#wriothesely smut

[chiscaralight]

men who grow to become pussy eaters. they could even start out hating it. they don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with the concept, but the first time he sets himself between your legs, hands gripping your thighs and face to face with your soaked cunt, he knows he’s made a big mistake by denying himself this treasure for so long.

it’s a common occurrence now. holding you down, bending you a ton of different ways just to make sure you can get up as close to his face as possible. tongue assaulting your hole, nose brushing against your swollen clit, he’ll keep going until you’re weeping from overstimulation!

and when he discovers face sitting? oh my god, you're screwed. he’ll lock you onto his face, his tight hold only allowing you to writhe and squirm atop him while he absolutely abuses that pretty pussy of yours! you’re grinding against his face and the way he’s groaning into your heat is almost punching your orgasm out of you, not that he’ll care anyway. he’ll drink it all up, lapping around you like a dehydrated animal before he picks up speed again, wet muscle darting around as he gets drunk off your taste once more.

just men who now eat pussy for their own pleasure, too!

TARTAGLIA. scaramouche. ayato. ITTO. kinich. AVENTURINE. dr ratio. JING YUANNNNN. SUKUNA. geto. GOJO!!!. wriothesley. kaeya. BLADE. welt yang, DILUC. alhaithamjfnskejnkje. neuvilette!

+ your favs!

[reshinless]

Hii! I wanna request for a nsfw single dad! Wriothesley or Moze x kindergarten teacher! reader that takes care of their kids for them while they're at work 🤔

Thank you!! 🩷

──── age ain't nun but a number

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. when he feels something for the single kindergarten teacher that their kid accidently calls them mom/dad. can't help the pretty thought of getting to call you his either

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. wriothesley x gn!afab!reader (i use the term pussy :3)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. i've yet to read about headcannons on moze! for now please settle with wriothesley only :pray:

wriosthesley recently started to send his lovely daughter off to school, specifically kindergarten (homeschooled her for nursery). waving her off as she looks off to the classroom- before turning around to face him with small tears prickling her redish-pink eyes.

"baby, what's wrong?" he calms her down shortly after, but still with a sigewinne who was still visibly saddened at the thought of leaving her dad.

all of a sudden, a gorgeous figure comes out of the classroom, and kneels beside wriothesley in a way to calm sigewinne down as well.

"hi sweetheart, what's your name?" you took the small blue haired girl's palms into yours, they were a little cold. "i-'im sige-sigewinne!" almost as if completely cheering up after seeing how beautiful you were, her father completely stunned as well.

"i'm (name), how about you come in and meet the other kids inside, would you like that?" the small girl quickly nodded at your words, watching as you stood back up and offered your hand out to her, sigewinne who takes it just as fast, holding onto one of your fingers.

as you let the bunny-like girl into the classroom, you walk back up to flushed face of her father. "t- thank you for that. i- i- um.. i'm wriothesley." he offers out a hand as you chuckle lightly. "i'm (name), does she get anxious without you or was that because this is her first time away from you?"

"ah.. the second. you .. the teacher of the classroom?" "mmmm, yes i am." oh your voice was just as lovely as your face. his eyes scanned over your features while you discussed details on sigewinne's schedule. subtly checking you out before his eyes trail back up to see you aren't talking anymore. oh.

"oh.. ahem-" he coughs awkwardly to excuse his actions as your own face flushes a little. "i'll send you the rest via... hmm, where can i contact you?" perfect- a way to get your number!

"ah just.. here." he hands his phone to you, as you added it to your contact list. "i'll send it to you there then." you bowed and left to tend to your class of 20 kindergarten students. fuck you were beautiful.

cut to a few months into school days, sigewinne is doing great all but in one subject. which results wriothesley having to ask you for a bit of tutoring just for sigewinne, openly inviting you into their house.

you agree, not minding helping another kid. as you drove over to his house; you felt a little bit of fuzz in your heart, seeing a moderately-sized house, with fence which looks like its supposed to be white; was colored to be coincidentally the colors of sigewinne's hair. random strokes and lines scattered all over each standing wooden plank, you couldn't help but laugh a little.

as you got out, you observed out the sidewalk near his home had hopskotch sketches on the floor as well, how adorable. as wriothesley opened the door to welcome you inside, the house seemed pretty spacy.

"i know its not much, but this house was closest to the school." he chuckled as he led you over to where sigewinne was waiting. "tell me if you need anything."

wow he sounds even better upclose. his smile is pretty too, the apron he wore as he baked sigewinne-shaped cookies was pretty cute as well.

but as much as it all seemed very adorable, and fluffy. wriothesley couldn't lie what he'd been feeling the last few months in knowing you, and knowing how much sigewinne looks up to you, even overhearing the way she accidently calls you mom/dad, meaning that even if he proposed right here and now; his daughter would gladly accept. his last partners she never approved of- but with you, it's almost like she was actively trying to get you together.

before he walks into the room to ask if you and sigewinne are hungry; he hears her ask a little question. "miss/mister (name)! do you like my daddy?" sigewinne tugs at the hem of your sleeve. "ah- w- what do you mean?" "you like daddy, right? because you always smile when you go to escort me back to him, i don't see you do that to like.. aika's dad! or amira's mom! so you like daddy!"

unbeknownst to you; the strong, and big reputation fighter wriothesley blushed behind the closed door, hearing every little aspect of the conversation. putting the desserts back before putting his ear against the door again. "your daddy is nice, but i can't have relationships with my student's parents. it's unprofessional." "so you would date daddy if you didn't work here? oh but i'm gonna miss you in class if you leave!"

you found it adorable how she thought you'd leave your job for wriothesley, but you definitely couldn't afford doing so; not at the expense of your own living space being taken from you again.

"i just.. i guess you're a little right, 'winne. but i can't do that right now." "daddy makes enough money! this is only one of his houses!" "alright alright that's enough, let's get back to studying."

something so innocent, yet so captivating about the way you talked about him, you simply agreed about smiling the more you saw him. he felt mutual about it. ah- damn he shouldn't think the way he does about you, catching himself palming his urgent erection through the fabric of his boxers at night to the thought of your entrance sinking onto his length so politely- he's getting ahead of himself now.

but fuck it'd definitely be hot, to feel you on him, or watch how he'd be the one to arch your back as you creamed onto his cock. oh fuck, guess the pastries will wait. off to the bathroom he goes.

oh but the thought of you just bending over for him, telling him it's all his, he definitely could bust right here and now. stroking his girth, imagining how it'd be so slippery, so vulnerable just taking it like anyone would.

shit he already felt it coming- his dick definitely felt a lot more sensitive than last time he thought of jerking off to you; and damn did it feel good as hell. damn, was that already his cum on his own stomach.. he came at the thought of you again. third time this week. huh.

he came out, pulling his pants a bit, looking a little disshelved, more than earlier at least as you saw him walk by. "hey, i put her to sleep for now." you wave to him as you round the corner from her room. "mmm? that's good." he took a seat beside you, "oh uh, and i have a little favor to ask, you mind i stay for now? the rain doesn't seem like it'll let up anytime soon."

"yeah, sure, make yourself at home, baby." he hadn't realized the slip of tongue of calling you the nickname, barely noticing the clear flustered state he had put you in. "huh, what's with the face?"

you looked away, admitting it was nothing, 'till he ringed a strong arm around your shoulders, using his finger to make you look into his eyes, turning your head back to his. "then you'd tell me, yeah?"

you couldn't avoid how attractive it was, it was a swift reaction. you could feel something pooling/hardening down in your lower region, "it's really.. u- um nothing. i just.. i.." you held eye contact with him for a bit before you felt a hand grasp your hair from behind your head, pushing your lips into his.

you reciprocated the kiss for a bit, as you pulled away, eyes opened in shocked, as wriothesley looked like it was a normal thing between you two. "has anyone told you how pretty you are?

"..." "does it make you nervous when i stare? sorry, it's a habit when you're that gorgeous." "this.. is.. this is unprofessional! i- i'm sorry i-" you try to explain before he pulls you closer with his arm, "sigewinne sees you as a parent figure, it's fine."

"c'mere, pretty, she won't know we did this, and no one else will, not unprofessional if no one else will know. i know you want me too." he stroked your cheek, a smirk appeared on his face, while he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "come on, break the rules just once, i'll show you a good time."

...

he had you pinned onto his mattress upstairs, clothes stripped and onto the floor, now he could finally observe all and every inch he's been longing to see of you. trailing his palms all over your body, exploring it as much as he could. "just.. tell me to stop if i need to, 'kay?"

he already pried your legs open with just his words, one of his snake up to the other, holding it with a gentle, and soft touch, making sure you knew he cared about the way you felt about what he was doing.

but it was the way it was basically, your pussy was calling to him, the way they tightened around his fingers. "damn- already wet for me, baby?" he teased as he lowered his head to set a kiss on your cheek, watching you whimper, and arch your back from the simple art of getting played with (and it was just his fingers, just imagine his cock!!)

as he unbuckled his belt, shit you couldn't deny the sound of hearing his pants lower and drop the ground turned you on so much- ahh you could already imagine the way it'd feel inside. but you didn't have to imagine because he already lowered his cock to enter inside you, shit you could feel your already split in half from just the tip.

you can feel his girth, every vein, and inch, you could feel everything. "shh baby, i know you can take it." you could feel a reassuring squeeze on your palm. you could feel his forehead in contact with your as he slowly continued to penetrate, so slowly, so sensually. you felt a plethora of emotions, the guilt being quickly washed over with pleasure.

"ah- uhuh? you like that? like the way my cock kisses your stomach, sweetheart?" he teases into the shell of your ear. sending shudders down your spine, kissing your neck briefly. "ahh- mmf! yes, i do.." you whimper out with shame, the way his shaft smacked against your g-spot felt so good.

your legs started to tremble. you could feel his skin slap onto yours, making loud sounds that definitely would wake his neighbors up.

the strength in his palms that kept your thigh up on his shoulder now never faltered. hearing each moan felt like he only wanted to penetrate you even more.

"ah ah ah. careful with your sound so, pretty. you might wake up 'winnie." coy teasing is heard from the low rasp of his voice- damn he knew what he was doing. it was hard as hell to keep it down if his cock made such an adorable bulge in your stomach.

reaching for your swollen clit, rubbing over it with his thumb- oh fuck you could feel your third orgasm coming already. it didn't help how quickly he thrusts inside you, adding onto the euphoria you felt pooling in your stomach. the pressure only got worse the more you could hear his groans.

you started to clench onto the base of his cock, making it even harder for him to penetrate your stomach the way he did previously. "damn baby- relax, tryna keep me in there, or something?" he teased, promptly speeding up his digit over your pussy.

"haahn- gonna.. gonna c-cum wrio- fffuck!" you moaned loudly, squirting succus, as wrio holds your hips close to his own.

"hooollyy shiiit.. came all over me baby." he says breaths between his words.

he slowly pulled out of you, finally leaving your puffy hole alone, keeping one of his hands on your cunt still. "stay still, pretty." he licked a stripe over it, progressively lapping up the mix of cum between you both in your hole.

there was just something about either keeping every last drop in there, or at least letting himself have a taste to indulge in more intimacy as you calm down from your high (or cum on his tongue again, whatever you want.)

wriothesley who carries you bridal style to the bathroom. cleaning you up, and lets you borrow some of his clothes for the mean time before you go back home.

"dad! look! there's a storm outside!" sigewinne points out, her little finger out the window, cheek against the glass.

seems like you won't leave for now, how about you stay for the night?

[adorekento]

Spice up your life, come get a freak! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings (18+): MDNI. explicit sexual content, sexual fantasies (riding, doggy style, cock warming, masturbation (m), grinding), boss x worker, blowjob, strong language, mature themes, etc.

characters: SUGURU, TOJI, KENTO, SUKUNA, WRIOTHESLEY, AL HAITHAM, CAPITANO, DOTTORE, ( your choice )

Your boss who always frown and only smillin or nodding when it’s necessary—usually only for the higher-ups and stuff

He’s grumpy and quick to scold anyone who slips up or doesn’t meet his expectations.

But you? you’re different..

You do every instructions given to you, sometimes even going above and beyond...

like...

"Should've expected that you'd be good at everything."

He says, smirking as he watches you work your pretty lips around his thick cock. His hand tugs at your hair, guiding you as he groans, feeling the heat of your mouth.

The way you looked up at him with those eyes that were half-lidded and full of desire.. it just makes him feel excited.

It’s funny how he imagined (quite a lot) bending you over his desk with that tight pencil skirt of yours barely keeping your curves as he takes you from behind.

He knows it well that it’s not just him who’s thought about it.

I mean who would NOT think about it?

You literally would always show up at the office looking so hot with those files on your left arm, your makeup that would often match your clothes of long sleeve tops and that pencil skirts of yours that—he can't stop beating his shit to—just look too perfect for you.

It's like you’ve got a whole wardrobe full of those skirts... not like he's complaning tho...

And those stockings of yours..? DAMN.

They make you look even sexier, hell it would always be having people turn their heads everytime you walk by.

It’s utterly hard for him to ignore the way that bulge in his pants grows whenever you’re near.

Especially when you would bend over to pick up those papers you accidentally dropped—the papers he made fall on purpose just to get a better view of that fucking hips of yours.

Surely the other guys in the office had once imagine you on your knees under their desks.. relieving their stress while pretending to focus on their work.

Maybe it's not just him who has fantasies about you riding their cock.. your body trembling with every movement as you grind down on it.

They would always imagine you trying to stay still while he’s buried deep inside feeling you clench around him in the process...

He’d slap that perfect ass of yours if you move too much.

In public, you may look like the epitome of innocence... but there's a side in you that nobody ever saw.

Everyone may think you're that cutesy, sweet, and demure female..

but in private? you're anything but that.

You’re good at keeping that face while being a total freak in the sheets, and that’s what really drives him fucking crazy.

Oh, he was sure you're the spice he needed.

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

… 𝙄𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠? ᯓ★୭ ˚. l

synopsis: genshin men and some of their kinks that surprised you a bit…but might as well match their freak?

tags: sub!reader, size kink, cum play, orgasm control

a/n: my bestie @astarionapologist helped me make these certified freaky !!!

☆ 𝙕𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙞 -> 𝙎𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙠 ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

More specifically, Morax, has got to have the biggest size kink. The thought of taking his human and their measly body sent a cold wave through his scales.

Of course he’s impossibly huge, and the thought of trying to take it inside you is both terrifying and exhilarating.

…

'I want to show you what it's like,' Zhongli says, his voice soft and gentle. 'I want to share this part of myself with you.' He says, guiding you into your bedroom as he towers over your frame; forcing you to look up into his lapis eyes.

Before you can answer, he's on you, his massive body pressing you against the wall. His shaft is pressing against your entrance, and you can feel the heat of it radiating through your clothes.

'Are you ready, my love?' he asks, his voice a low growl.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not sure if you're ready, but you want this more than anything.

As his single arm is enough to hold your body against the wall, his other is pulling at your robes.

Zhongli enters you slowly at first, his shaft stretching you wider than you've ever been stretched before. You cry out as he fills you, your body trembling with the effort of taking him inside you.

But Zhongli doesn't stop. He keeps pushing, his cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you until you're completely impaled on him. You can feel him pulsing inside you, his energy coursing through your veins and making you feel more alive than you've ever felt before.

'Taking me so well…y/n,' he growls, his voice rough and raw. '… so, so perfect.” he manages to say, feeling your walls practically strangle him.

He starts to move, his shaft sliding in and out of you with rough, powerful strokes. You cry out with each thrust, the pleasure overwhelming you.

' harder,' you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. 'I can take it.'

Zhongli responds, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. You can feel him losing control, his massive body trembling with the effort of holding back. Moreso now hearing how much you’re actually enjoying this, something he was so worried about.

'Fuck-,' he growls, his voice barely audible. 'I'm going to come. I can't hold back any longer.' You feel his forked tongue lick your ear, making you groan louder as you feel his hand on your lower stomach, tracing the shape of his cock inside you; getting off to how big he must feel inside your womb.

'Do it,' you gasp, your body quivering with anticipation. 'Please- fill me up. I want to feel it inside me Moraz!-“

With a final, desperate thrust, Zhongli comes, his energy surging through you and making you see stars. You cry out, your body shaking with the force of your own orgasm.

☆ 𝙏𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙖 -> 𝘾𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮 ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

Something about Tartaglia being such a family man and wanting to 100% breed you makes it way too plausible that he’s into cum, especially on your face.

…

'Come here, baby,' he growls, beckoning you closer.

You eagerly comply, dropping to your knees before him and wrapping your eager hands around his girth. You can feel the heat radiating from his member, and you can't wait to taste him.

'That's it' Tartaglia moans as you begin to stroke him, your fingers slick with his precum. 'Just like that.'

You take the tip of his cock into your mouth, savoring the salty taste of him. He groans, his hands fisting in your hair as you begin to suck him in earnest. You can feel his cock swelling in your mouth, growing harder and hotter as you worship him.

'Fuck,' Tartaglia pants, his hips bucking as you take him deeper. 'Your little mouth feels so good.'

You moan around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his balls tightening, and you know he's close. You redouble your efforts, determined to make him cum harder than ever before.

'Y/n, I'm gonna...fuck!-' Tartaglia cries out, his cock twitching as he releases a massive load of cum down your throat. You swallow what you can eagerly, savoring the taste of him and basking in the knowledge that you pleased him so thoroughly.

But Tartaglia isn't done yet. He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still hard and glistening with your saliva. He reaches down, smearing his tip around on your face, leaving a thick, sticky trail of cum across your cheek.

'Look at you, my love,' he growls, his eyes dark with lust. 'So cute with my cum painting your face.'

You blush, but you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at his words.

'You like that huh?' Tartaglia asks, his fingers tracing patterns in the cum on your cheek. 'You like it when I cum on your face?'

You nod, unable to speak as you watch him play with his load. He smears it around your face, coating your cheeks and forehead with his essence.

Tartaglia grins, his eyes shining with excitement.

'Then maybe next time, I'll cum inside you,' he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. 'But for now, my love, I have to go meet with the other harbingers. I'll see you later, okay? He says? Flicking your forehead before zipping up his pants and flashing you a smile.

“Count on it.”

☆ 𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙮 -> 𝙊𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨𝙢 𝘿𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙡 ୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ

This man will demand respect from you, not because he’s so stern and moralus, but because he finds it so hot to be able to control you in such an intimate way.

You groan as you enter Wriothesley's office, your body already aching for his touch. He looks up from his paperwork, a wicked grin crossing his face as he beckons you over to his desk with a single finer. You waste no time closing the door behind you, locking it tight as you make your way over to him.

'I was beginning to think you'd never get here,' he says, his voice low and husky. He stands up from his chair, towering over you as he pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue probes your mouth, demanding entry as his hands roam your body.

'I've been thinking about you all day,' you admit, your voice breathless as you wrap your arms around his neck.

