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#genshin impact reader insert smut
ddollipop · 2 years
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I BLOOM JUST FOR YOU. . . ! — ( TIGHNARI. )
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#. synopsis! — the reader comes into contact with a peculiar flower in avidya forest that has some even more peculiar affects. tighnari steps in to clean up the mess.
#. contains! — explicitly nsfw content , multiple positions , multiple orgasms , oral sex , cunnilingus , sex pollen , overstimulation , light squirting , vaginal sex , mentor x underling , tighnari calls the reader "good girl" , slight praise .
#. word count! — 4.1k .
#. a/n! — happy kinktober, we'll see how many times i post this month lolol. this isn't proofread bc i'm lazy & just finished up midterms yesterday, so pls ignore any mistakes for the time being n enjoy.
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Don’t judge a book by its cover. As a well-educated scholar, you were well beyond aware of that advice. You’ve heard it more times than you’ll ever care to repeat it, and before now, you would have even ventured to say that you were quite good at following it. And yet, despite that, you’ve been left stumbling your way through the forest, an unquenched thirst lapping at every inch of you from the inside out, —and all of this over a few samples of some strange flower’s pollen? Really?
It’s embarrassing, to say the very least of it. There are a million and one ways you know you should have done better, should have been more careful, more cautious. . . But now is hardly the time to be giving yourself some sort of incoherent lecture. After all, Tighnari will likely have that covered anyway, and certainly in a much more concise manner. You can practically hear him now, going on and on as he helps you deal with whatever the hell this stuff has done to you. It’s hard not to kick yourself for such a novice level mistake, but it’s just as equally difficult to imagine taking any criticism well, from yourself or from Tighnari, in this admittedly sorry state of yours.
It’s an incredible feat within itself that you were able to find your way back to Tighnari’s woodland workshop. The forest is dense and full of twists and turns, —ones that you find yourself turned around in on even the best of days. Maybe after two months you’re finally getting used to it.
Whatever the case, you slink your way inside to the tempo of the rapidly setting sun. Your knees all but clink together as you fumble about, using the wall to keep yourself steady. Tighnari’s ears twitch at the sudden sounds of struggle, head popping up along with the perked ears atop it. Observant as he always is, he quickly realizes that something is wrong. What that something is, he’s not so sure yet, but he rushes to your side nonetheless.
“Y/n?” He questions, reaching a warm, gentle hand out to you. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Just the brush of his fingertips against the plane of your shoulder is enough to leave you stiffened and hissing under your breath. These reactions aren’t inherently unfamiliar to you, —but under such circumstances? They’re unheard of.
“I feel weird,” you say, inhibitions lowered, leaving you more honest than you normally would have been if everything weren’t buzzing so loud in your veins.
Your heartbeat is hammering away, legs squeezing together involuntarily. The heat between your legs is pulsing and you can feel arousal slicking you up. But why?
“Weird?” Tighnari parrots, “—weird how? As in. . .”
He cuts himself off mid-sentence, then pauses. His nose crinkles a bit, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath. When his eyes widen in an expression of realization, you can’t help but fear that this isn’t going to end very well. 
“Describe your symptoms,” he says finally, but it seems to you that he may well already know what you’re going to answer with.
Through the haze clouding your mind and the heat swimming through your body, you manage to list off a sizable index, excluding your dripping cunt. Weakness in the knees, racing heartbeat, shortness of breath. . .
“I know this smell,” he says, emphasizing his words with another quick breath in, nose scrunching up on the inhale. “The samples you collected today, —where are they?”
“The satchel,” you answer, vaguely directing your chin in the right direction as you shift your position, hoping that it might relieve you of some of the tension eating away at your core. (It doesn’t.)
Tighnari follows your gesture and scoops the brown bag up off the ground. You’d dropped it somewhere along the line as you’d stumbled in through the entrance, but the details are already much too blurry to work out, so you refuse to even try. The last thing you need now is more strain on your feeble little mind. He digs his way into the various pockets, rifling through your decent number of plant-life samples. One of the tiny containers has a selection of poisonous berries in it, but Tighnari is fairly certain you wouldn’t have been foolish enough to eat them without knowledge of them.
He asks anyway, —just to be sure. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
“You didn’t swallow any of these, right?”
Through the subtle arch of your back, you give him an offended glance. He takes that as his answer.
“No, no, no,” he mumbles, quickly but carefully carding through the rest of the samples, excluding non-toxic plant matter and otherwise harmless collections.
And then it hits him. Spread between two hands, he holds three containers of the same off-white, powder-like pollen. The sickeningly sweet smell sticking to your skin makes too much sense now. He knew that he’d smelled it before, but couldn’t place it. Now that two and two have been put together, Tighnari feels a pit grow in his gut.
“You collected this without gloves, didn’t you?” He questions, and you hate that even through your stupor, you can hear the disappointment ebbing along the edge of his words.
The least this feverish karma could do is offer you some sanctuary from your mentor’s subtle wrath.
“I. . .” You begin, but can’t bring yourself to admit it, instead settling for a nod.
It’s getting worse now. You’re shocked that you’re not sitting in a pool of your own arousal by this point, but fear you might be teetering on the cusp of it. The whine that escapes between your lips from the back of your throat is humiliating in spite of Tighnari’s indifference to it all.
“That was a poor decision,” he tells you. “The pollen of the flower you collected these samples from is genetically modified. It was designed to stimulate the sexual drive of mammals in the area due to a sudden population drop that was offsetting the forest’s ecosystem.”
“This,” Tighnari says sharply, holding one of your samples up for emphasis, “is a heightened aphrodisiac, and from the looks of it,” he pauses, taking your shivering form in with a scrutinizing gaze, “—you’re quite sensitive to it.”
That seems like an understatement, even to you and your staggering thoughts. Being sensitive was one thing, but this was on a completely different plane of reality. Every move you make sends a tantalizing mixture of shivers and shockwaves across your body, both inside and out, limiting your options for relief. It didn’t stop at the swelling heat festering and bubbling in your groin, —it spread to every part of you imaginable, from the dry hum in your clenched toes to the ringing in your ears. 
“How do I fix it?” You question breathlessly, hips dipping and rising to the catastrophic drum of your libido.
Tighnari’s ears flatten a bit in embarrassment as his cheeks dust themselves a light pink. It hardly dawns on you that he might be feeling some semblance of shame in this scenario as well.
“Well, you’ll have to. . .” He stops, as if preparing himself to say whatever’s coming next.
You’ve got a bad feeling about it now, even if it doesn’t register above the quiver in your thighs.
“Satisfy the drive.”
He turns away to put the pollen samples out of harm's way, busying his hands so as to not have to meet your eyes.
The broken “huh?” that falls from your lips sounds more like a moan of pleasure than it does a noise of inquiry, but it’s the best you can do given the circumstances. Tighnari is not proud of the way his cock twitches upon hearing it, but supposes that it can’t be helped. It’s undeniable that you’re attractive, both in general and to him. . . Especially to him.
Unable to force it down any longer, your hand travels between your thighs and you cup yourself roughly, begging for the warmth and friction it provides. Just that alone has a tattered moan rising to the back of your throat, head falling back against the wall that steadies the small bed in Tighnari’s workshop. It’s seen many bodies over the years, most of them ill or injured, but never like this. Your mentor thinks to himself that he’s glad it’s you before anyone else. He turns to you once more, eyes raking over your frame in this embarrassing state.
“T-Tighnari,” you sputter a bit, attempting to hold yourself in place long enough to escape the humiliation. “Can you please look away?”
Before he can filter it, (though he’s not sure he would have truly known how in the first place,) Tighnari’s lips part and words tumble from his tongue like heavy rainfall.
“I can help.”
It sounds more like a question than an assertion, but either way, you’re in no position to refuse.
“Please,” you whimper, desperation clinging to every letter.
Maybe some of the pollen has affected him too. Maybe Tighnari just wants to dive deeper into this moment to see just what’ll happen, like some kind of very hands-on experiment. Whatever the case, he nods, ears twitching rapidly as he leans over you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss that leaves you gasping into his mouth. Somehow, you hadn’t expected that to be his mode of aid, but whatever he thinks is best, you’re more than willing to give it a try. For someone so consistently calm and collected, his tongue slides into your mouth in a matter of seconds, sliding smoothly against your own. There is no fight for dominance, —you’re far too gone to even think about being in control. Whatever Tighnari can offer, you’re ready and willing to accept with open arms.
Or, an open mouth and open legs, rather. . .
Your saliva is overwhelmingly sweet, and the quizzical side of Tighnari wonders if it’s always like that, or if the pollen’s effects have slithered into even the most crude of places. Not that he minds it, especially in the moment.
You mumble something against his lips that he doesn’t catch through the hum in his veins and his pounding heartbeat, but his guess hits the mark as he clumsily falls to his knees at the edge of the bed. Pulling the shoes from your feet with ease, he has a bit more difficult of a time pulling the bottom layers of your clothing from your body. It dawns on him then that he isn’t well-educated or well-experienced in this department. Thankfully, you’re so blissed out having only kissed him sloppily for a minute that he assumes you’ll take just about anything, and he’s free to make mistakes along the way.
He pauses for a moment, much to your displeasure, and you sit forward using the bulk of your strength.Your fingers split his ears apart, raking through his neatly groomed hair, and Tighnari shivers. Admittedly, you’ve wanted to touch his ears for a long time now, ever since you first met him. . . But it seemed inappropriate to ask given his station as your mentor, and even more than that, you could always tell he became quite agitated when others would request such a thing to his face. This isn’t how you thought such a thing would come to pass, but the dominos have fallen, and it is what it is.
Frankly, you’re more concerned with the way he slits you open: —first with his tongue, offering a small prodding with barely more than the tip to get a grasp on your flavor. The arousal slicking you up is sweet, maybe sweeter than your saliva had been, but even so, Tighnari isn’t certain if it’s just your natural secretion or if that pollen really does have something to do with it. The second time is with his fingers, separating the lips to catch a glimpse of the silken folds they cover. 
You’re glistening in the last rays of dying sunlight, legs perched on either side of yourself, and Tighnari wonders if this is all some strange fever dream. Every part of him feels as if it’s been consumed by you; lost to your tempo and your rhythm. He’s drowning in your ocean.
His second taste is brought about through a long, deliberate lick that uses the full flat of his tongue. It brushes past your swollen clit, dips into the needy opening, and lingers just below your mound before he pulls away and does it again. There’s something about the way you squirm and pant from so little that has him less than threads away from going feral. Your entire body is hotter than it’s ever been, temperature spiking more the longer he has his way between your thighs. Tighnari may well be a forest-dwelling man, but he certainly could have fooled you with this display of primal thirst. The way he works his tongue against every sweet spot it can reach is enough to make you see stars.
In the moment, he seems something more akin to a prowler of the desert than anything else.
You draw one of your stabilizing hands up, pressing the fingers firmly over your lips, keeping them sealed. Every inch of you is throbbing with need, even as Tighnari satisfies what urges he can with his mouth. Observant as ever, he notices the way your lone arm shakes under the pressure of it all, and after a moment of admiring the way your muscles quiver just under your skin, he pulls away and seeks a different position.
Even when riled up beyond any shred of comprehension, Tighnari is a gentleman at heart.
“Lay back,” he suggests, and you do: right against the top of the bed that’s houses but a single pillow.
He wastes no time positioning himself back between your legs, pushing your knees to the side and then up just a bit for ample access. This time, Tighnari skips the inquisitive gestures, spitting right onto your slit before suctioning his mouth around you. From above, your moans and the way you writhe around every so often encourages him to keep going as saliva bubbles up around his lips.
You claw at the thin sheets spread across the bed’s equally thin mattress, hips eventually bucking up into his mouth. He loves the way your pussy grinds against the flat of his tongue, moving with him as he pulls you closer and closer to orgasm. Pulling your knees nearer to your core, Tighnari matches your stride. Once more, he latches onto your sensitive clit, relishing in the little yelp you let out as he slides his tongue across it roughly. Above your own noises and the suckling sounds between your thighs, you can hear Tighnari’s sharp breaths. As your fingers find their way between his ears again, clutching and pulling at his hair, he draws little shapes along your clit with his tongue until you’re left cumming against his mouth.
