse tenor that made your skin prickle. A creature that large should have a deeper voice, but the mellifluous timbre of the drider’s tone made you think of sirens luring sailors to their death with sweet songs and empty, deceitful promises.
“Only a bit,” you choked out, stepping back and catching your heel on the branch that the female elf had used to trip you. When you fell hard onto your backside, you caught the glint of steel in the sea of rust-red pine needles all around you, and realised that one of the elves had dropped their precious sword in their haste to escape this creature.
In a rush of blind panic, you snatched up the unfamiliar weapon and held it aloft. “Stay back!” you barked.
The laugh that rippled out of the drider chilled your blood.
“Please,” it crooned, and then it loomed down out of the shadow and into the light, squinting its two scarlet eyes against the sudden brightness. “As if a little stick like that could hurt something like me.”
The sword fell from your fingers as weakness washed through you, and you bit back a sob. “Please,” you said instead. “Please, they brought me here to sell me to a necromancer, but I… I don’t want to die like this either.”
“Die?” the drider said, and its red gaze flickered to the wound in your side. “You won’t die from that. A few silk stitches and a rest, and you’ll be good as new…” It frowned again, its white eyebrows pulling in like a loose thread in a perfect tapestry. “You’re filthy,” it said, and you noticed a diagonal scar cutting across its pale mouth as its lip pulled up on one side in a gesture of revulsion.
“Yeah, well, you try being thrown over the back end of a bandit’s horse for five days and see if you’re still that pretty at the end of it,” you retorted, exhaustion making you bold and just a little bit stupid.
The drider laughed, the sound like autumn leaves rolling down the road, and you paused. It sounded genuinely amused.
“Come, human,” it said, holding out a clawed hand. “Let’s get you somewhere where you can rest in safety.”
“Safety? What… What about… all that ‘Death-Spinner’ stuff?”
The drider paused, its huge body hanging in the twilight like a pearl. “I have no interest in consuming sapient creatures, but the rumours help to keep people out of my forest. It’s as much for their safety as mine,” it went on. “There are nastier things even than me in these parts.” The self-deprecating venom in its tone drew you up short.
“You don’t seem so bad…”
“Thank you,” it replied with flat sarcasm.
You took three more steps towards the drider before your legs gave out. In a flash faster than thought, the drider darted at you, and before you could even flinch, strong, armoured arms had caught you and lifted you up.
“You poor thing,” it crooned, and you looked up properly into its face for the first time. “You’ve really been through it, haven’t you? Easy now. I’ll take care of you.”
“Why?” you breathed, trying not to let your treacherous muscles relax into the solid frame that held you. You felt the chitin of its chest against your shoulder as it bore you along in a strangely smooth, gliding motion, the dark trunks of the trees whipping past in a blur.
“Evidently I have a soft spot for brave and lost creatures,” the drider smiled. “My name is Feluän, by the way.”
You exhaled your own name in return, and then said, “Isn’t Feluän an elven name? Some prince or something…?”
“You know your history,” the drider chuckled. “Yes, he was a prince of the snow elves a long time ago. I came across it in a history book I picked out of a caravan that was destroyed by a band of gnolls once. Their tastes run more towards beer than books…”
“I chose my own name too,” you said, the consonants feeling thick and slurred as the tiredness seeped throughout your whole body and the pain in your side mounted. “You’re a male drider then? If you named yourself after a prince, I mean. I don’t know anything about your kind really. Never… Never met one before.”
“Hush for now,” he said, squeezing you a little more tightly into his arms and drawing a moan unbidden from your lips. Gods, even in these circumstances, it felt so good to be held like this. “But yes, I am.”
The journey through the dark forest passed in a hazy blur, until you had the vague impression of torchlight and soft firelight and you were laid down on the softest surface you thought you'd maybe ever touched in your life. A long, deep groan left you and you suddenly didn’t care what happened to you.
“I’m going to stitch you up,” came the drider’s voice from somewhere nearby. “It might hurt. I can use a little of my venom to numb the area if you like…”
You nodded, not wanting any more pain, and out of the corner of your eye, you watched the drider’s white body move in the blurry shadows of the cave. He loomed over you and pressed the tip of one clawed finger to his upper canine, before bringing it to your side where he’d hitched up your shirt just enough to access the glancing wound from the arrow. A blissful numbness crept like winter ice across your skin, and you let the drider tend to you.
Tiredness claimed you not long after, but you had the distinct impression of a warm cloth being wiped gently across your face and hands before blackness washed in and you slept.
Over the course of the next few days, Feluän tended to your wound, and you forgot to be afraid of the strange creature. Centaurs had always held a fascination for you, with their animal lower halves and their humanoid upper bodies, and the way the drider moved was no less fascinating. When he wasn't tending to you, he was weaving linen and silk into the most wondrous bolts of fabric. His cave was dotted here and there with trinkets that he’d clearly pilfered from the sporadic ‘visitors’ to his part of the world, but aside from that, the cave was just that: a grotto carved out of a rise in the ground in the middle of a dank, desolate forest.
“You live alone?” you asked on the first evening you felt strong enough to get out of bed without his help. Until then, he’d forced you to stay still, and honestly, you’d been only too happy to let him boss you about and carry you around. He was sweet, but he didn't take no for an answer, and he didn’t let you wheedle your way out of anything either. Your best ‘puppy-dog’ eyes had crumbled his iron resolve a bit though, and finally he’d let you get out of his soft, cosy bed to join him by the gentle light of flames in the fire pit at the centre of his cave.
Feluän nodded. “Yes. I have spent my whole life alone. Driders are not sociable with each other by nature, and most people fear us too much to want us anywhere near them, as you saw yourself when your captors realised I was there.”
“Thank you for that, by the way,” you said as you took the carved wooden cup he offered you. It had some kind of sharp, pine-needle tea in it and he looked embarrassed that that was all he could offer you to drink apart from water. In the few days you’d been there, you’d had some kind of game broth which, while nutritious, hadn’t been particularly flavoursome. “I didn’t think I’d find anyone out here more intimidating than that orc, but you managed it.”
