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#and not being sure if i was able to do that or if doing that was worth it
gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸
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Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂
Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.
‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.
He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.
Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.
The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;
‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’
Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.
To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.
If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.
Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.
‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.
However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.
He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.
So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.
Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;
‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘
When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.
Damian;
‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’
He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.
He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.
Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.
He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.
However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.
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onsomenewsht · 1 day
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Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
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》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
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caraphernellie · 2 days
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cw + info: femme!reader, horndog ellie, farm ellie, outdoor sex, fingering (r!receiving)
   mdni  !!  nsfw  content  ahead  ౨ৎ
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we all know farm ellie was a bit frisky at times… a big farm all to yourselves, she's of course going to take advantage of it. that's your place now, and she'd have marked territory by bending you over every surface in the house at least once or twice. but she'd also be taking advantage of the fact that there's simply no one else around. if ellie wants you, she's going to have you. doesn't matter where, when. outside, inside, day or night.
like when you wear a new milkmaid dress for the first time ever, and seem to miss the wandering eyes of your bewitched wife as you walk outside to hang laundry out to dry. ellie's not sure what exactly it is about this dress that has caught her attention. perhaps the way it tightly accentuates your top half, or it's the easy access of being able to come behind you and slide her hands beneath the skirt, calloused fingers grazing your thighs. a heavy sigh breathed through her nose hits your neck, and tiny kisses pepper down your neck.
"horndog," you murmur, standing on tiptoes to hang some panties up. the action causes the dress to ride up and all ellie can do is grin. she nips at your neck before replying,
"you love it." sloppy kisses meet the curve of your shoulder now, her free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed firmly to her. her hand beneath the dress lightly moves its way up to cup your panties. ellie's lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you sigh softly, completely pausing your activity. you just lean back, and ellie takes her time pressing against your clit, holding her hand over you, her purpose being to make you desperate. she won't do anything else, feeling your panties soil more and more until you start to let out little whimpers. only then (because she's honestly more desperate than you, at this point) does she have the mercy to lean against the fence, pull your panties to the side and fill you with her fingers. and nobody's there to witness it but the clouds and the setting sun.
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farm ellie blurb mmmmmmmmm !!!!! ngl think this one might be a flop for me. but i wanted to write about her so bad right now, i'm actuals desperate um. that's literally my wife husband baby daddy all in one right there. she got me pregnant. trust me bro
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footygirl114 · 1 day
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Soldado (Alexia Putellas X Reader)
One of the prompts inspired me, so here ya go. It's definitely rusty but please let me know what we think!
Prompt: “Don’t just say that and then walk away!”
Walking up to the front door of the Putella’s home was one the most nerve wracking experiences you have ever experienced in your first 18 years of life. This home had become your sanctuary in the last 3 years, the family had taken you in and made sure you were loved and cared for and in return all you did was ruin the best and only friendship you ever had. 
You had grown up with an absent mother and a drunk father, to say your childhood had been rough was an understatement. You were able to fend for your self by the age of 6 and you knew to hide whenever your father came home after 8pm. When he wasn’t drunk he was a half caring father, but you could never shake the black eyes and bruises you learned to hide. The only good thing he ever did for you was to make sure by the age of 15 you had been a good enough football player to be in the training with the Espanyol team. 
This is where you met Alexia Putellas, she was this young superstar but she still befriended you. It didn’t take her long to see through the lies of where the bruises came from, and one late practice where you avoided going home she got you to spill the truth. From then on she made sure that holidays, school vacations, and everything in between you were invited to stay with her family. 
Her mom became like a mother you never had, and Alba was the sister you never had. But Alexia she just always remained Alexia, you never knew what that meant until you turned 18. You had finally realised that she was more than just anything to you, and that you were madly in love with her. Never being able to keep a secret from her, you confessed your feelings to her 3 weeks ago and you haven’t heard from her since she walked away without responding. 
Which brings you back to today, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door of the only place you would ever consider a home ready to say your goodbyes to the family you wish you still had. The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind, and it took your drunk father almost breaking your arm and sending you to the ER to finally realise you needed to get out. You had walked the streets of Barcelona aimlessly trying to find a solution, and when the universe showed you a sign you jumped at it. 
Shaking your head you gained the courage to reach up and knock at the door of the house. While you wait for someone to answer you hope that you can get this out without breaking down. 
When the door opens you come face to face with Alba and you say softly “Hola, Albs.”
Alba smiles softly and leans against the door, blocking your way in, and she asks “what are you doing here Y/N?” 
“I need to talk to Ale” you tell her deciding not to drag this out. 
She crosses her arms over her chest and asks “Why would I let you do that? She shut down and hasn’t said anything for the last weeks and we haven’t seen you, you must have hurt her Y/N.” 
Shaking your head you tell her “I never meant to do that Alba, but I promise I just need to tell her one thing and then I am gone.” You know you sound like your begging and you hope the desperation in your voice helps. 
Before she can respond Alexia shows up at the door behind her sister and says “Alba its okay I got it.” 
Alba turns and looks to her and then turns back to you and says “if you hurt her again I will hurt you.” She finishes with a glare and then moves back into the house. 
Alexia steps outside on the porch with you and softly shuts the door. You take a moment to take her in, knowing this will be the last time you may see the women who has your heart. She’s in her most comfortable state, a pair of footy shorts, a soft hoodie (you note is one of yours) and barefoot.
You both stand there in silence for a minute and she finally breaks it and says “I am not ready to talk to you about it.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I came here to tell you one thing and then I will be out of your hair, you wont need to worry about avoiding me” you tell her softly. 
“what? Y/N whats going on?” she asks softly stepping closer to you. 
You take a step back and say “I’m leaving, I quit the team and I joined the army. I know you don’t understand it but I need to not be here anymore, and I need to do something thats for me, and will ensure I get away from him.” 
She stares at you and doesn’t say anything but a soft “Y/N.”
“No, don’t do that, this isn’t about you this is for me. I love you Alexia and I will always be in love with you but I cant stay on the side line of my own life anymore, I need to become the best person  I can be and get out from this dark cloud that is hanging over here. Its for the best, I cant wait to see you become the superstar I know you will be, but I cant do that here, watching it and knowing that you don’t love me back, that you aren’t in love with me. So this is goodbye Ale” 
You slowly move down the stairs and move to wipe the tears under your eyes, and you make it to the end of the walkway when she moves and says “Don’t just say that and walk away from me Y/N! Thats not fair.” 
You pause and turn your head towards her and says “what’s not fair is losing everything I have ever wanted because I have never been able to lie to you, I am doing something for me and you have to understand that.” 
You don’t let her add or say anything else as you turn your back on her and move to your car, you hop in and start the engine driving away to your new life without looking back. 
8 YEARS LATER
After 8 years of being a proper solider and training to better your self, you were finally able to settle down, and of course Barcelona would always have a hold on your heart. During your basic training your superiors noticed how easy it was for you to learn and communicate in many languages, add in that you knew how to fight and take it hit it made you the perfect soldier for a special ops team. 
During your 8 years of active duty you spent 3 tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and other War torn countries. And when you were not on tour you were either in the UK or the USA learning and bettering your skills to be a better help for the team. It was a long 8 years of constantly being on the go and when an offer came up to go back to Barcelona and be no longer on active duty you took it. 
They wanted your skills to help teach younger inexperienced soldiers and you craved the freedom and your bones ached for a stable home for your self. The Barcelona Police force hired you and were more than happy to have you work for them and also assist the army in their training. 
Barcelona was where you had your own personal demons, and you knew after 8 years of running it was finally time to slow down and face those demons head on. It helped you were much stronger and mentally tougher then when you were 18 and you knew you needed to face them head on. 
What you didn’t expect was to have to face one of them only a month into your new life in Barcelona. You had been out on patrol with your partner and were called to an assault at one of the smaller beaches in town. You got out of the passenger seat of the car and did a scan of the surroundings and you noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the sand and one person lying on the ground. 
You met your partners eye and you both walked over, you with your military training on high alert, one hand on the hilt of the gun at your hip, your eyes roaming the surroundings. When you got closer to the crowd you almost stopped, when you noticed who was standing off on the edge of the crowd but you pushed through when you saw the guy on the ground get up and start to run at someone else in the crowd. You and your partner both sprang into action and got in between them and the guy you were holding tried to take a swing at the other and you easily subdued him and had him on his back with his hands locked behind his back in the blink of an eye. 
Once he was secure with the handcuffs on your hip you hopped up and hauled him up with you, you turned and met your partners eyes who nodded at you and had his guy also in cuffs. He turned to the crowd and asked for any witnesses to what happened, as you moved your guy to the car and sat him in the back seat. 
You sat him down and asked him his side of the story. After listening to his side you closed the door and left him in the car as a second patrol car rolled up for the second guy. You nodded to them and mentioned the guy int he back of your car and you walked back to the crowd. You took a deep breath and readied your self to face the first of your demons. 
“Who’s next to be interviewed?” you asked your partner as you walked up beside him, and he pointed to the group of 3 girls to the left.
Moving towards them you introduced your self “Hola, I am Officer Y/L/N and I will need to see your IDs and then I can take your statement.” They all handed their IDs over and as you were matching them and recording their names and information you couldn’t help but take a peak at the women who held your heart. 
You hadn’t seen her since that day 8 years ago on her mothers front steps, you had followed her career and you knew she was in the middle of a miracle season and she was on track to win everything. Seeing her on the computer screen through a grainy stream wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Just looking at her was slowly igniting that spark inside you that you thought you had buried 8 years ago. 
“Can one of you tell me what happened?” you ask them ready to take notes and keep this professional. 
“so basically, we were lying here and the guy in your car came up and started to give us a bit of a hard time, but were used to it. SO we told him to leave us alone, and then the guy there with your partner walked up and tried to defend us, and the other guy just threw a punch at him.” You had their IDs so you knew this was Maria Leon who explained it. 
“they started going at each other and thats when Ale called 911, the commotion drew more people over and they stopped fighting when they had a crowd and then you guys showed up.” Jennifer Hermoso explained the rest to you. 
“thank you, so to be clear, the one in the back of the car threw the first punch and harassed you?” you asked wanting to finish this up. 
Maria smiled and said “I wouldn’t say harassed, we can take care of ourselves, but yes he started it and threw the first punch.”
“And you both agree?” you ask.
“Yep, he did” Jennifer agrees. 
Alexia just nods and remains silent through the whole exchange. You nod and say “okay this clears things up, someone may be in touch but you are free to go.”
The two of them smile and say their thanks and move to leave, but Alexia remains standing in front of you silent. 
“ale you coming?” Jennifer asks her and it seems to shake her out of it and she nods and moves to gather her stuff. 
You nod at nothing and move to go back to your partner, you both agree you to the statement you got from different people and then you move to walk back to the car together. Before you can get half way there you turn back and look toward Alexia and you meet her eyes, as she’s still watching you. 
It takes your partner nudging you for you to break contact and you move to get into the car. before you can fully sit you hear “Officer Y/LN” yelled out behind you and you turn and see Alexia moving quickly towards you, you close the door and step towards her and away from your partner hearing the exchange. 
“Yes Alexia?” you ask her softly as she stops a foot from you. 
“You’re back?” she asks you to the point. 
“I am” 
“for good?” she asks you again straight to the point.
“I think so yeah” 
“okay then.” she says and moves to walk away. 
“thats it?” you ask her confused. 
She shrugs and half turns to you and says “How does it feel being on the other end of someone walking way from you? It sucks, being left to wonder what they mean and what they are going to do.” 