Whether it’s Tighnari’s skill or the ever-present impact of the pollen, your eyes roll back and your fingernails dig into the flat of your palms even through the fabric of the sheets clutched between them. Somehow, though. . . It’s not enough.
“Better?” He asks, —but is secretly hoping for the answer to be a resounding “no.”
He’s embarrassingly elated when you shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip in the process. It’s not that he wants to take advantage of the situation, but what else is a man to do? You’re in desperate need, and he can offer you the assistance you require.
That, and he really wants to fuck you.
“It’ll be okay,” he says, extending his back as he sits on his knees to reach up and cup your cheek. “I’ll take care of it.”
Every cell inside you is on fire as you watch Tighnari undress. The sun has mostly finished setting, leaving the both of you in the care of torchlight from the entrance of the workshop. The warm glow of the fire accentuates his lean muscle and the subtle pigment of his skin. Without thinking, your hand travels to the heat between your legs, rubbing circles against yourself as Tighnari had done with his tongue. Just the sight of you masturbating to him undressing is enough to make pre-cum pool along the slit of his cock.
“I don’t even think you realize how hot you are right now,” he breathes out, as if unable to keep that sentiment holed up inside any longer.
You really didn’t have a clue.
He returns to the bed, tugging you up to position you on his lap. Your dripping cunt hangs just over the reddened tip of his cock, and Tighnari holds your hips steady as he coaxes you down on it. Albeit average in girth, he was surprisingly long, —at least longer than you’d been expecting. It takes you a few moments to slink down completely, but when you do, he reaches up to pull you into another sloppy kiss. He was hoping it would distract you from any sting of pain.
“Good,” he mumbles against your lips, “that’s a good girl.”
Tighnari does away with the rest of your clothing, tossing your blouse and bra. . . Somewhere. You were far too preoccupied to check on the location. His lithe fingers trail their way up your exposed spine. You’re so warm and wet, your walls suckling on the hard cock of his buried deep within your needy snatch. He doesn’t want to rush you, but he’s aching too by now.
“Go on,” he whispers softly, encouraging you to ride him for the both of your sakes.
You do.
Overly sensitive and shaky from the get-go, your moves aren’t clean nor crisp, but Tighnari loves the rogueness of every motion. You’re left squelching around his length each time your desperate cunt swallows him up again, clit throbbing from the friction. Moans fall continuously from your lips, ringing in Tighnari’s ears like a melody the moment you rest your forehead against his bare shoulder as you ride him. Eventually, his hands find their way to your ass, helping you find a natural rhythm that suits your capabilities in the moment.
He can feel you quivering against him, and he thinks it’s cute.
“Good job,” he praises in a breathy voice, mumbling the words right into your ear. “Just keep it up and we’ll get all of this out of your system.”
Tighnari is by no means stingy with compliments. Now that he’d settled in, he was more than glad to whisper sweet nothings in your pink-tipped ear, mumbling about how nice it feels to be inside you and how beautiful you look speared on his cock like this. And every last word of it is painfully true.
You bounce and grind to your heart’s content on his member, digging your nails into his supple skin in the process. The little twinges of pain paired with the heat of your drooling pussy leaking arousal all over him is well past the point of blissing him out.
When he reaches between your bodies to slide the tip of his thumb over your clit, it doesn’t take long before you’ve been pushed over the edge. That first orgasm really loosened your nerves, making you that much more sensitive, which was somehow possible in spite of your skepticism. Tighnari loves the way your back arches when you cum, chest pressing right up against him. He’s yet to chase his own release with your body. That will undoubtedly come with time, —but this is about you, and Tighnari is nothing if not willing to put your pleasure before his own.
It just so happens that his coincides very much with yours, in this instance.
He doesn’t even rush you as your second orgasm wears off, instead waiting until your cunt stops periodically clenching around him before he suggests another position change.
This time, Tighnari wants you on your side; which offers you a welcome rest. His front matches the curve of your back as he wraps a single arm around your neck, pulling you close to him. With his free hand, he reaches out to grab hold of your leg, pulling it up to offer himself better access to your entrance. With both of his hands full, it’s up to you to guide him inside, and when you do it feels like heaven. There’s something special about the angle of this position that lets him poke and prod at all the right places, and when he cranes his neck forward, sticking his tongue out for you to suck, you waste no time in latching on to lap at his mouth.
The frantic desperation in your every move is somehow angelic, despite the lewdness of it all. Tighnari thinks to himself that he could sit here just like this, watching you wiggle and writhe against him, for an eternity or two.
Tighnari cants his hips, slapping himself against the flesh of your ass every time he slams back in. The head of his long cock eventually angles just right, and you squeal just a bit when he brushes against the sweetest spot inside you. A smirk pulls at Tighnari’s lips.
“That’s the spot, hm?” He asks, slowing his pace deliberately in order to offer you a series of slow, delicious hammerings that hit just right.
You slur something out through the fog on your brain that somewhat sounds like “yes” before bringing your hand down to play with yourself. Between your shaky fingertips swirling around your clit and the head of Tighnari’s cock slowly pumping against your g-spot, it’s less than sixty seconds before you’re cumming for the third time, pussy convulsing around your mentor. This time, liquid seeps out uncontrollably from the hole Tighnari is stuffed in. It’s not a lot, but it’s incredibly warm, and it dribbles down your thighs before soaking into the sheets.
He loves the way it feels as it trickles down his shaft when he finally decides to pull out.
“One more time, just for good measure,” Tighnari mumbles, pressing both your shoulders to the mattress. 
He’s yet to cum himself, and this time, he’ll be seeking his own release in tandem with yours. His thumb presses against your tongue for a moment as he waits for your breathing to even out. When it does, he pushes your legs apart once more and stations himself between your thighs. It’s an easy entrance, of course, but your walls still grip him just right. Cum slicks him up further and strings itself between your cunt and his length, as if emphasizing his every move.
He likes the way you bite down on the side of your hand, eyes half-lidded from pleasure. The trust you place in him is both sincere and incredibly stimulating for your fox-eared lover.
This position is simple, yet fulfilling all the same. Tighnari listens to your little noises, watches your eyes dance about in your skull, and has an equally thirst-quenching view of his own reddened cock shifting in and out of your cunt. His mouth waters from just the sight of it alone.
“This is an important lesson,” he says, emphasizing that with a particularly rough thrust that leaves your spine arching off the bed. “These are the things that happen when you collect unknown plant matter without gloves.”
Your body burns both from the shame of having disappointed him, and from the way his length fills you up.
Tighnari doesn’t say it, but he knows that you understand you don’t have to go and send your body into hyperdrive to garner his attention. You’re a smart girl, after all. . . All you have to do is ask.
With just a few more pumps in and out, Tighnari feels his own orgasm bubbling just under his skin. Your body mourns the loss when he pulls out for the final time, resting the tip of himself against your slit. As he rubs the head of his cock against your swollen clit, the both of you climax, your cunt throbbing and convulsing as he spills his seed between the lips of your pussy. It dribbles down so beautifully, like sticky sap from a tall tree.
Surprisingly composed given the circumstances and Tighnari’s rather conservative demeanor, he allows himself a bit of calming down before sliding off the bed and redressing. It’s a quick process, one that makes your head spin.
“Clean yourself up while I’m gone,” he tells you, seemingly back to his typical self. “I’ll dispose of the pollen before you find yourself in an even worse predicament.”
But, at least you were spared the majority of the lecture.
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taintedtort · 7 months
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scaramouche trying to praise you during sex because you arent comfy w degredation and he gets all awkward and shit!! -💗ANON
" PRAISE, PLEASE? "
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summary. you ask for praise and he gets nervy
character. scaramouche
warnings. afab!reader, SMUT!!, degrading near the beginning, praise
a/n. this has been in my inbox for so long, i’m so sorry 💗 anon! i’ve been meaning to right it for a while, but here it is finally. hope you like it! (i think it’s lowkey ass, im so sorry)
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"fuck— you feel so good… such a slutty pussy," SCARAMOUCHE grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he pushes his cock into you over and over. it feels good, obviously, but his usual degrading words are bothering you a bit more this time.
"so greedy, sucking me in like a pathetic whore," he groans, his eyes glued to where you’re connected. he watches as he slides in and out of you, his length shiny with your arousal.
"scara…" you mewl, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. he leans over your body, his face getting closer to yours. he opens his mouth to say more, but you cut him off before he can get a word out.
"can you, uhm— praise me instead? i don’t really like the degrading all that much," you confess, mumbling through your pleasure filled moans. his thrusts come to a stop, and he looks at you with furrowed brows.
he’s hit with a short wave of guilt. he always tends to degrade you, as it just comes naturally, but with the new knowledge that you don’t like it, he feels determined to correct himself and make you feel good. he can be selfish, but he‘d never want to intentionally ignore your wishes and make you sad. he’d do anything you asked, even if it made him feel awkward.
"i… i can try, i guess," he resumes his movements, and you can tell he’s going much softer now than he was before. he’s silently worried he hurt your feelings, so he racks his brain to think of something nicer to say.
he leans down to pepper kisses across your face, mainly focusing on your cheeks and forehead. you can’t help but smile, appreciating that he’s trying to be nicer even though it doesn’t necessarily come naturally to him.
"i love seeing you under me like this, you look so pretty," he mumbles, and you swear you see his cheeks go a bit pink. he’s not looking at you, his eyes trailing over your body instead, trying to distract himself from his rising blush.
your body relaxes against the bed, letting his compliment sink in as your pleasure slowly builds. he keeps his pace quick, but his hips are no longer roughly slamming into yours. you certainly don’t mind the change, taking the opportunity to run your fingers through his silky hair.
"shit— you feel amazing, made just for me, all of you," he breathes out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep his moans muffled. he buries his face into your neck, placing kisses and gentle nips to the skin there.
he‘s mainly trying to hide how awkward he is, and you know that, but you appreciate him trying. the thought of him going out of his comfort zone just to please you makes your head fuzzy and causes your orgasm to build quickly.
you jolt and moan louder when you suddenly feel two fingers press against your clit, rubbing quick circles to match his thrusts.
"scara! 'm gonna— ah! gonna cum!" you whine, seeing him nod encouragingly. he starts to go harder, fucking into you with the force that he normally does. your body rocks with each thrust, little squeaks and moans forcing themselves out of your throat.
"cum for me, sweet girl. make a mess on my cock," he grunts, his own release rapidly building as he watches you fall apart underneath him.
"fu—fuck! scara!" your moans increase in pitch as you teeter over the edge, dangerously close. your pussy throbs around him, making him hiss in pleasure.
"that’s my good girl," he mumbles, almost like he’s saying it to himself, but you hear it. his praise is what finally pushes you to your release, squirming on the bed before you finally cum around his cock.
he watches as your eyes roll back, your mouth popping open in a silent moan. he groans at the sight, loving the faces and sounds you make when your consumed with pleasure.
"you’re so cute when you cum like that," he grunts, chasing his own orgasm now. you can’t help but smile dumbly at his strained words, a bit dazed as you slowly come down from your high.
you watch as SCARAMOUCHE grows closer and closer, his face scrunching up in concentration and pleasure. you’re now able to hear the little sighs and groans he lets out, your own moans not drowning him out anymore.
"cum inside me… please?" his eyes snap to yours when he hears that. the thought of making a mess of your pussy has him cumming almost instantly.
he pushes his hips flush against you, shoving his cock deep in your cunt as he fills you, both of you letting out a moan.
"fuck… love this pussy so much." you giggle at how breathless and pleasure drunk he sounds, his eyes half lidded with a small blush on his cheeks.
after a moment of catching your breath, SCARAMOUCHE pulls out slowly, his eyes locked on where his cum drips out of you. it falls onto the bedsheets below, but he doesn’t seem to notice nor care. he takes in the view of you sprawled out on the bed, your body naked and slightly sweaty. all for him.
the knowledge that you’re his has his body heating once more, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looks up at your tired expression.
"again."