'Good,' he growls, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt. He pulls it up and over your head, tossing it aside as his lips find your neck. You moan as he nips at your skin, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

'You know I have a meeting in ten minutes,' he says, his voice muffled against your skin.

'Then you better make it quick,' you reply, your voice dripping with desire and eagerness.

He chuckles, his hands working at the button and zipper of your pants. He pushes them down, along with your underwear, leaving you standing in front of him in nothing but your bra. He takes a step back, his eyes raking over your body as he takes in the sight of you.

'Fuck, you're beautiful,' he says, his voice filled with reverence.

You blush at the compliment, but the heat in your cheeks is quickly replaced by a surge of desire as he steps closer to you once again. His hands roam your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the fabric of your bra.

'You like that?' he asks, his voice husky.

‘Yes,' you moan, your hips grinding against his as you seek out the friction you crave, getting pushed back into sitting atop his desk as your knees buck.

He chuckles, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. He unhooks it, letting it fall to the ground.

He reaches for you again, pulling you close as he kisses you deeply. His hands roam your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, and you can't help but grind against him.

He breaks the kiss, his lips finding your ear.

‘You really want me to fuck you, don’t you?' he asks, his voice low and husky.

'Yes,' you moan, your voice desperate as you cling onto his collar.

He chuckles, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub slow circles around it, his touch light and teasing.

'Beg for it,' he says, his voice commanding.

'Please-' you whisper, your hips grinding against his hand. 'Please fuck me.'

He chuckles, his fingers still circling your clit.

'Beg harder,' he says, his voice low and dangerous, his smirk plastered into his face.

'Please, I need it,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, Wrio….'

He growls, his fingers quickening their pace.

He lets out a deep groan, 'You're so wet for me,' he says, his voice filled with lust.

He slides a finger inside of you, his thumb still rubbing circles around your clit. You moan as he starts to move his finger in and out of you, his pace slow and teasing.

'Did I tell you to stop?,' he says again, his voice low and commanding.

'Please, I need it,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, Wriothesley, I need you…”.

He growls, his finger sliding out of you. He grabs your hips, spinning you around so that your back is facing him. He pushes you down, bending you over his desk as he positions himself behind you.

'You're mine,' he growls, his cock pressed against your entrance.

'Yes-!,' you moan, your body trembling with desire.

He thrusts into you, hard and deep. You moan as he starts to move, his hips slamming against yours as he fucks you rough and raw.

He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub slow circles around it, his touch light and teasing.

'You're not allowed to cum, got that?,' he says, his voice low and dangerous.

'What…?!’ you moan, your body trembling with desire.

'You heard me,' he says, his voice firm. 'You're not allowed to cum unless I say so.'

'But-' you start to protest, but he cuts you off with a thrust of his hips.

'No,' he growls, his fingers still circling your clit. 'You'll do as you're told.'

You moan, your body trembling with desire as you try to hold back your orgasm. He continues to fuck you rough and raw, his fingers still circling your clit.

'Please,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, I need to cum-“

'Not yet,' he says, his voice firm.

You moan, your body trembling with need as you try to hold back your orgasm. But it's too much, and you can feel it building inside of you.

'Please,' you moan, your voice desperate. 'Please, let me cum.'

He growls, his fingers quickening their pace, tricking you into believing he’d ever let you have your high right now, pulling out completely and giving your ass a heavy smack.

'Good girl,' he says, his voice low and husky.

You blush at the compliment, still angry at the fact he wouldn’t let you finish. But you knew he was in it for the long game, he didn’t need to say it but you knew he was promising to make you finish at least 5 times the next time he gets his hands on you.

'Thank you,' you say, your voice breathless.

He chuckles, pulling out of you and helping you to straighten up.

'Anytime,' he says, his voice filled with lust.

'I'll hold you to that,' you say, your voice playful.

'I have no doubt,' he says, his voice low and husky.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[crepezinhos]

"Show me how you want this, you little slut!"

That was basically all you've heard from him in the last couple of hours. Arched at an impossible angle, face staring at the roof because of your poor hair being so rudely pulled in his direction, moaning and whining like crazy as he relentlessly took you to paradise with his swift thurts, your hands and legs shaking due to the exhaustion of being at that position for him. He had also called you so many names at this point that it even made you wonder if he was really just 'stressed' from work. But you couldn't deny you loved it when he was willing to fulfill every single corner of your hungry pussy just because you felt slightly horny, so you obeyed his command, lifting your shaky knees just so he could have an even better vision of your ass with the marks of the slaps of his hand, causing the grip of his other hand in your hips to tighten to a point where he could break them if he wanted to and a low groan to roam inside his throat.

"Good girl... now stay like this f'me until I'm done, okay?"

After all, who would've guessed the same man that railed you so good that he satisfied the next 5 months of sex... was the same one giving you tea like he wasn't reason for you to be looking at him so exhausted and broken? Trying to decipher how did he manage to act so normal after letting all his secret desires to come out of its cage and take over his consciousness again?

"What is it? Don't you want some tea?"

Diluc Ragvindr, Kinich, Tartaglia/Childe, Kamisato Ayato, Shikanoin Heizou, Cyno, Wriothesley, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Al Haitham, Neuvillette.

[doloresbutitsdolly]

Body-ody!

Tw: body appreciation, just simping over men bigger than you

There's something so, enticing about his physical appearance. How much bigger he is than you. How much taller, much stronger he is compared to you.

He could be lounging on the couch, taking up most of its space, leaving a small gap for you to squeeze yourself into (most of the time you end up on his lap, snuggled up and cozy).

He could be carrying something with ease. Like the time you ask him for help with the heavy boxes you needed to move. Unsurprisingly, he picked one up with one hand when you could barely push it using your body weight. He knows, oh he knows. That's why he flexes any chance he gets. He picks you up like it's nothing before swinging you over his shoulder and into the bedroom.

"Like what you see, baby?" he'd asked with a smug smile on his face.

He loves how you fawn over him. It makes him feel oh so masculine. It boosts his ego when he realises how riled up you get when he shows how big he is.

And when you're taking him so well, he can't help but press loving kisses on your face. He loves his little baby, his baby who tries so hard to be good for him.

He can't help but smile as you're panting and sweating, "m'trying, you're too big!" you'd say and all he can do is brush your hair away to the side before bucking up his hips to help you. You'd squeal before lightly smacking his chest for his action. He'd laugh before kissing you, your annoyed look slowly melting away.

You love your big boy, don't you?

[ollieolliewrld]

Genshin Men in Bed (NSFW)(afab!reader)

What the men of Genshin would be like during sex~ Characters: Alhaitham, Arataki Itto, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Wriothesley, Zhongli

*CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT 18+*

1.8k words

Alhaitham

♡Behind closed doors, this man will use you until you break

♡He loves you very dearly but you have given yourself to him and he will take advantage of that

♡ Tieing you up so that your arms and legs are restrained just so he can toy with your body for hours

♡ He starts with his hands touching and grabbing every part of you avoiding the heat that is growing in between your legs

♡ Teasing you until you are begging for him

♡ Alhaitham drinks in the image of you completely powerless underneath him, begging for his mercy

♡ Slowly he brings his hand to where you need it and slowly beings to play with you

♡ Eye contact is big for him, he is very observant and wants to study the look in your eyes as you feel him enter inside you

♡ He will not let you cum unless you are looking into his eyes

♡ He likes it rough, leaving marks and bruises along your body

♡ They serve as reminders that you belong to him 

♡ Big fan of having mirrors in the bedroom so you can make you watch as he fucks you

♡ Will pull your head back to make eye contact with him in the mirror 

♡ “Look at what a mess you are for me”

♡ You get so flustered and embarrassed it's such a turn-on for him

♡ He loves to whisper things into your ear whether it is in public or in your home the blush that forms on your cheeks sends him into a frenzy

♡ Every reaction he has is calculated and planned, seeing you react so organically is intriguing

♡ He tests you to see your reactions, the gasp when he grabs you from behind, the look in your eyes as he places his hand around your neck, how you lay there intoxicated by pleasure after being played with for hours

Arataki Itto

♡ This man is very eager to please, wanting to make sure you are satisfied at all times

♡ He is a giant puppy ready to do whatever you tell him 

♡ Arataki doesn’t have a preference for who’s in charge

♡ Having you on top of him, your hand on his throat as you ride him

♡ Watching as he struggles to still his hips from thrusting up into you

♡ Hearing him beg you to let him fuck you and making him wait as you slowly roll your hips on top of his

♡ The whines he lets out are music to your ears

♡ When you do let him be in charge he will make sure you have trouble walking the next day

♡ Not even bothering to flip you over he simply lifts you up and thrusts up into you

♡ His strength keeps you stable on your knees as he chases his high

♡ Absolutely loves to go down on you

♡ Gets drunk on having you in his mouth

♡ Addicted to the way you taste, the way to say his name, the feeling of your fingers in his hair

♡ He loves having your juices all over his face making him a glistening mess

♡ Gets turned on when you start to buck your hips against him, using him to get yourself off

♡ He gets off to the thought of you using him for your own pleasure 

♡ You make him watch as you grind on his thigh not letting him touch you 

♡ His length growing hard as he watches your face contort in pleasure

♡ Just wants you to tell him he’s a good boy

♡ He is so eager to fuck you and make you proud of him

Neuvillette 

♡ He wants to have control in the relationship 

♡ Neuvillette wants to keep his work and his personal life separate and does his best to limit how often you visit him at work

♡ He becomes suspicious when you arrive in his office as he has told you coming here was for emergencies only

♡ You tell him that you were lonely and missed him and just wanted to be in his company

♡ All protests he held were dropped when you gave him a pleading look slightly tilting your head 

♡ Doing his best to ignore you he goes back to his work as you wander around looking at the books and papers neatly placed around you

♡ You walk up behind him and start to massage his shoulders and he scolds you for distracting him

♡ Pouting at him and stating that you were just worried he was overworking himself, you go to turn away but he stops you grabbing your wrist and bringing you to sit on his lap 

♡ With your back against his, Neuvillette takes your hips and moves your ass over his crotch making you feel his hardening length

♡ “If you act like a slut, you will be treated like one”

♡ He stands you up and bends you over his desk pulling your pants down and pulling your shirt up to expose your breasts 

♡ He begins to thrust into you letting the stress of his work be lost in the sound of your hips meeting

♡ Grabbing at your chest he brings you to lean against him as he bites the skin of your neck 

♡ Loves the pained moan you let out as his teeth sink into his skin

♡ After this, he begins to invite to his office more regularly 

♡ Gets off on the idea of ravaging you on his desk

♡ Making a mess of something that is supposed to be so professional 

Tartaglia 

♡ Tartaglia loves to ruin you

♡ Make you beg for him, cry for him

♡ Having you under him unable to say anything besides his name

♡ Likes to see how many times he can make you cum before you give up 

♡ Nothing is off limits with him but he heavily prefers to be the one in charge

♡ There’s just something about you being fucked stupid that draws him in 

♡ Fantasies about what he wants to do with you every second he is away from you

♡ Very big on foreplay, wants to have you dripping before he fucks you

♡ He lays you on the bed with his thumb circling your clit as he kisses down your neck

♡ Such a sweet start to a night filled with his using your body until he is satisfied

♡ He can last for hours having you on his cock not letting up in pace as you writhe beneath him

♡ Messes turn him on

♡ If your mascara started to run while you were gagging on his cock or if your hair really got messed up after fucking you this man would lose all senses

♡ It awakens a primal urge in him

♡ Loves to coat you in his cum

♡ On your face, your chest, your ass, your stomach 

♡ Cream pies

♡ Seeing his cum dripping out of you fuels the fire in his chest

♡ He sees it dripping out and uses his fingers to fuck it back into you

♡ “That’s it take it like a good girl”

♡ Having you cum while his cum is inside of you is a wet dream come true for him

♡ Imaging you carrying his child making a family of your own 

♡ Completely understands if you do not want children

♡ But would fuck you like he wanted to fill you every time 

Wriothesley

♡ It goes without saying that you will be wearing his handcuffs at some point

♡ He likes to have them on you as he fucks you from behind holding onto them and using them to move your body with him

♡ Loves to have them on you when he eats you out, knowing that you are somewhat restricted as he sucks on your clit is a turn-on for him

♡ Into roleplaying, you being a criminal who has done some pretty bad things and Wriothesley being… himself… and punishing you by fucking you over his desk

♡ Much like Neuvillette, is turned on by the idea of ruining something that is supposed to be professional 

♡ You have stopped wearing underwear when you go to visit him at work because you will be sitting on his desk with his face between your thighs within the first 10 minutes of being there

♡ Sometimes when he really has to get things done he will have you cockwarm him

♡ Simply sitting on his lap with his cock inside of you as he does his work, scolding you if you try to move your hips

♡ If you behave yourself he will reward you by letting you ride him during a break

♡ He loves to watch you get off on his cock, his gaze falling to where your bodies meet, seeing his cock be enveloped by your tight walls 

♡ At home he likes to take his time with you, sex being a lot more caring and slow

♡ Likes to fall asleep after fucking you with his cock still in you 

♡ He craves physical touch, so much of his life is violence that the loving touches he shares with you mean a lot to him

♡ Having you constantly on him is addicting to him

Zhongli

♡ Loves to tease you

♡ He finds you cooking in the kitchen and comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist

♡ You think he is being cute until you feel his hand at the waistband of your shorts

♡ You freeze waiting for his next move 

♡ “Don’t stop my love, pretend I am not here”

♡ As you go back to your dish his hand dips down to between your legs

♡ Slowly he begins to play with your clit as he places soft kisses along your neck and shoulder 

♡ You keep your focus as you add in ingredients trying your best to ignore his actions but the heat between your legs is growing and he feels it

♡ He slips two fingers inside of you with ease taking pride in the gasp you let out as he curls his finger to rub against your g spot

♡ Zhongli begins a brutal pace watching as your knuckles turn white around the spoon

♡ It takes everything in you to stir everything together but when he brings his hand to play with your nipple you can't help but drop the spoon and throw your head back to his chest giving in to the pleasure

♡ He laughs as he reaches in front of you to turn off the flame and then sits you up on the counter

♡ Bringing your legs to wrap around him he lines himself up with your entrance

♡ “You couldn’t handle it? Hmm I suppose you don't get to cum then, pity”

♡ He brings you right to the edge and stops

♡ Seeing the look on your face as you try to move your hips against his brings his satisfaction 

♡ Simply placing a kiss on your lips as he pulls out of you and fixes his clothing

♡ Leaving you to finish what you were doing

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SAY ‘AHH’ featuring wriothesley.

tags : orgasm delay/denial, public sex, cockwarming, dirty talk, edging, slight exhibitionism, possessive behaviour, public groping, slight praise kink // wc. 0.7k

author’s note : i really like this one, esp since im actually saving for wrio (HOYO LET HIM OUT OF THE DUNGEON PLEAAAAASE) i need him bad and my ovaries scream in joy whenever he appears on screen :3 also there's this one voiceline he says in the archon quest that actually has me arching? joe zieja the man you are :(( anyways notes n reblogs are always welcome here, please don't spam (esp w/o a follow), and that's all the admin stuff done, enjoy your read!

this work is NSFW minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

everyone wants to get close to WRIOTHESLEY. he’s the most feared fighter in the fortress of meropide, having won countless pankration matches and being voted most likely to head the fortress more times than even he himself could count. 

everyone’s fear and admiration of this man is partially why you think you can feel a million and one pairs of eyes on you as you sit on his lap in the coupon cafeteria, his throbbing cock nestled deep in the confines of your dripping cunt. “baby…”

“keep it down, angel,” he grumbles, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth before offering you a bite of your own meal. “people are gonna get suspicious.”

as if the scene wasn’t suspicious enough anyways! everyone knows of your relationship with wriothesley (it’s a hot topic in the women’s dorms, the fact that you share a room with him), so it isn’t completely irregular to see you sitting in his lap in the cafeteria. 

what is completely irregular and may raise suspicion is the fact that as you sit on his lap, wriothesley’s length is slowly but discreetly pumping into your stretched out cunt, it’s engorged tip nudging against your g-spot with every movement. it’s intoxicating, but he told you that you can’t make a single noise, and just sit pretty until he’s finished eating. 

he also told you that you can’t cum either, and that if you do, he’ll have no problem fucking you out in the open for everyone else to see how much of a slut his girl is. 

“hnnn, wrio…” muffled moans are directed into the crook of his neck and you bite down gently on his skin. it’s not helping that every time you make a noise a little too loud for his liking, he moves his hips upwards that little bit more, pressing his tip harder onto your g-spot. as a result, you can’t hold yourself back, leading to a cruel cycle of wriothesley’s brutal edging and your pitiful compliance. 

“almost done, baby, see?” he points to the nearly empty metal container before lifting a forkful of food to your mouth. “open up now, doll. say ahhh.”

“ahh–ah!” his hips thrust upwards and your eyes roll lewdly into the back of your head as your tongue lolls out onto your bottom lip. a couple of heads turn but you manage to cover it up by burying your head into his chest. 

wriothesley has to restrain himself from bursting out with laughter. you’re trying so hard to be good for him that it’s becoming a struggle, and watching you try to stop yourself from giving in and fucking yourself on him like he knows you want to is providing him with ample entertainment. you’re such a good girl, sitting pretty and letting him spoonfeed you your pleasure by edging you in broad daylight. 

“what’d i say about being quiet, doll?” his voice is a low whisper in your ear, one hand slipping under your skirt and squeezing your ass harshly. “ ‘s almost like you want to get caught.” he starts to speed up his slow grinding, hands sliding up to your waist as he starts to move you back and forth. 

“god, you want it bad, huh?” he feels your teeth brush his neck. “my girl can’t even wait ‘til we got back to the dorms, shit.” you try to gyrate your hips discreetly, your pussy aching to feel him against your sweet spot again. “let up a lil’ bit, sweetheart, you’re squeezin’ too tight.”

“can’t,” you whimper, nails digging into his biceps. “ ‘s too big.”

“remember what i told you? no cummin’ until i’m done.” he shoves another forkful of his food into his mouth. “and if you don’t mind yourself, i won’t let you cum at all.”

“no, nooo..” your voice fades into a pitiful whine as you stop moving, desperate to please your boyfriend. “wanna be good for you, wrio, wanna be your good girl…”

“i know, baby, i know, but you’re gonna have to wait.” he gestures to the rest of the cafeteria, and the open space surrounding it. “can’t let them see how pretty you look when you cum. that’s f’me only.”

he tugs your hair gently, pulling your heated face out of his neck before tapping your bottom lip with a forkful of food. “open up, honey. we’re almost done.”