You can feel the pang in your heart listening to how broken she sounds and you ask her “Can we talk about it?” 
“now you want to talk? What happened to talking 8 years ago?” she turns on you half shouting and you know that she’s drawn and scene. 
“ale, please can we talk somewhere not here, and not when I am on duty?” you ask her. 
She looks around and shakes her head and says “you know where to find me, if you even want to.” As she finishes she jogs away towards her friends and you are left standing there wondering if this is a demon you will be able to tame, or if you were doomed to be in love with someone you can never have. 
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vivwritesfics · 3 days
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So mick or max
Heat/rut
Reader having been waiting for it and purposely flirting with others people to trigger it
(Driver doesn't Wang to mate cause he has seen how much in pain a human can be if mated to a wolf)
Now that has been thrownxoit the window
Reader being fucked seven ways to sunday, being mates cuaee they are literally begging for it 🫠👹👹
Throw ib some breeding kink and a worried driver afterwards and it is 👌🫶
I LOVE YOU
Hope you feel better 🫶🫶🫶
ILYYYYYY and I went with Max bc I don't write mick lol - also I haven't written abo in maybe three years so I'm a little rusty but damn I've missed it.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, biting, hickies, breeding kink
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Max could have killed her. Not literally, he loved her too much to let his instincts take over like that. Well, his instincts would have told him to protect her.
The way she was giggling with Daniel and hanging off of his arm, Max let the growl rip from his throat. How dare she even think about touching another Alpha.
But it wasn't her fault. She couldn't understand the surge of emotions he was feeling when she was so utterly human. But she was his human.
She turned to Max, batted her pretty eyelashes at him and walked away from Daniel. Max released a breath, but he didnt have long to stay calm. Because then she was walking towards Charles.
He may have been a Beta, but he shouldn't have been scenting her like that. What the fuck was he doing, pressing his nose against her neck like that? If only Max had the guts to claim her, Charles wouldn't dare.
When she made a move towards Esteban, a Beta Max didn't particularly like, he growl and grabbed a hold of her, practically throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll.
"Max!" She squeaked, almost excitedly. If she was like him, she would have been able to feel his anger. But she was too human for that.
Max carried her to his drivers room, not caring about the others around him. The world knew about his mate, since he simply couldn't stay away from her.
Once in his drivers room, Max set her down. "What do you think you're doing?" He growled, sticking his nose into her neck and scenting her. She smelt like Daniel and Charles, and he hated it.
The laughing and giggles had stopped as he stared down at her with his steely blue eyes. No, she had become almost sheepish under the stare of the big bad wolf. "I, uh, I heard that jealousy can trigger a rut," she mumbled under her breath.
"Liefde," he said through a groan, nosing at the spot where the mark of his claim over her should be. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"
She pouted at him as he pulled away. "You always say you race better after a rut."
Max let out a laugh, one that reverberated through his chest. "Can you let me get through this race weekend first? And then maybe it will come about naturally."
She knew what he meant. Triggering his rut now would stop him from racing all together. There would be no way to remove him from the bed, remove him from her cunt. Trigger his rut now and he wouldn't stop until his seed filled her belly.
She'd been through one rut with Max before. It was more intense than anything She'd ever been through before. But she loved it. Max, though, he'd been panicking, worried he'd been hurting her through his muddied brain.
She let him get through the weekend. Wore his shirt, his hat, made sure she smelt like him before he raced.
Of course, he won. Maybe it was his desperation to get back to her.
The moment he crossed the finish line, she was in his arms, kissing him the moment he took off his helmet. A win always meant sex, plus his rut was definitely coming.
Max couldn't wait to be done with all the usual formalities. The interviews, the podiums, the meeting with the team. He was irritable, desperate to get to where she was waiting in his hotel room.
As soon as he was done with everything, he made this way back to the hotel. He was rushing, desperate to get back to her.
If all of his flirting with Max's pack mates didn't trigger his rut, seeing her sitting on his bed in the prettiest little negligee certainly did. Maybe it was the smell of her that had a growl leaving his lips and his eyes flashing as he stared down at her.
Immediately he was tenting his pants. She just looked so goddamn pretty, he couldn't get enough. Immediately he pressed his lips to her own. For two seconds, it was sweet.
But then Max had taken over completely, his tongue in her mouth, lips bruising against her own. He moved his lips to her neck and began kissing down the right side. He paid special attention to where her mating mark should have been. But Max wouldn't give her that mark, not until he had a clear mind.
He didn't notice that his hips were grinding against her own. But she was whining as he did, gripping his shoulders.
If Max had more control over his own body, he would have pulled back, would have told her to get out and to let him take care of it on his own. But, in that moment, all he wanted was his girl.
She whined out his name as her fingers reached down to try and pull off his jeans. But the way he was holding her, she was unable to get a good grip. "Need you," she cried through a whine, hands returning to her hair.
Through his muddied mind, Max managed to understand her. Maybe it was because he was feeling the exact same thing. He popped the button on his jeans expertly (his gaming had left him with incredibly skilled fingers) and pulled down the zipper.
But he didn't free himself, not yet. First, he needed to taste her.
His fingers pulled up the material of her negligee, bunching it around her hips. The noise pulled from his lips was inhuman as his lips met the skin of her thigh. God, he loved it, loved noises she made as his lips got closer and closer.
The feel of his tongue running through her folds shouldn't have come as a surprise. But she still released a gasp. "All mine," he said against, the vibrations of his words sending a shiver through his body.
As he sucked at her clit, his fingers moved to penetrate her, the squelching sounds obscene as they filled the room. Her hips rolled against him, riding his fingers Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging and pulling. She cried out his name and he grunted.
Her movements were desperate and frantic as she chased her own release. Max had stopped moving his fingers, lips still working as he let her work herself on his fingers.
But Max didn't let her come undone. He pulled away from her, eyes flashing as he freed himself from his jeans. He pulled her close, holding her legs up to her chest. He pressed his nose against her neck and inhaled.
As his cock pushed through her folds, he pressed kisses against her neck. If he could have said anything other than 'mine' as he rutted against her, he would have told her he loved her.
He set a bruising pace as she felt his teeth against her neck. She couldn't say anything other than his name, leaving her lips like a prayer. He rolled his hips against her own again and again, the pace he set animalistic and bruising.
It didn't take long until she came undone beneath him, body shaking as her legs clamped around his middle. Incoherent babbles left her lips as Max kept going, gripping her so fucking tight.
"Gonna fill you up," he said between grunts. "Gonna breed you until you're full of my babies."
His teeth sank into the skin of her shoulder, not hard enough to break it, as he came. His hips stilled, but he didn't pull out, body half laying against her own.
When Max finally pulled out of her, he laid beside her and touched that spot on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, liefde," he whispered, fingers brushing the hickies and marks littering her skin.
The few minutes he had of clarity before he was ready to go again was spent cuddling. He was going to fill her over and over again for the next few days and, if she wasn't on birth control, there was no way she would have been coming out of this rut not pregnant.
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voxisdaddy · 1 day
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Love Me, Please
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Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairings: Alastor/Lucifer/Adam/Husk/Angel/Vox/Valentino/Tom Trench/Saint Peter
Type: Scenarios/Comfort
C/TW: Swearing, blood, reader written with fem parts in mind (bc this bout periods, duh)
In which you miss your boyfriend/cling to your boyfriend and are being emotional about it. Basically—period emotions.
This is more for me bc it’s that time of the month and I desperately want some comfort lol | also Angel’s I left up to either be platonic or romantic
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Alastor
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He was at yet another unremarkable overlord meeting when he felt something pulling on him. Back at the hotel, you laid on your bed wrapped in a cocoon of sorts, eyes tiredly watching your shadow pulling on one of Alastor’s shadows-which he left to keep an eye on you. Alastor’s grin turned to one of amusement—oh how needy you are when it’s that time of the month for you. The meeting finally came to a close and instead of making his way back to the hotel with a lovely stroll, he disappears in his shadows. Not before bidding a friendly farewell with his dear friend, Rosie. He materializes in the center of your room with a shit eating grin as he twirls his microphone around.
“I was hardly apart from you for more than an hour, my dear.”
Lucifer
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer had errands he couldn’t postpone today and so he made you promise to text him when you miss him and he’ll make his way right back in a jiffy! The bedroom door only closed behind him when he got a text from you. An ‘I miss you’ along with a sad face emoticon. He burst the door open, tears welling up in his eyes, as he crawled back into bed with you to hold you close. You honestly thought he was more emotional than you at the moment.
“My poor ducky! I’m sowwy!”
Adam
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam has been around for ages so I like to think he knows a bit about menstruation. On top of that, he has an army of baddies he likes spending time with-usually training but that's still time spent with them regardless. However he's definitely still rough around the edges since usually with his girls, he uses that to egg them on into being tougher fighters either physically or emotionally. If you're a person who's quick to be a grump or a crying mess then uhhh...just know he doesn't mean to be a dick all the time. He tries though, despite how annoying and tiresome it is. Especially since you make him feel oh so special with how you seem to demand his attention and his attention only. Right now you lay on his chest, looking on at the items set on the coffee table with a glint of amusement.
"Babe-you said pads with wings! I got that! I even made sure the chicken wings came with the good sauce."
Husk
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk is very vigilant so he's quickly able to come to the conclusion that you're on your period before even you realize it. It was just after he finished closing up the bar and returned to your room for a late nights rest when he smelt it. He might technically be an old man, but he's a respectful one and has been around for quite some time. He knows that small. Despite knowing you might be embarrassed to find out that he can smell it, he figured you'd be more grateful that he woke you up so you can deal with it before you wake up feeling all gross and annoyed in the morning. Plus it was worth it to almost immediately get a hug from you after being apart for a few extra hours than he liked.
"Come on. Don't wanna ruin your new pajama's now, do you baby doll?
Angel Dust
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man was out on a much needed night out with his long time bestie, Cherri Bomb. You of course coming as his plus one that his bestie always welcomed like the supportive girly she is. He couldn't quite enjoy himself as much this time around though as he sat at in a corner booth with you hunched over your drink. You're hand gripping one of his hands as if you're afraid he's gonna leave. Despite how awkward he felt trying to comfort you, he did his best and allowed himself to be as sympathetic as much as he could.
"Toot's-if you wanna leave it's okay! You know I'll stick with ya! No need to make ya headache worse than it already is!"
Vox
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox still holds certain belief's and mindsets he had from his time in the 1950's. Part of that meaning him being 'grossed out' by your period and beliefs in woman faking or over exaggerating their monthly disturbances. He learned to keep his opinions to himself though, due to previous encounters with Velvette, and found it easier to just well, cater to your needs. They were easy enough for the most part. Food and beverage cravings? He's got ya covered. Cramps and aches? You're in luck because this man is basically one large heating pad. Which quickly became a downside for him because then you wanted him all the time. Didn't matter if he was working or not. He tried to put his foot down once but it only made you emotional so uhhh-
"Honey, I'll only be gone for one hour. As soon as the meeting ends, I'll lay my head on your stomach, okay?"
Valentino
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino can only smirk to himself when he finds out it's now your time of the month. Which isn't hard to figure out since he woke up to you latched onto him like a koala this morning. A puff of red smoke invades your senses as a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, a third hand coming to play with the top of your head. Valentino, spending years working with woman and people who endure this bloody cycle, knows a few...remedy's. He has his favourite solutions, obviously. Only if you're down. The last time he tried being more...persuasive with his advances to you during these times, it didn't go well-to put it lightly.
"Mi cariño~A good fucking helps with this time of the month, you kno-" ... "Or we could share some snacks. Kitty!"