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dvlboy · 27 days
Text
eyes on me
"shhh.." your thumb trailed his lip as he stared into your eyes, simeons eyes starting to panic at the sound of the demon brothers coming in. "don't focus on them, they're not important.." you kissed him roughly, before gripping the smooth skin of his hips that were around your legs.
MDNI | TOP MALE READER, REPLACED AU , EXHIBITIONISM
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"w-what if they find us on your bed [name]? we didn't close the door.. this is a terrible idea.." simeons eyebrows furrowed as he stared at your open door, the light from the hallway illuminating his worries. "then let them watch, let them see what they missed out on.." you kissed him again, lightly rutting your hips against his. "let them see what they lost," you whispered into his lips, staring into those eyes.
he was supposed to help you pack your things from the house and help you move into his living quarters. the two of you planned it out so well too, trying to avoid those brothers and the new student like both of your lives depended on it. it was supposed to be quick and easy, silent almost.
based off of the moan that ripped from simeons mouth when you moved slightly, things would not go to plan. but its easy to forget the betrayal of those demons, the faux innocence of the new transfer as they blamed you for everything. it was the only time those thick arms and buff body worked against you. but its so hard to care about those burned bridges, those long screaming matches against lucifer and satan, or the days where you went straight to your room instead of lounging with mammon or working out with beel. its so hard to care when you have a gorgeous angel under you, a gorgeous angel who listened. and even when they felt bad, or tried to get your attention again, you never looked back.
"my, simeon.. i barely even moved, and you're already crying out.." he closed his eyes and leaned on your sheets, his body grown sensitive from no action. he could hear unsuspecting footsteps get closer, urging him to bite his lips against his arm. you were a hulking force against him, settled nicely inbetween his legs and caging him between your arms, slowly pushing in and out of him. he could feel your breath on his face, and the grunt you made when you manhandled his arm off of his mouth, pinning it down.
"don't be shy angel~" an uncharacteristic coo left your lips, an almost sadistic glint in your eyes as you stared face to face against him. "let 'em hear you sing.." and with that you resumed, cock digging into his warm, tight walls. it was like you were trying to fuck the sound out of him, burying yourself into his core trying to find what made him scream in pleasure.
"do angels even have prostates..?" you muttered to yourself as you rolled your hips against his, trying to piston inside of him and push into his tightness. sweat was starting to build up on his forehead as he sat there and moaned, his cock starting to dribble precum down his cock. poor simeon wasn't sure if his brain could ever work after this, too much pleasure from your cock for him to go back to normal.
it was only when you felt a really weak grasp on your arm and your poor angel gasping out between crocodile tears, weak sobs and moans, nails gripping into your forearms, trying to catch his breath. whenever you rolled your hips against one certain area inside of him, he would shudder and cry out for you, his body tensing and moans getting louder before he slumped under you, soft whines leaving his lips.
your eyes widened when you looked lower, seeing streaks of white painting his toned stomach and abs. "did you just cum for me angel?" you leaned closer, watching as he shied away from your face, "no need to be shy, s'long as you can keep up with me." the sheets were damp from sweat as you continued to fuck him, loud cries and moans ripping from his lips as he tried to beg you to slow down, to give him a break, to stop stimulating him for a few minutes at least.
but no words could coherently leave his lips before a moan interrupted it, his lungs burning and his eyes weeping from pleasure. it was like he needed and craved more by how he pulled you in, yet wasn't physically able to handle all of you. you pulled away from his face, readjusting yourself between his legs, one hand going to his spent, red cock. simeons head shot up when he felt your big warm calloused hand stroke his overstimulated cock, frantic and almost panicked whines leaving those lips of his, too fucked out to even hear how multiple sets of footsteps slowly grew louder.
"knew you'd be a screamer," you grinned at his teary face, turning to face the sudden crowd of people. "turn to face the crowd simeon, say hi." simeon was mortified, trying to cover himself up. "don't mind them my dear, focus on me.. focus only on me.." you pushed his hair back from his sweaty face, the action making butterflies rise in his stomach, too many for a man who couldn't think coherently under you. your tone was soft and sweet, pushing the back of your hand to his cheeks.
"hello lucifer, mammon, beelzebub.. here to break my heart again?" you turned to them, eyes sharp and voice. there was none of those sweet undertones that you had with the angel.
lucifer stepped forward, clearing his throat from his anger as he got ready to scold you, albeit with a heavy blush on his face. "save me the words lucifer, you're intruding in my room, with my lover." you kisses his face, slowly moving inside of him once more making him mewl. you looked at mammon who couldn't look back at you, shame building in his gut as well as his arousal. "you guys remember when i was in your rooms? this coulda been any of you but you chose to believe them." bitterness seeped through your tone and your force into simeon got rougher, subconsciously fucking your anger into him.
"and when you find out i'm right, i don't wanna hear shit after how bad you treated me.. and for making me feel special" you paused to look back at mr. whiney under you, "got someone else to focus on, so you guys can shove those horns up your ass and fuck off." talking to lucifer like that would normally kill you, but even he couldn't look at you or simeon, the memories of past passionate nights haunting him as he quickly walked away.
you turned back towards simeon, a predatory gaze on him. your hands reached for the lube as you poured some over his overstimulated cock and his hole, the cold liquid making him shiver. "now where were we? needa fuck all my frustrations into my angel after that." you coo'd at him, yet nothing about your actions were as gentle as your words
"
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starfinss · 5 months
Text
ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇᴅᴅʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇʟᴜꜱɪɴᴇꜱ — ᴡʀɪᴏᴛʜᴇꜱʟᴇʏ
𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Genshin Impact
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Wriothesley + Reader
𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW 
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 12,925
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: After beginning work as a doctor at the Fortress of Meropide, Siegwinne decides you and the Duke are a good match, and will do anything in her power to get you to together, even if she has to take drastic measures.
Or, alternatively, Siegwinne adds a little something extra to the Duke's tea. Chaos ensues.
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As soon as the suture needle so much as touched the man sitting before you, he was already flinching away.
“That hurts!” He cried, “please, doctor, be gentle with me.”
It was almost laughable, really. Monsieur Phillip was a hardened criminal, or so you’d been told. He was a career criminal, you remembered the Duke remarking, and he’d been sentenced to serve time in the Fortress of Meropide for a myriad of things, such as assault, and even attempted murder, but here he was, a hulking mass of a man, whimpering in pain at the slightest prick of a needle. 
“Hush,” you said, tutting gently, “the quicker I start, the quicker it’s over. Now hold still.”
He flinched back again, eyeing the needle like it was out to get him. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Please try and relax. I can assure you, I did go to medical school.”
Before he could say anything else, you made the first stitch, carefully, but quickly enough so as not to cause him too much pain. Even with the numbing gel you’d applied, it seemed that the patient’s pain threshold was quite low. It usually removed enough sensation that any leftover pain would be no more than a pinch, but even with that, you could see tears beading at his lash line.
A hardened criminal, indeed.
You finished the sutures quickly before bandaging the injured shoulder and giving Phillip some care instructions.
“And,” you said, “no more getting into altercations about work times, okay?”
Phillip sighed, casting his eyes away from you.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You smiled, kindly. “That’s doctor to you.”
It wasn’t wholly unexpected. Men tended to have lower pain tolerances than women did. You’d given stitches to many people before, and when it came to whining, the men tended to be the most common offenders. 
After Phillip left, you checked up on a woman who was resting in one of the infirmary beds, and after taking her temperature and walking away with your clipboard, you nearly tripped over Siegwinne, who had somehow snuck into your path without you noticing.
“Archons,” you exclaimed, a hand flying over your heart, “I need to put a bell on you.”
Siegwinne ignored your remark. “May I see the patient’s chart?”
You handed it to her. “The patient shows signs of improvement. Her fever has broken, and her delirium has started to clear up. She should make a full recovery.”
Siegwinne hummed meaningfully. “Very good. I was worried about that one. I am glad to hear she is healing well.”
You nodded, then turned, starting towards your desk, but before you could make it, Siegwinne called your name, making you pause.
“Yes?”
Her expression remained impassive, eyes curious, unsuspecting, and she tucked the clipboard under her arm as she closed the distance between you.
“Have you seen the Duke today?”
There it was. You didn’t know what you’d been expecting aside from this. Ever since Siegwinne had caught onto the fact that you’d developed a crush on the Duke, she’d tried to do everything in her power to set you up with him. In the beginning, that was all it was. A crush. It was a crush in the same way one would develop an infatuation with a colleague or schoolmate, based on their appearance or the limited positive interactions they had with them. It was no secret that Wriothesley was an attractive man. He was tall, and handsome, anyone with eyes could see that. You’d heard the whispers among female inmates and guards alike. You were not unique in feeling some form of attraction to him. 
But to Siegwinne, your silly crush was an opportunity. 
“You’re a good woman,” she told you, “and His Grace is always stressed. I fear for his health. I think you would be the right person to keep him company. You are a good match. Your influence and affection would do him much good.”
Siegwinne came to you with this a few months after you’d started work at the Fortress, completely out of nowhere, stunning you to silence. You had no idea how she’d caught on to your feelings, and when you expressed as much, she went into a rambling tangent about human behavior, something about the dilation of pupils, and how she’d been taking notes, and that was when you cut her off.
“Absolutely not.”
But nevertheless, she persisted. 
Siegweinne’s matchmaking attempts rarely ended conclusively, since she tended to see things as a logical cause and effect, and did not at all fit the way any normal human would attempt to court another. They mostly involved putting you and Wriothesley into situations that forced you to speak or interact with one another, with little to no regard to how much said situations were an inconvenience to you. Her first attempt, as such, embarrassingly enough, involved telling the Duke you’d had some kind of accident with an inmate, and when he came to the infirmary to check in, finding you unharmed and working at your desk, all that ensued was a lot of confusion. You wondered why he’d come all that way to see you, and he was surprised to find you not laying on one of the infirmary beds.
But, what her attempts did do, was make the way you felt about Wriothesley, which was no more than a passing fancy at first, grow into something more. 
And despite your best efforts, that only made Siegwinne latch on even harder. 
“Hello?” Siegwinne said, shaking you from your thoughts, “I believe it is polite to answer a question when asked one, or have human customs changed?”
You brushed off her unintentional rudeness, instead answering what she’d asked you.
“No,” you said, “I have not seen His Grace today. He’s a busy man, Siegwinne. You know that.”
“Well, you should go see him.”
You sighed, leaning down to take your clipboard from under her arm, then crossing to your desk.
“I don’t have a reason to go see him,” you said, sitting down, “and like I said, His Grace is a busy man.”
She didn’t push after that, simply going back to work as you did yours, and you tried to put it out of your mind. You and Wriothesley were friends, you’d say. Even though you usually found yourselves meeting in less than normal circumstances, you were still fond of him. You enjoyed his frank, matter-of-fact personality, and dry sense of humor, and he seemed to enjoy your company as well. Your relationship was as casual as it could be between you and a man who was technically your boss, and friendly enough that you had conversations outside of work related matters. You’d never let Siegwinne know this, but her repeated and clumsy attempts at setting you up were not without some benefits. 
That was fine, you supposed. You’d bonded over Siegwinne and her antics, and built a friendship over a shared love of tea, as well as an author you both enjoyed, among other common interests. But that was it. As much as Siegwinne, and, begrudgingly, you, would like to say otherwise, you and The Duke were only friends. 
And, it seemed, as you settled into that fact quite comfortably, Siegwinne only grew more brazen in her attempts at Melusine style matchmaking. 
Her latest attempt involved trying to shut you in a locked room with The Duke, which failed when Wriothesley produced the master key in order to open the door. It happened a little over a week ago, which made you nervous, because Siegwinne didn’t like letting too much time pass between her less than gentle shoves. You were almost completely certain that Wriothesley knew what was happening, he’d have to be stupid not to, though he hadn’t said anything about it. This was probably to spare you from any further embarrassment, which you appreciated. 
The situation was hopeless. You knew that well. But Siegwinne didn’t, and that was beginning to become a problem. You didn’t know why you’d let her get away with this for the handful of months that you had, but maybe, deep down, you hoped that something would actually come from all her meddling. 