Across the fire, his ruby red eyes glittered and he laughed, tilting his head in your direction. He didn’t always meet your eye, you realised, and you wondered if his albinism affected his eyesight. “I live to serve,” he purred.
“The way you behave, I’d say you live to be served, but what do I know?”
Again, he laughed. “You offering, little human?” he said, cocking a white eyebrow in a way that made you feel a little dizzy.
“I might, if the rewards for service were worth it,” you replied archly, sipping the sharp tea. Its flavour reminded you of the tinctures you brewed at home, and of the people who would need you as the autumn drew to a close and winter began to coil around the edges of the village. Your shoulders dropped, and you sighed, steam from the cup swirling in front of your eyes for a moment.
“You clearly don’t think I could offer you much,” he said dryly.
“It’s not that,” you said. “It’s… I have a responsibility to the people in my village. I’m a herbalist, and the whole reason I was captured was because I was out looking for ingredients that would help fight winter fevers. If I don’t get home before the snows settle in, they’ll suffer.”
He shifted his weight where he was resting casually with all his long, spiny limbs tucked close to his pendulous body, and you realised he was feeling uncertain. “It must be nice,” he began in a new, faltering voice that you’d not heard from him before. “Nice to have people… who need you. Who… Who look to you for protection…”
You laughed softly and shook your head. “I wouldn’t say I provide any kind of protection — you want an orc or a centaur like Thom or Gwyn for that — but I help people where I can, and they’ve been good to me. I was apprenticed with their previous healer, and when he passed, I took on his mantle.”
“Tell me about them?” Feluän asked, red eyes blinking slowly in his frost-pale face. His long, white hair fell down loose to frame his high cheekbones, and the scar on his mouth was the only element in his face that interrupted the otherwise perfect symmetry of him, and it made you want to press your lips to it and see what it felt like beneath your kisses.
You looked away.
“Tell me about them before I take you back tomorrow?”
“Wait, take me back? You’re coming too?”
“You’ll never make it out of these woods alive without me,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t go to all this effort to keep you alive just to turn you loose for the ghouls and shadow wraiths to tear you to pieces when the sun sets tomorrow night.”
“Shadow… wraiths?” you croaked, eyes flitting to the cave entrance where the dark night pressed in against the tiny light of the fire. You shuddered and Feluän smiled to reveal his double set of canines, the larger, outer pair of which were actually hollow fangs that could inject his paralytic venom into his prey.
“Don’t worry, little one,” he said with a rumbling, seductive purr in his tenor that went right through you to your core. “I’ll protect you. You’re safe here anyway. It’s warded.”
“Right.”
“Your people?” he prompted, and you started with Gwyn the dappled centaur. By the time you’d listed almost everyone in the village, your mind was slow and your eyes gritty with sleep. 
Some time earlier, Feluän had moved behind you so that you were resting your weight between his lethally-taloned pedipalps, buttressed up on either side by something that could skewer through you in the blink of an eye, and his hand had recently moved to card idly through your hair.
The world tilted slightly as you dozed off halfway through a sentence about Thom the orc who ran the bakery and made the most incredible fruit pies in autumn, and you realised that Feluän had picked you up again and was carrying you towards his wide, soft bed of silk webbing.
As he drew a feather-filled silk duvet up around your ears and you hummed with deep satisfaction, you heard him murmur, “I wish I could live somewhere like the place you described for me tonight. I wish I could know ‘home’ as you do, but I fear I would never be welcome somewhere like that.”
“They’d love you,” you mumbled. After all, you were half in love with him already and it had only been a few days.
The journey south took about a week. On the first day, you were forced to ride on his back after only a few miles due to the lingering ache in your side. “If you don’t get aboard, I will refuse to take you anywhere at all,” he said sternly, and a thrill of heat shot down your spine at the steel in his tone. “Do as you’re told, human.”
“Fine,” you croaked, ignoring just how much you liked the way he seemed to mingle concern, respect, and command in a single sentence. “Bossy.”
You did enjoy having your arms around his middle as you rode behind him though. And he was quick when he got scuttling along. 
Your pride did have you walking the next day, and before too long, you got to see the ‘Death-Spinner’ in action. In the rocky lower slopes of the pine forest, before it melted into a dewy, autumn meadow, a roar shattered the silence and a bear reared up from the thick grass, as surprised by your exit from the trees as you were by her.
Feluän hissed like a snake and immediately drew himself up, lashing out with his long front legs. Like twin swords, the lowest section of his legs flashed in the misty air and the bear threw herself up onto her hind legs with another bellowing roar.
The drider jabbed at her faster than your eyes could follow, nicking her ear and her shoulder in turn with left and right forelegs, his huge body filling the space between you and the threat like a bulwark. The bear turned on the spot and thundered away, and he dropped silently back to all eight legs and looked down at you. In the starker light of the meadow, he was squinting and his red eyes didn’t quite land on your face.
“Are you alright?” he asked, bare marble chest heaving. His clawed hands were curled at his sides and his arms looked incredible, and suddenly it was very hard to focus on anything but how gods-damned beautiful this creature was. He barked your name and lowered himself down, still squinting. “I can’t see very well in full daylight like this. I need you to tell me if you’re alright.”
“I’m fine,” you croaked at last, trying to swallow your inconveniently-timed arousal. “Are you? I’ve lived in the woods a long time, but I’ve never been that close to a bear before.”
“She really didn’t want to tangle with me,” he laughed, and you caught the way his articulated joints sagged in relief as his white hands found your shoulders and he squeezed you tightly for a second.
“You can’t see very well? What do you mean?”
He smiled sadly and let go of you. “As I understand it, people born like me, without pigmentation, often struggle with their vision, and bright sunlight in particular. I do anyway. Why do you think I chose the darkest place I knew of for my home?”