Tom Trench
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ For this man I pray you are not a bitch on your period. Poor guy already has to deal with his co-star Katie Killjoy everyday. Whatever you deal with on your period though, just know your man is there and keeps your needy ass close. Such as right now, as you sit in an oversized fuzzy hoodie on Tom's couch, watching him and Katie host the latest news live. You glance down at your phone with Tom's messages open. You want to text him but you knew it wouldn't reach him anyways-they had to keep their devices on silent while they hosted. As soon as they were finished with their shift of the day however, Tom rushed to his dressing room to find you staring at the door with open arms.
"The interns told me you were waiting for me."
Saint Peter
𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man would never admit it out loud, and if he did he would word it very carefully, but he loves it when its your time of the month. I mean he feels bad for you obviously; dealing with an inconvenience once a month even in your afterlife does not sound like any sort of blessing, but he's clingy and affectionate himself. And you clinging to him just as much? Oh it's like he's died and went to Heaven-again! Currently he lays on the couch with you in his arms, you both engulfing each other in a snuggly cuddle. He periodically checks the time-as much as he loves this he's still got a job to do. He voices this but quickly finds himself soothing you.
"I'm only going to work, sweetheart! P-please don't cry!"
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This was supposed to be reader missing them but some of them became not exactly that and I’m sorry lol
I’ve had this in my drafts for a month, felt about right to finally post it. I’m also ashamed to admit, it took me way too long trynna figure out what to write for Tom’s dialogue. I love him but if I don’t know him as well as I thought 😭
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littlestarconch · 3 days
Text
Sense of Longing
Pairing : Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel x Reader
→ Hurt/Comfort ; Headcanon form ; Separate ; Established Relationship
🪄 :: Cruel 😭 , Now I feel guilty for even thinking about leaving.
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Xavier
Literally turning the world upside down trying to find you.
Sleeping away his desires.
Sometimes he would even hallucinate that you're in front of him.
There are days where he dreamt about you, but then he woke up— making him felt even more lonelier than before.
Fighting wanderers even more aggressively due to his mind is only filled with you, who did not respond to his texts, nor read them!
It left him devastated, though he may not show them physically.
But his actions are getting more and more reckless each day that passes without you.
There are also times where he got injured because of this recklessness.
And you know what he did? He left it as it is, just letting it heal by 'itself'.
Your return— feels unreal for him
It feels like it's a dream, he was sleeping like usual, but hearing your voice woke him up.
It took him a good minute to realize he's not dreaming.
He would talk to you like how he usually is in his dreams, that is until he felt your warmth on his skin.
He stared at you, his hand unconsciously reached out to your arms.
When he' sure enough that it's actually you— be prepared because he will pull you into his arms.
Heavens! He will refuse to let go even! You have to push him away if you want to breathe.
But I believe y'all won't push him away.
Ever since your return, your first week is filled with Xavier just clinging onto you everywhere you go.
Not quite literally, but you get me.
Sleeping, with you in his arms, is a must.
If not, he will not be able to go to sleep.
Also please comfort him, he had been sleep deprived ever since the day you left without saying anything </3
He longed to be comforted in your arms, feeling your fingers running through his hairlocks.
He longed for listening to your heartbeat, listening to your voice.
He missed them, too much that it hurts.
He didn't realize how much he missed you until you appeared again in front of him.
Zayne
Working.
Doing his thing like usual, though, he will unconsciously look over his phone to see the long waited notification from a certain someone.
When he did not see anything, he, felt quite, weird at first.
Is it worry? Is it sadness? What is it??
At first he will simply shook the feeling away.
But he will no longer able to ignore them after a week have passed.
A week without any news from you left him confused and worried.
He will also not show this feeling, he is literally so stoic no one would be able to figure out he's actually missing you.
Even he, himself, didn't realize he missed you.
He buried himself in his work, staying up late. Even went as far as pulling an all nighter.
There are days where he accidentally fell asleep in his office due to the lack of sleep he gets.
He will still, unconsciously look over his phone to see if there's anything news coming from you despite him burying himself in work.
Other doctors and nurses is definitely worried about him, he had not left the hospital for a long time.
They literally had to send him home to make him go take a proper rest.
Since your disappearance, he would try do things that you usually do.
But everytime he did so, his mind wander off to the memory of being together with you.
Your smile, your voice, your touch.
He missed them.
A lot.
And he is well aware of how much he needed to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your touch once more.
Your return— made him want to immediately pull you into his arms and never let you go.
Upon seeing you in front of him, he wanted to just engulf you into his hold, and just stay like that till he let go and probably will be more than 30 minutes.
But he kept the feeling down by checking if you have any injuries while you were gone.
If you confirm there are no injuries, he will let out his desperation.
Of how much he missed you, slowly approaching you.
His hand on your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand brushed against the lines of your cheek.
Do the same to him, holding his face with both of your hands.
You will see how he just melt into your hold, kissing your palm as he pulled you even closer to him.
Soon he finally engulfed you into his arms, burying his face to the crook of your neck.
Whispering how much he missed you.
Make sure you spare some time for him now, because he will not let you go.
Rafayel
Good God.
He is very worried. Like literally. But on the first week, he would be quite grumpy of how you're not even reading his messages.
But after 2 weeks of no news from his favorite bodyguard turned his angry thoughts to worry.
He had stopped painting after a week have passed without any texts coming from your side.
His mind could not think of any inspiration, all he could think about is just,
Where are you? Are you hurt?
So many thoughts coming through his mind, but he tried to push them off by telling himself that you can handle yourself without any help from him.
But even so, that did not calm his mind at all.
There are days where he went to the beach at late night.
Watching the seas as his mind wanders off thinking about you.
The studio felt so cramped despite the large size, is it because of the messiness in it?
He refuses to clean up the mess, since he thought that no one will come to visit anyway.
You are literally just, disappeared without a trace, and not even saying a single word to him.
It left him devastated.
He is not aware how much he missed you, he thought that he can handle by being himself like how he used to be.
But you proofed him wrong.
Your return— made him realize how much he missed you.
He couldn't even get angry at you because of how much he longed to see you.
Hearing your voice alone washes the worry away and replaced them with relief.
If you ever ask about him being angry, he will immediately say he's not.
He couldn't.
Not when this feeling of longing overtakes him.
He wants to hold you, and will ask if he can hold you.
Once he gets a yes, he will pull you into his arms.
And let out a shaky breath, feeling you in his arms felt surreal for him.
Hearing your voice, feeling your warmth engulfed his figure.
He realized how much he needed this.
The world no longer colored in grey, the colors have returned, along with his inspiration.
Everything has gone back to it's place, because his muse have returned into his arms.
©littlestarconch
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🪄 :: This is messed up bro 😔
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 days
Note
Based on this post here https://www.tumblr.com/ourrechte-blog/740959709140484096
Danny and the latest incarnation of the Demons ends up in Star City. They're doing ninja stuff as a way to get resources and find a way home. Green Arrow overhears mentions of "Great One" and "Demon's Head" and maybe Dani is there and gets called dahlia and it's misheard as Talia
Ollie: Batman, come over here and get your de-aged villains
Bruce: What makes you so sure they're mine?
Ollie: They're ninjas and their leader, who kicked my ass, is referred to as "Great One" so yes, I'm sure these are the League of Assassins under an alias. Or clones
Ra's finds this entire thing hilarious. Damian, not so much
Oliver is not having a good time. He noticed some shady activity going down in his city's underbelly and decided to investigate. Star City wasn't as crime-infested as Gotham, but it wasn't sunshine and rainbows either.
It was far better hidden, but corruption ran amok in his home, so he had to run around to get things fair. He noticed the ninjas only after a while of them being in town. At first, they seemed focused on gaining territory.
They moved from the poorest neighborhoods to the richest, slowly beating out the top dogs. It seemed the leader had the same mentality of prison- beat the toughest person on his first day and become the new number one. Usually, that wouldn't work with such solid and old operations, but somehow, the ninjas were doing it.
They cut off resources. It causes discord in the lackey's ranks. Pulled funding from who knows where. And Blackmailed the rest into submission.
It was a hostile takeover. A plague on the control of the criminal empires station in Star City.
And there was nothing Oliver could do to stop them. He felt like a fumbling medic during a pandemic. Too many areas were affected before he could arrive, and too many loose ends were tied before he could gather enough information to know what they were trying to accomplish.
He contacted the Justice League when it became clear that it was too much for his team to handle. They sent over Dinah Lace and Gregory Sanders (Much to the joy of his bi-heart), who helped him trace the pathway the ninjas were taking, but ultimately, they were unable to catch up.
"It's like chasing ghosts," Gregory complains, his red bandana moving with his mouth. His eyes are scanning the towering buildings, fiddling with his guns. "I see them for only a second, and they are much faster than any of my bullets."
"It doesn't help that one of them is a meta with a similar power to mine," Dinah agrees. She was the closest to the taller figure, attempting to use her Canary Cry to capture him. Imagine her surprise when the figure turned and returned a cry of its own, easily overpowering Dinah's and flinging her away. "We might need a Speedster"
"And a Bat," Olver sighs. "They're far too slippery. A Bat should be able to devise a plan that might work for them. My tactical strategies are falling short."
"How painful was that for you to admit?" Dinah asks with a smirk.
"I'm choking on my blood," He deadpans, causing her to laugh. At once, Olover's heart launches in his chest. She has the loveliest laugh. He throws her a smile that he knows is disgustingly gooey, and her eyes crinkle with the gentleness she reserves for him.
"I overheard them speaking for a bit before one of them heard my guns click," Gregory says, eyeing the two of them like he knows they are flirting but won't point it out. He's a spoilsport. "One of them identified the other. Does the name Talia mean anything to ya'll?"
Crude. Whatever good mood Olvier was in for making Dinah smile is crushed with sudden dread.
"Yeah, it does. Especially if it was anywhere near the words "Demon Head" or "Great One," He wearily. At Gregory's nod, he covers his eyes with one hand, feeling a headache build behind his right eye. It's a familiar headache. It usually pops up whenever Bruce Wayne's love life is mentioned.
"I'll call the Big Bad Bat. He'll get her to stop or kiss her. Whatever works. " Oliver sighs, even heavier than before.
"Why?" Gregory asks mystified
"That's Bat's ex."
There is a very long pause before Gregory's guns click again. A rigid set to his shoulders and rage appear in his eyes. "The young girl is Batman's ex? Good to know."
"Young girl? No, Talia is about my age." Dinah cuts in. "Are you sure she answered to Talia?"
The safety is switched back on as Gregory relaxes."Yes. She appeared to be twelve years old or so, with white hair and green eyes. Does that match Batman's honey?"
"Not even close. I mean, the green eyes, sure, but the rest is wrong." Oliver hums. "So we aren't dealing with Bat's girl, which is good for us. The League of Assassins is a pain. Also very dangerous."
Vigilante's eyes widen at the mention of the ninja group's name. "I heard of the organization but was unaware of the members. Is this Talia important in it?"
"She's the big boss's daughter," Dinah confirms. "Also, one of the bloodthirsty and cruelest members."
"That's not very nice," a young voice cuts in, startling the heroes. They leap away from the roof edge, watching a boy with glowing white hair flout over it, crossed-armed. "My daughter is a goddam delight."
"Ra's," Olver shutters. Yes, he looks younger and glowing, but Oliver would never forget that monster's face. He appeared often in his nightmares about the island.
The boy tilted his head. "You know me."