And apart from that, you had a certain degree of professionalism to uphold. Wriothesley was your boss, and you were both his employee and his doctor. As much as you found yourself wishing otherwise, pursuing your feelings, even if that was an option, just wasn’t ethical. 
But still, you could dream, you supposed. Dreaming was harmless. 
“I need you to run an errand for me.”
You turned in your chair, raising an eyebrow at Siegwinne, who was staring over at you innocently, a thermos in her hands. You looked at it, then back at her, puzzled.
“Siegwinne, I’m not in the mood.”
She frowned. “To do your job? How unbecoming. I’m simply asking you to deliver this tea to the Duke. His Grace is suffering from a headache. I delivered some to him this morning, but the problem still persists.”
You glanced at the thermos again. “Tea? What’s in it?”
She immediately became defensive, and for a moment, you almost felt guilty for doubting her. 
“Medicine!” She cried, “what do you take me for? I’ve brewed a painkiller into the tea. It should help with His Grace’s headache. If you don’t trust me, you can take a sip yourself.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Why can’t you do it?”
Her brows pinched together in annoyance, and maybe a little indignance. “I have to go see a patient, thank you. A young man is complaining of nausea, and finds it hard to stand because of it, so I am going to see him in his cell. Now, will you bring His Grace the tea, or not?”
You sighed. In your own mind, your hesitance was completely justified. Siegwinne had tried to trick you into being alone with Wriothesley many times before this, but then again, if the Duke was actually feeling unwell, and you refused to bring him medicine, what kind of doctor would you be? 
And so, you relented. With another sigh, you stood, snatching the thermos from Siegwinne’s outstretched hand. 
“Fine,” you said, “I’ll be back as soon as I drop it off.”
If Siegwinne was disappointed by this, she hid it well. She simply nodded, then crossed over to her desk to busy herself with her medical bag. You glanced over a few more things at your own desk before scooping up the thermos and leaving the infirmary after calling a quick few words of parting to Siegwinne, who only nodded. 
You shivered a little as you left the infirmary. Siegwinne tended to keep it warmer there, with a space heater sitting in the corner to combat the cold dampness of the rest of the Fortress of Meropide. It was better for the patients, she said, if they had somewhere nice and warm to rest and recover. You were fairly certain she also said something about humans and their preference for warmth, but that wasn’t important at present. 
The clang of your boots against the metal floors rang out as you walked, head held high, thermos in your grip. The air smelled of iron and brine, a scent you’d grown used to in the time you’d been working in the Fortress. Artificial light cast everything in a sort of ominous hue, and the low strength of it left everything in partial shadow. It used to make you nervous, not knowing what hid behind them, using them like masks. Now you knew that whatever was waiting for you was something you could handle.
You glanced down at the thermos in your hands. It was warm, likely just brewed. There was no way Siegwinne would have you serve the Duke cold tea. The thermos was plain; unassuming. It was slate gray, probably stainless steel. You turned it over in your hands, studying it. It was just tea. You had no reason to think it was anything other than that. But with Siegwinne, you’d learned to expect the unexpected.
Absently, you stepped into the elevator to take you down to the administrative floor. The car jerked, and with a mechanical clank, began to move. You turned the thermos over in your hands again. It’s just tea. For the Duke. Your poor, ailing boss. You twisted your mouth. It was fine. There was no way Siegwinne would ever do anything to actually harm Wriothesley. You tapped your nails against the surface of the thermos, almost jumping from your skin when the elevator came to an abrupt stop as it reached its destination, jostling you where you stood and ejecting you from your tangled thoughts. 
You sighed as you left the elevator, tucking the thermos into your arms and against your chest. Everything was fine. If Siegwinne took anything seriously, it was health. You’d caught her staring intently at you on many occasions, and when you asked her about it, she told you she was making sure you were healthy, in a very matter-of-fact tone, like it was obvious. She may be odd, but she wasn’t going to try and harm anyone. 
As you reached the doors to the Duke’s office, you reached into the pocket of your skirt, digging out the key to the lock. Because of the Fortress’s status as a prison, it was only natural that important areas such as the office of the warden would remain locked. The only way to get in was if you had a key or if you were invited by Wriothesley himself. There was also the off chance that the Duke left the doors unlocked, but that was uncommon. Regardless, before you put the key in the lock, you raised your hand, knocking on the door with a great clang. 
“Your Grace?” you called, though it was unlikely he heard you through the thick steel, “I’ll be coming in now. I have some tea for you.”
And with that, you pushed the key into place, twisting. With a grunt of effort, you pushed the doors open.
It was as you were opening the door that you heard him, calling to you. It was muffled under the mechanical clank of the doors, making you only vaguely aware of his call of your name, and you hurried to close the door to answer him. The lock clicked as you did, signifying that the mechanism had reset to its previous locked state. 
You expected Wriothesley to call out to you again after your lack of response, or even possibly to come see you. It was unlikely that Siegwinne would send you on an errand without previously announcing your arrival. But instead, you were met with silence. You gripped the thermos more tightly, hesitating.
“Your Grace?”
You heard something else then. A soft intake of breath, only able to be heard because of the complete lack of noise, save for the quiet hum of machinery from beyond the doors. Then, you could hear him clearing his throat. 
“Yes,” you heard Wriothsley say, from up the stairs, “up here.”
You sighed, relieved, as you made your way up the curving staircase and into the main office.
And as for things you expected to see, this was not among them.
Wriothesley was sitting at his desk, but he looked more than a little disheveled. His coat had been discarded, draped over the back of his chair, and his tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck. His waistcoat was also unbuttoned, as were the top two buttons of the dress shirt he wore underneath the garment. His gloves had also been removed, laying out on his desk beside an empty teacup. His hair was tousled, more than usual, and his face…
You furrowed your brows, suddenly concerned. His face was flushed, a deep pink settled in the apples of his cheeks, very evident against his usually pale skin. Breath, feather soft, expelled itself through parted lips, almost too quickly, as he looked over at you, brows pinching together, as if pained or troubled before the expression calmed. Wriothesley straightened, clearing his throat again, and he was hurriedly fixing his clothing, deft fingers doing up the buttons of his shirt, smoothing back over his hair. 
His eyes fell to the thermos in your hands, lingering, before sliding up to your face. 
You stared at him, your concern growing more by the second, and after a beat, you crossed to the desk, setting the thermos down.
“Your Grace,” you said, “I’ve brought you painkillers for your headache, but you look… May I examine you? You do not look like you’re feeling well.”
“Examine me,” he repeated, then took a slow breath, squeezing his eyes shut before shaking his head, as if clearing away a fog. He swallowed, raking a hand through his hair, and it was then that you spotted sweat beading on his forehead. 
“Yes,” you said, gently, already in doctor mode, “please, let me help.”
He cleared his throat, for what was probably the third time, and you narrowed your eyes. You were rapidly beginning to get suspicious in addition to concerned. There was something he wasn’t telling you. Absently, you found yourself mentally scolding yourself for neglecting to bring your medical bag.
“I’m fine,” he said, though he certainly didn’t look fine, “please, don’t trouble yourself. You’ve come all this way for me, so would you at least sit with me for a cup of tea?”
You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift. It was fine, though, you supposed. Staying around wasn’t a terrible idea. It would give you a chance to more closely study the Duke’s behavior, and try and figure out what the problem might be. And so, you stepped to the table off to the side, picking a clean tea cup from the collection displayed there. 
“I don’t need any, really,” you said as you leaned over to take the thermos from the desk, “Siegwinne made this for you, for your head. I am happy to sit and talk with you, though, if you want me to.”
Wriothesley smiled easily. “If you like, I can brew you a cup from my personal collection of teas. What do you like?”
You flushed, feeling special, and you turned to busy yourself with arranging his cup of tea to hide the pink in your cheeks. 
“You already know my preferences, Your Grace,” you said, over your shoulder, “just a cup of earl gray is fine.”
You heard shuffling, then the sound of a drawer being pulled open, and you knew the Duke was rifling through the collection of teas he kept stored in his desk. Shifting your focus, you removed the small travel cup attached to the top of the thermos, then unscrewed the lid. Immediately, you were hit with the scent of the tea. It was unexpectedly sweet, and sort of floral. It certainly wasn’t the Duke’s usual style, that was for sure. You took another lungful of it, and could make out notes of various medicinal herbs, including rosemary and feverfew, both known to help with headaches. You could also smell a hint of lavender. But there was still that floral, sort of rosy scent, undercut by the bitter, citrus aroma of the feverfew. It smelled a bit like rainbow roses; of petrichor and morning dew and sweet fresh petals. It certainly had herbs in it, some of which were known to help with what the Duke needed, but the combination of them that you were able to discern was puzzling to say the least.
You put it out of your mind, chalking up the roses to being there to help with the bitterness of the feverfew. With a sigh, you poured the steaming liquid into the teacup. It was sort of a deep rouge color, bordering on purple. A nice color, you decided, and not entirely unexpected with what was contained in the tea. You placed the cup on a saucer, then carried it, alongside the still half filled thermos over to the desk, setting them before the Duke. In exchange, he handed you the tea bag you’d requested, which you accepted gladly. 
After you’d filled a cup with boiling water, which the Duke always seemed to have on hand in any nearby kettle, ready for a quick cup. You added the tea bag, as well as a few spoonfuls of sugar, then took your seat on the couch by the tea table. 
Wriothesley’s face twisted as he took the first sip from his cup, seemingly troubled. 
“It’s very sweet.”
You tilted your head. “Is it not to your liking? I’ll be sure to tell Siegwinne to tweak the recipe.”
Wriothesley waved a dismissive hand. “No,” he said, “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s not my usual style, but I don’t dislike it.”
You nodded meaningfully, blowing over your tea once more. 
“How are things over in the infirmary?” He asked, and you sat up straighter, engaged. 
“Fine. The usual. I had a man who was scared of needles just before I came over,” you said, “I’d barely touched him before he was telling me to stop.”
Wriothesley laughed, amused. He took another swallow of tea.
 “Oh, really?” He said, “Monsieur Phillip, I suspect? That man always gets into brawls, but is terrified of medical treatment. And he never wins those brawls. The gardes always have to pull the other guy off of him.”
You hid your smile behind your teacup. “I know,” you said, “Siegwinne is always scolding him when he comes in for being reckless.”
Wriothesley rested his head on a closed fist, thoughtful, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Maybe a few rounds in the Pankration Ring would do him some good,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t go putting any ideas in his head,” you said, “he might become a permanent resident of the infirmary if he starts entering into any matches.”
Wriothesley made a face, pale blue eyes moving to rest somewhere in the depths of his teacup. “Maybe he’d pick up a few things about proper combat, though.”
It was your turn to laugh. “Maybe, but at the cost of his health.”
You enjoyed this. It was hardly the first time you’d been invited to stay for tea, in addition to being personally invited to tea a handful of times before. Wriothesley’s presence was pleasant and inviting, despite his intimidating stature and appearance. His height dwarfed many other people, and you’d seen few as tall as he was, save for the Iudex, who was far more slim than the Duke was. Where Monsieur Neuvillette was tall and lithe, Wriothesley was broad and powerfully built. His sheer size alone, made only more prominent by the bulky coat he wore around his shoulders, was enough to intimidate anyone.
But despite that, he was an amicable and good-humored man, earnest and straightforward. He made you feel at ease, and your growing affection for him settled low and warm in the spot behind your heart. 
His face was getting more pink, you noticed, with a start. You took another sip of tea, watching him closely. His brow furrowed, just briefly, and he was fiddling with the bands of leather around his throat, as if they were suddenly too tight. He shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.
“Your Grace?” You said, and he seemed to snap out of whatever had overtaken him, regarding you with raised eyebrows and an expectant expression.
“Sorry,” he said, “what were you saying?”
You studied him, eyes narrowed, and he laughed, a little awkwardly.
“You’re doing that thing Siegwinne does,” he said, “the thing she does with her eyes. I don’t know how you replicated it so perfectly. There’s nothing wrong, I promise. It’s just suddenly kind of hot in here. Do you feel that?”