PREVIOUS : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia NEXT : BITE ME ft. miguel o’hara

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[starfinss]

ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇʟᴜꜱɪɴᴇꜱ — ᴡʀɪᴏᴛʜᴇꜱʟᴇʏ

𝘍𝘢��𝘥𝘰𝘮: Genshin Impact

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Wriothesley + Reader

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 12,925

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: After beginning work as a doctor at the Fortress of Meropide, Siegwinne decides you and the Duke are a good match, and will do anything in her power to get you to together, even if she has to take drastic measures.

Or, alternatively, Siegwinne adds a little something extra to the Duke's tea. Chaos ensues.

As soon as the suture needle so much as touched the man sitting before you, he was already flinching away.

“That hurts!” He cried, “please, doctor, be gentle with me.”

It was almost laughable, really. Monsieur Phillip was a hardened criminal, or so you’d been told. He was a career criminal, you remembered the Duke remarking, and he’d been sentenced to serve time in the Fortress of Meropide for a myriad of things, such as assault, and even attempted murder, but here he was, a hulking mass of a man, whimpering in pain at the slightest prick of a needle. 

“Hush,” you said, tutting gently, “the quicker I start, the quicker it’s over. Now hold still.”

He flinched back again, eyeing the needle like it was out to get him. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Please try and relax. I can assure you, I did go to medical school.”

Before he could say anything else, you made the first stitch, carefully, but quickly enough so as not to cause him too much pain. Even with the numbing gel you’d applied, it seemed that the patient’s pain threshold was quite low. It usually removed enough sensation that any leftover pain would be no more than a pinch, but even with that, you could see tears beading at his lash line.

A hardened criminal, indeed.

You finished the sutures quickly before bandaging the injured shoulder and giving Phillip some care instructions.

“And,” you said, “no more getting into altercations about work times, okay?”

Phillip sighed, casting his eyes away from you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled, kindly. “That’s doctor to you.”

It wasn’t wholly unexpected. Men tended to have lower pain tolerances than women did. You’d given stitches to many people before, and when it came to whining, the men tended to be the most common offenders. 

After Phillip left, you checked up on a woman who was resting in one of the infirmary beds, and after taking her temperature and walking away with your clipboard, you nearly tripped over Siegwinne, who had somehow snuck into your path without you noticing.

“Archons,” you exclaimed, a hand flying over your heart, “I need to put a bell on you.”

Siegwinne ignored your remark. “May I see the patient’s chart?”

You handed it to her. “The patient shows signs of improvement. Her fever has broken, and her delirium has started to clear up. She should make a full recovery.”

Siegwinne hummed meaningfully. “Very good. I was worried about that one. I am glad to hear she is healing well.”

You nodded, then turned, starting towards your desk, but before you could make it, Siegwinne called your name, making you pause.

“Yes?”

Her expression remained impassive, eyes curious, unsuspecting, and she tucked the clipboard under her arm as she closed the distance between you.

“Have you seen the Duke today?”

There it was. You didn’t know what you’d been expecting aside from this. Ever since Siegwinne had caught onto the fact that you’d developed a crush on the Duke, she’d tried to do everything in her power to set you up with him. In the beginning, that was all it was. A crush. It was a crush in the same way one would develop an infatuation with a colleague or schoolmate, based on their appearance or the limited positive interactions they had with them. It was no secret that Wriothesley was an attractive man. He was tall, and handsome, anyone with eyes could see that. You’d heard the whispers among female inmates and guards alike. You were not unique in feeling some form of attraction to him. 

But to Siegwinne, your silly crush was an opportunity. 

“You’re a good woman,” she told you, “and His Grace is always stressed. I fear for his health. I think you would be the right person to keep him company. You are a good match. Your influence and affection would do him much good.”

Siegwinne came to you with this a few months after you’d started work at the Fortress, completely out of nowhere, stunning you to silence. You had no idea how she’d caught on to your feelings, and when you expressed as much, she went into a rambling tangent about human behavior, something about the dilation of pupils, and how she’d been taking notes, and that was when you cut her off.

“Absolutely not.”

But nevertheless, she persisted. 

Siegweinne’s matchmaking attempts rarely ended conclusively, since she tended to see things as a logical cause and effect, and did not at all fit the way any normal human would attempt to court another. They mostly involved putting you and Wriothesley into situations that forced you to speak or interact with one another, with little to no regard to how much said situations were an inconvenience to you. Her first attempt, as such, embarrassingly enough, involved telling the Duke you’d had some kind of accident with an inmate, and when he came to the infirmary to check in, finding you unharmed and working at your desk, all that ensued was a lot of confusion. You wondered why he’d come all that way to see you, and he was surprised to find you not laying on one of the infirmary beds.

But, what her attempts did do, was make the way you felt about Wriothesley, which was no more than a passing fancy at first, grow into something more. 

And despite your best efforts, that only made Siegwinne latch on even harder. 

“Hello?” Siegwinne said, shaking you from your thoughts, “I believe it is polite to answer a question when asked one, or have human customs changed?”

You brushed off her unintentional rudeness, instead answering what she’d asked you.

“No,” you said, “I have not seen His Grace today. He’s a busy man, Siegwinne. You know that.”

“Well, you should go see him.”

You sighed, leaning down to take your clipboard from under her arm, then crossing to your desk.

“I don’t have a reason to go see him,” you said, sitting down, “and like I said, His Grace is a busy man.”

She didn’t push after that, simply going back to work as you did yours, and you tried to put it out of your mind. You and Wriothesley were friends, you’d say. Even though you usually found yourselves meeting in less than normal circumstances, you were still fond of him. You enjoyed his frank, matter-of-fact personality, and dry sense of humor, and he seemed to enjoy your company as well. Your relationship was as casual as it could be between you and a man who was technically your boss, and friendly enough that you had conversations outside of work related matters. You’d never let Siegwinne know this, but her repeated and clumsy attempts at setting you up were not without some benefits. 

That was fine, you supposed. You’d bonded over Siegwinne and her antics, and built a friendship over a shared love of tea, as well as an author you both enjoyed, among other common interests. But that was it. As much as Siegwinne, and, begrudgingly, you, would like to say otherwise, you and The Duke were only friends. 

And, it seemed, as you settled into that fact quite comfortably, Siegwinne only grew more brazen in her attempts at Melusine style matchmaking. 

Her latest attempt involved trying to shut you in a locked room with The Duke, which failed when Wriothesley produced the master key in order to open the door. It happened a little over a week ago, which made you nervous, because Siegwinne didn’t like letting too much time pass between her less than gentle shoves. You were almost completely certain that Wriothesley knew what was happening, he’d have to be stupid not to, though he hadn’t said anything about it. This was probably to spare you from any further embarrassment, which you appreciated. 

The situation was hopeless. You knew that well. But Siegwinne didn’t, and that was beginning to become a problem. You didn’t know why you’d let her get away with this for the handful of months that you had, but maybe, deep down, you hoped that something would actually come from all her meddling. 

And apart from that, you had a certain degree of professionalism to uphold. Wriothesley was your boss, and you were both his employee and his doctor. As much as you found yourself wishing otherwise, pursuing your feelings, even if that was an option, just wasn’t ethical. 

But still, you could dream, you supposed. Dreaming was harmless. 

“I need you to run an errand for me.”

You turned in your chair, raising an eyebrow at Siegwinne, who was staring over at you innocently, a thermos in her hands. You looked at it, then back at her, puzzled.

“Siegwinne, I’m not in the mood.”

She frowned. “To do your job? How unbecoming. I’m simply asking you to deliver this tea to the Duke. His Grace is suffering from a headache. I delivered some to him this morning, but the problem still persists.”

You glanced at the thermos again. “Tea? What’s in it?”

She immediately became defensive, and for a moment, you almost felt guilty for doubting her. 

“Medicine!” She cried, “what do you take me for? I’ve brewed a painkiller into the tea. It should help with His Grace’s headache. If you don’t trust me, you can take a sip yourself.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why can’t you do it?”

Her brows pinched together in annoyance, and maybe a little indignance. “I have to go see a patient, thank you. A young man is complaining of nausea, and finds it hard to stand because of it, so I am going to see him in his cell. Now, will you bring His Grace the tea, or not?”

You sighed. In your own mind, your hesitance was completely justified. Siegwinne had tried to trick you into being alone with Wriothesley many times before this, but then again, if the Duke was actually feeling unwell, and you refused to bring him medicine, what kind of doctor would you be? 

And so, you relented. With another sigh, you stood, snatching the thermos from Siegwinne’s outstretched hand. 

“Fine,” you said, “I’ll be back as soon as I drop it off.”

If Siegwinne was disappointed by this, she hid it well. She simply nodded, then crossed over to her desk to busy herself with her medical bag. You glanced over a few more things at your own desk before scooping up the thermos and leaving the infirmary after calling a quick few words of parting to Siegwinne, who only nodded. 

You shivered a little as you left the infirmary. Siegwinne tended to keep it warmer there, with a space heater sitting in the corner to combat the cold dampness of the rest of the Fortress of Meropide. It was better for the patients, she said, if they had somewhere nice and warm to rest and recover. You were fairly certain she also said something about humans and their preference for warmth, but that wasn’t important at present. 

The clang of your boots against the metal floors rang out as you walked, head held high, thermos in your grip. The air smelled of iron and brine, a scent you’d grown used to in the time you’d been working in the Fortress. Artificial light cast everything in a sort of ominous hue, and the low strength of it left everything in partial shadow. It used to make you nervous, not knowing what hid behind them, using them like masks. Now you knew that whatever was waiting for you was something you could handle.

You glanced down at the thermos in your hands. It was warm, likely just brewed. There was no way Siegwinne would have you serve the Duke cold tea. The thermos was plain; unassuming. It was slate gray, probably stainless steel. You turned it over in your hands, studying it. It was just tea. You had no reason to think it was anything other than that. But with Siegwinne, you’d learned to expect the unexpected.

Absently, you stepped into the elevator to take you down to the administrative floor. The car jerked, and with a mechanical clank, began to move. You turned the thermos over in your hands again. It’s just tea. For the Duke. Your poor, ailing boss. You twisted your mouth. It was fine. There was no way Siegwinne would ever do anything to actually harm Wriothesley. You tapped your nails against the surface of the thermos, almost jumping from your skin when the elevator came to an abrupt stop as it reached its destination, jostling you where you stood and ejecting you from your tangled thoughts. 

You sighed as you left the elevator, tucking the thermos into your arms and against your chest. Everything was fine. If Siegwinne took anything seriously, it was health. You’d caught her staring intently at you on many occasions, and when you asked her about it, she told you she was making sure you were healthy, in a very matter-of-fact tone, like it was obvious. She may be odd, but she wasn’t going to try and harm anyone. 

As you reached the doors to the Duke’s office, you reached into the pocket of your skirt, digging out the key to the lock. Because of the Fortress’s status as a prison, it was only natural that important areas such as the office of the warden would remain locked. The only way to get in was if you had a key or if you were invited by Wriothesley himself. There was also the off chance that the Duke left the doors unlocked, but that was uncommon. Regardless, before you put the key in the lock, you raised your hand, knocking on the door with a great clang. 

“Your Grace?” you called, though it was unlikely he heard you through the thick steel, “I’ll be coming in now. I have some tea for you.”

And with that, you pushed the key into place, twisting. With a grunt of effort, you pushed the doors open.

It was as you were opening the door that you heard him, calling to you. It was muffled under the mechanical clank of the doors, making you only vaguely aware of his call of your name, and you hurried to close the door to answer him. The lock clicked as you did, signifying that the mechanism had reset to its previous locked state. 

You expected Wriothesley to call out to you again after your lack of response, or even possibly to come see you. It was unlikely that Siegwinne would send you on an errand without previously announcing your arrival. But instead, you were met with silence. You gripped the thermos more tightly, hesitating.

“Your Grace?”

You heard something else then. A soft intake of breath, only able to be heard because of the complete lack of noise, save for the quiet hum of machinery from beyond the doors. Then, you could hear him clearing his throat. 

“Yes,” you heard Wriothsley say, from up the stairs, “up here.”

You sighed, relieved, as you made your way up the curving staircase and into the main office.

And as for things you expected to see, this was not among them.

Wriothesley was sitting at his desk, but he looked more than a little disheveled. His coat had been discarded, draped over the back of his chair, and his tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck. His waistcoat was also unbuttoned, as were the top two buttons of the dress shirt he wore underneath the garment. His gloves had also been removed, laying out on his desk beside an empty teacup. His hair was tousled, more than usual, and his face…

You furrowed your brows, suddenly concerned. His face was flushed, a deep pink settled in the apples of his cheeks, very evident against his usually pale skin. Breath, feather soft, expelled itself through parted lips, almost too quickly, as he looked over at you, brows pinching together, as if pained or troubled before the expression calmed. Wriothesley straightened, clearing his throat again, and he was hurriedly fixing his clothing, deft fingers doing up the buttons of his shirt, smoothing back over his hair. 

His eyes fell to the thermos in your hands, lingering, before sliding up to your face. 

You stared at him, your concern growing more by the second, and after a beat, you crossed to the desk, setting the thermos down.

“Your Grace,” you said, “I’ve brought you painkillers for your headache, but you look… May I examine you? You do not look like you’re feeling well.”

“Examine me,” he repeated, then took a slow breath, squeezing his eyes shut before shaking his head, as if clearing away a fog. He swallowed, raking a hand through his hair, and it was then that you spotted sweat beading on his forehead. 

“Yes,” you said, gently, already in doctor mode, “please, let me help.”

He cleared his throat, for what was probably the third time, and you narrowed your eyes. You were rapidly beginning to get suspicious in addition to concerned. There was something he wasn’t telling you. Absently, you found yourself mentally scolding yourself for neglecting to bring your medical bag.

“I’m fine,” he said, though he certainly didn’t look fine, “please, don’t trouble yourself. You’ve come all this way for me, so would you at least sit with me for a cup of tea?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. It was fine, though, you supposed. Staying around wasn’t a terrible idea. It would give you a chance to more closely study the Duke’s behavior, and try and figure out what the problem might be. And so, you stepped to the table off to the side, picking a clean tea cup from the collection displayed there. 

“I don’t need any, really,” you said as you leaned over to take the thermos from the desk, “Siegwinne made this for you, for your head. I am happy to sit and talk with you, though, if you want me to.”

Wriothesley smiled easily. “If you like, I can brew you a cup from my personal collection of teas. What do you like?”

You flushed, feeling special, and you turned to busy yourself with arranging his cup of tea to hide the pink in your cheeks. 

“You already know my preferences, Your Grace,” you said, over your shoulder, “just a cup of earl gray is fine.”

You heard shuffling, then the sound of a drawer being pulled open, and you knew the Duke was rifling through the collection of teas he kept stored in his desk. Shifting your focus, you removed the small travel cup attached to the top of the thermos, then unscrewed the lid. Immediately, you were hit with the scent of the tea. It was unexpectedly sweet, and sort of floral. It certainly wasn’t the Duke’s usual style, that was for sure. You took another lungful of it, and could make out notes of various medicinal herbs, including rosemary and feverfew, both known to help with headaches. You could also smell a hint of lavender. But there was still that floral, sort of rosy scent, undercut by the bitter, citrus aroma of the feverfew. It smelled a bit like rainbow roses; of petrichor and morning dew and sweet fresh petals. It certainly had herbs in it, some of which were known to help with what the Duke needed, but the combination of them that you were able to discern was puzzling to say the least.

You put it out of your mind, chalking up the roses to being there to help with the bitterness of the feverfew. With a sigh, you poured the steaming liquid into the teacup. It was sort of a deep rouge color, bordering on purple. A nice color, you decided, and not entirely unexpected with what was contained in the tea. You placed the cup on a saucer, then carried it, alongside the still half filled thermos over to the desk, setting them before the Duke. In exchange, he handed you the tea bag you’d requested, which you accepted gladly. 

After you’d filled a cup with boiling water, which the Duke always seemed to have on hand in any nearby kettle, ready for a quick cup. You added the tea bag, as well as a few spoonfuls of sugar, then took your seat on the couch by the tea table. 

Wriothesley’s face twisted as he took the first sip from his cup, seemingly troubled. 

“It’s very sweet.”

You tilted your head. “Is it not to your liking? I’ll be sure to tell Siegwinne to tweak the recipe.”

Wriothesley waved a dismissive hand. “No,” he said, “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s not my usual style, but I don’t dislike it.”

You nodded meaningfully, blowing over your tea once more. 

“How are things over in the infirmary?” He asked, and you sat up straighter, engaged. 

“Fine. The usual. I had a man who was scared of needles just before I came over,” you said, “I’d barely touched him before he was telling me to stop.”

Wriothesley laughed, amused. He took another swallow of tea.

 “Oh, really?” He said, “Monsieur Phillip, I suspect? That man always gets into brawls, but is terrified of medical treatment. And he never wins those brawls. The gardes always have to pull the other guy off of him.”

You hid your smile behind your teacup. “I know,” you said, “Siegwinne is always scolding him when he comes in for being reckless.”

Wriothesley rested his head on a closed fist, thoughtful, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Maybe a few rounds in the Pankration Ring would do him some good,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t go putting any ideas in his head,” you said, “he might become a permanent resident of the infirmary if he starts entering into any matches.”

Wriothesley made a face, pale blue eyes moving to rest somewhere in the depths of his teacup. “Maybe he’d pick up a few things about proper combat, though.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Maybe, but at the cost of his health.”

You enjoyed this. It was hardly the first time you’d been invited to stay for tea, in addition to being personally invited to tea a handful of times before. Wriothesley’s presence was pleasant and inviting, despite his intimidating stature and appearance. His height dwarfed many other people, and you’d seen few as tall as he was, save for the Iudex, who was far more slim than the Duke was. Where Monsieur Neuvillette was tall and lithe, Wriothesley was broad and powerfully built. His sheer size alone, made only more prominent by the bulky coat he wore around his shoulders, was enough to intimidate anyone.

But despite that, he was an amicable and good-humored man, earnest and straightforward. He made you feel at ease, and your growing affection for him settled low and warm in the spot behind your heart. 

His face was getting more pink, you noticed, with a start. You took another sip of tea, watching him closely. His brow furrowed, just briefly, and he was fiddling with the bands of leather around his throat, as if they were suddenly too tight. He shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Your Grace?” You said, and he seemed to snap out of whatever had overtaken him, regarding you with raised eyebrows and an expectant expression.

“Sorry,” he said, “what were you saying?”

You studied him, eyes narrowed, and he laughed, a little awkwardly.

“You’re doing that thing Siegwinne does,” he said, “the thing she does with her eyes. I don’t know how you replicated it so perfectly. There’s nothing wrong, I promise. It’s just suddenly kind of hot in here. Do you feel that?”

You shook your head. In fact, to you, the room was cold. Just as cold as the rest of the Fortress, save for the infirmary. It was the reason for the thermal lining in the pale blue overcoat of your uniform, the color that marked you as medical staff, as well as the reason for the thicker uniform fabric worn by the majority of the other general staff. 

“No,” you said, and Wriothesley looked puzzled. 