Oliver pulled the string of his bow, training the arrow on the figure; beside him, Gregory had his guns up and ready while Dinah had planted her feet in her preferred combat position. "I never forget a face."
"There is a version of me here," the boy hums, implying so many things that make the three heroes uneasy. "Maybe I wasted time gathering resources when I should have gone looking for the other Fentons."
"What do you mean by that?" Dinah demands, but the boy is already looking away and snapping his fingers.
"Guys! There are other Fentons here!"
Five figures fly up from over a building. Two are glowing, and three are wearing bulky power suits. Oliver's breath catches in his throat. Younger versions of the Demons. The same assisans whose abilities build Ra's empire and are the only ones to control them- the reason he is known as the Demon Head.
"That's great, Danny!" A girl with orange hair cries. She's inside the power suit, and Oliver knows her by her codename. Claw.
"Maybe we can have your dad make us some fudge." A dark-skinned boy licks his lips. He also appropriates a power suit but seems far more decked out for support. Makes sense, seeing as he obviously Scales.
"Let's go. The faster we get home, the faster I can make Vlad by me an island." A glowing teen rolls his eyes. His flaming hair does nothing to take away the fact he is Fang.
"Which way?" the little girl, Talia, asks, making a small circle in the air.
"I saw we find destruction and follow that. It's bound to lead us to them. We can cause chaos on the way." The last girl offers. She points the hand of her supersuit to the west with a nasty grin. It's Shadow. "Can't be worse than the Black Plague incident."
"How was I supposed to know the rats were dangerous!" Ra scoffs, face red in embarrassment. Which would have been amusing if he didn't just admit he caused thousands of lives to end. Oliver really does not like the implications one bit.
"Everyone. Don't you read any history books?"
"I don't need no books to tell me. I was there!"
Oliver thinks they are distracted enough to risk taking a shot. His bowstring snaps into place as his arrow flies towards the closest one. Claw's reaction time is as fast as he remembers because she had already shot the arrow out of the sky before it could go anywhere near Talia. The foam meant to hold her in place burst, covering the six from view.
Gegory's bullets hit it seconds after, burying deep within the hardened foam. The sharpshooter springs to the right, looking for a better target, but it's in vain.
When the foam falls, everyone behind it is gone, and Oliver is reminded that they face ninjas. Gregory lowers his weapon with a frustrated click of his tongue.
What in the world was going on! They were all de-age and somehow powered up. None of this was good.
"We need to call Batman," Dinah says in the silence. "This may be out of our league even with them turned into children."
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joonie-beanie · 1 day
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A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]
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Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"
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Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.
The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.
Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.
And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.
The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.
“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”
Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 
Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.
Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.
The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.
“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.
Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 
When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.
He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.
“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”
“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 
Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.
“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”
“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.
“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”
You cock an eyebrow at him.
“What kind of change?”
Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.
Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.
“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”
Huh?
“Here.”
Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.
Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.
“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.
Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.
“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”
You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.
“...did he consent to this?”
Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.
“Not yet, but he will.”
The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.
“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”
“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.
“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.
“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”
Wriothesley sighs.
“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”
You grin, holding your head high.
Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.
“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”
You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.
“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”
Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 
Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.
“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.
Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.
Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 
“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.
“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”
She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.
“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”
“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 
“Take this when you go in, that should help.”
“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.
You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.
Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.
Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment. 
Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.
Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?
“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”
Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.
“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”
“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”
Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.
“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”
For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.
Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.
“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 
“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.
Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.
“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”
“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”
Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…
“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”
“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”
Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.
“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”
Alright then, time to break out the big guns.
“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”
The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.
“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”
Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.
“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”
Both men look your way. You smile.
“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”
Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.
“Good! Glad that’s settled.”
With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.
“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.
You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.
…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.
“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.
Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…
“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”
Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.
“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”
“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.
“Now, what can I assist you with?”
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While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.
He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 
Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.
While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.
By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.
“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”
“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.
So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.
Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.
“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”
“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”
“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”
How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?
Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.
Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.
“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”
“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”
You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—
“I'll have to keep that in mind.”
—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.
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In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.
It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).
However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.
When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.
“You may go home for the day.”
You blink, looking around for the time.
“...will you continue working?”
“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”
You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.
“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.
“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”
“9am will be fine.”
“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”
“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.
His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.
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The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.
“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”
And really, who would pass up that offer?
So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.
Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.
“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”
“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 
“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.
“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”
He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.
“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 
“Nonetheless, thank you.”
With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.
You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.
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As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 
From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.
And he seems to be…for the most part.
Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.
Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.
You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).
By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.
Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 
He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.
However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.
“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 
“Is it possible that you’re sick?”
Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.
“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.
After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.
A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.
…huh.
Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.
He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.
You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.
Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.
You jump to your feet.
“Neuvillette—?!”
“Leave.”
There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.
“What—”
You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.
“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.
Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?
Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.
“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.
“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”
Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.
Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.
“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.
He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.
Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…
A scent that he wants to chase after.
He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.
Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.
As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.
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On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 
You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.
It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.
So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.
You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.
As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.
In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.
Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.
You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…
You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…
Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.
Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 
So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.
A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.
In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.
“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.
Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.
Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.
And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.
A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 
You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.
Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.
Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 
“I told you not to return here.”
The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.
He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening. 
You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.
“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 
“I sent you away for a reason.”
His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 
His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 
However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.
The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.
“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.
“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.
You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.
“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”
“Me,” he responds.
His words send electricity up your spine.
“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.
“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”
He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.
“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”
A rut.
The word hits you like a train.
“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”
He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…
At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.
His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.
Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.
“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”
The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.
“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.
“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”
Run.
Run.
Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 
His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.
All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.
You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 
Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.
But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 
In fact, it will probably be painful.
Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.
You’re scared, but—
Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 
You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.
Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.
“Why didn’t you leave, you—”
His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.
He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.
“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.
Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.
“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 
The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.
“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 
“This is wrong of me…”
The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.
A quiet laugh leaves you.
“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”
Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.
And, of course, it does.
He takes a deep breath—
“Thank you—”
—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.
The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.
The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.
He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.
His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.
Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 
Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.
However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.
He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.
He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.
He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—
Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.
You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.
Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.
In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.
The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.
He pries your legs apart. 
You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.
His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.
As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.
His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.
But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.
No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.
The first taste of his meal.
You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.
He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.
And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.
His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.
…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.
You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.
“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.
You've never felt anything akin to this before.
“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.
His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 
He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.
Then, his tongue starts to move.
He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.
He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.
He can't stop. 
He bullies your g-spot incessantly.
You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 
You can't control yourself.
The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…
“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”
Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.
Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 
Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.
And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 
The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.
The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.
“Neuvillette, you're—”
“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 
“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.
Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 
Finally, you're bare beneath him. 
He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.
Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.
“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”
And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 
The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 
Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 
He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.
Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 
You trust that he won't hurt you.
“Ah—!” 
He slips a second finger inside of you.
Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.
It's all so much. 
“Neuvillette—”
You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 
Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.
He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—
Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.
Instantly, you lose it.
A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—
“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”
“Cum.” 
He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.
“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.
You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.
Then, he finally relents.
Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 
Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…
You’re ready.
Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.
You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.
Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.
Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.
Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is. 
He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—
Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.
…oh.
You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…
Speaking of—
“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.
“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 
He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.
Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 
It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.
As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.
“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 
Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.
Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.
Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.
“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 
“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 
Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.
Drunk with desire, he actually growls.
“I—”
I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—
“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 
His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.
“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”
His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.
Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.
“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”
Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.
Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 
Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.
You’ve never felt so full.
Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 
…then, he begins to move his hips.
You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 
The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.
The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.
Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.
The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 
Ah…you’re going insane.
A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 
“Ahh…”
The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.
Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.
Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.
And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.
He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 
Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 
You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 
He’s getting close.
And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.
Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.
Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.
“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 
“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.
It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.
With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.
His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.
For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 
You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.
“You did so well,” he tells you. 
Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 
The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.
“I take it you feel a bit better now?”
“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 
“However…”
He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 
With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.
“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”
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When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.
Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 
He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.
Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)
As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.
Pushing the door open, he heads inside.
“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 
The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.
“Come in.”
“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.
Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.
“Y/N?”
Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.
“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 
It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 
Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 
He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.
Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.
The office sits in silence for a moment. 
“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”
Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.
“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”
His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.
“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”
“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.
“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”
“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.
Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.
Both men smile.
“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”
“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”
“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.
“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”
Wriothesley hums.
“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”
Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”
“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.
“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”
Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 
Understanding passes between them.
“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”
Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.
“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”
Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.
“I shall hope for the same.”
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ithebookhoarder · 2 days
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Could you write an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic? They are newly weds and the reader wishes to pamper Anthony while he is bathing. He’s a bit cautious about it at first because he is not used to such affection. Thank youu I love your writing a lot especially the truth or dare fic.
In Your Hands (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
A/N: First of all, thank you so much! And I hope you like this. Thanks for sending this ask in, luckily I was already toying with a few Bridgerton ideas thanks to the new trailers so this came surprisingly easy.
Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then consider buying me a cup of coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️
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Warnings: Nudity references, the start of sexy-times, alcohol 
Masterlist
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Anthony was someone who hated routine. After all, as much as he was devoted to the day to day duties that came with being the head of his family, if he had his way he would escape the city and the ton, choosing instead the peace and tranquility offered by the countryside, at Aubrey Hall. He dreamed of being able to be just a brother, son and - as of recently - a husband. 
Only married a few months, your new husband was keen to seize each and every opportunity to escape his duties when they appeared - whether it was sneaking off for long rides in the countryside, or making an early exit from whatever social gathering you both had been forced to attend as the new Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton; Whatever allowed you both to be alone and back in one another’s arms (usually sans clothes) as soon as possible, was a good idea to him. 
It was no surprise then, that there was one part of his daily routine that Anthony actually relished: bathing. 
Oh, yes. There was little more in the world that could bring your fully-grown husband such child-like joy as being able to soak in a tub of steaming hot water for an hour or two. The sight always made you smile as you entered your bedroom: Anthony, half asleep, looking as if the stress had physically melted away. 
It was your favourite sight - and not just because of the exquisite view it granted you of his sculpted form - but because of how calm and peaceful he looked. It was as if he had transformed back into the mischievous and carefree boy you’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Back when your only concerns had been not tripping on your skirt at your presentation, making sure you were actually asked to dance at a ball, and surviving the social season without embarrassing your family or getting yourself roped into some scandal. 
Whilst you knew neither you nor Anthony would ever change a single thing about your life together, you knew it came with a cost. In fact, today it had been enduring hours of talks with local tenants, the family’s book keeper, estate managers, and even several possible suitors looking to secure some kind of marriage contract with one of his younger sisters. (You’d been informed by several members of the household staff that those meetings had been remarkably swift, however, with each unfortunate man looking rather dejected as they were shown from the house). 
If you’d been able to spare him the pain or share his burden you would have, but unfortunately you’d been occupied with matters of your own. Being the lady of such a grand estate came with duties of its own, and you were quite done looking over seating arrangements, replying to correspondence, and paying social calls for one day.  
Still, at least you’d both survived to tell the tale - no wonder Anthony looked half asleep. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the open bottle of whiskey that sat on the table beside the tub. You knew without looking at the label which bottle it was, having smuggled it out of the library yourself to enjoy together. 
“Anthony Bridgerton!” A fake gasp of horror escaped your lips as you appeared in the doorway, a hand pressed to your chest. “You are a sneak and a traitor. That whiskey was for me too, you know.”
“And a good evening to you too, my love. Never fear, there’s plenty to share,” he teased, head relaxed, tipped backward as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. Your eyes were transfixed on the hollow of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Besides, I would apologise but I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. Not when I couldn’t feel my back from sitting at that desk all afternoon.”
The moan that escaped his lips was almost sinful as he sank a little lower in the water.  