“I… I hadn’t really thought about it. You sure you want to be out here then? You didn’t have to walk me all the way home you know?”
“I want to,” he said, gesturing for you to continue on your way across the open meadow.
The overnight frost had melted a little, but it still lingered at the foot of the thicker tufts of grass and it crunched softly as you walked through it. Not Feluän though — he moved as silently as his spectral nickname suggested, but you did catch him tilting his head a little and inhaling, as though scenting the wind. His lips parted softly and you caught your best glimpse yet of his double set of canines. His tongue shifted a little behind his teeth, as though he was tasting something on the air, and you looked away. Everything about him was sensuous and it made you want to touch.
You were perhaps a day’s walk from the village now, but he still hadn’t turned back even though you’d told him you could manage alone from there.
That night at camp, you sat together as you had back in his cave, with you resting between the two smaller limbs that jutted out from his spider’s shoulder area. They twitched from time to time as he ate the now-roasted rabbit he’d skewered earlier for dinner with the talon at the end of one of them, and when you’d finished your meal, you reached out without thinking and ran your fingers down the chitin that covered them.
He jumped slightly and then went very still, but as you brought your hand closer to where the limb met his chest, he drew in a shuddering breath that made his whole body rock.
“Does that tickle?” you asked, wondering how much sensation he had with all that natural armour.
“Not exactly,” Feluän rasped. “It’s… It’s been a while since I’ve… since anyone’s — ah…” he gasped and his chest heaved. The little bone he’d been idly cleaning with his tongue dropped from his fingers to land in the carpet of beech and oak leaves around your feet.
“You want me to stop?”
“No,” he replied immediately. “Gods, don’t you dare stop.”
“Alright.”
You stood and faced him, and ran both hands up his ‘hips’ at the base of his humanoid torso. He shuddered again and sucked in another sharp breath. Gradually, you moved your touch up over the marble contours of his abs and ribs until you could reach no higher. “Come down here then,” you said quietly.
His scarred upper lip twitched and he surged down towards you, snatching you up in his hands and lifting you away from the fire. He pinned you against the smooth bark of a nearby beech trunk, and held you there four or five feet off the ground. His hands were secure around your waist as the spears of the two pedipalps lanced into the tree on either side of your face and you gasped, feeling heat rushing to your groin.
“The things you make me want to do to you, human,” he purred around a snarl, red eyes glowing in the night. His huge body was pale, standing out starkly against the darkness, and you felt a familiar, tingling weakness washing through you as he held you pinned there and growled those lustful words into your ears. You wanted him to take control. You wanted to submit to whatever pleasures he had in mind. It made your head go vague.
“What’s that then?” you slurred softly, dangling blissfully in his hold. “What do you want to do to me?”
“I want to tie you up with my silk,” he said, leaning in so he could kiss up your neck. He nipped at you, but not enough to break the skin or inject you with his numbing, paralytic venom. The trail his kisses left was cold though, and your flesh tingled. “I want you trussed and immobile for me while I give you every pleasure I can think of. Your body is so soft compared to mine. So vulnerable. I want it all. I want all of you.”
“You can,” you smiled. “Please.”
His lips twitched into another little snarl and he kissed you again. Your tongue tingled and you swallowed, realising a drop of his venom had landed there. “I can’t,” he said, stepping back and lowering you slowly to the ground. Your knees were too weak to take your weight at first and he steadied you.
“Why not?” Disappointment stung through the creeping haze in your head and helped to clear it a bit.
You glanced along his curved, spider’s abdomen and saw that a clear fluid was dripping slowly from a point on his underbelly. His obvious arousal looked obscene, and your core tightened at the sight of it. When he saw where you were looking, he shivered. “That’s what you do to me,” he croaked. “But I’ve lost too much control of myself tonight. I might hurt you.”
“Kiss me again?”
“No. My mouth is full of venom.”
Your breath caught and you bit your lip. “Please?”
“No.” He sounded angry now, and you looked away, ashamed of still wanting something he didn't want to give. When he saw the expression on your face though, his whole demeanour changed and he softened. “What is it?” he asked.
You shook your head, stepping back. “Forget it. You’re going home again tomorrow anyway. You’ll forget about me in no time.” But you wouldn’t forget about him.
Feluän’s lighting-fast reflexes left you breathless all over again as he snatched for your wrist when you turned away from him. “I will never forget you,” he hissed fiercely. “I can’t. You think I give every lost wanderer I find in my forest a personal escort home? If I had my way, I’d never leave your side again.”
The grip he had on your wrist was tight enough that it was just shy of painful, and you gasped, eyelids fluttering. You glanced down at where his claws were pricking into your skin and then slowly raised your gaze to his face. “Not helping…” you smirked softly.
He closed his eyes slowly and eased his grip just a fraction, and then he opened his eyes again, moved both hands to your face, cupped your jaw, and kissed your forehead. “Best I can do for the moment,” he said apologetically.
“You don’t have to go back, you know?” you said, giving voice to the idea that had been floating around your mind for a few days. “I mean, I know all your stuff is back there, but there’s a really cosy place that’s only a hundred yards or so from my cottage on the edge of the village. I think it would be perfect for you. You could… You could live there? If you wanted…”
Feluän raked his claws gently across your scalp and you shuddered. “And what of the rest of the village? What would they say about a monster taking up residence in their midst?”
“You’re not a monster,” you hissed, grabbing for his wrists and clinging to him while you glared up into his face. Gods, he was so beautiful, with his sharp features and red, gemstone eyes and his silver-white hair. “You’re not. How could they not love you once they got to know you?”
His throat worked and he lowered his spider body down, drawing his legs in so that he was as close to your eye level as he could get. “Do you really want me to stay?”
“Yes,” you breathed. “Please. I — The thought of you going back to that horrible place with all those bones scattered everywhere, and no life — there’s no life in those woods, Feluän. It’s —” He silenced you with a kiss.