“Oh,” he muttered, puzzled, “I was warm earlier, but I’m starting to get… hot now. I don’t suppose that’s normal?”

You cracked a smile at that. “No, I don’t think so.”

A spell of silence passed before your mind snapped back to what he’d just said.

“You were feeling overly warm earlier? When did that start?”

Wriothesley furrowed his brows, considering your question before answering. He took another sip from his cup, then poured more of the contents of the thermos into it.

“This morning,” he said, “I can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but it was maybe shortly after I had a cup of tea.”

You snorted, amused. “You realize how little that narrows it down, don’t you? You drink more tea than anyone I know, Your Grace. I need a measure of time, not cups of tea.”

He chuckled at that. “I apologize. I believe it was after Siegwinne delivered the tea she made for my head. Which is feeling much better, by the way. I think what I’ve been drinking while we’ve been chatting has helped kick the rest of it. I’m almost finished with the thermos.”

Suddenly, you made the connection. 

Almost robotically, and with learned efficiency, you went over the contents that you’d smelled in the tea, along with their uses. Feverfew, maybe some lavender, and rosemary. All of those had various uses, though they all had one thing in common, which was pain relief. Finally, there was the rainbow rose. The petals and buds were used for medicinal purposes, and could be used as such, similarly to common red roses, for anything ranging from headaches to a sore throat. 

Something was missing. Something was wrong. The scent itself had been off.

“The tea,” you said, “from before. Was it sweet?” 

Wriothesley nodded, taking another gulp, and finally, pouring the last of the contents of the thermos into the cup. “This brew is sweeter, though.”

You stood, then reached for his teacup, bringing it to your nose and inhaling. You caught the same things as before, but as you mulled them over, something else clicked. 

Siegwinne wouldn’t. Would she?

“It’s really hot,” Wriothesley said, and you could see the sweat beaded at his hairline, sticking the hair at his temples to his skin, cresting down his cheekbone. 

You reached out, and when the back of your hand made contact with his burning forehead, he flinched, making a soft sound in surprise and alarm.

“Why is your skin so much colder than mine?”

Your skin wasn’t cold. In fact, your body was at an average temperature, kept warm by the layers of clothing you were wearing. By your own assessment, your hands were probably relatively warm. You frowned, reaching into your pocket and withdrawing your penlight, circling the desk to situate yourself closer to the Duke.

The way he was looking at you when you drew closer was strange. Almost hungry. Famished, ice blue hues swept over your form, and you watched as his hands, previously resting on the desk, folded in front of him, over his lap. 

You moved closer, leaning halfway over to him, hand making contact with his face to tilt it towards you. He flinched at your touch, breath shuddering, and you studied his eyes closely before muttering a warning and shining your light into his face, instructing him to follow the light with his gaze.

“This isn’t… necessary,” he protested, weakly, and you ignored him. His pupils were blown wide, dark pits in the center of the sky blue of his irises. 

“Mydriasis,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him as you switched off your light and pocketed it. 

Your hand dropped from his face to just under where his jaw met his throat. You pushed aside the leather straps, just enough to access his pulse point, pressing two fingers to the spot. His heart was racing, quick and erratic, and you felt him shudder, breath heavy, his jaw setting tightly as your hands drifted across his skin, probing and searching. His skin was burning with heat, feverishly so, and coupled with the elevated heart rate, the blown pupils, and the way he seemed to flinch whenever you made contact with his skin directly, you could only make one conclusion.

“So,” you said, backing up to stand up straight, “this started after you had the first brew Siegwinne dropped off, yes?”

Wriothesley nodded. “It did.”

His voice. It had dropped several octaves in the time you’d been examining him, and you cursed the effect it had on you, coursing hot through your bloodstream. It felt so deeply unprofessional for a doctor to even think of her patient in the way the brief thoughts that fluttered through your mind suggested you do.

“Is it worse after this second batch?” You forced yourself to say.

He huffed a laugh. “You could say that.”

And it was then when you noticed, from where you were standing, that Wriothesley’s belt was undone. Rosy hues colored your cheeks as you yanked your gaze away.

“You need to tell me all of your symptoms,” you said, “spare no detail.”

Panic briefly flashed across his face as he crossed and uncrossed his legs.

“Hot,” he said, “I feel far too warm. Do I have a fever?”

You narrowed your eyes. He was purposely hiding the truth, but nonetheless, you answered.

“Yes,” you said, “but I believe it’s because your body is overheated and not because you're fighting an infection. I just said not to leave anything out, Your Grace, please tell me everything. As your doctor, I–”

“I’m… Archons, I don’t want to say it,” he paused, searching, almost frantically for something else to focus on. “What was in that tea?”

You swallowed, leaning back to rest against the desk. 

“Herbs,” you said, “rosemary, feverfew, and lavender. All meant to help with pain and headaches. But I could also smell rainbow roses.”

Wriothesley brightened. “Yes, I thought that was what I tasted. It brings such a unique flavor to the table, don’t you agree?”

You fought a smile, endeared by him, but now was hardly the time. You needed to figure out what was wrong with him, not to discuss tea. 

“Yes,” you said, “but it was strange. Too sweet. It only gets to that level when the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose are included alongside the powdered roots of a rainbow rose, in which case the combination can make–”

Oh. Oh. 

As you were talking, it clicked into place. The scent, which you’d thought was much too sweet before, suddenly made sense. Sumeru rose must have been the final ingredient. It was flavorless when consumed, but smelled quite sweet. When combined with rainbow roses, the scent of the two grew overpoweringly saccharine. Unless diluted, it would almost resemble a syrup. If the rainbow rose petals were boiled alongside the powdered roots of the Sumeru rose, it could become a powerful medicine able to soothe a bad cough. But if the roots of both plants were powdered, the results were…

You cursed yourself for being so stupid. Of course, Siegwinne would see nothing wrong with this. Medicine was medicine, regardless of what the outcome of its ingestion spelled, so long as it got the desired result. To her, the suggestion of something unbecoming would be taken with great offense. 

“‘Can make?’” Wriothesley supplied, and were already imagining the ways in which you were going to rip Siegwinne a new one.

“I need your symptoms. Now. I am a doctor, Your Grace, I promise I will be as non judgemental as possible, just please–”

“Damn it,” he interjected, face hidden in his hands, “I’m aroused.”

Anything you’d just been about to say left your mind, swept away by dread, because you knew what was happening.

Siegwinne was evil. You could already picture her expectant, innocent face, asking just how her little ‘experiment’ had gone, and it filled you with boiling rage. 

Though, there was also the fact that she could simply be misinformed. Melusines had different reactions to some medicines than humans did, and it was equally possible that she simply thought that, if dosed with the tea, the Duke’s feelings for you, if he had any, would just be made more prominent. For her sake, you hoped it was the latter. 

“Aroused,” you parroted, trying hard to stay professional and failing miserably, because this was unethical on so many levels, “tell me more about that.”

He made a strangled, startled sound. “You want to know more?” 

You wanted to melt into the floor. “I need to know how strong the dose you’ve been given is.”

“Dose?!” He said, “of what?”

You refused to look at him. “When mixed together, the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose and a rainbow rose create a powerful aphrodisiac. I believe the first dose you received was a weaker version, and this one is much stronger.”

Silence followed as Wriothesley took in the information, then cleared his throat.

“Do you have an antidote?”

You raised your head to look at him properly. He looked almost haggard, the flush from his face creeping down his neck. 

“There… kind of isn’t one.”

Wriothesley made a sound of frustration in the back of his throat, hands raising to card through his hand, and it was then that you noticed it. Now that his hands were no longer hiding it, you could see it, there, outlined against the dark fabric of his slacks. 

He was hard. 

A wave of suffocating, shameful arousal washed over you, and you forced yourself to look away, to ignore it.

You could only begin to imagine how he was feeling. The way you were feeling was nothing compared to him, his condition undoubtedly much more intense than your own physical reaction in response to his arousal, and you could feel his eyes on you as you scrambled to find a solution. 

“What am I going to do then?” He asked, “it’s getting… I’m sorry, It’s getting rather unbearable. I tried everything. It’s impossible to ignore, and I know I can’t use my hands.”

You spared him a glance. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, “I was already trying that. It wasn’t enough.”

Oh. The unbuckled belt. His disheveled state when you’d walked in. He’d already been dealing with the effects of the first dose, or at least attempting to. The call of your name, as you were entering the office. The silence before he summoned you up to the second floor.

Fuck. He’d been thinking of you. 

That had to be one of the hottest things you’d ever heard, professionalism be damned. Arousal rolled over you like a breaking wave, making you bite into your lower lip.

You knew what needed to happen. You knew the effects of this particular drug would take, and you knew that the only way to relieve his symptoms was either to very painfully wait it out or to… find relief. In this case, that entailed another person. 

“You need to have sexual intercourse,” you said, “or you can wait it out.”

Wriothesley cleared his throat. “Wait it out,” he said, “right, I can do that. How long will that take?”

You twisted your hands together. “It… depends. You were likely given a pretty strong dose, even for someone your size. By my estimate, it would probably take several hours for it to work its way out of your system.”

He chuckled dryly, humorlessly. “Great.”

You cleared your throat. “Do you have someone I could… call? A girlfriend?”

He snorted, as if amused by the idea. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

That would make sense, you supposed, if he was calling out your name, and not the name of another woman. 

“We both know what Siegwinne is doing,” Wriothesley said, “not just with this, but for the past few months. I can’t pretend I’m not fond of you, and neither of us can pretend there isn’t something between us.”

It was like the ground dropped out from under you at the sheer brazenness of his admission. You stared at him, thunderstruck. 

“You… what?” 

A cavalcade of thoughts crashed together as you rapidly attempted to process what he meant by that, but he barely gave you any time before he started speaking again.

“Look,” he said, “if you don’t feel the same, I can accept that. I’ll wait it out, and we can pretend this never even happened. But if you do, are you even… slightly interested in um… helping me? Because honestly, I feel like I’m about to explode.”

Heat coiled low in your stomach, threatening to overtake you as the lovely rasp of his voice made any of your logical thoughts close to meaningless. This was so vastly unprofessional. He was your boss, and you were his doctor. But something dangerously close to want was settling neatly over that space you usually reserved, that you looked to for reassurance about your professional standing with the Duke, to tell you that your feelings for him, ever growing, were improper. 

And when you turned, watching his face, the way his hungry gaze traced your body through your uniform, something in you snapped, and you threw caution to the wind.

Head lowered, face flushed, you swallowed your rationality and any remaining hesitance you had left. 

“I suppose,” you said, “I could use my hands.”

Wriothesley’s body jolted in anticipation, and his eyes betrayed his hesitance, darkened to steel blue with lust as he nodded once, then once more.

“Hands,” he repeated, “yes, hands are good. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

You found it touching that he was at least trying to take your comfort into account, even when he was drowning in desire, and you took a slow step forward as he shifted, pulling his chair out enough to allow you room to situate yourself on the floor in front of him. As you took another step, he took his coat from the back of his chair and laid it at his feet, another gesture you appreciated. 

Once you reached him, you knelt down between his thighs, and he watched you with burning eyes, flinching when your palms smoothed over his clothed thighs, jaw tightening. Medical curiosity echoed briefly in the back of your mind, taking note of just how sensitive the drug had made him to the simplest of touches, how he shivered as your nails grazed against the insides of his strong thighs. 

Fuck, he was radiating heat. So much so that it was beginning to affect you, and you shifted back on your knees to remove the overcoat layer of your uniform, leaving you in the blouse and underskirt beneath it. Wriothesley’s eyes followed your motions with rapt attention, and when you moved forward again, settling, you felt him jolt when your palm met his leg once again.

This close up, you could see it, just how much he was straining against his trousers, his erection pressed against his zipper, and hesitantly, you cupped it in your hand.

The Duke gasped at your touch, fingers twitching where he’d curled them around the armrests of his chair, then tightening in a white-knuckled grip as you ever-so-gently squeezed. He twitched against your palm, and you removed his belt entirely, dropping it to the floor with a clatter before you were unfastening his button and zipper.

You palmed him through the fabric of his underwear, and you could already feel how big he was just from that. A sort of eagerness threaded its way into the burn of your arousal as you pushed away any remaining layers, pulling him free.

Fuck. He was so thick, and when you slowly wrapped your hand around him, your fingers just barely met. He was long, too, though you supposed it made sense for a man of his size. He was flushed red, painfully hard, and when you squeezed, you felt him twitch once more, his body tightening like a coiled spring. His hands tightened their grip on the armrests, flexing, and you felt his hips shift forward, unconsciously. 

The first stroke made his head roll back, the sound he let out one of relief, just from that simple touch alone. It made you squirm in place, the sound of his voice and the stricken hitch of his breath causing the desperation of his arousal to bleed into your own building need. Precum was beaded at his tip, and you almost wanted to lean forward to lap it up, especially as more leaked out in response to the way you were stroking him in slow, even movements. 

Heavy breath expelled through clenched teeth, followed by a low, low groan as your thumb found his tip, rubbing in slow circles, and it was then that you leaned forward, giving into temptation as your tongue pressed to the underside of the head of his cock in a slow lick.

“Oh,” he gasped, “oh, you don’t have to– oh, fuck.”

He cut himself off as you lapped at his slit, groaning through his teeth. He was already completely lost to pleasure as you pumped the base of him, and when you took him into your mouth, sucking on the tip, you heard him curse, a sound drawn out with a low, decadent groan. 

“You said your hands– oh!”

Arousal was settling low and smoldering hot in the pit of your stomach, pooling between your thighs, and you whined as he whispered your name. You released him from your mouth, hands moving to rest on his thighs, and you dragged your tongue up and along the underside of his dick, gathering up any precum that had dribbled down. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his slacks, lips grazing the side of his shaft, and he repeated your name, louder, voice twisted with an urgency that made your blood sing.

It was embarrassing, just how quick you’d gotten like this, punch drunk on the reactions he gave you, the way his body reacted to your touch. It filled you with an addicting sort of power, one that threatened to overtake you if you weren’t careful. But right then, all you wanted was to add fuel to the ever growing fire. And, with the way he was breathing, rough and ragged and broken, you doubted he’d be opposed to that. 

Your tongue flicked out, against the fold of skin just below his tip, and he tensed, crying out helplessly. When you finally took him in your mouth, fully, his head fell back against his chair, a feral groan tearing itself from his throat as your tongue pressed firm against him. Your hand moved from his leg to encircle the base of him again, squeezing and stroking in tandem with the slow bob of your head, and making the Duke gasp at the sensations. 

When you sucked, just a little, Wriothesley babbled a string of curses, hips twitching up towards your mouth, and when you ducked down, bobbing your head, one of his hands flew from the armrest to the back of your head. You thought he’d push, or maybe take control, but all he did was lace his fingers into your hair, unmoving. His body shuddered under the roll of your tongue, under the press of your free hand to his stomach, creeping under the layers of clothing covering him, his skin fever hot against your own.

You took him deeper, and he twitched, hips jumping as you hollowed out your cheeks, drawing back before surging forward once again. You relaxed your jaw further as his hips bucked, and he muttered an apology, breathless and feverish. His head pitched back as you rubbed your thumb against his base, and he twitched again, sharply. When you looked up at him, through your lashes, he was gazing down at you with hooded, burning eyes. There was desperation in his cool blue hues, a wordless plea for anything, everything you could give him.

And with everything you had, you delivered. 

You dropped your jaw, swallowing as much of him as you can, drinking in the sound of his breath shuddering, tapering off into a low moan. You sped up, gradually, and the sounds he made were so madly erotic that you found yourself aching to reach between your thighs and take care of your own growing need, but you could hardly focus on anything apart from taking him as deep as possible without choking. The sheer girth of him was enough to make your jaw sore, and when you moved forward again, he hit the back of your throat, making tears catch in your lashes. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, drawing the word out with the sound, long and low and you kneened around him, making him curse and buck. 

The hand not tangled in your hair raised to his face, balling tight, and he bit down on his fist, stifling his uncontrolled cries of ecstasy, eyes squeezing shut, brows pinching in concentration. He was trembling beneath your touches, twitching against your tongue, and when you moved back to suck on the tip, slow and indolent, the noise that left his mouth was nothing short of pornographic. 

“Yeah,” he seethed, voice breathy, needy, “fuck, yeah, don’t stop.”

Not a chance in hell you were doing that. You clamped your thighs together, squeezing around nothing, and you knew you were soaked, evident in the way your panties were sticking to your skin, your thighs tacky with sweat and the soak of your own arousal. Your hand curled into a fist where it rested on his stomach, then flattening once more and flexing, searching for anything to anchor yourself. When you took him into your mouth once more, fully, he bucked his hips, groaning with no regard for volume. He was close, teetering on that edge, evident from the way his grip on your hair grew tighter, the way you could feel the muscles in his stomach tensing, and when you took him deep and sucked, he moaned, long and low, the sound almost forced from his fraying lungs. The sensitivity had to be maddening, you decided, and you’d use that to your full advantage. 

Slowly, you pulled back, lapping at the leaking tip, hand working tirelessly at the base of him, and you barely had any warning before he tipped over the edge, back arching, breath all but leaving him. You shifted back in surprise, reflexively, and cum painted itself across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, the seam of your lips. You closed your eyes in an attempt to keep anything from getting into them before you were hurrying to take him in your mouth, sealing your lips around him. His hand was fisting in your hair, and the sound he made, a low, breathless groan, was one of sheer, debauched relief. 

You sucked, and he let out an obscene moan as you swallowed down his cum, hips jerking, the hand previously fisted between his teeth flattening against the desk, palm slamming down, just once, and you heard the rasp of wood under fingernails as he moved to grip the edge. 

You slowed, working him through the intensity of his orgasm, as he twitched and throbbed under your touch, the sheer volume of cum surprising you. It leaked from your mouth, down your chin, and you did your best to swallow as much of it as you could. He slumped, boneless, against his chair, and when you moved to clean him with your tongue, you got to listen to the delightful sound of him gasping from oversensitivity.

“Fuck,” you heard him say, dazed and utterly breathless, “fuck.”

Slowly, you drew back, and his eyes followed you, breath hitching and gaze darkening as he took in your appearance. The sight of you, knelt before him, covered in his cum, was enough to make him groan aloud, cheeks flaring pink.

“Archons,” he said, “that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You let out a short, breathless chuckle.

“Do you have a rag or something?”

He nodded, once, and you stood on shaking legs before leaning sideways against the desk, and he pulled you closer, gently wiping your face clean with a tissue before depositing it in the trash situated under his desk. 

“How do you feel?” You asked, and he huffed what may have been a laugh, nearly disbelieving.

“That was… Incredible. But I’m still, um…”

You crooked an eyebrow, watching him, expectantly.

He looked almost guilty. “I’m still hard.”

Oh. Oh. 