“Well, you’re forgiven. You look far too content for me to even dream of being mad,” you sighed, drawing close and perching on the rim of the tub. Anthony handed over the whiskey glass with a soft smile, letting you take a sip of your own before you placed it back onto the table. 
You could feel the warmth seep into your bones immediately, even if that was also likely in part to your proximity to the tub and your naked husband. 
“Do you want me to wash your hair?”
Anthony’s eyebrows rose at the question, the surprise written across his face. “What?”
“You heard me,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands of hair atop his head. “I can wash your hair, and get your back for you. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, or I can ring for someone?”
“What? No, that’s uh, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, visibly flustered - which was amusing and perplexing. After all, it wasn’t as if you two hadn’t seen and touched every single inch of the other in the weeks since your wedding. However, he looked almost confused at the idea that you would offer such a thing. “You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you, for once. Husband.”
It was probably below the belt to purr his title like that, but you knew how that one little word had the power to reduce the great Viscount Bridgerton to a puddle. That, along with the warmth of the water and the buzz of the whiskey, made him almost pliant to your every whim. Still, you knew him well enough to recognise the lingering hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 
He very rarely let his guard down or allowed anyone to assist him in any way. You sometimes believed that had the servants not been dependant upon their work to make a living that Anthony would have dismissed them long ago and tried to run the entire estate single handedly just to prove he could. That he was worthy of the title he bore, and that he was every bit as great a man, brother, and husband as his father. 
It appeared he was the same way when it came to letting himself be taken care of and it made your heart ache for the man you loved. 
Pressing a triumphant kiss to his lips, you swiftly manoeuvred yourself, pulling up a stool and grabbing a jug from the dresser.  
“Just relax… trust me,” you murmured, waiting until he did as he was bid. The gesture alone said volumes, more so than any words ever could. 
Waiting until his eyes were shut, you reached for the soap, tilting his head against your chest as you began to massage the mixture into his scalp. Yet again, your husband seemed to transform into a cat, purring with every touch in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to resist the urge to strip off and join your husband in the water instead. 
“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled as Anthony barely managed more than a groan in reply. 
It was taking every ounce of your self control to focus your attentions solely on Anthony, and not on the way his body seemed to be reacting to your ministrations. Thankfully, you were able to last long enough to finish the job, using the jug to rinse the water through his hair, making sure to angle his head upwards so the water ran off him instead of into his eyes. 
But you were only human; the minute you were done washing the last suds from his scalp you made your move. Sliding off the stool, you knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek, causing him to open his eyes almost sleepily. Leaning forward you planted a soft, delicate kiss to his lips, causing him to groan in response.
Without saying a word, his hands rose, twisting their way into your hair as he deepened his kiss. It was clear what he wanted next. 
“Now, wife,” he growled, pulling back just long enough to reach down and tug teasingly at the tie of your dress-robe. You could feel the warmth of his touch as his wet body began to dampen the material. “I think it’s your turn to let me take care of you… so you’d better get in here, before I drag you in here.”
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cevansbrat0007 · 3 days
Text
Hello, Duchess
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Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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Ari’s P.O.V.
“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.
‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.
In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 
Well, that couldn’t be right. 
He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 
While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 
Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.
Just in case.
“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”
“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 
“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”
“That means get out!”
“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 
“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”
“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”
While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 
Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.
Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.
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Your P.O.V
“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 
“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 
And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 
“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 
If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 
“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”
Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 
“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”
You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 
“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”
“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 
“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.
Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”
“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  
Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”
You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 
“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 
“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”
“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.
“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 
“As much as I can be.” 
“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”
“Nope.”
He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 
“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”
“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”
And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.
“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 
“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 
“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”
In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?
“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    
Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   
“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”
Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.
“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 
“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 
And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 
“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 
Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.
“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”
Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 
Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 
But not now. 
Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  
Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 
“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 
However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 
“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”
His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 
“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.
“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 
“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”
Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.
END 
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ningvory · 2 days
Text
secret — julie han
CW: noncon/dubcon, g!p julie, julie’s a perv, manipulation, corruption, naïve reader, unnie kink, creampie, mentions of natty in the end, not proofread, this is rushed so apologies in advance! 🙏
word count: 1.3k
anon ask? yes!
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you’ve been a trainee for just over three years by now and you’ve been striving for your dream of becoming an idol for years.
you’ve been transferred to different companies in hopes of being able to debut with a few other girls but it never happened. so you joined S2 just after they debuted their most recent gg, kiss of life in hopes of debuting in their next group or even becoming a soloist. i mean, you’ve got the voice and and you can put on a show so yea, really could.
ever since you switched over to S2, you’ve gotten more sharper with your moves and worked on your dance technique. it was known to the other trainee’s that you were definitely going to debut sooner or later under S2, even you knew yourself. everyone knew you were the favorite trainee to the trainers. you caught everyone’s eye, rather it was your looks or your talent. you even managed to catch a special someone’s eye.
but what you didn’t expect was for the company to just add you in a already established group. especially since they were starting to get ready for their long anticipated comeback. S2 had long thought about adding a new member to the group and they decided that you were the only one that they picked to be the added member to the group. plus, the girls even agreed to it too, especially the eldest of the four, julie.
when it was time to meet, you all actually got along really wel! you were now the middle child in the group, being an 03 liner, you were younger than julie and natty but older than belle and haneul. it’s like you were ment to be in the group the whole time.
song recording went really good, you got plenty of compliments from the producers and composers. saying how great you sounded with just raw vocals and that you should’ve been debuted, making your cheeks hurt from all the cheesing you were doing in the studio.
now it was the time to learn the choreo itself, and let’s just say, they had you damn near breaking your back in a few moves to make it more visually pleasing to the eye. you decided to wear a crop top that barely did anything to cover you up with pink sweats. you didn’t wanna wear something that you’ll get hot in immediately, not thinking that it’ll be a bother to anyone.
but oh julie, all hot and bothered, trying to hide her boner from you all and the choreographer. it was so wrong she kept telling herself, watching how you were practicing the hip move in the chorus section of the song. so wrong and sick of her to just shamelessly stare at your tits and your ass, fantasizing about how your ass would smack against her tummy from her forceful thrusts to your cunt. but she just can’t help herself…you’re just so cute to her, and so…fuckable, how can she not? her daydreaming got too much for her she had to go excuse herself to the bathroom and relieve herself from her painful erection.
for the past few days you all had multiple group practices to make sure everything looked eye catching and synchronized. which of course, it did. but the more dance practices, the more confident you got with your moves, especially the more sexier moves, which did nothing to help julie’s raging boner.
she almost always was daydreaming, making you tap her and ask if everything was alright which seemed to break her out of the dream.
“julie unnie? is everything alright?” you asked her with a soft tone, looking directly in her eyes with doe eyes. fuck. she was caught, and she swears you’re doing it on purpose.
but what was she supposed to say to that? ‘yea i was just fantasizing about you riding me while i play with your tits.’ but she gained composure, “yea! don’t worry about me, got lost in my thoughts,” she gave a small smile, reassuring you as you nod your head and continued practicing. if only you knew you were the only thing on her mind.
since she was the leader, she had to monitor the four of you dancing. making sure there’s no mistakes, you all did amazing but julie payed the most attention to you. not because you were the newest member of the group, but because you were just so mesmerizing. each sway of your hips and bounce of your tits had julie left in a trance that she didn’t want to break out of, she had it bad for you and everyone could tell except for you.
you all lost track of time and it was far time to go. but you still wanted to practice, ignoring the fact your body was exhausted. which julie took for the perfect opportunity.
you wanted you moves to be basically flawless, being the newest member to an already established group meant there was a lot of eyes on you. julie took this opportunity and stayed with you.
“thanks for staying, unnie! you really didn’t have t—,”you went to say but was cut off by julie pushing you to the ground.
“see what you’ve done to unnie, baby? swear you’re doing this shit on purpose.” she groaned, getting ontop on your shocked body, pinning your arms beside your head with a tight grip.
“wh—wha? unnie, get off me!” you shouted a little to loud, making her remove a hand to cover your mouth.
“fuck..don’t cry baby. do this for unnie ‘kay? you’ll be good for unnie, right?” julie shushed you, pulling your sweats and panties down, before undoing her pants and her boxers.
she wasted no more time, plunging into you. head swinging back from the pleasure, biting her lip to conceal her moans.
“u-unnie—stop! d-don’ ‘wan it! please—!” your poor lil cunt s’not use to being filled all the way up! tears begin to fall down your face, trying to push her away and shoving at her with you hands.
“stupid slut, take all i give you—fuck!—you cryin’ f’me to stop but your cunt is suckin’ me all in.” she grunts, bullying her thick cock inside your lil cunt. she’s pounding into you anomalistically, she’s lost her composure to try and hold herself back.
she lifts your tight shirt up and pulls your bra down to play with your tits. she groped and pinched you nipples, making you squeak out. more tears falling down.
“all your damn crying isn’t gonna make me stop, baby.” she stays before moving her hands down to pinch your clit.
“don’t even think about telling the others, they won’t believe you, stupid whore.” she snarks, balls slapping against your ass from the quick pace she’s going.
“shit—g’na cum. and you’re gonna take it all!” her thrusts become sloppy, before she fills your cunt up with her thick spurts of cum.
when you feel her fill you up, you felt your body begin to shake. before letting out a loud whine, cumming aggressively on her cock still inside you!
she slowly pulls out, pressing down on your tummy to see her cum begin to spill out, making you whimper. the tingling sensation of her pulling out of your cum covered cunt has you quivering.
once you got home and took a long shower, you went to tell the second eldest, natty. telling her what your leader did to you but she just laughs in your face. telling you that you shouldn’t have been teasing her. but poor you, natty’s no better than julie! she waits till your sleeping and uses your tired body for her own pleasure! waking you up from your sleep and filling you up with her cock! before telling your sleepy self that you better get used to being their personal fucktoy cuz their gonna use you for their own pleasure, not caring if you cum or not! :((
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wqnwoos · 2 days
Text
it’s well past two in the morning when all your guests have left, and it’s just you and jeonghan and some cardboard boxes.
the two of you are taping the last of his boxes shut, a movie you’ve seen a million times playing on the television, both of you talking and laughing over it. the party has just died down — yours and jeonghan’s farewell party.
he’d said it sounded too dramatic, when you first brought it up. because neither of you were going far. you to your new studio apartment and jeonghan moving in with seungkwan, now that the lease was up and the owner wasn’t planning to renew it. jeonghan had dubbed it the “house-cooling” party instead, the opposite of housewarming — the kind of stupid joke he only makes to you.
still, though, as you sit among the boxes and leftover pizza, you feel kind of — wistful. when you say as much, jeonghan laughs, reaching over to tap under your chin fondly.
“wistful?” he repeats, smiling.
you huff at him. “i’m going to miss you, that’s what i’m saying, you ass.”
“i’m not going far,” he reminds you. “we’re literally within twenty minutes of each other. fifteen on a good day.”
“still!”