You shook your head. In fact, to you, the room was cold. Just as cold as the rest of the Fortress, save for the infirmary. It was the reason for the thermal lining in the pale blue overcoat of your uniform, the color that marked you as medical staff, as well as the reason for the thicker uniform fabric worn by the majority of the other general staff. 
“No,” you said, and Wriothesley looked puzzled. 
“Oh,” he muttered, puzzled, “I was warm earlier, but I’m starting to get… hot now. I don’t suppose that’s normal?”
You cracked a smile at that. “No, I don’t think so.”
A spell of silence passed before your mind snapped back to what he’d just said.
“You were feeling overly warm earlier? When did that start?”
Wriothesley furrowed his brows, considering your question before answering. He took another sip from his cup, then poured more of the contents of the thermos into it.
“This morning,” he said, “I can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but it was maybe shortly after I had a cup of tea.”
You snorted, amused. “You realize how little that narrows it down, don’t you? You drink more tea than anyone I know, Your Grace. I need a measure of time, not cups of tea.”
He chuckled at that. “I apologize. I believe it was after Siegwinne delivered the tea she made for my head. Which is feeling much better, by the way. I think what I’ve been drinking while we’ve been chatting has helped kick the rest of it. I’m almost finished with the thermos.”
Suddenly, you made the connection. 
Almost robotically, and with learned efficiency, you went over the contents that you’d smelled in the tea, along with their uses. Feverfew, maybe some lavender, and rosemary. All of those had various uses, though they all had one thing in common, which was pain relief. Finally, there was the rainbow rose. The petals and buds were used for medicinal purposes, and could be used as such, similarly to common red roses, for anything ranging from headaches to a sore throat. 
Something was missing. Something was wrong. The scent itself had been off.
“The tea,” you said, “from before. Was it sweet?” 
Wriothesley nodded, taking another gulp, and finally, pouring the last of the contents of the thermos into the cup. “This brew is sweeter, though.”
You stood, then reached for his teacup, bringing it to your nose and inhaling. You caught the same things as before, but as you mulled them over, something else clicked. 
Siegwinne wouldn’t. Would she?
“It’s really hot,” Wriothesley said, and you could see the sweat beaded at his hairline, sticking the hair at his temples to his skin, cresting down his cheekbone. 
You reached out, and when the back of your hand made contact with his burning forehead, he flinched, making a soft sound in surprise and alarm.
“Why is your skin so much colder than mine?”
Your skin wasn’t cold. In fact, your body was at an average temperature, kept warm by the layers of clothing you were wearing. By your own assessment, your hands were probably relatively warm. You frowned, reaching into your pocket and withdrawing your penlight, circling the desk to situate yourself closer to the Duke.
The way he was looking at you when you drew closer was strange. Almost hungry. Famished, ice blue hues swept over your form, and you watched as his hands, previously resting on the desk, folded in front of him, over his lap. 
You moved closer, leaning halfway over to him, hand making contact with his face to tilt it towards you. He flinched at your touch, breath shuddering, and you studied his eyes closely before muttering a warning and shining your light into his face, instructing him to follow the light with his gaze.
“This isn’t… necessary,” he protested, weakly, and you ignored him. His pupils were blown wide, dark pits in the center of the sky blue of his irises. 
“Mydriasis,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him as you switched off your light and pocketed it. 
Your hand dropped from his face to just under where his jaw met his throat. You pushed aside the leather straps, just enough to access his pulse point, pressing two fingers to the spot. His heart was racing, quick and erratic, and you felt him shudder, breath heavy, his jaw setting tightly as your hands drifted across his skin, probing and searching. His skin was burning with heat, feverishly so, and coupled with the elevated heart rate, the blown pupils, and the way he seemed to flinch whenever you made contact with his skin directly, you could only make one conclusion.
“So,” you said, backing up to stand up straight, “this started after you had the first brew Siegwinne dropped off, yes?”
Wriothesley nodded. “It did.”
His voice. It had dropped several octaves in the time you’d been examining him, and you cursed the effect it had on you, coursing hot through your bloodstream. It felt so deeply unprofessional for a doctor to even think of her patient in the way the brief thoughts that fluttered through your mind suggested you do.
“Is it worse after this second batch?” You forced yourself to say.
He huffed a laugh. “You could say that.”
And it was then when you noticed, from where you were standing, that Wriothesley’s belt was undone. Rosy hues colored your cheeks as you yanked your gaze away.
“You need to tell me all of your symptoms,” you said, “spare no detail.”
Panic briefly flashed across his face as he crossed and uncrossed his legs.
“Hot,” he said, “I feel far too warm. Do I have a fever?”
You narrowed your eyes. He was purposely hiding the truth, but nonetheless, you answered.
“Yes,” you said, “but I believe it’s because your body is overheated and not because you're fighting an infection. I just said not to leave anything out, Your Grace, please tell me everything. As your doctor, I–”
“I’m… Archons, I don’t want to say it,” he paused, searching, almost frantically for something else to focus on. “What was in that tea?”
You swallowed, leaning back to rest against the desk. 
“Herbs,” you said, “rosemary, feverfew, and lavender. All meant to help with pain and headaches. But I could also smell rainbow roses.”
Wriothesley brightened. “Yes, I thought that was what I tasted. It brings such a unique flavor to the table, don’t you agree?”
You fought a smile, endeared by him, but now was hardly the time. You needed to figure out what was wrong with him, not to discuss tea. 
“Yes,” you said, “but it was strange. Too sweet. It only gets to that level when the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose are included alongside the powdered roots of a rainbow rose, in which case the combination can make–”
Oh. Oh. 
As you were talking, it clicked into place. The scent, which you’d thought was much too sweet before, suddenly made sense. Sumeru rose must have been the final ingredient. It was flavorless when consumed, but smelled quite sweet. When combined with rainbow roses, the scent of the two grew overpoweringly saccharine. Unless diluted, it would almost resemble a syrup. If the rainbow rose petals were boiled alongside the powdered roots of the Sumeru rose, it could become a powerful medicine able to soothe a bad cough. But if the roots of both plants were powdered, the results were…
You cursed yourself for being so stupid. Of course, Siegwinne would see nothing wrong with this. Medicine was medicine, regardless of what the outcome of its ingestion spelled, so long as it got the desired result. To her, the suggestion of something unbecoming would be taken with great offense. 
“‘Can make?’” Wriothesley supplied, and were already imagining the ways in which you were going to rip Siegwinne a new one.
“I need your symptoms. Now. I am a doctor, Your Grace, I promise I will be as non judgemental as possible, just please–”
“Damn it,” he interjected, face hidden in his hands, “I’m aroused.”
Anything you’d just been about to say left your mind, swept away by dread, because you knew what was happening.
Siegwinne was evil. You could already picture her expectant, innocent face, asking just how her little ‘experiment’ had gone, and it filled you with boiling rage. 
Though, there was also the fact that she could simply be misinformed. Melusines had different reactions to some medicines than humans did, and it was equally possible that she simply thought that, if dosed with the tea, the Duke’s feelings for you, if he had any, would just be made more prominent. For her sake, you hoped it was the latter. 
“Aroused,” you parroted, trying hard to stay professional and failing miserably, because this was unethical on so many levels, “tell me more about that.”
He made a strangled, startled sound. “You want to know more?” 
You wanted to melt into the floor. “I need to know how strong the dose you’ve been given is.”
“Dose?!” He said, “of what?”
You refused to look at him. “When mixed together, the powdered roots of a Sumeru rose and a rainbow rose create a powerful aphrodisiac. I believe the first dose you received was a weaker version, and this one is much stronger.”
Silence followed as Wriothesley took in the information, then cleared his throat.
“Do you have an antidote?”
You raised your head to look at him properly. He looked almost haggard, the flush from his face creeping down his neck. 
“There… kind of isn’t one.”
Wriothesley made a sound of frustration in the back of his throat, hands raising to card through his hand, and it was then that you noticed it. Now that his hands were no longer hiding it, you could see it, there, outlined against the dark fabric of his slacks. 
He was hard. 
A wave of suffocating, shameful arousal washed over you, and you forced yourself to look away, to ignore it.
You could only begin to imagine how he was feeling. The way you were feeling was nothing compared to him, his condition undoubtedly much more intense than your own physical reaction in response to his arousal, and you could feel his eyes on you as you scrambled to find a solution. 
“What am I going to do then?” He asked, “it’s getting… I’m sorry, It’s getting rather unbearable. I tried everything. It’s impossible to ignore, and I know I can’t use my hands.”
You spared him a glance. “Why?”
“Because,” he said, “I was already trying that. It wasn’t enough.”
Oh. The unbuckled belt. His disheveled state when you’d walked in. He’d already been dealing with the effects of the first dose, or at least attempting to. The call of your name, as you were entering the office. The silence before he summoned you up to the second floor.
Fuck. He’d been thinking of you. 
That had to be one of the hottest things you’d ever heard, professionalism be damned. Arousal rolled over you like a breaking wave, making you bite into your lower lip.
You knew what needed to happen. You knew the effects of this particular drug would take, and you knew that the only way to relieve his symptoms was either to very painfully wait it out or to… find relief. In this case, that entailed another person. 
“You need to have sexual intercourse,” you said, “or you can wait it out.”
Wriothesley cleared his throat. “Wait it out,” he said, “right, I can do that. How long will that take?”
You twisted your hands together. “It… depends. You were likely given a pretty strong dose, even for someone your size. By my estimate, it would probably take several hours for it to work its way out of your system.”
He chuckled dryly, humorlessly. “Great.”
You cleared your throat. “Do you have someone I could… call? A girlfriend?”
He snorted, as if amused by the idea. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
That would make sense, you supposed, if he was calling out your name, and not the name of another woman. 
“We both know what Siegwinne is doing,” Wriothesley said, “not just with this, but for the past few months. I can’t pretend I’m not fond of you, and neither of us can pretend there isn’t something between us.”
It was like the ground dropped out from under you at the sheer brazenness of his admission. You stared at him, thunderstruck. 
“You… what?” 
A cavalcade of thoughts crashed together as you rapidly attempted to process what he meant by that, but he barely gave you any time before he started speaking again.
“Look,” he said, “if you don’t feel the same, I can accept that. I’ll wait it out, and we can pretend this never even happened. But if you do, are you even… slightly interested in um… helping me? Because honestly, I feel like I’m about to explode.”
Heat coiled low in your stomach, threatening to overtake you as the lovely rasp of his voice made any of your logical thoughts close to meaningless. This was so vastly unprofessional. He was your boss, and you were his doctor. But something dangerously close to want was settling neatly over that space you usually reserved, that you looked to for reassurance about your professional standing with the Duke, to tell you that your feelings for him, ever growing, were improper. 
And when you turned, watching his face, the way his hungry gaze traced your body through your uniform, something in you snapped, and you threw caution to the wind.
Head lowered, face flushed, you swallowed your rationality and any remaining hesitance you had left. 
“I suppose,” you said, “I could use my hands.”
Wriothesley’s body jolted in anticipation, and his eyes betrayed his hesitance, darkened to steel blue with lust as he nodded once, then once more.
“Hands,” he repeated, “yes, hands are good. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
You found it touching that he was at least trying to take your comfort into account, even when he was drowning in desire, and you took a slow step forward as he shifted, pulling his chair out enough to allow you room to situate yourself on the floor in front of him. As you took another step, he took his coat from the back of his chair and laid it at his feet, another gesture you appreciated. 
Once you reached him, you knelt down between his thighs, and he watched you with burning eyes, flinching when your palms smoothed over his clothed thighs, jaw tightening. Medical curiosity echoed briefly in the back of your mind, taking note of just how sensitive the drug had made him to the simplest of touches, how he shivered as your nails grazed against the insides of his strong thighs. 
Fuck, he was radiating heat. So much so that it was beginning to affect you, and you shifted back on your knees to remove the overcoat layer of your uniform, leaving you in the blouse and underskirt beneath it. Wriothesley’s eyes followed your motions with rapt attention, and when you moved forward again, settling, you felt him jolt when your palm met his leg once again.
This close up, you could see it, just how much he was straining against his trousers, his erection pressed against his zipper, and hesitantly, you cupped it in your hand.