You weren’t completely surprised. You didn’t know if a blowjob alone would be enough to work the drug from his system, and clearly, it wasn’t. Not that you minded. Your own arousal was a steady pulse below your skin, working like a second heartbeat. Desire coursed through you, and you pressed your thighs together once more. You wanted it. You already knew that. You wanted him. 

“Alright,” you said, and what was left of any phantom of resolve, or the shreds of your until recently professional relationship with him all but vaporized, “sit back.”

“You don’t have to,” he started, the protest as fragile as glass, but you cut him off.

“I want to. I’ve… wanted this– you– for a while. So please, Your Grace– Wriothesley. I want it all. If you’ll have me.”

That was all it took. With a low, shuddering breath, a signal of his rapidly fraying restraint, he was yanking you forward and into his lap, his fingers working the buttons of your blouse open, hurriedly shucking it down your shoulders once undone. He made quick work of the ties fastening your skirt to your body, and you briefly shuffled off of him to drop it to the floor, along with your stockings, before resituating yourself on his lap. 

“If I’ll have you?” He rumbled, the low, rough ombre of his voice sending prongs of lightning down your spine, and he yanked you closer, mouth dragging along the curve of your jaw.

“How could I possibly refuse?”

And then, for the first time, he was kissing you. 

His lips were burning hot against yours, and your fingers found his hair, threading into messy locks, nails dragging against his scalp. He huffed a sigh into your lips as he nudged his tongue between them, tilting his head to slot his mouth more firmly against yours, and when his tongue dragged against yours, you moaned, low and soft, into his mouth. He kissed you slow and deep, almost a juxtaposition to the way he was feverishly running his hands, large and calloused, down your body, and when his fingers grazed over the patch of nerves just where your lowest rib met the curve of your waist, you shuddered in his hold. 

You could taste the tea he’d been drinking on his tongue, cloyingly sweet, and it was almost too much when mixed with the heady, spiced smell of his cologne. Everything about him was overwhelming you in the best way possible, rendering you pliable and soft in his hands. Fuck, Wriothesley needed his own warning label. It was almost funny, really, just how riled up you were when he was the one who had been drugged with an aphrodisiac. 

His teeth caught your lower lip as he drew back, tugging, before he was diving back in, hands planted firmly on your hips, and you let out a stuttering gasp as he pulled you forward, his bare cock pressing against your stomach. 

The way he shuddered at the contact was enough to make your head spin with arousal, and when you shifted forward once more, just to see what he’d do, the grip on your hips grew to nearly bruising. 

“You have no idea,” he husked, low and rough, the very threads of his sanity slipping from between his fingers, “how hard you’re making it to hold back.”

His words shot straight between your thighs, and you rolled your hips again, loving the way he stiffened. You felt his palm, dragging slowly up your body, then finally moving to cup your breast through the fabric of your bra, squeezing. You arched your chest into his touch, his name whisper soft on your lips. 

He unfastened your bra after some fumbling, his coordination clearly beginning to become impacted by the drug. Once the garment was discarded, he barely gave you time to breathe, and you gasped when his head dipped down, mouth dragging across the valley of your breasts, skating along the side of one before his lips found one of your nipples, drawing it into the heat of his mouth.

He groaned at the taste of you, indulgent, as he laved his tongue over your flesh, hands sliding up to grip your waist, holding you in place, allowing him to explore the newly exposed skin with his mouth as much as he pleased. He was strong, his grip like iron, but it didn’t prevent you from slowly rocking your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his bare cock, and the way he groaned into your skin was a sound of delirious pleasure. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, almost disbelieving, “fuck, I’m a lucky man.”

His tender words made your heartbeat quicken, and you squeezed him closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers catching on the buttons of his shirt, and you quickly unfastened them, pushing the cloth away to smooth your palms over his bare skin. Gently, you pushed him back against the chair you were both situated in to look at him, and the sight before you was almost too much.

You already knew he was muscular, that much was obvious by just looking at him. But beneath his clothing, among thickly corded muscle was a patchwork of scarred flesh. You’d known about some scars; three of them crept up over the collar of his shirt, partially hidden by the straps he wore around his throat. There was also a collection of them on his arms, and of course, the one under his right eye. The ones that were hidden wove their way across his chest like a roadmap, some of them faint, and others more prominent, pale threads across his already pale skin. You laid your palm against him, tracing the one closest, and he shuddered, leaning into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. Your fingers skimmed down his chest, to his trim waist, and when your thumb caught in the deep v at his waist, he let out a soft grunt. 

One of his hands moved from your waist to your hip, squeezing the plush flesh, then migrated to the apex of your thighs, and when his middle finger rubbed you through the sodden fabric of your panties, a high, breathy whine tore itself from your throat. He pressed harder, and your back arched, eyes falling half-lidded when he circled your clit through the fabric.

Then, without warning, he was pushing the cloth aside, and the feel of his calloused finger dragging across your entrance was enough to make you jerk in his hold.

He dipped his head, forehead making contact with your shoulder, and it took you a moment to realize he was watching himself, observing the sight of his hand between your legs. When your hips twitched, he used his opposite hand to hold you steady, effectively forcing you to stay in place as he did what he pleased with your body. 

“Please,” you whispered, and that was all it took for him to tire of his teasing, sinking his finger inside you with a slow, indulgent movement.

You gasped, the sound bleeding into a moan when his finger curled inside of you, and he pushed you down, forcing you to take him to the knuckle. You whispered his name as he curled his finger again, and when he added a second finger, you squeezed your eyes shut. He groaned at the sound it made when he thrust his fingers into you, the lewd, embarrassing schlick of you around him, and you had to take a moment for your jumbled thoughts to catch up with you. His fingers were so much thicker than your own, not to mention longer, and he was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. He thrust again, and you cried out, hips twitching, causing him to tighten his grip. 

The curl of his fingers hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars, and when he felt the way it made you tighten around him, he began to abuse it with everything he had. 

“Oh, Gods,” he groaned, “you’re so wet.”

You could do no more than gasp as his palm ground against your clit, and he held you there, forcing you to take it as he pressed in slow, maddening twists of his wrist before replacing his palm with his thumb.

It was arousing how easily he could manhandle you, and you had absolutely no desire to fight against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were getting close, embarrassingly quickly, and you could do nothing to stop yourself from hurtling towards that end, walls throbbing and contracting around his fingers.

One of your hands shot between you, encircling his thick wrist, and you weren’t sure what the purpose of that was, either to push him deeper or simply to find purchase, but you did know that your desperation made his dick twitch where it was pressed between you, forcing him to stifle a groan.

You convulsed in his hold, hips jerking in his iron grip, his name on your lips, and with a final press of his thumb against your clit, you came hard around his fingers, biting down into his shoulder, and he worked you through it with slow thrusts that made stars and celestial bodies dance across your closed eyelids. You called his name, urgent and drawn out, yet high and needy, and he replied with a groan of his own, his free hand flying from where he was holding you in place to wrap around his own cock, palming it, thumbing the head, forcing a moan from between his teeth.

You slumped heavily against him as you fell from your high, and when he withdrew his fingers, you let out a shuddering breath, the sensitivity sending your thoughts into nonsense. Your head was spinning, thoughts in a daze, and all you could feel was him as he panted for breath. 

Seconds of silence, only interrupted by heavy breathing, passed before you rose on unsteady legs to discard your panties before you were settling over him once more, and he watched with hazy eyes as you shifted forward, pressing your bare cunt against the underside of his shaft in a slow grind. His mouth fell open in a silent cry, brows pinching upwards, the sensitivity clearly unbearable. Suffocating, maddening lust worked its way through your bloodstream like a toxin, and you knew he needed more, from the way his hips rutted up in halfway thrusts as you rubbed against him.

“Fuck,” he choked, head falling back as the tip of his cock caught against you, “I wanna–”

You rocked forward, and his entire body jolted, tearing a groan from deep in his chest.

“What do you want?” You asked, breathless, and he lifted his head to look at you, the fog of desire in his eyes downright sinful.

He yanked you close, trapping his cock between your bodies, and into a frenzied kiss, his restraint all but gone as he unabashedly moaned at the feel of your skin. 

“I want,” he husked, mouth pressing open kisses against your jaw, and he stopped, breath hot against your ear, “to be inside you.”

Your breath left you in a rush, and you drew him into a deep kiss, one he returned with vigor, hands smoothing down your body to grab at your hips, pressing you forward and against him once more, and when you pulled back, his eyes were wild with desperation and maddening lust. 

“I don’t have protection,” he said, and you shook your head, dismissing him.

“I’m on birth control,” you said. Siegwinne made the tonic you took, something she supplied even to female inmates to help with lightening periods. But right now, it would be used for its intended purpose. Wriothesley nodded as he took this information in, seemingly relaxing a little.

“Please,” he mumbled, and you blinked, surprised to hear him beg for anything, but you were hardly going to deny him, “I’m going insane. I need you.”

You took a shuddering breath as you shifted up, using one hand to brace yourself as you took his cock in your hand, pressing him against you. You both cried out in unison at the feeling, even the slightest whisper of much needed friction enough to make you feel lightheaded, and you felt his hands grasp your hips, urging you downwards.

You sank down, slowly, and even the tip of him was a stretch, a dull ache blossoming as you pressed closer. Both hands landed on his shoulders, breath heavy, and he groaned lowly at the sensation.

“Slow,” he said, fighting for control, “c’mon, you can take me. Relax, deep breaths.”

You nodded, once, as you did as he instructed. Your knees shuffled as you pressed yourself down, met with more resistance, and forcing you to stop, gasping for air. He was only halfway in and you already felt full, stretched to accommodate him. It was unfamiliar and new, and you weren’t used to this, but his grip was tightening, and with a deep breath, you thrust down, taking the rest of him in one quick motion. 

The sting of the stretch danced across your frayed nerves like a livewire, and you grit your teeth, head slumping forward as Wriothesley let out a long, low groan, both of his hands rushing to your hips, squeezing, keeping you in place. 

A string of curses left his lips as his head fell back, and you could feel him throb inside of you, so deep you could hardly believe it, stuffed full to the brim. 

“Just– oh, or you could just take it all. Fuck,” he quieted, breathing heavily, before speaking again, “are you– did that hurt you? Are you okay?”

The pain wasn’t horrible, and you hesitated to even call it pain. It was just an ache, dull and unpleasant, but you’d been wet enough that taking him hadn’t caused you any actual damage. You sat still as you adjusted, the aching burn of the stretch rapidly fading into something maddening, replaced by a desperate need. 

“I’m fine,” you said, voice strained, “I’m okay.”

He nodded, once, before drawing you close, linking your mouth to his in a kiss far more gentle than you’d expected. You felt him throb, and when you squeezed, you got the pleasure of hearing him groan your name.

“You’re so tight. Please, please– yeah–”

His head fell back as you rocked your hips, lifting yourself up, only to sink back down, and when you repeated the action, he groaned helplessly, a string of almost nonsensical praises spilling past his lips, only serving to make you want to wreck him even further. 

Sheer, uncontained relief was tangled inextricably with every sound he made, his hands squeezing your hips as you took him again, and again, and again, and oh fuck, you felt like you were being split open, impaling yourself repeatedly on his fat cock. The burn from before turned into pure ecstasy, the stretch of him inside of you intoxicating, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck as you moaned out his name. He wasn’t even bothering to stay quiet, not that it mattered, nobody could hear from outside the heavy office doors, which was an advantage right then. 

You keened as his hips rose to meet you, the base of his dick rubbing against your clit. You sank down, taking him fully, ejecting any rational or sensical thought from your head, grinding in deep, easy circles, and you could feel blunt nails digging into your hips as he held you in place, totally drunk on pleasure. 

His grip eased as you slid back up before taking him again, and he was kissing you frantically, one of his hands flattening against your breast, rolling the nipple under the rough pad of his thumb, making you whimper into his mouth.

“Faster,” he hissed, pulling back to meet your eyes, “faster, ride me faster.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, using them as leverage to move yourself faster, arching your back as the new speed made you see stars, and you whined, burning pleasure shooting through you at the grind of his cock against your clit.

“Good girl,” he groaned, dizzy with pleasure, “yeah, just like that.”

You could feel yourself getting close again, and you groaned his name as you swiveled your hips. Your thighs were beginning to burn with the exertion, even with just the short time you’d been moving at this pace, and when he felt you shudder, his hands found your waist, helping you along.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” Wriothesley panted, “that’s it, fuck me just like that.”

He was moving you with his own hands, easily, and you tried your best to move along with him, swiveling your hips whenever he bottomed out, and his head fell back in rapture, gasping for air. 

Your orgasm was approaching fast, and you were helpless to its pull as you sped up, chasing after it frantically, the sound that filtered through your clenched teeth one of desperation. You felt like you were losing yourself, and when you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his throat, an unrestrained groan fell past his lips, his hips bucking up with enough force to make you see stars. When his thumb pressed against your clit, you tipped over the edge hard, stilling as you clung to him, sobbing his name into the curve of his shoulder.

You tightened to a vice grip around him, throbbing as your climax crashed over you, and you heard him growl at the sensation, hips bucking, still working his cock up into your messy cunt. Before you could even start to come down from your high, you were moving, and the frigid steel of the floor met your back, rapidly heating from contact with your skin. One of his hands gripped at your leg, tucking beneath your knee and holding it up, and then he was driving forwards, hips slapping against yours as he filled you once more.

He paused, shaken by the intensity of the sensation, before his head pitched forward, breath heavy, and he was thrusting again with a renewed vigor, nails digging into your flesh. 

His name was the only thing on your tongue as he fucked you, so good it made you feel like your head was emptying itself out. His mouth found yours as he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his forearm, laid beside your head, giving him more freedom to do what he pleased with his hips. The base of his dick was rubbing against your clit once again, and you whined, squirming beneath him, but he wasn’t letting up.

“Wriothesley,” you gasped, head fuzzy, completely cock drunk as he broke the kiss to mouth at your neck, “deeper.”

He groaned, low and indulgent, and when his hips snapped forward, filling you completely, your back arched against his chest.

“Deeper?” he repeated, the baritone timbre of his voice lowered to an uneven bass, “you want it deeper? That what you want, gorgeous?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “please, give it to me.”

A low, rough chuckle was the only warning you got before he was thrusting forward, hips flush against yours, and he repeated the action, again, and again, and again, making you bite your lip to keep from wailing at the intensity of it all.

“Oh, fuck,” you heard him gasp, stricken, indulgent, “fuck, yeah, that’s it.”

It felt so good you could hardly think, and when you babbled his name, lust drunk and fucked dumb, he pressed soft kisses along the column of your throat, almost like a reward, a thank you for letting him do this to you. 

His pace was growing sloppy, but he showed no signs of letting up, and in the back of your mind, you figured was probably just going to keep on going, even if he came. It was rapidly beginning to become far too much for you, and you moaned, high and breathy, when he rammed himself all the way in, grinding his hips before pulling out less than a quarter of the way, then thrusting back in. He was so deep, and you writhed under him, fingernails scraping against the floor before you were clinging to him. He was moaning, low and breathless, the way he was moving causing you to helplessly spasm around him, forcing you violently over the edge when the base of him rubbed just right against your aching clit. 

You could feel tears, beading at your lashline as the sensitivity became maddening, but he wasn’t letting up, even as you arched and bucked and wailed beneath him, the intensity of your climax rendering you incoherent. He knew exactly what he was doing, just how to push every button he needed to, and you were halfway between deliriously begging for more or sobbing at the sensitivity. 

A string of curses left his lips as he came, gushing hot and thick inside of you, but he wasn’t even pausing, even as his groans tapered into breathy moans from the way he was overstimulating himself. You could feel him, throbbing, pulsing inside of you as he filled you, uncaring of the way his cum  dripped out of you. The sound of it, combined with the slap of skin against skin, was unbelievably lewd, but you hardly had the wherewithal to even think, let alone be any kind of embarrassed. If anything, it only drove you higher. 

“Fuck,” Wrothesley cursed, low and broken, “I need it again, please, again– fuck!”

He shifted back, grabbing at your legs and pressing them down beside you, and you thanked the Archons you were flexible as he continued, leaning forward once he had you in the position he liked and taking your body with abandon. He was hardly bothering to hold back his strength as he hammered into you, and your head fell back against the floor with a soft thud, eyes rolling back. 

You’d never felt like this before in your life. Your legs were growing sore, and your back was going to be stiff from the way he was fucking you into the floor, but you didn’t care, not as you got to listen to the way he was saying your name like a prayer, how he was caressing and kissing your body like it was sacred. Exhaustion was a heavy weight against the blurred edges of your mind, and all you could do was lay there and take it as he chased after what he so desperately needed.

It didn’t take long for him to grow close again, and he whispered your name as his end quickly approached. You yanked him into a kiss, which he returned with a groan of ecstasy, and then, with a final, deep, shuddering thrust, he was cumming. The force of it made his entire body tremble, and the sound he made was one of satiated, relieved bliss as he emptied himself out inside of you, the heat of him almost suffocating, burning you from the inside out.

His hips jerked with unconscious movements and spasms as he drifted down from the staggering height of his climax, his breath heavy, and he slumped, weakened, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. His mouth pressed lazy kisses against your skin, and you lifted a hand to run it through his hair as he finally, finally began to grow soft inside of you.

The two of you lay there, still joined, for what felt like hours, bathing in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of it all. His breath fanned across your skin, feather soft as he lifted his head to join your lips together, before he slowly pulled out, rolling off of you, dazed. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice hoarse, and you arched your back, flexing your body. You winced at the soreness. You were undoubtedly going to have bruises from how hard he had been gripping you. 

“I’m fine,” you said, “are you–”

He snorted. 

“Yeah,” he said, “that uh… that did the trick.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly. You didn’t know how you’d be able to stand after that, genuinely. Your legs felt like jelly, and a deep, all consuming exhaustion was settling over your senses.

“You think it’s gone?” You asked, “the drug, I mean.”

He looked at you sidelong. “I don’t feel uncontrollably horny anymore, so I’d say so.”

Wriothesley sat up, flexing his shoulders. He tucked himself back into his pants, and then he was gathering you into his arms, rising to his feet.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Taking you to the bath,” he said, “I have a bathtub, in my living quarters.”

You relaxed, settling into his arms. “Oh.”

His living quarters were attached to the office, through a door you’d somehow never noticed before. You were far too tired to take in any of the details of it, instead opting to close your eyes and rest your head on the nearest comfortable spot on Wriothesley’s chest, which he didn’t seem to mind at all. 

He set you in the tub, and after the water was run, you were surprised to see him climbing in along with you. It wasn’t unwelcome, and seeing him completely bare was hardly a bad thing, and you were pleasantly happy when he began to gently wash you, and once he was finished, he tugged you back, settling you against his chest.

The bathroom was silent, save for the musical sound of running water, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, settling into the comfortable atmosphere. 

“I meant what I said, you know,” Wriothesley said, and you opened your eyes to look up at him.