Your lips turned numb almost immediately but you felt his tongue brush yours as he growled and reared over you, overpowering you with just his presence. “The way you said my name,” he said. “No one’s ever spoken my name before. Say it again. I want to hear you say it again.”
“Feluän.”
“When we’re not camping in a forest, I’m going to take you apart, my beautiful human. I’m going to tie you up and take you to pieces when my mouth isn’t dripping with venom.”
“Could be fun for you to have your way with me while I can’t move…” you said.
“You wouldn’t be able to feel it either,” he said, deliberately moving away from you and breathing hard. “Gods, I’m a mess,” he chuckled. You glanced down and saw that he was leaking a little webbing too from the gland at the tip of his abdomen.
“So am I,” you said wryly, because you absolutely were.
“I know. I can smell it,” he said. “Taste it too.”
“Fuck,” you groaned. He’d smelled it earlier as well then, back in the meadow after he’d protected you. “You’d better live up to your promise, Feluän. I’m not letting you go home without feeling some of that silk around my wrists first.”
“Say my name again and I’ll give you anything you want.”
Getting to sleep that night proved difficult to say the least, but it helped that you both talked quietly, with you lying in his arms again, and when you woke to the gentle caress of his knuckles against your cheek, you blinked your eyes open and smiled up at him.
“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, awestruck by the creature looming over you. Honest delight lit up his whole face and he laughed quietly, helping you to your feet and brushing the dry leaves from your clothes and the borrowed cloak he’d lent you.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked as you kicked the cold ashes of the fire apart and made sure you left the forest as you’d found it. “You said we’re within a day’s walk of your home now?”
You nodded. “We’ll probably meet a few of the woodcutters on our way in — they’re working about three or four miles from the village at the moment, cutting hazel for fences and ash for firewood. If we meet anyone, let me do the talking?”
Feluän agreed, and you set off along the main road together.
“I’ll introduce you in the village if you like, and explain where I’ve been, and then I’ll say I’d like you to stay. If… If you want to.”
“I do,” he said. “I don’t have anything in that cave that I would particularly miss, but I could still go back and fetch it if I wanted to.”
The first people you met were indeed Garrick and Mercy, and when the satyr and the half-orc-half-elf saw the drider, they hefted their axes in their hands and stepped warily into the clearing they’d made beside the road. Mercy spotted you and called out your name, and you and Feluän held up your hands.
It took some persuading to let the two of you approach, but when you were close enough, Mercy dropped her axe and hugged you. “We’ve been so worried,” she said, squeezing you tight. With her muscles, it was enough to make you wheeze. “Gwyn and Thom and Gale searched for you for days but even Gale’s werewolf nose lost your scent when it rained. Gods, they’ve been beside themselves.”
“I’m only alive because of Feluän,” you said, gesturing to the pale drider who was waiting on the road. All his eight legs were drawn up tight and he looked tense and wary. At that distance, and in the clear, wintry light, you suspected he also couldn’t see very far, and for someone so powerful, he was probably feeling quite vulnerable. “I’d like him to live here with us. He was living alone in that dark forest, and I don’t think anyone should have to live alone like that. Not if they don’t want to.”
Garrick jutted his small tusks and said, “Driders aren’t exactly sociable creatures. What’s he gonna do around here?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” you said a little defensively. “While I was recovering in his care, he was processing and spinning flax and weaving bolts of cloth, so he could help Rowan, but I don’t think his place here should be determined by what he can do for us, do you?”
Garrick’s eyes darkened with shame, and he shook his head.
“I’ll catch up with you later. Right now, all I want is a bath and a change of clothes.” Your own shirt had been washed while you’d been recovering, and Feluän had stitched it up, but it was still stained with your blood and more than a bit travel-worn now.
The approach to the village was deserted, but when you stepped out from the shady road and into the brilliant, afternoon sun that bathed the thatched houses in stark light, Feluän grunted and closed his eyes, shielding them with one hand and wincing.
“You alright?” you asked.
“It’s so bright,” he rasped. “I… I can’t even see you and you’re right next to me.”
You paused and said, “This way. We’ll take the side road and go along one of the deer paths through the trees to the cave home I’ve got in mind for you. You can meet everyone tonight when the sun’s gone down.”
“I’m sorry.”
Shaking your head, you frowned. “No, Feluän. You have nothing to be sorry for. Let’s go.” You laid your hand on his foremost left leg, and changed direction, heading for the tall oak and beech trees that bordered the village.
You passed by your cottage, though you did point it out to him, and continued up the slope to the small, rocky outcrop where the old cave had sat empty since its previous occupant had moved to be nearer to her relatives. “This used to belong to Dinara,” you said. “She’s a dwarf, but the cave isn’t at her scale, don’t worry.”
He laughed, and now that you were in the shade, you noticed that his eyes were meeting yours again, and he wasn’t squinting so much. “Come here,” he said, and he lowered himself down to kiss you. “Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
“If it’s not, I know people will help you alter it. They helped me build my house when I moved here, so you could always just build something new if it doesn’t suit.”
“You make them sound like good people,” he smiled.
Squeezing his hand, you said, “They are. They’re going to love you, I promise.”
“So long as they don’t try to hack me to bits with their axes… The one you called ‘Garrick’ sounded ready to cut my legs off earlier.”
“He’s protective, not unlike you,” you said wryly. “Come on. Let me show you the cave and see if you want to live there or not.”
“If you’re nearby, it’ll be perfect,” he said smoothly, and you immediately tripped, making him laugh.
In the end, the empty cave house suited him perfectly, and, as you’d predicted, people were wary to start with, but when they heard how he’d saved you and taken care of you, and brought you home, they welcomed him like a long-lost relative — something that clearly moved him deeply. He did bristle when Thom swept you up into his bone-crushing, baker’s arms outside the village inn that night and nuzzled his tusks against your neck and expressed just how worried he’d been about you though.