The Duke gasped at your touch, fingers twitching where he’d curled them around the armrests of his chair, then tightening in a white-knuckled grip as you ever-so-gently squeezed. He twitched against your palm, and you removed his belt entirely, dropping it to the floor with a clatter before you were unfastening his button and zipper.
You palmed him through the fabric of his underwear, and you could already feel how big he was just from that. A sort of eagerness threaded its way into the burn of your arousal as you pushed away any remaining layers, pulling him free.
Fuck. He was so thick, and when you slowly wrapped your hand around him, your fingers just barely met. He was long, too, though you supposed it made sense for a man of his size. He was flushed red, painfully hard, and when you squeezed, you felt him twitch once more, his body tightening like a coiled spring. His hands tightened their grip on the armrests, flexing, and you felt his hips shift forward, unconsciously. 
The first stroke made his head roll back, the sound he let out one of relief, just from that simple touch alone. It made you squirm in place, the sound of his voice and the stricken hitch of his breath causing the desperation of his arousal to bleed into your own building need. Precum was beaded at his tip, and you almost wanted to lean forward to lap it up, especially as more leaked out in response to the way you were stroking him in slow, even movements. 
Heavy breath expelled through clenched teeth, followed by a low, low groan as your thumb found his tip, rubbing in slow circles, and it was then that you leaned forward, giving into temptation as your tongue pressed to the underside of the head of his cock in a slow lick.
“Oh,” he gasped, “oh, you don’t have to– oh, fuck.”
He cut himself off as you lapped at his slit, groaning through his teeth. He was already completely lost to pleasure as you pumped the base of him, and when you took him into your mouth, sucking on the tip, you heard him curse, a sound drawn out with a low, decadent groan. 
“You said your hands– oh!”
Arousal was settling low and smoldering hot in the pit of your stomach, pooling between your thighs, and you whined as he whispered your name. You released him from your mouth, hands moving to rest on his thighs, and you dragged your tongue up and along the underside of his dick, gathering up any precum that had dribbled down. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his slacks, lips grazing the side of his shaft, and he repeated your name, louder, voice twisted with an urgency that made your blood sing.
It was embarrassing, just how quick you’d gotten like this, punch drunk on the reactions he gave you, the way his body reacted to your touch. It filled you with an addicting sort of power, one that threatened to overtake you if you weren’t careful. But right then, all you wanted was to add fuel to the ever growing fire. And, with the way he was breathing, rough and ragged and broken, you doubted he’d be opposed to that. 
Your tongue flicked out, against the fold of skin just below his tip, and he tensed, crying out helplessly. When you finally took him in your mouth, fully, his head fell back against his chair, a feral groan tearing itself from his throat as your tongue pressed firm against him. Your hand moved from his leg to encircle the base of him again, squeezing and stroking in tandem with the slow bob of your head, and making the Duke gasp at the sensations. 
When you sucked, just a little, Wriothesley babbled a string of curses, hips twitching up towards your mouth, and when you ducked down, bobbing your head, one of his hands flew from the armrest to the back of your head. You thought he’d push, or maybe take control, but all he did was lace his fingers into your hair, unmoving. His body shuddered under the roll of your tongue, under the press of your free hand to his stomach, creeping under the layers of clothing covering him, his skin fever hot against your own.
You took him deeper, and he twitched, hips jumping as you hollowed out your cheeks, drawing back before surging forward once again. You relaxed your jaw further as his hips bucked, and he muttered an apology, breathless and feverish. His head pitched back as you rubbed your thumb against his base, and he twitched again, sharply. When you looked up at him, through your lashes, he was gazing down at you with hooded, burning eyes. There was desperation in his cool blue hues, a wordless plea for anything, everything you could give him.
And with everything you had, you delivered. 
You dropped your jaw, swallowing as much of him as you can, drinking in the sound of his breath shuddering, tapering off into a low moan. You sped up, gradually, and the sounds he made were so madly erotic that you found yourself aching to reach between your thighs and take care of your own growing need, but you could hardly focus on anything apart from taking him as deep as possible without choking. The sheer girth of him was enough to make your jaw sore, and when you moved forward again, he hit the back of your throat, making tears catch in your lashes. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, drawing the word out with the sound, long and low and you kneened around him, making him curse and buck. 
The hand not tangled in your hair raised to his face, balling tight, and he bit down on his fist, stifling his uncontrolled cries of ecstasy, eyes squeezing shut, brows pinching in concentration. He was trembling beneath your touches, twitching against your tongue, and when you moved back to suck on the tip, slow and indolent, the noise that left his mouth was nothing short of pornographic. 
“Yeah,” he seethed, voice breathy, needy, “fuck, yeah, don’t stop.”
Not a chance in hell you were doing that. You clamped your thighs together, squeezing around nothing, and you knew you were soaked, evident in the way your panties were sticking to your skin, your thighs tacky with sweat and the soak of your own arousal. Your hand curled into a fist where it rested on his stomach, then flattening once more and flexing, searching for anything to anchor yourself. When you took him into your mouth once more, fully, he bucked his hips, groaning with no regard for volume. He was close, teetering on that edge, evident from the way his grip on your hair grew tighter, the way you could feel the muscles in his stomach tensing, and when you took him deep and sucked, he moaned, long and low, the sound almost forced from his fraying lungs. The sensitivity had to be maddening, you decided, and you’d use that to your full advantage. 
Slowly, you pulled back, lapping at the leaking tip, hand working tirelessly at the base of him, and you barely had any warning before he tipped over the edge, back arching, breath all but leaving him. You shifted back in surprise, reflexively, and cum painted itself across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, the seam of your lips. You closed your eyes in an attempt to keep anything from getting into them before you were hurrying to take him in your mouth, sealing your lips around him. His hand was fisting in your hair, and the sound he made, a low, breathless groan, was one of sheer, debauched relief. 
You sucked, and he let out an obscene moan as you swallowed down his cum, hips jerking, the hand previously fisted between his teeth flattening against the desk, palm slamming down, just once, and you heard the rasp of wood under fingernails as he moved to grip the edge. 
You slowed, working him through the intensity of his orgasm, as he twitched and throbbed under your touch, the sheer volume of cum surprising you. It leaked from your mouth, down your chin, and you did your best to swallow as much of it as you could. He slumped, boneless, against his chair, and when you moved to clean him with your tongue, you got to listen to the delightful sound of him gasping from oversensitivity.
“Fuck,” you heard him say, dazed and utterly breathless, “fuck.”
Slowly, you drew back, and his eyes followed you, breath hitching and gaze darkening as he took in your appearance. The sight of you, knelt before him, covered in his cum, was enough to make him groan aloud, cheeks flaring pink.
“Archons,” he said, “that has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You let out a short, breathless chuckle.
“Do you have a rag or something?”
He nodded, once, and you stood on shaking legs before leaning sideways against the desk, and he pulled you closer, gently wiping your face clean with a tissue before depositing it in the trash situated under his desk. 
“How do you feel?” You asked, and he huffed what may have been a laugh, nearly disbelieving.
“That was… Incredible. But I’m still, um…”
You crooked an eyebrow, watching him, expectantly.
He looked almost guilty. “I’m still hard.”
Oh. Oh. 
You weren’t completely surprised. You didn’t know if a blowjob alone would be enough to work the drug from his system, and clearly, it wasn’t. Not that you minded. Your own arousal was a steady pulse below your skin, working like a second heartbeat. Desire coursed through you, and you pressed your thighs together once more. You wanted it. You already knew that. You wanted him. 
“Alright,” you said, and what was left of any phantom of resolve, or the shreds of your until recently professional relationship with him all but vaporized, “sit back.”
“You don’t have to,” he started, the protest as fragile as glass, but you cut him off.
“I want to. I’ve… wanted this– you– for a while. So please, Your Grace– Wriothesley. I want it all. If you’ll have me.”
That was all it took. With a low, shuddering breath, a signal of his rapidly fraying restraint, he was yanking you forward and into his lap, his fingers working the buttons of your blouse open, hurriedly shucking it down your shoulders once undone. He made quick work of the ties fastening your skirt to your body, and you briefly shuffled off of him to drop it to the floor, along with your stockings, before resituating yourself on his lap. 
“If I’ll have you?” He rumbled, the low, rough ombre of his voice sending prongs of lightning down your spine, and he yanked you closer, mouth dragging along the curve of your jaw.
“How could I possibly refuse?”
And then, for the first time, he was kissing you. 
His lips were burning hot against yours, and your fingers found his hair, threading into messy locks, nails dragging against his scalp. He huffed a sigh into your lips as he nudged his tongue between them, tilting his head to slot his mouth more firmly against yours, and when his tongue dragged against yours, you moaned, low and soft, into his mouth. He kissed you slow and deep, almost a juxtaposition to the way he was feverishly running his hands, large and calloused, down your body, and when his fingers grazed over the patch of nerves just where your lowest rib met the curve of your waist, you shuddered in his hold. 
You could taste the tea he’d been drinking on his tongue, cloyingly sweet, and it was almost too much when mixed with the heady, spiced smell of his cologne. Everything about him was overwhelming you in the best way possible, rendering you pliable and soft in his hands. Fuck, Wriothesley needed his own warning label. It was almost funny, really, just how riled up you were when he was the one who had been drugged with an aphrodisiac. 
His teeth caught your lower lip as he drew back, tugging, before he was diving back in, hands planted firmly on your hips, and you let out a stuttering gasp as he pulled you forward, his bare cock pressing against your stomach. 
The way he shuddered at the contact was enough to make your head spin with arousal, and when you shifted forward once more, just to see what he’d do, the grip on your hips grew to nearly bruising. 
“You have no idea,” he husked, low and rough, the very threads of his sanity slipping from between his fingers, “how hard you’re making it to hold back.”
His words shot straight between your thighs, and you rolled your hips again, loving the way he stiffened. You felt his palm, dragging slowly up your body, then finally moving to cup your breast through the fabric of your bra, squeezing. You arched your chest into his touch, his name whisper soft on your lips. 
He unfastened your bra after some fumbling, his coordination clearly beginning to become impacted by the drug. Once the garment was discarded, he barely gave you time to breathe, and you gasped when his head dipped down, mouth dragging across the valley of your breasts, skating along the side of one before his lips found one of your nipples, drawing it into the heat of his mouth.
He groaned at the taste of you, indulgent, as he laved his tongue over your flesh, hands sliding up to grip your waist, holding you in place, allowing him to explore the newly exposed skin with his mouth as much as he pleased. He was strong, his grip like iron, but it didn’t prevent you from slowly rocking your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his bare cock, and the way he groaned into your skin was a sound of delirious pleasure. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, almost disbelieving, “fuck, I’m a lucky man.”
His tender words made your heartbeat quicken, and you squeezed him closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers catching on the buttons of his shirt, and you quickly unfastened them, pushing the cloth away to smooth your palms over his bare skin. Gently, you pushed him back against the chair you were both situated in to look at him, and the sight before you was almost too much.
You already knew he was muscular, that much was obvious by just looking at him. But beneath his clothing, among thickly corded muscle was a patchwork of scarred flesh. You’d known about some scars; three of them crept up over the collar of his shirt, partially hidden by the straps he wore around his throat. There was also a collection of them on his arms, and of course, the one under his right eye. The ones that were hidden wove their way across his chest like a roadmap, some of them faint, and others more prominent, pale threads across his already pale skin. You laid your palm against him, tracing the one closest, and he shuddered, leaning into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. Your fingers skimmed down his chest, to his trim waist, and when your thumb caught in the deep v at his waist, he let out a soft grunt. 
One of his hands moved from your waist to your hip, squeezing the plush flesh, then migrated to the apex of your thighs, and when his middle finger rubbed you through the sodden fabric of your panties, a high, breathy whine tore itself from your throat. He pressed harder, and your back arched, eyes falling half-lidded when he circled your clit through the fabric.
Then, without warning, he was pushing the cloth aside, and the feel of his calloused finger dragging across your entrance was enough to make you jerk in his hold.