“What?” You asked.

“About being fond of you,” he said, “you’re… an amazing woman. I want–”

You leaned up, kissing him, and effectively giving him an answer to his thoughts. He sighed into the kiss, content, one large hand rising to cup your face, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

“I guess Siegwinne succeeded,” you said, and Wriothesley smiled, amused.

“I guess she did.”

You stayed in the bath much longer than you expected, until the water became cold, and once that happened, Wriothesley whisked you off to the bed, tucking you under the covers after supplying you with one of his shirts to wear. You smiled when he joined you, now dressed in a pair of sweats, chest left bare, and curled up beside you, tucking you close to his chest. 

Sleep came quickly after the lights were switched off, the exhaustion from before spreading over you like wildfire. 

And, when he thought you were asleep, you felt him, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his body relaxing against yours.

BONUS:

You were agonizingly sore. Your stiff muscles had stiff muscles, and while Wriothesley was sheepish, and apologetic, and promised he’d treat you to dinner to make it up (which you would be taking him up on), it made walking back to the infirmary the next morning a little difficult. 

What was even worse was the look on Siegwinne’s face when you entered, ruby red eyes knowing as she watched you approach.

“How’s the duke?” She asked, and you handed her the accursed thermos without saying anything.

“Fine,” you said, slumping down into your chair with a sigh. 

She smiled. “Good. Are you seeing him again tonight?”

You turned, brows furrowed. “How did you know about that?”

She shrugged, unbothered. “Someone saw you leaving his office this morning. I suppose what I put in the tea worked a little too well.”

You stared at her. “Siegwinne, you put an aphrodisiac in his tea.”

She paused, concerned. “No I didn’t. I put a supplement to further enhance his desire for you. If we’re being frank, it’s closer to a love potion. Just to get rid of any inhibitions. It’s medicine. But it isn’t meant to cause anything like–”

You rolled back your sore shoulders. “Yeah, well, it did.”

Her face went pale, but she briefly covered it up. “I… suppose I miscalculated.”

You laughed, then. Really laughed. It startled Siegwinne, who stared at you with growing concern.

“It’s fine,” you said, “whatever, Siegwinne. At least you don’t have to keep going with trying to set us up. Focus your energy on making ‘love potions’ that aren’t aphrodisiacs in humans, okay?”

She flushed, quiet, then nodded, once, her eyes taking on a determined look. You were beginning to regret saying anything. 

With a smile, and a good natured nod, she put her hands on her hips, ever the dutiful nurse.

“I’ll get right on that.”

Fin.

[animelover28sworld]

When You Say The Safe Word.

Characters: Scaramouche, Zhongli, wriothesley, Kaeya and Tighnari

Warnings: NSFW, hair pulling, name calling, teasing, double cocks (Zhongli) slight breeding kink, unprotected sex

Info: saying the safe word during s3x

A/N: this is my first time writing Genshin smut so it will be bad so please bare with me a bit plus half of this was written late at night.

WRIOTHESLEY

Don't get me wrong, you love rough sex with WRIOTHESLEY but today was a lot rougher than usual. He had a long day at the fortress of meropide and you understood that plus hardly gets any days or nights off. So tonight he was rough, all it started out was a simple kiss then turned out to be a heated make out session then to sex. He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow while gripping your hips hard enough that you knew that there were going to be bruises the next day, but you couldn't take it any more "pine- pineapple." You choked out but he didn't hear you and just kept going. "wriothesley pineapple!" You said, that time he heard you and completely stopped what he was doing and took his hands off of you. "are you okay love?" wriothesley asked you. "Y-yeah you were just a lot rougher than usual..." You told him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean too." He apologized. "I know you are." You told him. "Do you need anything?" He asked you. "a nice warm bath would do and cuddles." You told him. "Your wish is my command." Wriothesley told you.

KAEYA

Oh boy, you think you would have to use the safe word with KAEYA a lot but actually you never really did, even when both of you got drunk he was gentle with you. Except for tonight, you honestly didn't know what got into Kaeya, you saw this side of Kaeya before but this felt different somehow. He had you on all fours pushing your head into the pillows, mascara running down your face from the pleasure, but then it got too much for you, it felt like you could barely breathe because when you wanted to come back up for air Kaeya just pushed your head down. "K-Kaeya apple!" You said before he could push your head back down. When he heard that he stopped, then you sat up coughing. "I'm sorry, I was a little rough wasn't I?" Kaeya asked you. "A little? More like more rough." You told him. "I'll run you a bath okay?" Kaeya told you. You nodded your head "okay"

SCARAMOUCHE

Now with SCARAMOUCHE you always have rough sex, very much like Kaeya he would have you on all fours but instead pushing your head into the pillows he would pull your hair up and never give you any breaks. "Hah you like that you slut?" Scaramouche said as he pulled your hair up. You whined yes you did like it but it got too much for you. "Scara orange." You whined, he clicked his tongue and let go of your hair so let go of you. "You were taking me so well what changed?" He asked you almost it sounded like he was mocking you but you knew he actually cared. You were too tired to say anything. Scaramouche sighed "I'll get a bath ready..."

ZHONGLI

You gotta remember that ZHONGLI is a dragon that has a human form so usually he has a heat cycle. Which usually means he gets heat cycles as weird as it sounds it's true, anyways this isn't your first time having sex with Zhongli while he's in heat. It's usually not that bad but this time it was bad, he put you in a mating position you found out that Zhongli had a breeding kink while he's in heat so all he could think about right now was stuff you full of his cum, he wasn't slowing down and you know he wouldn't be slowing down any time soon, plus it didn't help taking both of his cocks in you, usually you would do one but you thought why not tried the other one and man did you regret it because you felt like you could barely breath. "Zhongli b-blue." You croaked out. You heard him growl when you said that, was he pouting? "Are you okay Y/N?" Zhongli asked you as he sat you up. "I just need a break..." You told Zhongli, your voice was a little scratched out from all the screaming and moaning, he got you a cup of water. "Stay here I'll run a bath." Zhongli told you.

TIGHNARI

(I don't know who's fanart of this is Tighnari but all the credits go the the artist)

like Zhongli TIGHNARI has a heat cycle he usually gets through it with medicine, it doesn't totally get him through his cycle but it makes it a lot less painful for him. but it doesn't help when you are around because the medicine doesn't do shit for him, all he thinks about is taking you right then and there. which he currently doing once he got home to you. "Do you know how much I craved for you all day?" Tighnari asked you rutting into you, you couldn't say that much because Tighnari was literally fucked you out of your mind and too rough. "Tighna-Tighnari Kiwi." You groaned out. When he heard that he stopped and looked at you, and saw you completely wore out. "I'll get you a towel and you glass of water and get a shower running." He told you. "Okay." Is all you could say.

[chiscaralight]

thinkin' about modern au overworked, sugar daddy!wriothesley. he’s so pent up and frustrated from his stupid job, what better way to relieve tension than with that cute body of his sweet, sweet sugar baby?

which is exactly why he has you like this, nose pressed against his hard pelvic bone as he fucks your mouth in the living room of his huge penthouse. The job pays extremely well, a little too well, and he has no idea what to do with all the money. so he’ll throw it all at you! with the way you’re working those lips around his cock, he might just buy you your very own. your sweet laugh is muffled, but he doesn't know why you think it's funny. he's being dead serious.

he's not very patient either, because he doesn't even let you get your clothes completely off! your cute little skirt is bunched up around your waist, his large hands gripping at the fat off your ass as he bounces you up and down on his length. it's insane to him how small you are, fully able to hold and use you like this. you can't even fight back at this point, you're just going stupid on his cock! that expression on your face, the way your nails are digging into his shoulders, is the exact reason why he can't get enough of you.

and he's ripping your shirt, the sound of buttons popping off ringing in your ears so he has access to your tits. you whine in protest as he bites down on your sensitive bud. not because it hurt, but because this is the thousandth time he's ruining one of your favorite clothes! he's detaching momentarily, groaning about how he'll replace it. he doesn't even know why you complain, he'll buy you twenty more of the same type if you want. just let him take good care of you tonight, and you can ask for whatever you want.

the two of you barely make it up the stairs when he decides he doesn't care enough for a bed to walk the remaining what, ten feet? so your back is pressed to the cool wall of the upstairs hallway, tongue chasing his own as he fucks up into you, strong arms hooked under your knees. you're moaning into his mouth, eyes starting to water from how thick he is. no matter how many times you let him lay waste to you, your tight cunt struggles to fully take him as he drills into you. but it's exactly what he loves.

he stops to put you down, pressing your face into the wall before he slides back in again. you can't even hold back the sister noise that leaves your lips and he's grunting at the sound, hips slamming forward in one thrust. unable to catch your breath before he moves again, your moans start to sync with the slaps of his hips while your tears run from the pleasure. your eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed as you take his cock just as you always do. but his eyes are watching you. this is why he'll never quit that fuckass job. who'll make sure you're living as lavishly as you deserve? the money isn't even the drive, it's that sweet fuckin' cunt that turns him into an animal,, primal instincts activated as he ruts into you with his orgasm. he'll make sure he's pumping you full of his cum just like he whispered in your ear a few minutes ago. maybe he'll stop paying for your birth control too and fuck a kid into you, then he'll be sure no one else can take that mind-numbing pussy away from him.

your lips are pouted as he guides you back to his room. it'll never not be funny how difficult you find it to walk after, but it's not like you asked him to go that hard? he ushers you into the bathroom and offers for you to spend the night. it's late, and you can pick whichever one of his cars you want him to drop you off in tomorrow. you pretend to think, knowing fully well you'll snuggle into his soft sheets anyway. when you finally do, he's quick to follow, his hard chest pressing into your back. his lips are hot on your neck, followed by a large hand raising your leg. since you're staying the night, another round wouldn't hurt, yeah?

[malereadermaniac]

Smug and Rough ~ Wriothesley x Male Reader

His Grace has taken a liking to you - personally inviting you to his office gets thoughts rushing through your head Top!Wriothesley x Bottom!Reader Word count: 3.6k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

It was common knowledge around the Fortress that The Duke had his favourites; however some people had noticed that you were placed at an even higher esteem by his grace than even the renowned Traveler and Paimon. Every single time that Wriothesley would walk into a room he would scan for you, and if your eyes met his, The Duke would ensure to greet you by name - something that other inhabitants of the Fortress had never experienced. Moments of small talk were frequent between you and the handsome man, along with being given small benefits, such as finishing your work day early, seemingly for no reason - however, unlike yourself, those around you quickly realised that rather than randomly being taken a liking to, The Duke was flirting with you instead...

You were shockingly oblivious to this however, which is fair as why would THEE Duke flirt with some petty criminal? But c'mon, it was so evident that Wriothesley was pulling out all the tricks in the bag to try to woo you! Small talk with him was always full of compliments on your looks or work ethic being thrown your way, and the body language between you two was straight out of a romance book; the taller man placing a strong hand on your shoulder and giving you the sexiest smile ever while telling you 'Your hands are too soft n pretty to be workin' for so long, take the rest of the day of'. Eventually, you had noticed the handsome man's advances, but you chose to ignore them, justifying Wriothesley's actions by way of you being delusional after catching feelings for The charming Duke; and how couldn't you of caught those feelings, this man's the whole package! Not only is Wriothesley physically attractive (with his taller, broader figure, masculine, veiny hands, muscular body and smug, sexy attitude and what not) but this man is THEE DUKE! Wriothesley is a powerful man (and he sure acts it), he owns a prison and has all these people act like submissive bitches around him, he gets paid a hefty sum and has his own building - how could you not get the hots for him!?!? But you kept those feelings inside, following your better judgment to keep them for lonely moments late at night, inside your quarters and in the comfort of your own bed...

That was until you were called to his grace's office one night. Standing in front of his office door, you feel tiny; the massive door daunting as thoughts rush through your head about what this 'meeting' could be about, are you in deep shit?! KNOCK KNOCK. You didn't mean for it to be so loud, but judging from the muffled 'Come on in!' it didn't seem too loud on the receiving end. After pushing open the door, you make your way inside of The Duke's office - noticing its size is smaller than how the outside of the building makes it seem - your eyes immediately look towards Wriothesley, who is sitting at his desk, writing on some paper. The striking man merely spares you a glance, however, once he computes that it's you inside of his office, The Duke stands up from his desk right-away and gives you a smile. "(Y/n)! Welcome to my humble office, I'm honoured" The Duke says with a wide smile as he walks around to the front of his desk and leans against it. "I should be the honoured one, Your Grace" you say with a small, nervous smile - not only is his social stature making you nervous, but his rolled sleeves showing off his muscles and scars, and his sharp-featured face are too. "Heh... I suppose so, you look rather nice tonight - as always" Wriothesley compliments, his words shooting you in the heart with Cupid's arrow, making your face feel hot. The Duke looked incredible tonight, the lighting of his office showing off every strand of his dark hair, his white streaks shining and accentuating his attractive hairstyle. The ravenette's masculine body was just barely on display for you, his rolled sleeves teasing you with His Grace's muscular arms, and his gloves having been removed for the night ensured that you could get an eyeful of Wriothesley's rough, veiny, and large hands; The Duke's body language was also incredibly attractive, his leaning figure and sexy smirk as you ramble about your day after being asked was making your brain short circuit, and damn his nonchalant and attractive voice was what really made the blood rush to your head(s)!

After talking for a little while, once the current conversation was coming to a close, you decided to fill the comfortable (yet nerve-racking) silence with the question that has been on your mind all day. "Pardon my abruptness, Your Grace, but may I ask why I've been called to your office tonight?" You ask, sounding very prim and proper as to feel somehow on The Duke's level "Surely you couldn't be that oblivious? With the way i look at you? And the special attention I give you? Haha" Wriothesley chuckles to himself, finding your innocence and oblivious nature cute and amusing. And after a moment of silence from you, within which you gave an even more endearing confused look to The Duke, he decided to clear things up for you. "Come here and I'll let you in on a secret, (Y/N)" Fuck, you liked to hear your name come out of his mouth; Wriothesley sure knows how to get you to listen, cause you were following him like a puppy. With Wriothesley back in his chair, you stood in front of him, his knees on either side of your legs as you look down expectantly at the handsome man, who looks up right back at you with a sexy smile and a glimmer in his eyes. "I have a crush on you~" Wriothesley says in a lowered voice, dragging out the 'you' to comedically sound like a schoolgirl confessing her love. "Hmph.. That's not funny, Your Grace-" you mumble, your heart-panging from the idea of the man you kinda have a thing for making a joke about that . You tried to move away from The Duke, however his large, sexy hand on your waist and the other holding your hand as he looked up at you prevented you from doing so "Stop calling me that. You can save that for the bedroom if you'd like, I'm not one to judge, but call me Wriothesley, darling" Your mouth went slightly agape at his interruption, your heart-rate increasing at the mere idea of Wriothesley reciprocating your feelings. "And I'm not joking, I've waited for this moment since the day I first met you... properly at least hah" The Duke chuckles, a smile still on his face as he brings your body closer to his, his head now resting against your abdomen as he looks up at you - FUCK HE LOOKS SO HOT! "Well... then I suppose the feeling's mutual..." you say with a chuckle, your head turning away from The Duke's as a warm heat fills your face. A wide smile makes its way onto Wriothesley's face at your response, his heart racing at the idea of finally being able to be with you after a long time of yearning and quiet pining. "Then I assume we should confirm our relationship in one way or another, don't you, my darling?" Wriothesley says with a sexy grin on his face as he removes his head from your body and instead maneuvers you to sit on his lap; manhandling you with absolute ease.

At least half an hour had gone by, that time having been spent with you on Wriothesley's lap; his strong arms wrapped around your waist, not only making sure you can't leave, but also holding your chest against his with the perfect tightness. Your crotch slowly grinding against The Duke's as your sounds of pleasure are eaten up by Wriothesley, whose lips were sealed against yours, his tongue swirling around your own and exploring your warm mouth as you both eat up each other's moans, groans, and whimpers of pleasure; courtesy of your dryhumping. Your fingers threaded through the taller man's locks as you kept your arms around his neck for support, and more soft, breathy moans escaped your lips when Wriothesley unraveled his muscular arms from your waist and moved his huge hands to grip and play with your ass. To prevent literally suffocating, your pushed your hands against The Duke's (fucking huge) chest in order to break the kiss; a thick string of saliva keeping your now plumped lips from Wriothesley's - the look on your panting, blushed face turning the man on, and the horny, hungry, panting look on Wriothesley's face turning you on. "Ha... Ha... Wanna take this... Ha.... to my quarters?" The disheveled man proposes, his hair ruined from your fingers and sticking to his sweaty forehead "Damn right I do~" You manage to get out, your lungs still searing with a desperation for oxygen. With that, Wriothesley stood up from his chair, his hands still on your ass to hold you up; your arms darting back around his neck as your legs do the same to his slutty little waist. The muscular man made his way to a door in his office and kicked the door open, locking it behind him after putting you down; now the smaller office makes sense, this man has A WHOLE BEDROOM INSIDE OF IT!

You take the opportunity to look around his room while Wriothesley locks the door - the last thing the man wants is his assistant or Sigewinne walking in. It was a nice room, simple; a couple of decorations hung up on walls, a window with documents on the sill, a king sized bed with fresh sheets, and two nightstands with some random items on them like a picture frame, a Kamera, and some books. Your brief observation of Wriothesley's room was quickly interrupted by the man himself, a brief mumble of the word 'nosy' escaping his lips as his arms envelope you once more and his lips return to their rightful place; on yours. You can feel your heart beat like crazy as blood rushes to all parts of your body, Wriothesley moving the two of you to his bed as he continually makes out with you; the two of you ending up on his bed very quickly, with you laying on your back and Wriothesley hovering over you, still kissing you. The man above you hastily removes your clothing, kissing down your body with every article of clothing he takes off of you, leaving small marks to cover and claim your body as his. Eventually, you are left completely naked below The Duke, his gaze roaming your body as he hovers above you, simply admiring you - and once he's had his fill, Wriothesley sits up on his knees above you and strips his own body of clothing, practically giving you a little show as he removes his top first to reveal his KILLER body, and then removes all else to finally show off his monster of a cock. "Heh... Like what ya' see, pretty boy?" Wriothesley says in a smug tone, giving you a sharp smirk as he looks down at you drooling over his veiny, thick, 7inch dick, as well as his rock hard 6-pack and plump pecs.