When you returned to Feluän after Thom had set you down and promised you a week’s worth of free pies and cakes, Feluän was prickly and distant, until you grabbed a hold of his pedipalp and refused to let go as he turned. The moonlight flashed along the polished chitin and the limb straightened as he turned away while you held it, but he twitched back to look at you with his red eyes blazing quietly.
“Feluän…?” you purred. Oh, you liked the way he clearly wanted to be possessive of you but was forcing himself to behave. It made you flush hot all over.
“What?” he hissed, still scowling.
You caressed your hand up the limb to his shoulder and splayed your fingers wide. He gasped.
“You promised me something…”
“What was that?” he said, spreading his legs a little wider, as though he needed the extra stability to brace himself upright all of a sudden. You enjoyed seeing that the effect you had on each other was mutual.
You drew back your hand from him and he rocked forwards as if seeking the contact again. You brought your wrists together and held them out as though waiting to be tied up before looking up into his face.
His white eyelashes fluttered and his red eyes rolled closed for a moment. “Where?” he asked in a whisper. “Where do you want to go?”
“I’m not sure you’ll fit easily in my cottage…”
“You’d be surprised,” he said, “But I’ll take your word for it. I don’t have any furnishings in my new home yet.”
“You can sling me a silk hammock,” you said boldly and he groaned audibly. “You like that? You like the idea of me lying on your silk?”
He choked softly and nodded, jaw working.
“What?”
“I’m trying to keep my venom to myself this time,” he said carefully. “If I don’t let it out, I can put my mouth wherever I want to this time.”
“And where’s that?”
“Let me tie you up and you’ll find out,” he snarled, baring his double canines, patience fraying.
“Take me home then,” you whispered.
He picked you up, letting you loop your legs around his humanoid hips and holding you there with his arms and his two pedipalps while he scuttled away from the village and up the hill to the cave where an oil lamp was already burning softly on a shelf. 
The cave wasn’t so much a cave as a rock-hewn home, with an additional masonry front covering the opening from the elements, and stone shelves cut into the rock inside for storage, and a shelf at the back for a bed and a huge stone bath as well. Spring water was plumbed directly into a copper cylinder for hot water beside a fireplace with a chimney built into the mountainside. It was a vast improvement on his former, tunnel-like home in the forest, and someone had brought up a load of firewood for him.
Before he’d left his new home to greet the rest of the village earlier that evening, Feluän had lit a fire in the grate and it had since filled the space with warmth, driving away the lingering damp of disuse, and as he made his way on his long, skittering legs to the back of the cave, you kissed the chitin of his shoulders and watched the firelight lick along the sculpted shape of his natural armour. He shivered and then rose right up, tucking his abdomen under him and slinging a web across the shelf where the mattress would be when you eventually found him one. For now, a low, secure hammock of web would more than suffice.
He pitched you back onto it and you bounced softly while the drider’s huge body filled the air above you. The power and ‘otherness’ of his body made you hot beneath the skin and set your core burning, and you squirmed softly while he lowered himself down around you, all four right limbs braced on the wall to your left to give him the best angle. It was unnatural and eerie and creepy and wonderful and strange and everything you wanted in that moment, so you raised your hands above your head and crossed your wrists invitingly.
“You’re so good for me,” he purred and you arched upwards. The web hammock was substantial enough that you didn't feel in the least like your bodyweight was going to tear through it, but it left you feeling exposed and at his mercy. He undressed you carefully, his claws peeling the fabric back until you were as naked as he was. His spider’s body twitched and that clear fluid dripped down onto your shin, betraying his own arousal even as your own was made all the more evident to him.
He parted your legs with one clawed hand and carefully pressed the heel of his palm against where you were soaking wet. “Look at you,” he smiled, eyes glinting. “I can smell you. I can’t wait to taste you properly.” Then he licked his hand clean and your brain went blank for a moment as you watched and heard him groan.  
His silk was cool as he wrapped your wrists tightly enough to immobilise your arms and then he secured the line to one of the others, pinning you in place as securely as any rope tied to a headboard ever could be.
“Fuck…” you cursed, arching your spine and spreading your legs. Your clit was swollen and sensitive already, but when he slid his arms underneath your thighs and brought his face close enough that his breath shivered across your wet skin, you gasped and bucked.
Feluän’s tongue teased you to start with as he simply savoured the taste of you, but when he got to work in earnest, his claws pricked your skin and he held you down while you tried to writhe and squirm. You weren’t shy about the sounds you made, and when you saw the way his abdomen was moving in time with his tongue on your body, you realised he was every bit as turned on as you are. You knew that driders didn’t mate the way humans did, and that when he came, he was most likely going to make a mess all over you. The thought of it made your eyes roll.
His nose nudged against your clit as he delved deeper into you with his tongue, moaning and kissing and sucking and devouring. 
“I’m getting close, love,” he whispered in the tiny silence that blossomed around you when he drew back to adjust his grip on your legs. You’d never been rendered immobile like this by a partner before, with your hands tied and your legs clamped in his grip, and you felt your body clench in the absence of his tongue. He laughed, low and seductive. “So are you, aren’t you?”
Mind a blur with pleasure, you just nodded and keened.
“When I come, can I come over you?” he asked, and he sounded utterly wrecked.
“Gods, please,” you gasped, bucking weakly. “Please, anything, Feluän. Please… I need… I need you to… please…”
“Need me to do what, love?” he asked, licking teasingly over you with the tip of his tongue, savouring you without returning to his earlier endeavours to make you come. It was too much and nowhere near enough and you let out a broken sob. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t do it,” he said provocatively.
With a growl of frustration and effort, you wrangled the words into the right order in your hazy mind. “I need you to make me come, Feluän.”
“That’s good,” he praised and you arched upwards, legs parting a little wider for him. “Gods, you’re everything,” he whispered as he leaned back down and closed his mouth around your clit.