“i’ll visit you all the time. i’ll get tired of seungkwan doing karaoke. and then we’ll basically be roommates again, because he doesn’t stop doing karaoke.”
jeonghan’s tone is light and easy, but you can’t help wondering why the two of you aren’t going to be roommates again. why you hadn’t looked for an apartment together. neither of you had brought it up, things just fell this way, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about how jeonghan always moves your washing to the dryer for you and how much you’re going to miss him.
because you really are — not just because of laundry. you guys were roommates before you became actually close, brought together by mutual friends; you’ve never known a jeonghan that wasn’t jeonghan, my roommate, and suddenly it feels a little like losing him. because suddenly you love him, and not in a jeonghan, my roommate way. not in a jeonghan, my friend way either — in a way that puts aches in your chest, has your ribs living up to their name, acting a cage for your heart. you’re not sure how long it’s been, but it’s been long enough.
you’d been clinging to the hope that it would pass; everyone knows you don’t date your roommate. but now — now he’s not your roommate, and it hasn’t passed, and you don’t know whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing anymore.
on one hand: you could tell him. bare it all out, in the open, raw and bloody and unfettered. on the other hand: there are so many things you would rather do than experience rejection. you’d be able to take just being his roommate if you needed to. could’ve held out until it passed.
“maybe we should’ve moved in together again,” you voice, forcing your voice light and airy and casual, playing it like a random off-hand suggestion.
jeonghan’s vehement shake of the head is surprising, and it stings. more than you expected. “no.”
you can quite literally feel your face fall, staring at him without pretence. “what?”
he looks up from the box he’s packing, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his brown eyes. “ask me why,” he instructs softly.
you swallow thickly. it’s hard not to, when he’s looking at you like that — warm and familiar and intense and scary, all at once. your eyes follow the strand of dark hair that falls over his forehead, suddenly realising just how close he is. “why?”
jeonghan sets down the tape, tilting his head to the side, choosing his words slowly, carefully. “because if i ever ask you to move in with me again, it’ll be very different to this. can you pass me the scissors?”
you barely even hear the last part. “different? different how?”
“just… different.” he shrugs, reaching over you for the scissors himself. “you’ll be dating me, for one thing.”
time seems to come to a halt when he says those words, and you barely manage a whisper — “what?”
jeonghan rolls his eyes and pokes your forehead. “i’m trying to say i’m in love with you, dipshit. can you please take a hint?”
you malfunction. it’s late and your brain is already fried enough from finals and he’s staring at you, and this isn’t a dream, this is real.
and so you launch your roll of tape in his direction.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?”
jeonghan doesn’t even need to dodge the tape, but still gapes at you. “what?”
“you can’t— just drop a love confession like a — like a hot potato, and then expect me to catch it!”
“a hot potato?” he repeats, and then he’s biting down on a laugh, shoulders shaking. “did you just call my love confession a fucking hot potato?”
“no! yes, well — ” you flounder, confused in your embarrassment. “oh my god. you’re so mean. i wasn’t ready.”
jeonghan’s still laughing. “if i’d warned you in advance, what would you have answered?”
and now it’s your turn to stare him down: “you didn’t ask anything yet. what am i supposed to answer?”
that only tilts jeonghan’s smile further upward, and he scoots closer, leaning on one arm. you can smell him, soft and fresh and so incredibly near, as he speaks — “you’re smart. i think you can work it out.”
you kiss him first. quick and sweet, over and over. you think it’s probably answer enough.
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also in my head this is the same couple from this drabble but they can be read separately
an / hana comeback era ⁉️ this is just something i wrote super quick but HIII it’s been almost 2 months since i posted some writing 😭 i’m so sorry this awful piece is the first thing u guys get, hopefully will write something better soon!
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura @dokyeomkyeom
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Note
Also, I would like to add that Malleus’s blatant disregard for the autonomy of others and fits of rage is DELIBERATE on his end. Being one of the top five mages in the entire world, I am sure that he KNOWS there is a large disparity between his power/social and the rest of the peers/subordinates etc. His sheer and utter confidence in his abilities to get what he wants and general disregard for others isn’t only an indicator of his awareness about this disparity, but is also a reflection of the abuses of his power AND social status as a whole.
In light of his age, imagine the amount of times he has repeated these mistakes despite others advice and criticisms against his choices. Only Ace has been able to overcome others general reverence and fear towards Malleus when it came to calling him out. He is not an innocent person who is ignorant about the ways of humanity verses faes, and is certainly not the innocent character the fandom (especially those who are infatuated by him) think he is.
[Referencing this post!]
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***Standard disclaimer: In sharing my thoughts, I do not mean to disparage Malleus fans. Furthermore, me disliking him should not detract from your own enjoyment of the character. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this topic (ie critique of Malleus’s character), then I encourage you to scroll on and to not engage with this post.***
My thoughts below the cut!
I do feel that, to some degree, the disregard for others and inappropriate fits of rage come from blatant ignorance (since Malleus did have a very isolated and sheltered upbringing). However, it's also hard for me to believe that in his 178 years of living that he was NOT told countless times by those around him (mostly Lilia and his grandmother, Maleficia) to wield his power and social status more tactfully than how he has. Did he take none of those lessons to heart??? What about the 2-3 years he spent living among the non-fae at NRC? Nothing from then too?? Regarding self-awareness of his strength and social status, Malleus has made it clear on more than one occasion that he stands above others. Right from his first appearance in the main story (in book 2), it's implied he's well aware of his position--so much so that he deliberately hides his identity from Yuu. He also cannot propose to Eliza in Ghost Marriage because he is the crown prince of a nation. Time and time again, Malleus's status is mentioned and it plays into his importance as the sole heir to Briar Valley. He must also know he is powerful, given that he is one of the top 5 strongest mages in the world and can perform incredible feats (like reassembling a stage and walking through Vil's poisonous miasma in book 5) like they're nothing. His grandmother and Lilia tell him the Draconias are powerful and shouldn’t use their magic to harm, but to help those they rule over. Yet he seems to have surprisingly few qualms when turning these powers against people who are only at a fraction of his power (Rook, his dorm mates, everyone in the Scalding Sands trip group, Ortho, etc.) or have no magic at all (remember when he attacked those civilians in Terror is Trending and the other Diasomnia students had to restrain him?). Malleus may be emotional in these moments, but the fact remains that he's making the deliberate, intentional choice to wield his magic in this way. He has the ability to hold himself back (as we see him refrain from fighting Rook in Malleus's PE Uniform vignette, only because he knows Rook is baiting him), but the vast majority of the time he fails to do this. For someone who is acutely aware of his power, you'd think he would... I don't know, keep a better leash on it? And what about his identity? So Malleus is concerned about Sebek insulting Leona (the prince of another country) but he ISN'T concerned about how his own fits of anger poorly reflect on himself, who is the CROWN PRINCE of a country??? Please make that make sense... Why is Malleus so selective 💀
I'm actually quite shocked at how little Malleus's pride and arrogance is pointed out; it's usually Leona who gets those labels even though Malleus is also just as arrogant, prideful, and confident in his own powers. Most of the time, I feel like I see Malleus being called "innocent". Maybe his negative traits on display get overlooked because TWST tries so hard to present Malleus to us as someone we are supposed to like (especially with how often they use his overpoweredness or loneliness is used as a punchline for jokes). Our interactions with Malleus are also so few and so short, particularly early in the main story, that fan project their own ideas about what he's like onto him and that forms a certain “image” of him that may not be the same as how he actually is. Him being lonely makes it easy for fans to perceive him as desperate for company and even easier for fans insert themselves as his “special” friend or S/O to fill the void.
It's... quite ironic, really? Malleus says in Riddle's Suitor Suit vignettes that he is familiar with the concept of "noblesse oblige", which is the implied duty of the privileged and nobility to act gracefully towards those less privileged. Yet... he is sometimes overstepping "fae playfulness" or "teenage childishness/immaturity" and continuously creating situations which put people around him in danger (all of Endless Halloween Night, not holding back his attacks against the Magicam Monsters, all the times he let his temper get out of control, book 7 OB, etc.) When defending the extremes he took in book 7 by citing his status and his UM, Malleus has this to say, which is very telling of his lucidity: "Monitoring? Meddling? Heh, how silly. It's a king's duty to govern, is it not? I'm watching over you. To ensure no nightmares befall you in the fairy tales you now reside in... To ensure you have happy dreams that last forever!" It's implied that Malleus's grandma has told him since childhood that their line has powerful magic to protect their people's smiles--and here he is, overextending those words to people that aren't even his subjects, and twisting the meaning to justify his own brutal rule.
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What I noticed is... Malleus is often so oriented on seeing the situation from his POV that he fails to consider those from any entity aside from himself. In Endless Halloween Night, he feels sorry for the ghosts who showed up late and were left out of the festivities because he can relate to them, so therefore he wants to make sure they are included. In book 7, Malleus fears his loved ones leaving and projects this fear onto everyone else so he feels right in being the one coming in to be their "hero" and grant them happy endings they never asked for. In his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, Malleus frames the circumstances as, "I wouldn't be mad if you did the same thing to me" instead of listening to his peers' complaints. He centers problems around himself (which admittedly is very frustrating to me), and this is how Malleus tries to understand and navigate the world. This gives me the impression that he has a very particular way of thinking and it's perhaps difficult for him to understand others, even with extensive pointers.
I truly believe Malleus is ignorant about humans and fae. That much matches up with what we know of his history. What I do NOT get is why he continues to remain ignorant when 1) he has spent a few years exposed to non-fae and their ways; even if this pales in comparison to the 175ish other years of his life, he should have some new basis for appropriate social interactions with other races, and 2) most of the major adult figures in his life are exposing to him he should consider others' perspectives and try to learn more about that which he is unfamiliar with. Malleus has so many opportunities to expand his horizons and get to know new people, but he seems to sit around and keep waiting for others take the initiative for him. But he could initiate too, so why doesn't he???? (He has shown he is capable of it, as he approaches Deuce to fix his virtual pet and chatting with Idia about the same pet in the main story; if not by himself, then Lilia can easily assist or invite him into activities such as the Silk City trip.) Even if Malleus fails to socialize in a way that's considered appropriate, at least that's something he can learn from and correct for next time... But why doesn’t he????????? If he did, it would sure help out with his inability to empathize with his peers and could even curb his temper (which would be seen as socially inappropriate). So why exactly does he seem to know so little and make so little effort to try and rectify this???? Why does he keep postulating that his word is above everyone else’s and then get upset when people don’t like him for this very alienating attitude? Aaaaah, it's a sad cycle to witness him devolve into again and again... 😭
P. S. Bless Ace for being the one character who still held it against Malleus for the fucked up “prank” he pulled in Endless Halloween Night (and then convincing everyone the misunderstanding was their faults for “attacking the ghosts first”).
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First Date, Huh?
Summary: The human race is at danger of extinction. The government had come up with a plan to increase the level of population throughout the country that involved you and a very good looking man.
Warning: unprotected sex. oral (both receiving). creampie. slight degradation. overstimulation. male and female anatomy. afab reader. impregnating. breeding kink (kinda?) aftercare. mentions of medical procedures (I forgot what it was called lol). not proofread. wrote this right after my dream sooo…
Word Count: 5,155
A/N: I had a dream about this and I woke up thinking I was pregnant😭 (be safe out there y’all) anyways, I picked up far cry 5 again and I’m literally eating that game up
“Falling for a stranger, good gracious. I might even fly out to Vegas. I’m thinking maybe you’d be down to do it,” Love Talk (demo), WayV
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The world population had been declining after the rise of a deadly disease. People died in groups and the government had tried to prevent the spread.
But their attempts were in vain.
Decades after the virus had finally been tamed. The world had been left with only one third of its population remaining. The economies across the countries crashed and people had to rebuild themselves slowly.
However, that all came to a halt when the government suddenly introduced a new bill.
They had planned for a procreating program. In which scientists were able to develop a new technology wavelength that can determine what person is more biologically compatible with another person.
The government had ordered people to come to the nearest available clinics in order for the scientists to collect a sample of their blood. Of your blood.