Preparing you didn't seem to take long, the two of you enjoyed every second of it so it probably took longer to loosen your hole than it felt like. Wriothesley couldn't take his eyes off of your hole, the way it tightened around his thick fingers and winked at him making his dick twitch - and you were a hot mess, moaning like a pornstar and moving your limbs uncontrollably on Wrio's bed due to his long, thick fingers fucking your hole loose and curling into your prostate. But the real fun started when Wriothesley knelt on his bed between your spread legs and placed one on each of his thick, muscular thighs; positioning his girthy dick at your hole. Starting slow, Wriothesley thrusts his dick in and out of your tight hole, his sexy voice groaning from the feeling of your warm, gummy walls around his dick; on the other hand, below the handsome man, you're moaning in rhythm with Wriothesley's thrusts, breathy whines and moans of The Duke's name escaping your throat every time his slightly curved cock pushes against your prostate. Once the desperation caught up to Wriothesley's however, things took a turn, his pace increasing in speed and in roughness as the muscular man grips your thighs with his strong hands and starts drilling his dick in and out of you, forcing your back to arch up off of the bed from the pleasure from your ass. As Wriothesley's cock pounded its shape into your hole more and more, you lost more and more control over your body; the pleasure The Duke was providing you with making your writhe in pleasure on his bed, gripping at the sheets and rolling your entire head back onto the bed, letting Wrio only see your jaw and tongue hanging out of your mouth, a view which only turned the man on more. Pleanty of praise and compliments fell out of The Duke's mouth, calling you good and pretty and tight, moaning your name out like a mantra as Wrio's thrusts became borderline sadistic, his cockhead pounding against your prostate with every thrust, milking you of precum. As the two of you kept fucking, your moans became louder and sluttier, turning Wriothesley on more and more; the view below him, of your back arched, limbs twisting, tongue hanging out, dick twitching just added on to Wrio's aching desperation for you - so much so that the man felt inclined to ensure he never forgets this moment. In the heat of the moment, Wriothesley found himself grabbing the Kamera on his nightstand and holding it out to take a selfie from above, snapping a sexy picture of his dick fucking your ass like crazy with you writhing like a bitch in heat, a condom packet in his mouth for an artistic touch (this man is so extra). You couldn't even register what was happening, your focus being on the fact that Wriothesley stopped fucking you in order to look at the freshly printed picture, so, you whine about it "Wriothesley..~ Put that down and keep makin' love t'meee" you say in a tone resembling a drunkard - which you may as well of been, Wriothesley getting you cockdrunk on his veiny dick. And this man wasn't going to say no to you - especially after being denied this pleasure for so, so long... The Duke had covered many different positions with you, having fucked you silly in doggy (with your back nearly breaking from arching down to the bed as Wrio held your arms back, shoving your face into the bed) and even fucking you in missionary for a romantic little break. Your ass was in plenty of pain after a solid 45 minuets of fucking, having been stretched out from Wrio's monster cock, your lungs were out of breath and your poor dick had been milked for all it was worth, small droplets of cum leaking out of your tip with every single one of Wriothesley's vigorous thrusts - you had already came, Wriothesley had not... HEY! This man is real good at sex, of course you'd orgasm before him!

But once the two of you had finally finished up, you both basked in the after glow; Wriothesley more so, who was feeling euphoric after shooting his thick load inside of your tight walls, you on the other hand were more so basking in the freedom from overstimulation... You were both laying on Wrio's bed, catching your breathes and cuddling - Wriothesley's big arm around your waist as his bare chest rested alongside your back. "So then... How would you rate your experience?" Wriothesley asks, a smile on his lips as he still feels happy tingles all over his body, his eyes roaming over your naked, marked up body "A one... My ass fuckin' hurts so bad!" You remark, the pain in your ass coming to the forefront of your brain now that all the pleasure had dissipated "Aww~ does that mean my dick is big?" Wriothesley teases you, his dick already starting to harden again from the thought of him overwhelming you with his size "Shut up... you were real rough too, not that I hated it" You mumble, but in the comfortable silence of Wriothesley's bedroom, he could hear every word of yours "Yeah? Let's go again then, promise I'll be gentle this time, pretty boy~" The now raw, and rugged man chuckles from his remark, his arm now removed from your waist and his hand now instead spreading your cheeks and his masculine fingers gently playing with your rim, his cum leaking out slowly "I'll even use my tongue if you want" The man adds, the horny thought coming to him straight from his now fully re-hardened dick You couldn't deny the fact that his suggestion definitly sounded apealing - and that's how the two of you ended up going for another, more chill round of oral! In order to let you recover, Wriothesley stuck to his word and ate you out. This man made you all comfortable in his bed, put hundreds of pillows behind your neck and back, he laid between your legs and went to fucking TOWN. Your fingers were tightly pulling on the man's fluffy hair as Wrio lapped at your loose hole, shoving his tongue inside and pushing the warm, wet muscle against your walls as his thumb rubbed your rim gently, his other hand either spreading your cheeks for easier access or jerking off your dick. To say you were back to a moaning mess would be an understatement; you were in so much pleasure, Wriothesley can really use his damn tongue! This man didn't even give two shits that he could still taste himself inside of you, he just used his spunk as lube to get his tongue inside of your hole easier! As your moans of his name became louder and breathier, and your dick twitched in The Duke's rough hand, Wriothesley knew you were just about to cum once more - so this man took his hand from your spreading your cheeks and rubbed your underthigh soothingly, working you through your orgasm as his tongue assaulted your prostate and his veiny hand gently jerked you off. With a loud, lewd slurp of his spit, Wrio sat up from your tasty hole and looked as you in your afterglow-ish state - his hair messy and his chin covered in his spit n cum "Ha... You enjoy that... Ha.. Sweet-thing?~" Wriothesley mumbles, his voice dripping in sex and smug. "Ha.... fuck yeah... I did" you say in between laboured breathes "Care toooo... Repay the favour?" The handsome man says with a chuckle as he holds his massive dick at the base and swings it around.

The sounds echoing around the room were even more obscene and filthy than before. You were positioned on your knees on the floor, at the foot of Wriothesley's bed, The Duke sitting on the edge of his bed with his fat cock shoved inside of your throat. You pleasantly surprised the tall man with your oral skills, being able to take a dick like his was not exactly easy as pie, but you sure made it work! What you couldn't take your hands would work on, and what was in your mouth felt heaven on earth, your mouth warm, wet, and slimy as your tongue bathed and cleaned Wrio's dick - his leftover cum from early along with his natural musk tasting salty yet so fucking addictive. Loud slurps echoed from your mouth as your spit trickled down The Duke's girthy cock, down his veins and covering his thick, scarcely pubed balls which were resting against your chin (in-turn covering your chin in spit n leftover cum). The other lewd sounds harmonising with your own were from Wriothesley himself, groans of pleasure and moans of your name ringing pleasurably inside of your ears as Wrio's fingers tightly held your hair, making you look even more disheveled and slutty as you gagged on Wriothesley's shaft. Eventually, you felt a warm stream of thick jizz shoot inside of your mouth, Wriothesley moaning above you as his naked body shined from his sweat and the lighting of the room; he looked fucking godly. And as the panting, blissful-looking man held your head up with his hand, he pulled his fat cock out of your mouth; Wrio ensured that you didn't swallow yet, wanting to see his cum in your mouth, holding your face up to look him in the eyes while you struggled to keep his thick cum from falling out of your mouth. SNAP another picture taken with his Kamera, this time of you on your knees, his finger forcing you to 'smile' as his thick spunk coveres your teeth, lips and tongue; his hairy thighs n feet, as well as half of his semi-hard dick making a cameo alongside you. The kinky Duke grins and chuckles as he looks at the freshly printed picture, then looks back at you; who still has his cum in your mouth. "I suppose this makes us official now, huh?" Wriothesley says with a grin, squishing your cheeks with his rough thumb and other fingers to make you swallow. You grimace physically at the feeling and taste, but give him a breathy 'yeah... If you want I guess', teasing the handsome man above you.

[cubffections]

ALIEN STAGE — genshin kinktober '24 ! !

𐔌❤︎ ꣓ㅤ ˖ what if you were seven hundred lightyears from earth, forced to sing for a intergalactic civilization just to die on stage ?!

some words from the mc . . 𑄸 ₊ ࣪ ㅤ hello my sweet cubbies ! hehe i lied. i'm totally doin' kinktober, so i formally welcome you to my very first ! ৻ꪆ this concept is heavily inspired by one of my favorite pieces of media, alien stage. reblogs heavily appreciated!

! ! ! ૮ ˃̶͈ 𐃷 ˂̶͈ ა 、there's a heavy content warnings for these performances so you must be 18 years or older. minors and ageless blogs dni ! 𖦷 each fic will come with it's own tags, please make sure to mind them! comment to underneath to be tagged !

( OCT. 5 ꣑꣒ ROUND ONE. ) — xiao.

his savior, his universe. love between two people in a dystopia should be impossible, but what would he do without his clematis? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𐔌 service top, breeding, praise. ꣓

( OCT. 12 ꣑꣒ ROUND TWO. ) — scaramouche.

after several shitty years on this alien infested hellhole, the only thing capable of filling his empty days is you. his melody, his unknown. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𐔌 dubcon somnophilia, orgasm denial, oral. ꣓

( OCT. 19 ꣑꣒ ROUND THREE. ) — al haitham.

he swears he doesn't care much for you, there's no time to. but. he can't reach you, who shines, so he'll stand next to you. everyone's ray of hope, his black sorrow. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𐔌 dry humping, mirror sex, face sitting. ꣓

( OCT. 26 ꣑꣒ ROUND FIVE. ) — childe ( ajax ).

oh pitiful soul who lost your light, don't you need a savior? even if your world has collapsed there's no worry, he'll take it all away. don't you need a new ruler of your heart?ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𐔌 hate sex, exhibitionism, humiliation. ꣓

( OCT. 31 ꣑꣒ e..error?! ) — wriothesley & neuvillette.

escape. escape. escape. . . it's time to go all in. 𐔌 groping, size kink, threesome. ꣓

꒰ see you there ! ꕀ all rights reserved © cubffections 2024. no copying, stealing, or translating. ✦ alien stage media clips and music © VIVINOS ꒱

[lilylovestowrite]

LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE ୨♡୧

PAIRING: (Neuvillette x AFAB!Reader x Wriothesley) SYNOPSIS:After becoming the Acting Princess of Fontaine, you've been struggling to follow the rules, but it's all okay! That's what your royal tutor Neuvillette and bodyguard Wriothesley is there to help you with! WARNINGS:(NSFW, spanking, edging, overstimulation, handcuffs, blindfolding, oral (fem. receiving), praise degradation) MDNI

Divider by @/cafekitsune

“Princess?” 

Neuvillette’s baritone voice, although raised slightly so you can hear it from the other side of the door, holds the same tender lilt to it. You feel your heart leap slightly when you leap from your red chaise lounge and bound to the door to rip it open, ignoring the judgemental stare from your bodyguard, Wriothesley. 

“Neuvillette!” You beam as his purple eyes crinkle from the smile he gives you. He plants a chaste kiss on your knuckle, and the glimmer of affection in his eyes when he peers up at you through his long lashes send you reeling. Ever since you were forced to act as a stand-in Princess for Teyvat after the real one had been receiving threats from an unknown source, you believe Neuvillette’s lessons in etiquette are keeping you together. Even if the balls are unbearably boring and the fake smiles you master in the bathroom mirror strain your face, learning to dance and hearing Neuvillette praise your gleeful smile is all worth it. 

He allows you to lead him into your large bedroom, where Wriothesley is reading and sipping on tea. You never really understood why the dark haired man is to be by your side at all times. The Royal family tell you it’s because they don’t want to see you get hurt, but you know that it’s so you stay within the confines of the palace. Many times, you’ve leaped through the bushes of the rose garden, and Wriothesley has yanked you back and marched you back to the palace. Last week, you tried to escape through the library window, allowing the curtains to shield you from his view. You made it to the marble swan fountain by the exit before Wriothesley threw you over his shoulder with one arm and brought you back. At the recollection of the memory, you pull a face at Wriothesley as you sit Neuvillette down. He looks up at you with his eyes, the hue of rainy skies, and rolls them as if he were entertaining a child. 

“Now, Princess, I don’t mean to panic you, but I have been informed of some… mishaps occuring at the last ball you were at.” Neuvillette clears his throat and a small worried expression causes you to practically wilt. He notices this and scrambles to put the smile back on your face. “N-not anything too major though, I heard you did so well in dancing, I’m very proud of you.” 

“Thank you, Neuvillette, I just never want to disappoint you.” You practically simper, and Wriothesley hides a gag behind a polite cough, which Neuvillette is tactful enough to ignore. 

“You couldn’t possibly, my darling.” A gloved hand lightly pets you on the head, and you can smell the scent of moringa flowers get stronger as he approaches you. “Though I may need to teach you something a little different.” 

“Oh?” You reply, adjusting your blouse once you see how perfectly pressed Neuvillette’s navy three piece suit is. He sits you down on the armchair opposite of Wriothesley, the plush of the plum coloured crushed velvet material dipping under your weight. 

“Yes, Princess. It seems that last night,” he circles you behind the chair, his gloved hand trailing the golden embellishments on the back of her chair, “you were… enchanted by the Prince of Khaenri’ah.”

Ah, Prince Kaeya. Prince Kaeya, who moved with the unwavering elegance of a peacock. Prince Kaeya, who in his drunken daze, twirls you around when dancing, the khol lining his eyes causing that one beautiful, cobalt blue eye to gleam with brilliance. Oh, Prince Kaeya, who charmed you off your feet for one night only. You look guiltily at Neuvillette, “I apologise, I believe I had too much to drink-”

“You could have done worse, Princess. The error is on my behalf.” He murmurs from your left, still pacing across the room. You hear the clink of china on the table, and look up to see Wriothesley listening intently, even going as far as to slip a bookmark into the book he’s reading. “You see, people in balls may seem alluring to you-”

“They want you for your power, is all.” Wriothesley remarks, and Neuvillette clears his throat.

“That could be it, or they were simply taken by your own charms.” He offers. “However, I failed to warn you about this. And these men are dangerous, Princess. They might hunt you down, no matter how close Wriothesley is. This is why I thought of a… different way of teaching you.” 

“A different way?” 

Neuvillette’s long locks of white hair dance in the slight breeze as he approaches the doors to the balcony and closes them, causing the strands of starlight to halt to a stop. He pulls his hair up with a black silk ribbon in a high ponytail. The sunlight runs through the blue hued strands as he ties the ribbon into a perfect bow. “Yes, dear. Wriothesley over here and I thought that we could attempt to build up an immunity to seduction.” You feel a slight pang of fear as Wriothesley’s expressionless face glows with excitement, his half lidded eyes flooding with light.  

“You see, Princess,” Wriothesley practically snarls, “we’re going to have to show you the extent of what these desperate Dukes and Princes will go to for your affection.” He hisses into your ear, so Neuvillette can’t hear. “And I’m going to show you what happens when you make things difficult for me.”

Your face flushes and Wriothesley towers over your seated figure, his arms resting on either side of your chair. “I don’t…” You hesitate and clear your throat, your composure cracking like ice under a hammer from the dark haired man’s gaze. Seeking refuge, you look towards Neuvillette for some clarity, but instead you find your mind has gone haywire when you see him slide his gloves off with his teeth. “I don’t object to it, but why must he be here?” You nudge your chin towards Wriothesley, “He has it out for me!” You pout, knowing that Neuvillette will give you a warm smile, his pretty eyes skrunckled up cutely. He does, as you predict, but the smile is accompanied by a shake of the head which causes his ponytail to dance with it. 

“I’m sorry dear, but most of the people flirting with you do have it out for you. Whether it be for your fake status, money or beauty.” He approaches the chair you sit in, right beside Wriothesley, caging you in velvet. “We just want to make sure you aren’t so easily influenced, yes?” 

There is always something hypnotic about Neuvillette. An air of worldly knowledge interwoven with every spoken word, a charismatic voice that makes you feel as if you’re drowning in a sea of calmness. The trance he puts you in floods your train of thought and you wonder if he’s aware of the effect he has on you, the spell he has you under. When he says it like that, with so much care and tenderness, what other answer can you reply with other than “Yes”?

“Good girl, we’ll start easy, okay?” He murmurs, kissing your temple. How anyone has  ever survived this man’s charms is a mystery to you. Wriothesley on the other hand, grins down at you, fixing his glove and gripping your thigh.

“You’re gonna break tonight, Princess.” He sneers, and you feel red hot anger spurt out of you as if it were reflex. The warm, fuzzy feeling from Neuvillette boiling over. 

“I won’t. Not to the likes of you.” You tug on Neuvillette’s sleeve, “At least Monsieur Neuvillette is charming. You’re just annoying.” Comes your sharp retort, even though you both know you’ve been eyeing how perfectly his clothes accentuate his body. This causes Neuvillette to go slightly pink, the apples of his cheeks more visible due to the coy smile on his face.

“Come now, Princess, we shouldn’t play favourites.” He chuckles softly, stroking your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm and pout once more. 

“But you have faith in me, right, Neuvillette?” 

“Oh, Princess…” He pinches your cheek, but it is as light as a petal falling on your face. “I have to side with him on this one. You are going to break tonight. And that’s okay, because you can surrender to us.” Neuvillette muses, eyes glazed over with the sight of you undone and gasping already being painted in his mind. 

This is what strikes slight fear into you. You thought he would make it easy for you, maybe let Wrio bully you for a bit and then offer you dessert after a few crocodile tears. But the way that their sharp gazes pin you to the spot assures you that you are in for a ride.

“Now, angel. We are two princes vying for your attention. Keep your cool, do not show the slightest bit of interest. Not even in your body language. People will often notice what you do rather than what you say to see what pleases you, alright?” He instructs you in what is closest to a teacher's voice. You nod your head in agreement and Wriothesley snickers.  

“What a pretty little Princess we have here.” He practically spits at you, but oh-so-gently kneels and kisses the back of your hand. Neuvillette twirls a lock of hair around his finger. 

“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” You want to pay attention to the white haired man but you’re interrupted by the sharp bite on your hand from the still kneeling Wriothesley, who mischievously grins up at you. “Tell me, Your Highness, do you usually lure in people like this?” Wriothesley plays with the chain on your pants, pinging them. 

“I… Lure?” You reply, and the triumphant grin on his face urges you to collect yourself. “It is not my fault you can’t keep your hands off me.” A similar grin contorts your innocent expression as you press a heeled shoe to his chest, pressing his black shirt buttons and red tie with intricate stitching of a darker, sensual shade of vermillion, akin to the hot anger that flushes his cheeks. Neuvillette takes your ankle and removes it from Wrio’s dress shirt to press a kiss on your shin. 

“You’re right, Highness. I can’t keep my hands off you.” He muses, white hair framing his face, yet not concealing the brilliant violet gaze dripping with lust. Neuvillette’s voice is soft and gentle, yet you have to supress the urge to lean back against the chair to allow him to do whatever he wishes to you. “Nor do I want to.” Nevertheless, you keep your back straight and your gaze downcast towards them, even when Wriothesley stands up to grab your face and squish your cheeks together with one hand. It seems like the blatant act of disrespect has cracked his usually calm demeanour.