You gave another wild yell at the barrage of stimulation, and under a minute later you came with a heaving shout against his mouth. Waves of pleasure swept through you, and only a second after you stuttered out his name again, you heard him give a tiny ‘oh’ of surprise before he reared up, his whole body tensing and starting to shake, before his own release gushed over the spot where his mouth had just been. The heat of his come against you there sent you over the edge again and you thrashed beneath him. He was still coming when he lowered his humanoid torso down atop yours again and pulled you close, one clawed hand around the back of your head.
“Oh gods,” he said, his whole body twitching and coming while he cradled you beneath him. “Oh gods, you’re everything. You’re perfect… gods… oh…”
Eventually, his orgasm faded and he staggered, all his legs moving out of sync as he tried not to crush you while the strength fled his limbs and he collapsed onto the webbing.
You’d never been such a mess after sex, and you’d also never come quite so hard.
He reached dazedly out with one of his taloned pedipalps and carefully slashed through the silk holding your wrists together, then he raised his head a little more to regard you. “Are you alright?” he asked. “That wasn’t too much?”
“Perfect,” you mumbled. “You made a big mess though,” you said when you felt his release sliding over your thighs and hips.
“I’ve never made that much mess,” he said and he looked genuinely embarrassed when he pushed himself upright.  
“Good job there’s a bath over there,” you said, eyeing the basin that was practically a small swimming pool. It was certainly big enough for a drider to soak himself in relative comfort too.  
Feluän staggered over to it and turned the bronze tap that started a flow of hot water from the gigantic cistern beside the fire and then returned to you. “Can I carry you?” he asked, looking shy for the first time in your relatively short acquaintance.
“You’re going to have to. I can’t feel my legs,” you said.
“I didn’t — My venom —” he sputtered in horror. “I —”
“Oh, it’s not you,” you chuckled as you floundered to sit upright. “I mean, it was you, but not your venom.”
He deflated comically in relief and laughed as he scooped you up and bore you towards the tub. Glancing back, you saw that his come was all over the webbing and had dripped through onto the floor.
Feluän set you down on the shelf that ran around the edge of the bath washed you off while it filled. The gentle action of his caring, attentive hands on your body soothed you and worked you up again, and when you moaned and bucked weakly into his hand, he raised an eyebrow. “Again?” he breathed, as though hardly daring to believe it.
“Please?” you whispered, eyes half-closed where you floated in the warm water.
He was careful with his claws, using only the pad of his finger against you, and when you came with a little sigh and heaved into his arms a few minutes later, he smiled at you and leaned down to kiss you. 
“I want to do that to you every day,” he said over the rush of water into the bath. “I don’t want a day to go past where I haven’t seen you make that face for me.”
How could you refuse an offer like that when it was so generously made?
__
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rodolfoparras · 6 months
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Do you know what? I just got the funniest idea in the world (mostly because I think bulling Phillip graves is funny)-
but now I’m imagining making a drunk bet with graves who stated that I couldn’t last one round. And now thanks to that stunning dare he’s basically skewered onto my cock (I’m trans, let me dream) while absolutely sobbing from the amount of times he’s cum while I’m just kind of sitting there scrolling on my phone cuz I got bored
-⚰️
Listen as a trans man myself I totally get it but hear me out
Thinking about being completely unaffected, scrolling through your phone or doing paper work while Graves feels like he’s being split open on your plastic cock, looking like an absolute mess with fat tears rolling down his cheeks sweat slicked hair sticking to his temple as he bounces on your length,
or imagine him down on his knees, under your desk, lips wrapped around your length, tears prickling his eyes and drool pooling to the floor while grinding his hips in hopes of getting any sort of release while you’re just sitting there unbothered and going on about your day like he isn’t whoring himself out in your office for anyone to see
Imagine changing sizes up every day and just when he think he’s getting used to your length you’re pulling out a bigger toy to try out on him. Graves will never want to disappoint even when it stings and hurts, he’ll spend hours getting used to the new size you brought him, preening when you complimenting him for being able to take it
Imagine having him blindfolded tied up even while pushing different dildos inside of him, having him guess which one you’re using on him and if he gets wrong he just won’t get to cum or imagine switching up between dildos and vibrators while he’s tied up and blindfolded and he doesn’t know what to expect, his reactions so much more enhanced because he never knows what’s to come his way
Imagine being sent away on a mission but making sure to take his favorite dildo with you, only leaving him with much smaller sizes which would only leave him unsatisfied and frustrated, he’d still try using them but they would feel nowhere near as good as the new size you’ve worked him up to, he’d even go as far as to FaceTime you while using one of them and the whole time he’s unable to hit his prostate, unable to feel satisfied by the small size, unable to feel full in the way only you can make him feel
Imagine using two dildos on him, cocksheads knocking together while bullying his prostate, and he’s absolutely losing his mind sobbing into the sheets clawing at the mattresses, his own cock hard and weeping between his legs
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mayoonn · 1 month
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A little snippet of my work, I hope you are enjoying it my dear. Don't be afraid to request, I'm into a lot of freaky stuff, well depends but I'm sure there's nothing you should hide from me ;)
This was self insert, bottom trans male reader, no description for the bottom genitalia, Implied no top-surgery and chest was described as small, implied non-con? But not descriptive, creepy man and are called as pigs
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You were working late, again. It was just another boring day, your boss had requested to stay as usual and there wasn't any difference about it. Of course, you were carried away with work that you didn't check the time. By now, it should be midnight as you finished cleaning your desk. You already felt uneasy, knowing there'll be creeps and weirdos out there. You know how wild it is once at midnight struck, you usually take a train on the way to go home.
You were exhausted, not only from work but also life. Why can't you have a normal life? The same thought that plaque in your mind for years. People would discriminate and humiliate you just because you're a trans man, especially when you haven't got enough money for the surgery. At first you didn't mind, sure a little dysphoria here and there but still you're no different than a man plus your chest is as small as it can be. You're always scared of surgery sometimes, the risk and the disadvantages. It's 50/50 chance, isn't it?