Months passed after the collection of blood and suddenly a group of soldiers, along with scientists, stormed inside the houses of people and marked them with bracelet bands.
The soldiers sedated everyone and transported them to an underground warehouse. The warehouse itself was an underground bunker with scientists roaming around in their lab coats.
The underground facility was huge- it could be considered an underground city if the president decided to. But he didn’t.
When you woke up, you noticed you were inside a room with white walls. The floor and ceiling were white. Even the lights were white. Everything was white, except for the red bed you were currently in.
They had laid you down on a bed full of pillows and blankets. Your eyes blurred as they adjusted to the lights of the room.
Sitting up, you’ve noticed- and probably felt- the presence of someone laying down next to you. You looked over at the person and noticed it was a man.
He was waking up as well. He had dirty blonde hair and looked to be tall and broad. His features were rough and masculine, with his stubble being noticeable under the harsh lighting. As you sat up, he slowly sat up as well and took in the environment. When both of you laid eyes on each other, you both let out a gasp and quickly got off the bed.
You quickly realized what either of you were wearing. They had changed you into a skimpy satin nightgown while he was wearing a silk pajama set that revealed his chest due to the V-line cut.
The intercom from the room turned on and a person spoke,
“Good morning to you two. I’m sure you’re both confused and scared but afraid be not. We’re ensuring your safety at this establishment. As you both can see, you’re both wearing the same color of wristbands.”
You looked down at your right wrist and saw the green wristband, your eyes trailed towards the man and his was also green.
“This means that both of you are biologically compatible. Our goal here is to not hurt you. We’re simply trying to bring back the population back to where it should be and we need your help.”
Your eyes widened and so did his. The man’s eyebrows pinched together as look of suspicion and anger appeared on his face. But he didn’t say anything.
“I’m sure you both know what this means. You have the remainder of the day to get started. We expect positive results since we’ve run extensive research on your genetics. That is all, get started.”
Essentially, they wanted you to have sex with a stranger. That’s revolting.
You turned your gaze back to the man, his blue eyes stood out from his features. Neither of you said anything. It was all too…awkward. You glanced at the bed and then back at him. How do you even start something so intimate?
“Um-“ you started quietly, “So…we’re compatible.”
The man simply stared at you and then back at his wrist. He nodded, “Yeah. Seems so.”
“Should I-“
“We don’t have to do anything,” he interrupted you, “What’re they going to do if we do nothing? They can’t kill us. Those mad scientists need as many people as possible and if they killed you or me then what’s the whole point of this?”
You sighed and nodded. He was right in a way. Even if you disobeyed they couldn’t kill you, right?
Sitting at the edge of the bed, you begin to wonder everything that has happened so far. They’re making everyone breeding machines- is what you thought.
Before all of this, you were living your life the way you wanted it. And now you were forced to have a baby with someone you don’t know. All for the sake of humanity.
It was cruel.
“What do we do instead?” You asked quietly.
“Find a way out of here,” he responded as he walked around the room and tried to find an exit. There was no door. No windows. Nothing. As if you two were put in a white box.
He was getting frustrated that he had been put in this position. He didn’t want any of this, not with you. It wasn’t personal but he didn’t know you.
“There’s no way out,” he spoke after some time. It didn’t take a genius to know that you two were locked in this space.
“Do they really want us to…” your voice trailed off as you stared at him. He looked back at you and shrugged, “Maybe. Those crazy bastards are probably stressing about the human race dying or whatever.”
After a moment of silence, you could smell something. Something that smelled good.
“Is that you?” He asked. He also smelled something.
“I was just about to ask if it was you too,” you replied.
He furrowed his brows and sat next to you. He leaned closer to your neck and inhaled softly.
“It’s the both of us,” he whispered. You stared into his eyes at the proximity.
What was happening?
Did the scientists do something? Why did he suddenly look more attractive and smelled enticing?
You leaned back and got up from the bed. Panic started to run through your veins. “Do you think-“
He raised a brow and sat in the edge of the bed as he watched you pace around the room. You hadn’t noticed but he was secretly checking you out in that nightgown. He felt shame and quickly looked away- this wasn’t him.
“Do you think they put something on us?” You asked, your tone laced with anxiety.
The man sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair, “I don’t know. But they sure know what they’re doing.”
“We should just get on with it. They won’t let us out anytime soon. But maybe they will once we had sex, right?” You asked with a rushed tone. Thoughts occupied your mind and all you wanted to do was get out of this sick and twisted place.
He looked at you with a worried expression, “Are you sure? I mean, we don’t even know each other’s names and-“
“Y/n. My name is y/n,” you interrupted him.
The man raised his brows in surprise and let out an airy chuckle, “Well okay. Name’s Leon.”
He extended his hand out for a handshake and you hesitantly took it. His hands were rough and calloused. Almost made you wonder how they’d feel inside your wet and tight-
What.
You quickly withdrew your hand and looked away. What was going on with you?
“You really want to do this?” He asked softly. You looked at him and swallowed hard. Did you? Or was it whatever the scientists gave you that spoke for you? Either way, you still wanted to get out of this place.
“If fucking you is the only way that could get us out of here then so be it,” you muttered and walked back to the bed.
You sat next to him, shoulders touching.
“Okay then…” he replied quietly, “Guess this is our first date, huh?” He joked.
You looked at him with furrowed brows, how did he have the spirits to joke times like these? Men.
You sat down next to him on the bed, staring at him. He stared right back at you and his gaze fell to your lips. He then leaned in to whisper in your ear, "Can I?”
He put his hand on your cheek as his other hand landed on your thigh. You silently nodded and closed your eyes as he leaned closer to your face.
His breath fanned your lips and all you could do was close your eyes as he finally put his lips on your lips.
The hand on your cheek traveled to the back of your head as he pulled you closer, your hands traveled to his shoulders as you deepened the kiss.
It was a slow, passionate kiss- albeit the current circumstances.
His tongue grazed your bottom lip and you parted your lips just enough for his tongue to delve inside your mouth, exploring every crevice.
The hand on your thigh went higher up to the hem of your nightgown, squeezing the skin gently in between his finger. You moaned into his mouth as he gently hit your bottom lip.
You’ve already started to feel aroused and wet, even though there was a lingering thought in the back of your head telling you that this is wrong.
He leaned closer to you, pushing you down gently until your back finally touches the bed. Leon’s hands moved around your body as he kissed you, his knee right in between your legs causing you to moan quietly.
He smirked at your reaction and moved his lips down to your neck as he pressed his knee into your wet cunt. You couldn’t help but grind on his knee as he sucked your neck. Leaving bruises and hickeys for you to worry about tomorrow.
Your hands wrapped around his biceps as his hands held your waist and squeezed just a tad bit.
He slowly brought his lips down to your collarbone before one of his hands pulled the straps of your nightgown down. Causing the dress to slip down to your waist, revealing your breasts to him.
He pulled back and stared at your hardened nipples with a slight smirk. His fingers hovered over them as he kept teasing you. Then he leaned down to suck the right one, as his hand began to roll your nipple in between his fingers. Your back arched against him and that only caused him to groan at the bliss of sucking your tit.
Your legs squeezed around his as he rubbed it slightly against your covered cunt. He could feel the wetness seeping through the fabric of your panties and that only turned him on even more.
His erection, confined against his clothes, rubbed along your stomach. You could almost feel it twitch as you felt it. Almost.
He pulled back from your right breast and moved on to the second one. His teeth grazed at your nipple as his hand gripped the previously sucked one.
And all you could do was moan and squirm under him.
He moved his lips down from your breasts to your stomach before ripping your nightgown apart and throwing it down on the white floor. Leaving you in your panties.
His lips trailed kisses until he met the waistband of your panties. His fingers ran down your thighs as he slowly parted them, lowering himself until he felt his knees touch the floor. His head was right in between your legs and he stared at the wet spot on the slit of your panties.
He brought a finger and stroked the slit from top to bottom, he made sure to apply just enough pressure for you to not only feel how wet you were but also to feel the way his fingers wanted to prod inside.
You closed your eyes tightly shut as your toes curled. This was all too much and he hasn’t even started. He chuckled lowly, seeing how you were reacting made his pride increase just a little.
He firmly pressed your thighs down on the bed as he brought his face back to the waistband and began to pull your panties down with his teeth. Once they had reached your thighs, he pulled them off with his hands and let them fall on the floor.
You were shining and glistening. His mouth watered and all he wanted to do was dive in. And so he did.
Almost immediately he struck his tongue into your wet hole, licking around as he savored you. He moaned as he tasted you, he’d never tasted something like you and he wanted more.
His thumb circled around your clit, his speed shifting from fast to slow as he watched how much that affected you. He dragged his tongue all the way up and down, sucking your wall and letting them feel just how spongy they are. He then pulled back and moved his thumb away from your clit- which caused to whine in protest.
He gave you a look, one that made you more wet. His eyes piercing yours as he thrusted one finger inside you. He let his index finger stay there for about ten seconds before he actually began to move it. He curled it around as he experimented with what way got you most closest to your orgasm.
His finger curled inside you as he kissed your clit. Sucking it and gently pulling it with his teeth. He took out his finger and then thrusted two fingers inside, causing your mouth to gaze open and let your head roll back against the mattress. He scissored you- fucked you with his fingers.
Pulling out and thrusting all the way back in. His callouses rubbed against your walls, bringing new sensations that you never thought you’d ever experience.
One his index finger hit the spot that made you moan a little too loud, he knew he’d found it. He curled his fingers even more rapidly as he rubbed that spot inside you. Brushing the pad of his middle finger against it, igniting something within you. Your body felt warm and sweaty.
You were coming undone by a complete stranger that is allegedly compatible with you. Your hands traveled to the top of his head and pulled his face closer to your hide. His nose bumped against your slit, his chin hitting fingers. But he didn’t mind, he knew you were close and he wanted you to cum on his face.
He licked your clit as you grinded against his face, your breaths became short and your grip tightened. With a gasped moan, you came on Leon’s face. Your cum spilling down his fingers and chin. He pulled out his fingers and licked as much as he could, swallowing the grace that came out of you.
Once he finished licking you clean, he pulled back and stared at you with dilated pupils. The black consuming all of the blue as he stared at you like a hunter. He got up from the floor and stared down at you as he became mesmerized with your body.
He pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his broad and muscled chest. He then pulled down on his pants, revealing the bulge in his underwear. Pre-cum leaking through the fabric.
You almost drooled and quickly sat up. Crawling your way to him, you sat on your knees as he caressed your head, encouraging you to do whatever you wanted with his dick.
Your hands cupped his bulge and he instantly inhaled sharply. He shuddered at your touch and so you slowly pulled the waistband of his underwear down, watching in awe as his cock sprung free.
The pink tip leaking ore-cum as aforementioned was a sight to behold. Your hand wrapped around his base as you brought your lips over to the head. Kissing it softly as your hand stroked up and down his shaft. He closed his eyes and gripped on your hair, strands meddling in between his fingers.
Your tongue dragged all the down to the bottom, to his ballsack. He shuddered and bucked his hips against your face, smearing pre-cum along your cheek. You parted your lips and slowly took him inside your mouth.
Your hands found his balls and you slowly massaged them, causing him to groan and moan loudly as his grip tightened.
As his dick was inside your mouth, your tongue flicked down the frenulum- just the underside of the tip where the head and the base join. He gasped softly and moaned as he felt you flick your tongue on his sweet spot.
Your tongue slowly moved down from his frenulum to his base, tongue slurping and swirling around as you took him deeper and deeper into your throat. Not deep enough that you’d start gagging because that would probably not feel good.