“You’re a fucking pain in the ass, my Princess.” He cooes, meeting your icy gaze and then pinning your shoulders back with both hands. “You’re touchstarved too, I’ve seen what books you hide underneath your pillow.” He looks at Neuvillette, and your eyes widen with horror. “Pure erotica.” 

You feel your face fall, and the perfect, golden act you’ve kept up to allow Neuvillette’s lilac gaze to consume you like you are the only one in the world seems like it is all for naught. Your heart pulsates in your stomach. Finally meeting Neuvillete’s flushed face, a tiny chuckle leaves his lips. “Don’t bully the poor thing, Wriothesley, we all have our quirks.” He kisses your nose, “So, Princess, what sort of things do you enjoy in those books, hmm?”

Heat builds up and you feel your composure slip as Wriothesley kisses down your neck, and Neuvillette presses a kiss to your lips. Wriothesley laughs cruelly, “I bet you enjoy being toyed with.” When you moan softly, he grips your thigh, allowing Neuvillette’s soft hands to cup your face. “This kind of reaction is unbecoming of you, Princess.” He emphasises this with a bite, causing you to yelp into Neuvillette’s passionate kiss. You feel the air hit your lips when Neuvillette descends to unzip your pants, sliding the fabric down your legs. At the same time, Wriothesley rips your dress shirt open, and you squeal at his roughness. “Stand up.” He orders. 

With whatever tatters of dignity you have left, you smirk at him. “Make me.” And within a split second, he picks you up. He raises your body like a ragdoll, ready to throw you onto the bed, but Neuvillette shakes his head and rushes to prep the pillows. Wriothesley sighs and places you on the bed, guiding one of the silk pillows under your hips, the cool fabric making you shiver. He unhooks the handcuffs from his belt loop and binds you with them, you thrash against him but Neuvillette hushes you, raking his hand through your scalp. 

“Wriothesley, you’re so rough with them.” He tuts, and the dark haired man only scoffs and pinches your cheek.

“Well, this one is a brat, and they’ve been trying to escape multiple times, haven’t you?” He nudges you, and you glare up at him. Neuvillette gasps, and you look at him guiltily. 

“Is this true, Princess?” He asks, his hand stops on your waist. You avert your gaze and nod. Neuvillette shakes his head in disappointment yet amusement glitters in his violet eyes. “You’re so good for me, but such a troublemaker for him. Is it that you’re more comfortable with Duke Wriothesley, here?” 

Wriothesley rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his dark hair. “A little too comfortable.” 

“We can’t have that, darling. Need you to be completely open with me as well. And here I thought I was the favourite.” He tuts, helping you up and laying your head against Wriothesley’s chest. His pin is nearly centimetres away from your eye, noticing this, Wriothesley takes it off and places it by the bedside table, such a kind gesture from him is unfamiliar to you. 

Nevertheless, you can’t keep your mouth shut. “You are my favourite, Neuvillette. He’s just an assho- mmph!” Wriothesley tilts your chin up uncomfortably and kisses you on the lips, your bottom lip in between his teeth as he grabs your chest. You gasp and hear Neuvillette chuckle in the background. 

“Fucking brat. You think you can get me riled up by making me upset because I’m not your favourite?” Wriothesley smirks and rolls your nipple between his fingers and jostles you in his lap. 

“You are riled up. Bet you’re jealous.” You laugh, the last of your pride melts away as you moan midway through the sentence. You look at Neuvillette, who with a tiny smile, parts your thighs. 

“I see what ails this Princess. I think an attitude adjustment is in order, no?” He muses, and Wriothesley agrees eagerly. 

“Yeah, like fuck they do.” He declares, rolling up his sleeves and holding your thighs open. “Aww, what a mess already. I think you need to surrender, Princess, it’s obvious that you’re desperate~” Neuvillette spreads you open further, and you shrink into Wriothesley from embarrassment as he inspects how much you’re leaking, inner pink walls coated in light cream sheen. 

“Not surrendering! Not yet!” You hiss, although your cuffed hands covering your mouth as Neuvillette plays with your clit. You try to shut your legs, but Wriothesley effortlessly has you spread open. 

“Fine, but if your struggle is as weak as the way you’re trying to hide yourself from us by closing your legs, then expect me to make it absolute hell for you.” You whimper meekly when Neuvillette licks up and down your clit, jolting in Wriothesley’s grip. “What’s that, Princess? Finally using that mouth to make pretty noises? Hmm?” He taunts, squeezing your thighs whilst Neuvillette groans into you, the vibrations causing you to pant. He continues the taunting all the way up to your climax, in which Neuvillette stops abruptly. He tilts your chin up and smiles when he sees your fucked-out gaze. 

“Princess, you need to surrender in order for me to finish you off.” He sits you up, and you shake your head in disdain.

“No, I… I can’t, not yet!” You mumble, and Neuvillette pets your head, kissing your forehead. 

“We’ll let you come down from your high, darling. It’s okay.” His voice is coaxing, baritone, it vibrates and you feel your heart and lower regions flutter. Hyper aware of every kiss of air on your exposed flesh, and especially aware of Neuvillette and Wriothesley. Their breaths reverberate against your ear and clit. Wriothesley’s breath is cold, yet sharp, and Neuvillette,  scorching hot, but ebbing tortuously. Oh, you could surrender, but he’s prepared this lesson for you. Sweet, caring Neuvillette, who only wants the best for you, so you will do your best just to please him. Even if it is at the expense of your own pleasure. However, a darker part of you notices the nonchalant, cocky attitude that envelops Wriothesley, and how you want to prove him wrong. Surrendering to Neuvillette’s overwhelming yet gentle pleasure would be a reward, but to damn yourself to give into Wriothesley? You may as well be a rabbit waltzing into a wolf's den. 

“No! I won’t!” And with that, Neuvillette withdraws himself from between your legs, the sensation of his silver hair gliding across your thighs when he pulls himself away makes you jolt. Neuvillette smiles softly, his light purple eyes glistening and scrunching up with adoration, the same kind looks that melts your heart whenever you please him. Except now, he licks his fingers coated in a sheen of transparent, viscous liquid. It makes you squirm and twitch, the knot in your stomach dullens, but does not unravel. Wriothesley lets out a low whistle, brows raised as he watches you whine from your denied release. 

 “Seems like your stubbornness finally has some use. But you’ll buckle now that I’m gonna do you nice and fast.” The two switch positions, with Wriothesley between your legs and Neuvillette behind you. The only difference is that your head lays in Neuvillette’s lap instead of resting against his chest. The ruffled lace sleeve of his white shirt tickles your cheek as he reaches to brush your hair from your face, smiling softly. His finger trails your nose, down to your lips, and although you want to admire his smooth hands, you close your eyes when the pads of his fingers smooth your brows. Meanwhile, Wriothesley rummages through Neuvillette’s briefcase, his gloved hands producing a device with a suction-cup top. He grins deviously, and you instinctively try to back away, but Neuvillette reaches down to kiss your lips softly, murmuring a gentle reprimand.

“It’s not polite to reject a gift, little Princess.” He whispers, and you mumble a weak apology. His hair flutters across your face as he moves to tilt your chin towards the dark haired man. His eyes, the hue of starlight, glimmer with malice, lust, and innocent glee all at once. “Ah, ah, you should apologise to that gentleman over there.” Neuvillette replies softly, taking your bound wrists in one hand and massaging your chest with the other. You feel your face burn with humiliation. Apologise? To Wriothesley? Who holds a bizarre device that he will undoubtly use to torture you? 

But one look at Neuvillette makes you gulp, the way his hands squeezes and rubs at your breasts making you keel into his touch. You have no choice but to do as he says: “I-I’m sorry, Duke Wri- ah! Wriothesley.” You moan and god, you realise how pathetic you sound because the Duke tilts his head to one side and edges near your sensitive clit with the device. 

“Oh, you will be.” He waves it near your ears, and your eyes widen in horror when you hear it vibrate. You catch on quickly, even with pleasure disgruntling your senses as if playing a piano piece with the pendulum on the wrong tempo. You feel Neuvillette chuckle as his lap trembles with a low chuckle. “This is something I first found out about in the Fortress of Meriopede. They say the Fatui sometimes use pleasure to break their prey, so I’m not sure your dainty little body can take this vibrator, Princess.” His voice drips with disdain and mockery, and you want to weep from the embarrassment. You try to free yourself but Neuvillette still has his finger looped around the chains of your cuffs. Wriothesley grabs your hips and spreads your folds, whilst Neuvillette moves to circle your nipple with his finger, and you finally twitch when the first touch of the vibrator on your clit, and you yelp. Wriothesley quickly withdraws it from you and giggles with sadistic delight, before regaining his composure and diving back in with it. This time, the tantalising pleasure of the device licking your folds with mechanical speed is constant, and you cannot stifle the moans that escape your lips. 

“Fu-fuck! Ah- Wriothesley, d-haah~ put it away! This is an- mm~ order!” You whine desperately between moans, and Neuvillette has to press your lower stomach into the bed to prevent you from escaping. Wriothesley cooes at you and narrows his pretty glacial eyes, only to squish your cheeks, lightly, but it stops you from speaking.

 “An order? From a tied up,” he increases the vibrations,“ fucked out,” once more, and you whimper, “ little mess?” With a final increase, you whine. “What gives you that jurisdiction, brat? You shouldn’t even be ordering me to clean up your messy clothes, but you still do, and you ask me to do things for you out of job requirements. I thought you preferred that, so why is it that the one time I volunteer to do what is not required of me, you protest? Hmm?” He towers over you and laughs in your face as you sob. He lets you go, but you can only whine softly. 

“Fuck you!” You weakly moan, and Wriothesley tugs on a nipple, causing you to squeal. The knot in your stomach builds once more, and you hate that with every mean name he addresses you with, it tightens. 

“Yeah? Fucking adorable. Already am, you pathetic brat. Not even at the highest setting of this toy and you’re already whining like a bitch in heat.” 

Neuvillette and you answer at the same time: “I’m n-not a b-bitch in- ah~! Heat!” Out comes your languid response. “Now, that’s no language we use for a young lady.” Neuvillette shakes his head disapprovingly, but Wriothesley rolls his eyes at him, gesturing to you. 

“What do you call this then? She’s panting.” Wriothesley spits out, and Neuvillette lightly presses on your lower stomach in what is supposed to be a comforting gesture, but makes you see stars from pleasure. 

“I call it a masterpiece. Look, she’s going on strong.” He affirms, but that is the exact moment you buckle. 

“Please, please, please turn it off! I can’t take it, I’ll cum, please! Wriothesley!” You beg, and Wriothesley crawls on top of you, his knees on each side of your hips. His glacial gaze meets yours, and you can’t look back at them. 

“Is that how you beg? You can do better. Come on, Princess. I know you can do it. In fact, here’s some incentive.” He increases the vibrations and you scream in pleasure. 

“Please! Please, Duke Wriothesley, I’m sorry, please, please stop! I can’t take it anymore, I’m so close, please!” You whine between moans, and the pressure in your lower stomach is so strong you feel your legs tremble. Feelings of desperation, humiliation and pleasure liquidise and pool at your eyes in the form of tears, which Neuvillette swipes away as they fall. Wriothesley urges you to continue, and you swallow your pride. “Please, please stop! I want to be- to be good for the both of you and not surrender- please! Please! I beg of you, Duke.” 

“Hmm, request declined.” But it’s too late. Something inside you snaps, and waves of euphoria cause you to grasp the chains that cuff your wrists together. The pleasure consumes you, your legs tremble and let out one last moan before going limp.

Wriothesley reacts first. “You stupid brat, you came without permission. You’re not allowed to do that until you surrender.” His voice goes in through one ear and out the other, because Neuvillette handles you and you find your hole being covered in a jelly like substance and stretched out once more, his violet eyes gleam with a voracity that makes him look so ethereal, he appears to be not quite human. His actions are gentle, he slowly unzips his pants and he calmly embraces you, but the veins in his arm and one side of his neck bulge with desperation. 

You look at Neuvillette desperately, “W-wait, I just came, I’m still sensitive.” 

He looks at you, still sensitive and fucked out from your orgasm, and caresses your cheek. “Although Wriothesley was slightly out of line, your disobedience requires discipline, dear.  But I’ll never be rough with you. You know what words to say if you want this to stop, Princess.” He whispers, slowly easing you onto his length. It causes you to whine and jolt, warmth blooming in your core once more, but you rest your cuffed hands on Neuvillette’s chest, the silk of his white dress shirt clenched in your fists.

“Shh, it’s okay, darling. But you have to take it, it’s a punishment after all.” He whispers in your ear, smoothing his hand through your hair before lifting you by the waist and slamming you back down. You let out a pathetic squeal, and feel Wriothesley snake his cold arms around your neck from behind. One hand holds your chin up, forcing you to look at Neuvillette.

Pink dusts his cheeks, and his high ponytail has blue strands escaping from it, framing his blushing face. He pauses bouncing you on his lap to roll up his sleeves, giving you a kiss on your forehead before picking up the pace: “There you go, Princess- ah~! You’re doing so, fuck- so well.”

His moans are higher than his baritone drawl, but they maintain the smooth lilt his speech usually has. They mix with your louder moans and pants. This dishevelled version of the usually put-together Neuvillette makes the experience seem so much more intimate, so even if you can barely think straight with the pleasure, you hold onto him for dear life. 

Wriothesley, however, had never planned to give you a moment of peace ever since Neuvillette asked him of this favour, and he lands a sharp spank on your ass. “Enjoying this a bit too much, Princess? Should have expected that from you. I know why you squirm when I lift you up to take you back to the castle after you try and escape.” Neuvillette, hearing this, angles his hips to curve his tip more upwards, and it ends up hitting you in just the right place. He continues, his own moans growing louder and breathier. Your pleasure becomes too much once more, and you cannot muster the energy to talk back to Wriothesley, who continues his assault on your behind. “Fucking look at him. What do you say to the Iudex for making you feel so good?”

You’re too busy catching your breath, but it catches in your throat when he spanks you again. “This mouth talks back all the time but the one time I ask you to use it, you don’t?” His voice is severe, and you feel him chuckle from behind. 

“Th-thank you, Monsieur N-ah~! Neuvillette!” It comes out broken and quieter than you anticipate, but Neuvillette feels himself lose control, tears building in his eyes, matching the drizzle that darkens the sky outside of your window. 

You whine at Wriothesley’s relentless spanks and tremble once more as another orgasm builds up, and Neuvillette feels you contract around him, the orgasmic waves of yours causing him to throw his head back. “Ah~ You’re close too dear, right? I’m- haah~ sorry, darling, but I can’t- can’t give you what you want.” He whines with almost the same amount of desperation as you, but pulls out, his own orgasm takes hold and he finishes on your stomach, leaving you high and dry. You whine desperately, but Neuvillette hushes you. The two of you take a second to catch your breaths, and he leans his forehead against yours. “Well done, Princess.” 

“But you’re not done yet, Princess. One last chance to surrender?” Wriothesley guides your cuffed arms around Neuvillette’s neck, allowing you to grasp onto the back of his silk shirt that now hangs off one shoulder, exposing the flesh underneath. His breathing is still rugged and deep, but somehow, the rise and fall of his chest makes you feel safe, so when he guides your head to lay against him, you don’t protest. But at the same time, you do not surrender. You shake your head, resisting the chance to finish. If you could take Neuvillette, you could take Wriothesley. That’s what you think, but as Wriothesley slides into you from behind after propping you on your knees and face resting against Neuvillette, who is slumped against the headboard, you realise how wrong you are.

Neuvillette was going easy on you on purpose, but Wriothesley graces you with punishing thrusts that leave you reeling so hard your moans become silent and only whimpers escape your throat. He finds your sweet spot and hits it at a fast pace, perhaps not going in all the way as Neuvillette did, but his speed much higher. His hips stutter, but his rhythm is consistent otherwise. Although the sensitivity from the previous orgasm has died down, this pleasure is hard to comprehend, so when Neuvillette finds the vibrator under the covers and you hear it vibrate, you begin to squirm once more. 

“No, no, no. You’re fucking taking this, Princess. You needed to be shut up, this was inevitable, so why not enjoy it, hmm? Why not let yourself become a pathetic little mess and maybe we can let you feel even better than you do now?” 

“I’m- I’m not surrendering!” You choke out, and Neuvillette rubs the vibrator across your nipples, dipping downwards to your clit, causing you to break out into goosebumps and quivers. 

“You’re not, dear? That’s great to hear, you’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you.” Neuvillette praises, and you cringe when you feel yourself flutter around Wriothesley, practically hearing shit eating grin. 

“Aww, Iudex, they like it when you praise them. Just felt them tighten.” He grunts, holding you up by the hips and thrusting into you rapidly. 

“Do you, now?” Neuvillette teases, kissing the crown of your forehead when you sob in humiliation and pleasure. “Then, darling, you’re doing so well, but you would do better to surrender, hmm?” He whispers, slowly palming at your chest. “Just let us make you feel good, you’re going to be our Princess from now on, okay?” 

“N-no! I won’t g-give- ah~! Give up!” You whine, and Wriothesley feels his own orgasm building. You can tell by the way he slows down and the way his groans become deeper. He hugs you close to him and kisses you down your spine as he gets closer, and you try and buck your hips to chase your own orgasm but he holds you so tight, you cannot move. 

“Well- fucking done, brat.” Wriothesley moans into your ear as you feel liquid stain your behind. He pulls out just before finishing and sighs in relief. Neuvillette takes your cuffed arms and ducks under them to allow himself to remove his arms around your neck and walks towards his briefcase. He takes out a blindfold and what seems to be a collar, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach, where it pulsates from adrenaline and want. You can’t want more, they’re breaking your defences down and you’ve already forfeited most of your pride when begging Wriothesley, but when Neuvillette praises you for enduring thus far, how can you refuse? Might as well enjoy the pleasure the two give you. Especially now that your blacked out vision enhances the sensation of Neuvillette’s tip tapping against your lips. Wriothesley runs his hand down your back, kissing and licking the flesh hungrily. The pleasure of the vibrator remains on your clit, and you beg and plead, but the two continue to toy with you and your senses, this lesson in etiquette seemingly never ending…

…Neuvillette and Wriothesley have you bent over the bed, with Neuvillette eating you out and Wriothesley sucking your clit, and it snaps. You really can’t take anymore of the edging. The blindfold increases your sensitivity by tenfold and you grip the sheets. “I- I surrender! Please let me cum, please!” You beg, and once you look back, you’re met with the vibrant, violet gaze of your royal tutor, and the jeer of your bodyguard. You feel yourself being flipped over for the nth time, and the two ravage you. Neuvillette, with his feather light touches, and Wriothesley, who targets the spots that make you keel in pleasure. 

Truly, you didn’t think the lesson was over yet, did you..? 

[introloves]

wriothesely has to hold the base of his cock with his fist when he touches himself because he can only cum if his knots being squeezed tight. if you even care

[ashieeeesh]

I rest my case