The train came by and you walked inside once the doors were opened. The night was so silent that it sometimes comforts you, you sit near the pole and close your eyes for a moment. You just wanted a little rest from the stress, you didn't notice someone was sitting next to you. You finally noticed when his thigh literally rubs into your thighs. You tried not to think about it, the man is literally manspreading. Out of all the seats and he chose next to you? Pigs are what you thought at first, you assumed he's a perverted man who just likes to see other people uncomfortable.
Your brows furrowed in annoyance as you just mind your own business, I was sure the man wanted to get my reaction when he rubbed my thighs. You looked at the man with disgust as you tried to pull away from his hand but his grip was like a steel. He put his finger up to his mouth with his free hand and started to lean closer to your neck. You thrashed around his body and pushed him but he didn't budge, his deep voice chuckled and kissed your neck. He gripped your hip while the other hand slowly caressed from your stomach to your chest and fondled it..
You didn't think this would've happened to you as you slowly bounced on his cock. Tears swelling in your eyes, begging him to stop but the man only rubbed your hips and coo for your comfort. His grip on you was rough and painful yet his kisses and words was so gentle. You quietly moaned, hoping there was no one else in the section, you couldn't handle the humiliation.
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khami-the-raccoon · 6 months
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Hello! How are you?
Could you do Viktor Krum x Russian!Reader? Reader has a heavy accent, knows little english, and has social anxiety? People think that Reader is mean, but they don’t like talking to others and they like to stay quiet?
Hello! I’m doing great, thank you. And also thank you for your request! I loved the idea, I hope this was good! Also, I wrote a male reader, but if you prefer it being gender neutral I can change it, don’t worry!
Viktor Krum x Russian! Male reader
Summary: Viktor Krum x male reader, where reader is Russian and has a heavy accent, also he has social anxiety, and people think he is mean.
Word count: 964
Viktor Krum Masterlist
General Masterlist
Female version
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Y/N had always been an outcast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His heavy Russian accent, made him stand out like a rare, exotic bird in a mundane flock. He was a boy of few words, for fear that each utterance would be met with judgment and ridicule.
Social anxiety wrapped around Y/N like an invisible shroud, casting a shadow on his every interaction. The mere thought of approaching his classmates sent his heart pounding like a racing Hippogriff. It wasn't that he didn't want to make friends; he longed for companionship more than anything. It was simply that the fear of rejection and mockery had built an impenetrable fortress around his heart.
The rumors about Y/N didn't help his situation. Whispers and hushed conversations filled the halls, with students calling him "mean" and "unapproachable." The Russian boy would often hear conversations of people gossiping, it all started with somebody asking “have you ever talked to that guy over there?” While pointing at Y/N, “why would I? Everyone says he is so mean and cold, I don’t like that kind of people! They’re so annoying!” Answered the other person, and Y/N would just walk away, trying not to cry.
He was like an enigmatic puzzle, but one whose solution seemed beyond anyone's grasp. The isolation and negative attention weighed heavily on his heart, leading to lonely evenings and countless nights spent contemplating his place in the magical world.
One day, while Y/N was sitting in the library, engrossed in a book about magical creatures, a shadow fell across his table. He looked up to see Viktor Krum, the renowned Quidditch player and Durmstrang champion. Viktor's presence, like a beacon of hope, elicited a mixture of excitement and anxiety in Y/N. He had watched Viktor's Quidditch matches with admiration, but now the champion was standing before him.
"May I sit here?" Viktor asked, his deep voice resonating with warmth and kindness. Y/N's heart raced, and he felt a rush of anxiety, but he managed a nod. Viktor took a seat across from him, his dark eyes filled with a curiosity that felt genuine.
"Y/N, is it?" Viktor inquired, pronouncing his name with precision. Y/N nodded again, his cheeks turning a shade of pink, and he barely managed to respond with a quiet, "Yes."
Viktor smiled gently. "I have heard things about you, but I do not believe everything I hear. People can be quick to judge."
Y/N bit his lip, trying to suppress his anxiety. "I'm not as bad as they say I am," he managed to say, his voice shaky but earnest.
Viktor leaned in closer, creating a cocoon of intimacy within the library's quiet confines. "I believe you," he said, his gaze unwavering. "Sometimes, people misunderstand shyness for rudeness."
As weeks turned into months, Viktor continued to visit Y/N in the library. Their conversations began with simple topics, like Quidditch and favorite magical creatures, but slowly progressed to deeper subjects. Y/N felt his anxiety easing in Viktor's presence, and he found solace in their friendship.
One day, Viktor approached the table in the library where Y/N usually sat, and was surprised, as he saw Y/N laying his head in the table and softly crying.
“Y/N… what happened?” Viktor asked, trying not to sound harsh and instead offering Y/N comfort. The Russian boy looked up at Viktor and sobbed. “They keep making fun of me…” Y/N said while shaking. Viktor looked at him sadly “I’m so sorry Y/N…” he said. And offered Y/N a hug, which he gladly accepted.
As they sat together, Viktor said, "Y/N, you're an amazing person. Don't let what others say define you. I see the kindness and intelligence in you." Y/N's eyes shimmered with gratitude, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of self-confidence, he stopped crying and smiled softly.
With Viktor's support and guidance, Y/N's social anxiety began to diminish. He started to interact with other students and gradually opened up to new friendships. The gossip about him being "mean" slowly faded away, replaced by a newfound understanding of his true nature.
But the most profound change was the love that bloomed between Y/N and Viktor. Their connection deepened, and their hearts became entwined. In Viktor's arms, Y/N found not just love but also the strength to overcome his fears and anxieties.
They often found themselves sneaking off to secluded spots in the Hogwarts grounds. It was in one of these quiet moments, beneath a blanket of stars, that Y/N finally shared his deepest fear with Viktor.