Instead, you took one of your hands and resumed stroking the remaining parts of his base as you sucked on on the part that fit in your mouth.
Leon was a complete mess; moaning and whimpering as you took him in your mouth. His feet flat on the floor as he looked down at you with pure list and desire. Your eyes met his and he only felt even more turned on.
His cock started to twitch in your mouth and you knew he was about to cum. You continued to stroke his balls and base as your tongue worked its magic on his head and frenulum.
With a loud groan, he gripped your head and forced his entire cock inside your mouth and shot his cum down your throat. Tears pricked at your eyes as you moaned softly as the sensation of his juices spilling down your esophagus. It was warm, you thought.
He pulled back breathlessly and watched as you swallowed his cum. Once he pulled back, some of his cum smeared on your lips and he watched as you licked it back in your mouth. The sight turned him on again and his cock got hard.
Leon got on the bed and slowly pushed you down again. He took hold of your thighs and brought them up to your chest, “Hold,” he demanded in a sultry and low voice.
Your hands wrapped around the back of your thighs as you held them pressed up against your breasts. He aligned his cock to your entrance and slowly pushed in.
“Fuck- so tight,” he muttered as he gasped for air. You rolled your head back and whimpered as he pushed himself all the way through. His pelvic bone making contact with your bone as he slowly began to thrust- not fully out though.
He rolled his hips in a way that wouldn’t allow his cock to leave you completely just yet. He was going slow and gentle, making sure you’ve adjusted first before he picked up the pace.
Once he saw your reaction- face scrunched up in delight as you moaned quietly and breathlessly. He pulled out and then pushed back in with force.
Leon couldn’t control himself anymore. His hands pushed your knees even more down against the mattress, your hamstrings flexing as he pushed this position even more further.
Your breathing increased- chest heaving up and down. His ballsack slapping against your asshole, causing your wetness to spread throughout your both bodies. His tip gently brushed up against your cervix as he plunged in. One of his hands went down to your clit and began to circle it.
You writhed and moaned even more as he simultaneously triggered your two sweet spots. It was all so overwhelming and your mind went blank.
He was fucking you dumb and you loved it. Your jaw went slack, drool coming out from the ends of your lips. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you still held on to your thighs.
He left go of your knees and gripped your hips, the sound of wet skin smacking echoing through the room.
“Gonna cum,” he muttered. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I’m gonna breed you…fuck- gonna be a good girl f’me right?” He grunted as he kept pounding into you.
His knuckles were turning white from how hard he gripped the fat skin of your hips, as if he was holding on for dear life. You nodded, “Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly.
He grunted some more against your ear and that only caused you to grow closer to your second orgasm. This man was so vocal but it was hot.
“Ngh- fuck,” he moaned as he shot his cum deep into your cunt. Cum spirting into your womb, making sure you took everything without spilling it.
He pulled put and motioned for you to roll over. You obliged and rolled over until you laid down on your stomach. He took hold of your hips once again, raising your ass to his level as he thrusted his cock inside you from behind.
Your face planted against one of the pillow and your hands gripped the bedsheets as your moans came out muffled. Somehow, he hit deeper in this position. His hands went from your hips to your waist and he squeezed it gently.
As he continued to pound into you, your ass cheeks juggling from the force of motion, he took your hair in one hand and pulled your head up. Your eyes were closed as you moaned. This was all so much but you needed more. Completely drunk on his cock is what you were.
He leaned down as he pulled on your hair, “Like it when I fuck you like this, huh?” He taunted. His words were sent straight to your pussy as it caused you to clench around him. You nodded and blabbered stupid yes’s.
“Gonna show me how much you like it?” He whispered as he pulled one and forcefully thrusted in you. You whimpered and moaned as you replied a breathy yes. He chuckled and continued fucking you like a mad dog.
He let go of your hair and wrapped his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers gently pressing on the sides of your throat. You felt lightheaded as he did so but it also added to how hot and turned on you were.
You felt your orgasm near as he continued. Your cunt clenched and pulsated around his cock and it only caused his moans to get short and breathy.
“Feel’s good,” he grunted in your ear. You could only mewl, moan, whimper- all of those sounds were the only things escaping your lips.
His other hand went down to your clit and he pinched it gently, causing a big moan to erupt from your mouth as you came on his cock. Essence spilling down from his shaft and onto the bed but neither of you cared. He groaned and his thrusts faltered slightly as you came on his cock, it felt even more tight and he closed his eyes for a moment as he continued.
But not long after you did he also cum inside you. For the second time. And it felt better than the first. You whimpered from the overstimulation as he shot his cum even deeper, the tip of his head brushing your cervix as his cum (and you were convinced) entered your womb with certainty.
He let go of the back of your throat and slowly pulled out of you. His cock softening as cum oozed out of your cunt and down on the bed. Both of you were left panting and you starting to feel sore and tired already. He looked around to try and find something to clean you with but couldn’t find anything.
So, he resorted to using his shirt to clean you off, “This might hurt,” he spoke softly as he gently pressed the fabric on your cunt and wiped the cum off. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he heard you take in sharp breaths. You were overstimulated and he started to feel bad for how hard he went.
He helped you lay down on your side and dressed you up. He put on your panties but then realized he had torn your nightgown.
“Sorry,” he mumbled shamefully. You shook your shoulders and looked at him with tired eyes, “It’s fine. They weren’t mine anyway.”
You both chuckled at that. You two had almost forgotten the situation you were both in, and maybe that was a good thing.
He pulled on his underwear and pants- since his shirt was used as a towel- and pulled the blanket over your body to give you some privacy. Even though he just fucked you.
He laid down behind you and wrapped his around your waist as he pulled you to him. Both of you closed your eyes and slept for a while, him nuzzling into your hair as your hands rested on top of his arms around your waist.
It was comforting. You felt cared for and that was all that mattered.
-
The two of you woke up to the sound of a door opening. Your eyes fluttered open almost immediately and you covered yourself with the blanket as Leon watched the scientists come in with a suspicious look. He narrowed his eyes as he saw them approach you.
“We’re going to take both of you to the examination room for testing,” one of them said. The other scientists gave you some new clothes before speaking, “We will wait outside.”
After they left, you exhaled loudly. You had forgotten you and the rest of the people were taken for insemination.
You slowly began to pull your new clothes on and walked out of the room with Leon next to you. The scientists saw you both and began to guide to a room down the hall, with two guards following behind you.
They had told Leon to wait in the lobby as they took you to a more private room. A female scientist came up to you and out on some elastic gloves, “I’ll be the one performing your pregnancy test. I’ll be taking your blood so please relax and take deep breaths for me.”
You sat down on the bed and followed her advice. There was no point in fighting or arguing since she clearly looked exhausted, probably overworked. But you couldn’t feel bad. You felt bitter at the fact that you now had turned into a baby machine- along with the rest of population.
With a sigh, you relax your tensed muscles as she took your arm gently and injected the needle on your vein. Blood began to draw from your arm and into a tube. Suddenly, you felt a wave of washiness. Fatigue overtook your body.
The test was over after a few minutes. The doctor withdrew the needle and put on a bandaid, “Okay. Off you go. Test results should be back in a couple of days. For now… I don’t know,” she shrugged tiredly as she moved over to the side of the room where she stored your blood sample with the rest.
There were at least 100 other blood samples. The mere sight disturbed you and you found yourself leaving the room hastily. Walking back to Leon, he looked at you concerned and gave you a once over to make sure you’re okay. Once he silently approved that you were okay, he spoke with a soft tone, “How do you feel?”
“Like shit,” you muttered. “Did you know that there’s a bunch of us here?” You whispered as your eyes searched around, “I don’t think we can leave.”
He furrowed his brows and looked at you, “Why not? We’ve done the deed, shouldn’t we be free to go home?”
You shook your head, “No. I don’t think so. I have a feeling we’ll be stuck here if the results come back positive.”
He sighed and looked away as the information set in. Freedom was so close, yet so far.
“So now we just wait?” He asked quietly to which you nodded.
“And now we wait.”
-
Days have passed and you two were called to a room. A scientist sat in the middle of the room, on his chair where he had stacks upon stacks of papers. Both of you sat down in front of the desk and waited for the scientist to notice you two.
“Ah- you’re here,” he muttered as he swiftly began to look for some papers.
“Alright… just to confirm the information is correct. You’re both Leon Kennedy and Y/n L/n?” The scientist asked.
The two of you nodded silently and the scientist continued, “Okay so, we have the results. You are pregnant. Which means we’ll have to keep you both under surveillance. You are to stay in this facility until the birth of your child. You will be assisted with the birth as well as the raising. We will provide all the essential services required for this procedure, all you two have to do is remain healthy. And please, for the love of God, be kind to the child. The couple before me kept on arguing so the least you two could do is pretend you love each other in front of the kid.”
You and Leon exchanged a glance and then looked back at the scientist. You knew this would happen, it was inevitable.
“Before I forget, you two got assigned a new room. On the second floor. Good luck and congratulations,” he said as he dismissed you both.
The two of you stood up and left the room, only to be met with two guards to escort you both to your new room.
You were to share a room but at this point, you didn’t care. You were too focused on thinking about the pregnancy that you had forgotten about Leon.
-
The more you hung out with Leon, you didn’t know if it was by force or nature, the more you realized how kind he truly is. He looked cold and mean on the exterior but inside he was just a man looking for love. Just like everyone else.
The pregnancy went just fine. Leon was there to support you 24/7 and so were the scientists.
When you had to give labor, Leon stood next to you and held your hand.
You gave birth to a beautiful boy. He had your hair while he had Leon’s eyes. You held your son in your arms and watched as Leon looked at you with awe.
What you weren’t expecting at all was that you fell for Leon. Even before the birth of your son, you and Leon actually began dating. The two of you shared some interests and actually liked to be around each other’s presence.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Maybe this was a new type of freedom for you.
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Text
Wandanat x adopted teen Hydra reader headcanons
masterlist
a/n: this was the most chosen in both polls, so I figured I’d post this one first. I apologise for not being able to come up with a lot for this one, but I hope you still like it :)
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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Wandanat who were both shocked when they found your broken and bruised body in one of the Hydra cells on their mission
Wandanat who didn’t hesitate to pick your unconscious form up and bring you to the quinjet to take care of you
Wandanat who immediately told Tony off when he suggested putting you in restraints until they knew more about you
Wandanat who stayed by your side until you woke up, and who reassured you after you had woken up that you were safe
Wandanat who stayed by your side while you were getting better, introducing you to the wonders of tv shows and take-out food
Wandanat who made sure you got a room next to theirs to make sure they could keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe and okay
Wandanat who helped you settle in to the best of their abilities. They wanted you to be as safe and happy as you could be, even though they knew it would be difficult for you to adjust
Wandanat who were the first to know when you accidentally unlocked your powers
Wandanat who helped you learn and control your powers, and helped you understand them and where they came from
Wandanat who brought you on your first ever shopping spree, buying everything you wanted, and who secretly bought everything you stared at for too long, while insisting you didn’t want it
Wandanat who bought you your first ever stuffed animal, one that you brought with you everywhere
Wandanat who nearly cried when you accidentally called them ‘moms’ one time
Wandanat who took you with them after the Avengers broke up, making sure you were safe and happy after another large change of surroundings
Wandanat who allow you to sleep in their bed with them when you get scared. You’ll be snuggling up to Natasha while Wanda snuggles up to you from the back, gently stroking your hair and back until you fall asleep, making sure you feel safe and secure in their arms
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