He dipped his head, forehead making contact with your shoulder, and it took you a moment to realize he was watching himself, observing the sight of his hand between your legs. When your hips twitched, he used his opposite hand to hold you steady, effectively forcing you to stay in place as he did what he pleased with your body. 
“Please,” you whispered, and that was all it took for him to tire of his teasing, sinking his finger inside you with a slow, indulgent movement.
You gasped, the sound bleeding into a moan when his finger curled inside of you, and he pushed you down, forcing you to take him to the knuckle. You whispered his name as he curled his finger again, and when he added a second finger, you squeezed your eyes shut. He groaned at the sound it made when he thrust his fingers into you, the lewd, embarrassing schlick of you around him, and you had to take a moment for your jumbled thoughts to catch up with you. His fingers were so much thicker than your own, not to mention longer, and he was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. He thrust again, and you cried out, hips twitching, causing him to tighten his grip. 
The curl of his fingers hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars, and when he felt the way it made you tighten around him, he began to abuse it with everything he had. 
“Oh, Gods,” he groaned, “you’re so wet.”
You could do no more than gasp as his palm ground against your clit, and he held you there, forcing you to take it as he pressed in slow, maddening twists of his wrist before replacing his palm with his thumb.
It was arousing how easily he could manhandle you, and you had absolutely no desire to fight against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were getting close, embarrassingly quickly, and you could do nothing to stop yourself from hurtling towards that end, walls throbbing and contracting around his fingers.
One of your hands shot between you, encircling his thick wrist, and you weren’t sure what the purpose of that was, either to push him deeper or simply to find purchase, but you did know that your desperation made his dick twitch where it was pressed between you, forcing him to stifle a groan.
You convulsed in his hold, hips jerking in his iron grip, his name on your lips, and with a final press of his thumb against your clit, you came hard around his fingers, biting down into his shoulder, and he worked you through it with slow thrusts that made stars and celestial bodies dance across your closed eyelids. You called his name, urgent and drawn out, yet high and needy, and he replied with a groan of his own, his free hand flying from where he was holding you in place to wrap around his own cock, palming it, thumbing the head, forcing a moan from between his teeth.
You slumped heavily against him as you fell from your high, and when he withdrew his fingers, you let out a shuddering breath, the sensitivity sending your thoughts into nonsense. Your head was spinning, thoughts in a daze, and all you could feel was him as he panted for breath. 
Seconds of silence, only interrupted by heavy breathing, passed before you rose on unsteady legs to discard your panties before you were settling over him once more, and he watched with hazy eyes as you shifted forward, pressing your bare cunt against the underside of his shaft in a slow grind. His mouth fell open in a silent cry, brows pinching upwards, the sensitivity clearly unbearable. Suffocating, maddening lust worked its way through your bloodstream like a toxin, and you knew he needed more, from the way his hips rutted up in halfway thrusts as you rubbed against him.
“Fuck,” he choked, head falling back as the tip of his cock caught against you, “I wanna–”
You rocked forward, and his entire body jolted, tearing a groan from deep in his chest.
“What do you want?” You asked, breathless, and he lifted his head to look at you, the fog of desire in his eyes downright sinful.
He yanked you close, trapping his cock between your bodies, and into a frenzied kiss, his restraint all but gone as he unabashedly moaned at the feel of your skin. 
“I want,” he husked, mouth pressing open kisses against your jaw, and he stopped, breath hot against your ear, “to be inside you.”
Your breath left you in a rush, and you drew him into a deep kiss, one he returned with vigor, hands smoothing down your body to grab at your hips, pressing you forward and against him once more, and when you pulled back, his eyes were wild with desperation and maddening lust. 
“I don’t have protection,” he said, and you shook your head, dismissing him.
“I’m on birth control,” you said. Siegwinne made the tonic you took, something she supplied even to female inmates to help with lightening periods. But right now, it would be used for its intended purpose. Wriothesley nodded as he took this information in, seemingly relaxing a little.
“Please,” he mumbled, and you blinked, surprised to hear him beg for anything, but you were hardly going to deny him, “I’m going insane. I need you.”
You took a shuddering breath as you shifted up, using one hand to brace yourself as you took his cock in your hand, pressing him against you. You both cried out in unison at the feeling, even the slightest whisper of much needed friction enough to make you feel lightheaded, and you felt his hands grasp your hips, urging you downwards.
You sank down, slowly, and even the tip of him was a stretch, a dull ache blossoming as you pressed closer. Both hands landed on his shoulders, breath heavy, and he groaned lowly at the sensation.
“Slow,” he said, fighting for control, “c’mon, you can take me. Relax, deep breaths.”
You nodded, once, as you did as he instructed. Your knees shuffled as you pressed yourself down, met with more resistance, and forcing you to stop, gasping for air. He was only halfway in and you already felt full, stretched to accommodate him. It was unfamiliar and new, and you weren’t used to this, but his grip was tightening, and with a deep breath, you thrust down, taking the rest of him in one quick motion. 
The sting of the stretch danced across your frayed nerves like a livewire, and you grit your teeth, head slumping forward as Wriothesley let out a long, low groan, both of his hands rushing to your hips, squeezing, keeping you in place. 
A string of curses left his lips as his head fell back, and you could feel him throb inside of you, so deep you could hardly believe it, stuffed full to the brim. 
“Just– oh, or you could just take it all. Fuck,” he quieted, breathing heavily, before speaking again, “are you– did that hurt you? Are you okay?”
The pain wasn’t horrible, and you hesitated to even call it pain. It was just an ache, dull and unpleasant, but you’d been wet enough that taking him hadn’t caused you any actual damage. You sat still as you adjusted, the aching burn of the stretch rapidly fading into something maddening, replaced by a desperate need. 
“I’m fine,” you said, voice strained, “I’m okay.”
He nodded, once, before drawing you close, linking your mouth to his in a kiss far more gentle than you’d expected. You felt him throb, and when you squeezed, you got the pleasure of hearing him groan your name.
“You’re so tight. Please, please– yeah–”
His head fell back as you rocked your hips, lifting yourself up, only to sink back down, and when you repeated the action, he groaned helplessly, a string of almost nonsensical praises spilling past his lips, only serving to make you want to wreck him even further. 
Sheer, uncontained relief was tangled inextricably with every sound he made, his hands squeezing your hips as you took him again, and again, and again, and oh fuck, you felt like you were being split open, impaling yourself repeatedly on his fat cock. The burn from before turned into pure ecstasy, the stretch of him inside of you intoxicating, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck as you moaned out his name. He wasn’t even bothering to stay quiet, not that it mattered, nobody could hear from outside the heavy office doors, which was an advantage right then. 
You keened as his hips rose to meet you, the base of his dick rubbing against your clit. You sank down, taking him fully, ejecting any rational or sensical thought from your head, grinding in deep, easy circles, and you could feel blunt nails digging into your hips as he held you in place, totally drunk on pleasure. 
His grip eased as you slid back up before taking him again, and he was kissing you frantically, one of his hands flattening against your breast, rolling the nipple under the rough pad of his thumb, making you whimper into his mouth.
“Faster,” he hissed, pulling back to meet your eyes, “faster, ride me faster.”
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, using them as leverage to move yourself faster, arching your back as the new speed made you see stars, and you whined, burning pleasure shooting through you at the grind of his cock against your clit.
“Good girl,” he groaned, dizzy with pleasure, “yeah, just like that.”
You could feel yourself getting close again, and you groaned his name as you swiveled your hips. Your thighs were beginning to burn with the exertion, even with just the short time you’d been moving at this pace, and when he felt you shudder, his hands found your waist, helping you along.
“That’s it, gorgeous,” Wriothesley panted, “that’s it, fuck me just like that.”
He was moving you with his own hands, easily, and you tried your best to move along with him, swiveling your hips whenever he bottomed out, and his head fell back in rapture, gasping for air. 
Your orgasm was approaching fast, and you were helpless to its pull as you sped up, chasing after it frantically, the sound that filtered through your clenched teeth one of desperation. You felt like you were losing yourself, and when you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his throat, an unrestrained groan fell past his lips, his hips bucking up with enough force to make you see stars. When his thumb pressed against your clit, you tipped over the edge hard, stilling as you clung to him, sobbing his name into the curve of his shoulder.
You tightened to a vice grip around him, throbbing as your climax crashed over you, and you heard him growl at the sensation, hips bucking, still working his cock up into your messy cunt. Before you could even start to come down from your high, you were moving, and the frigid steel of the floor met your back, rapidly heating from contact with your skin. One of his hands gripped at your leg, tucking beneath your knee and holding it up, and then he was driving forwards, hips slapping against yours as he filled you once more.
He paused, shaken by the intensity of the sensation, before his head pitched forward, breath heavy, and he was thrusting again with a renewed vigor, nails digging into your flesh. 
His name was the only thing on your tongue as he fucked you, so good it made you feel like your head was emptying itself out. His mouth found yours as he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his forearm, laid beside your head, giving him more freedom to do what he pleased with his hips. The base of his dick was rubbing against your clit once again, and you whined, squirming beneath him, but he wasn’t letting up.
“Wriothesley,” you gasped, head fuzzy, completely cock drunk as he broke the kiss to mouth at your neck, “deeper.”
He groaned, low and indulgent, and when his hips snapped forward, filling you completely, your back arched against his chest.
“Deeper?” he repeated, the baritone timbre of his voice lowered to an uneven bass, “you want it deeper? That what you want, gorgeous?”
“Please,” you sobbed, “please, give it to me.”
A low, rough chuckle was the only warning you got before he was thrusting forward, hips flush against yours, and he repeated the action, again, and again, and again, making you bite your lip to keep from wailing at the intensity of it all.
“Oh, fuck,” you heard him gasp, stricken, indulgent, “fuck, yeah, that’s it.”
It felt so good you could hardly think, and when you babbled his name, lust drunk and fucked dumb, he pressed soft kisses along the column of your throat, almost like a reward, a thank you for letting him do this to you. 
His pace was growing sloppy, but he showed no signs of letting up, and in the back of your mind, you figured was probably just going to keep on going, even if he came. It was rapidly beginning to become far too much for you, and you moaned, high and breathy, when he rammed himself all the way in, grinding his hips before pulling out less than a quarter of the way, then thrusting back in. He was so deep, and you writhed under him, fingernails scraping against the floor before you were clinging to him. He was moaning, low and breathless, the way he was moving causing you to helplessly spasm around him, forcing you violently over the edge when the base of him rubbed just right against your aching clit. 
You could feel tears, beading at your lashline as the sensitivity became maddening, but he wasn’t letting up, even as you arched and bucked and wailed beneath him, the intensity of your climax rendering you incoherent. He knew exactly what he was doing, just how to push every button he needed to, and you were halfway between deliriously begging for more or sobbing at the sensitivity. 
A string of curses left his lips as he came, gushing hot and thick inside of you, but he wasn’t even pausing, even as his groans tapered into breathy moans from the way he was overstimulating himself. You could feel him, throbbing, pulsing inside of you as he filled you, uncaring of the way his cum  dripped out of you. The sound of it, combined with the slap of skin against skin, was unbelievably lewd, but you hardly had the wherewithal to even think, let alone be any kind of embarrassed. If anything, it only drove you higher. 
“Fuck,” Wrothesley cursed, low and broken, “I need it again, please, again– fuck!”
He shifted back, grabbing at your legs and pressing them down beside you, and you thanked the Archons you were flexible as he continued, leaning forward once he had you in the position he liked and taking your body with abandon. He was hardly bothering to hold back his strength as he hammered into you, and your head fell back against the floor with a soft thud, eyes rolling back. 
You’d never felt like this before in your life. Your legs were growing sore, and your back was going to be stiff from the way he was fucking you into the floor, but you didn’t care, not as you got to listen to the way he was saying your name like a prayer, how he was caressing and kissing your body like it was sacred. Exhaustion was a heavy weight against the blurred edges of your mind, and all you could do was lay there and take it as he chased after what he so desperately needed.
It didn’t take long for him to grow close again, and he whispered your name as his end quickly approached. You yanked him into a kiss, which he returned with a groan of ecstasy, and then, with a final, deep, shuddering thrust, he was cumming. The force of it made his entire body tremble, and the sound he made was one of satiated, relieved bliss as he emptied himself out inside of you, the heat of him almost suffocating, burning you from the inside out.