"Viktor, I want to be brave like you. I want to be able to speak without my voice trembling and not hide from others. But it's so hard," Y/N confessed, his eyes filled with vulnerability.
Viktor's response was filled with tenderness. "Y/N, you are already brave. You've faced your fears, and you continue to do so every day. You don't need to change who you are. You are perfect just the way you are." Viktor said, and finally kissed the boy he loved with all his heart.
Y/N smiled, his cheeks turning a pink color. He was feeling the warmth of Viktor's words wrap around his heart like a protective shield. With Viktor by his side, he began attending social gatherings and even participated in his first Quidditch match, his anxiety slowly becoming a distant memory.
Their love story became an inspiration to those around them. The students who once believed Y/N was "mean" now saw the kindness and strength within him. And it was Viktor's unwavering support that had transformed Y/N's life.
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meltedheartz · 1 month
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thinking about how weird yandere!paul atreides would be ..
he's such a freak. an absolute weirdo around you, all lingering eyes and adoring smiles flashed your way.
paul knows you think he's a little off. a little too touchy with you, following you around like a lost puppy... you don't get it. he doesn't think you would, but he also doesn't quite care.
it's in the way he stares at you, albeit from a distance. the way he smiles. how he speaks to you. how he acts. all of it is a little unsettling, in plenty of ways.
after all, you're a boy... in the eyes of other people of course.
in your defense, you never bothered to reveal you aren't biologically a guy. no one asked! no one cared! no one thought about it! you passed so naturally, it was better to just blend.
you're rugged in all sorts of ways.
when you were nothing but a child, you'd climb atop of things you shouldn't have, you'd fight the other boys with fists and teeth, not hesitating to wield a sword or gun and join battle.
certainly, your parents fully believed you were the outcast of the family. the black sheep, the freak, the one they'd stash under the stairs to hide you from the world.
it got real bad when you cut your hair and would wrap fabric around your chest just to make sure you looked more masculine in the eyes of many. surely, you were crazy? you had to have been. going out in public like that — when you're supposed to be their precious daughter, their darling baby they'd dress in ribbons and bows, all sorts of jewelry.
you weren't really interested in those things... you like fighting. you like who you are. it's so much more comfortable, you feel so much safer.
until paul atreides comes around.
when you two first met, it was cordial. he kept a distance, despite being stony faced, he'd smiled at you and offered his name, asking for yours.
the two of you shake hands, professional and solely there for business. until you're sent to arrakis, and, well, it goes sideways.
he starts following you like a stray on the street... so eager to be near you, to feel the warmth of your scarred, rough hands; to stare at you and admire all the gashes and beatings you've received from your battles.
and it's just.. ugh. you hate it. you feel like you're being stalked everywhere you go, asking him dumb questions like, "shouldn't you be with chani??" "you don't have anything to be tending too, at the moment...?" "ah, are you sure you want to watch me spar and train? surely you have elsewhere to be." it irks him, just a little bit. ever since paul had locked eyes with you, his visions changed.
would he ever say what he saw? mm, maybe not. wouldn't want to scare you off!
but until he does make those visions a reality, he'll watch you from a distance. evaluate just why he sees children that look like the perfect mix of you and himself, why he sees so many different variations of wedding rings, why he sees you sleeping beside him in bed as he dreams.
just... until then. paul swears he'll make it a reality.
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lone-wolf-nergiganos · 11 months
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Like and reblog if you can relate to this:
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erotiquax · 8 days
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❛❛ 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐃 ❜❜
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╰┈➤ prince oc x his knight, [Name].
In which , Ambrose of Agostino, gets jealous cause someone’s flirting with [Name], his bf (not yet). SFW, male!reader.
warnings ; jealousy, possessiveness (?) nothing that serious.
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[Name] was in the courtyard of the palace, he went outside to get some fresh air. He was out of breath from the rough day he had. He glanced at the sunset who’s merely a prelude to the dawn, yet its majesty fills his mind with the most beautiful color.
the warm wind gently breeze his face. he wanted to sit on the green lawn, but a man of his age came towards him. It was not the prince, whom he had always accompanied, but a Duke, who was visiting the crown prince. 'Does he know lost himself ?’ He thought. The duke with brown hair adorned with curls moved closer and closer towards him, until he was in front of [Name]'s face.
[Name] bowed to the duke, in a form of respect. “don’t bow down my dear.” Said the Duke. with his finger, he raised the guard's head to make him look into his eyes. He stroked his hand on [Name]'s soft cheek. “aren’t you cute for a guard” he whispered in his ear. The feeling of the air passing through his ears made him shiver a little. [Name] straightens up. "What can I do for you, your grace ?" He exclaimed, putting his hand on his chest. “let’s see, be my guard instead.” a mischievous smile was on his face.
He didn't know what to say, no words wanted to come out of his mouth. He was a little embarrassed by the situation. He didn't even know this person, but the Duke was very unpleasant and tried to seduce him. he would prefer the presence of his prince, who irritated him every day. A silence engulfed the courtyard before [Name] said something "well—" he was interrupted by a voice behind them, yet so familiar to the men. "Vernon, shouldn't you learn not to touch anyone who isn't yours?" The prince's voice was quite neutral, however deep inside him a vast jealousy was hidden.
He walked towards his guard, and put his arm around his waist. He grabbed his hand in a firm, tight grip. He was annoyed and irk when someone beneath him would dare touch what belonged to him.
“Get out of my sight.” he held [Name] close to him, as a sign of possession and he clicked his tongue. Vernon pursed his lip, defiantly staring at him, showing his bold disobidience. Finally he gave in and left, returning to the palace. Ambrose smirked on his lip and licked his sultry edge.
The older man leans his chin in [Name]’s neck crook "i've got hatred toward bold person, who toy with you're little heart" he stated, and hugs his back. "swear, i didn't know." he spoke sarcastically as he rolls his eyes
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