His hips jerked with unconscious movements and spasms as he drifted down from the staggering height of his climax, his breath heavy, and he slumped, weakened, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. His mouth pressed lazy kisses against your skin, and you lifted a hand to run it through his hair as he finally, finally began to grow soft inside of you.
The two of you lay there, still joined, for what felt like hours, bathing in each other’s warmth and the afterglow of it all. His breath fanned across your skin, feather soft as he lifted his head to join your lips together, before he slowly pulled out, rolling off of you, dazed. 
“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice hoarse, and you arched your back, flexing your body. You winced at the soreness. You were undoubtedly going to have bruises from how hard he had been gripping you. 
“I’m fine,” you said, “are you–”
He snorted. 
“Yeah,” he said, “that uh… that did the trick.”
You laughed, a little breathlessly. You didn’t know how you’d be able to stand after that, genuinely. Your legs felt like jelly, and a deep, all consuming exhaustion was settling over your senses.
“You think it’s gone?” You asked, “the drug, I mean.”
He looked at you sidelong. “I don’t feel uncontrollably horny anymore, so I’d say so.”
Wriothesley sat up, flexing his shoulders. He tucked himself back into his pants, and then he was gathering you into his arms, rising to his feet.
“What are you doing?” You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.
“Taking you to the bath,” he said, “I have a bathtub, in my living quarters.”
You relaxed, settling into his arms. “Oh.”
His living quarters were attached to the office, through a door you’d somehow never noticed before. You were far too tired to take in any of the details of it, instead opting to close your eyes and rest your head on the nearest comfortable spot on Wriothesley’s chest, which he didn’t seem to mind at all. 
He set you in the tub, and after the water was run, you were surprised to see him climbing in along with you. It wasn’t unwelcome, and seeing him completely bare was hardly a bad thing, and you were pleasantly happy when he began to gently wash you, and once he was finished, he tugged you back, settling you against his chest.
The bathroom was silent, save for the musical sound of running water, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, settling into the comfortable atmosphere. 
“I meant what I said, you know,” Wriothesley said, and you opened your eyes to look up at him.
“What?” You asked.
“About being fond of you,” he said, “you’re… an amazing woman. I want–”
You leaned up, kissing him, and effectively giving him an answer to his thoughts. He sighed into the kiss, content, one large hand rising to cup your face, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.
“I guess Siegwinne succeeded,” you said, and Wriothesley smiled, amused.
“I guess she did.”
You stayed in the bath much longer than you expected, until the water became cold, and once that happened, Wriothesley whisked you off to the bed, tucking you under the covers after supplying you with one of his shirts to wear. You smiled when he joined you, now dressed in a pair of sweats, chest left bare, and curled up beside you, tucking you close to his chest. 
Sleep came quickly after the lights were switched off, the exhaustion from before spreading over you like wildfire. 
And, when he thought you were asleep, you felt him, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his body relaxing against yours.
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BONUS:
You were agonizingly sore. Your stiff muscles had stiff muscles, and while Wriothesley was sheepish, and apologetic, and promised he’d treat you to dinner to make it up (which you would be taking him up on), it made walking back to the infirmary the next morning a little difficult. 
What was even worse was the look on Siegwinne’s face when you entered, ruby red eyes knowing as she watched you approach.
“How’s the duke?” She asked, and you handed her the accursed thermos without saying anything.
“Fine,” you said, slumping down into your chair with a sigh. 
She smiled. “Good. Are you seeing him again tonight?”
You turned, brows furrowed. “How did you know about that?”
She shrugged, unbothered. “Someone saw you leaving his office this morning. I suppose what I put in the tea worked a little too well.”
You stared at her. “Siegwinne, you put an aphrodisiac in his tea.”
She paused, concerned. “No I didn’t. I put a supplement to further enhance his desire for you. If we’re being frank, it’s closer to a love potion. Just to get rid of any inhibitions. It’s medicine. But it isn’t meant to cause anything like–”
You rolled back your sore shoulders. “Yeah, well, it did.”
Her face went pale, but she briefly covered it up. “I… suppose I miscalculated.”
You laughed, then. Really laughed. It startled Siegwinne, who stared at you with growing concern.
“It’s fine,” you said, “whatever, Siegwinne. At least you don’t have to keep going with trying to set us up. Focus your energy on making ‘love potions’ that aren’t aphrodisiacs in humans, okay?”
She flushed, quiet, then nodded, once, her eyes taking on a determined look. You were beginning to regret saying anything. 
With a smile, and a good natured nod, she put her hands on her hips, ever the dutiful nurse.
“I’ll get right on that.”
Fin.
841 notes · View notes
em0zombie · 8 months
Text
NSFW Genshin twitter links ! PT2
  `🐈‍⬛` . ִ ֗  MDNI ! - Character mentions: Dottore, Childe, Albedo, Tighnari, Lyney
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Childe
- Lil rough, stressed Childe
- Backseat of the car fun
- JERKIN AWFFFF
Dottore
- Spanking
- Long day after work
- Messy eating amen
Albedo
- Lazy riding
- Using ur thighs !
- Fastbedo
Tighnari
- Breeding…
- Rough on ya’
- Outside fun
Lyney
- Face riding
- Magic hands !
- Lyney being needy
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PT 2 with the women coming soon (mainly fem reader w them though…!)
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malereadermaniac · 2 months
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Smug and Rough ~ Wriothesley x Male Reader
His Grace has taken a liking to you - personally inviting you to his office gets thoughts rushing through your head Top!Wriothesley x Bottom!Reader Word count: 3.6k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI
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It was common knowledge around the Fortress that The Duke had his favourites; however some people had noticed that you were placed at an even higher esteem by his grace than even the renowned Traveler and Paimon. Every single time that Wriothesley would walk into a room he would scan for you, and if your eyes met his, The Duke would ensure to greet you by name - something that other inhabitants of the Fortress had never experienced. Moments of small talk were frequent between you and the handsome man, along with being given small benefits, such as finishing your work day early, seemingly for no reason - however, unlike yourself, those around you quickly realised that rather than randomly being taken a liking to, The Duke was flirting with you instead...
You were shockingly oblivious to this however, which is fair as why would THEE Duke flirt with some petty criminal? But c'mon, it was so evident that Wriothesley was pulling out all the tricks in the bag to try to woo you! Small talk with him was always full of compliments on your looks or work ethic being thrown your way, and the body language between you two was straight out of a romance book; the taller man placing a strong hand on your shoulder and giving you the sexiest smile ever while telling you 'Your hands are too soft n pretty to be workin' for so long, take the rest of the day of'. Eventually, you had noticed the handsome man's advances, but you chose to ignore them, justifying Wriothesley's actions by way of you being delusional after catching feelings for The charming Duke; and how couldn't you of caught those feelings, this man's the whole package! Not only is Wriothesley physically attractive (with his taller, broader figure, masculine, veiny hands, muscular body and smug, sexy attitude and what not) but this man is THEE DUKE! Wriothesley is a powerful man (and he sure acts it), he owns a prison and has all these people act like submissive bitches around him, he gets paid a hefty sum and has his own building - how could you not get the hots for him!?!? But you kept those feelings inside, following your better judgment to keep them for lonely moments late at night, inside your quarters and in the comfort of your own bed...
That was until you were called to his grace's office one night. Standing in front of his office door, you feel tiny; the massive door daunting as thoughts rush through your head about what this 'meeting' could be about, are you in deep shit?! KNOCK KNOCK. You didn't mean for it to be so loud, but judging from the muffled 'Come on in!' it didn't seem too loud on the receiving end. After pushing open the door, you make your way inside of The Duke's office - noticing its size is smaller than how the outside of the building makes it seem - your eyes immediately look towards Wriothesley, who is sitting at his desk, writing on some paper. The striking man merely spares you a glance, however, once he computes that it's you inside of his office, The Duke stands up from his desk right-away and gives you a smile. "(Y/n)! Welcome to my humble office, I'm honoured" The Duke says with a wide smile as he walks around to the front of his desk and leans against it. "I should be the honoured one, Your Grace" you say with a small, nervous smile - not only is his social stature making you nervous, but his rolled sleeves showing off his muscles and scars, and his sharp-featured face are too. "Heh... I suppose so, you look rather nice tonight - as always" Wriothesley compliments, his words shooting you in the heart with Cupid's arrow, making your face feel hot. The Duke looked incredible tonight, the lighting of his office showing off every strand of his dark hair, his white streaks shining and accentuating his attractive hairstyle. The ravenette's masculine body was just barely on display for you, his rolled sleeves teasing you with His Grace's muscular arms, and his gloves having been removed for the night ensured that you could get an eyeful of Wriothesley's rough, veiny, and large hands; The Duke's body language was also incredibly attractive, his leaning figure and sexy smirk as you ramble about your day after being asked was making your brain short circuit, and damn his nonchalant and attractive voice was what really made the blood rush to your head(s)!
After talking for a little while, once the current conversation was coming to a close, you decided to fill the comfortable (yet nerve-racking) silence with the question that has been on your mind all day. "Pardon my abruptness, Your Grace, but may I ask why I've been called to your office tonight?" You ask, sounding very prim and proper as to feel somehow on The Duke's level "Surely you couldn't be that oblivious? With the way i look at you? And the special attention I give you? Haha" Wriothesley chuckles to himself, finding your innocence and oblivious nature cute and amusing. And after a moment of silence from you, within which you gave an even more endearing confused look to The Duke, he decided to clear things up for you. "Come here and I'll let you in on a secret, (Y/N)" Fuck, you liked to hear your name come out of his mouth; Wriothesley sure knows how to get you to listen, cause you were following him like a puppy. With Wriothesley back in his chair, you stood in front of him, his knees on either side of your legs as you look down expectantly at the handsome man, who looks up right back at you with a sexy smile and a glimmer in his eyes. "I have a crush on you~" Wriothesley says in a lowered voice, dragging out the 'you' to comedically sound like a schoolgirl confessing her love. "Hmph.. That's not funny, Your Grace-" you mumble, your heart-panging from the idea of the man you kinda have a thing for making a joke about that . You tried to move away from The Duke, however his large, sexy hand on your waist and the other holding your hand as he looked up at you prevented you from doing so "Stop calling me that. You can save that for the bedroom if you'd like, I'm not one to judge, but call me Wriothesley, darling" Your mouth went slightly agape at his interruption, your heart-rate increasing at the mere idea of Wriothesley reciprocating your feelings. "And I'm not joking, I've waited for this moment since the day I first met you... properly at least hah" The Duke chuckles, a smile still on his face as he brings your body closer to his, his head now resting against your abdomen as he looks up at you - FUCK HE LOOKS SO HOT! "Well... then I suppose the feeling's mutual..." you say with a chuckle, your head turning away from The Duke's as a warm heat fills your face. A wide smile makes its way onto Wriothesley's face at your response, his heart racing at the idea of finally being able to be with you after a long time of yearning and quiet pining. "Then I assume we should confirm our relationship in one way or another, don't you, my darling?" Wriothesley says with a sexy grin on his face as he removes his head from your body and instead maneuvers you to sit on his lap; manhandling you with absolute ease.
At least half an hour had gone by, that time having been spent with you on Wriothesley's lap; his strong arms wrapped around your waist, not only making sure you can't leave, but also holding your chest against his with the perfect tightness. Your crotch slowly grinding against The Duke's as your sounds of pleasure are eaten up by Wriothesley, whose lips were sealed against yours, his tongue swirling around your own and exploring your warm mouth as you both eat up each other's moans, groans, and whimpers of pleasure; courtesy of your dryhumping. Your fingers threaded through the taller man's locks as you kept your arms around his neck for support, and more soft, breathy moans escaped your lips when Wriothesley unraveled his muscular arms from your waist and moved his huge hands to grip and play with your ass. To prevent literally suffocating, your pushed your hands against The Duke's (fucking huge) chest in order to break the kiss; a thick string of saliva keeping your now plumped lips from Wriothesley's - the look on your panting, blushed face turning the man on, and the horny, hungry, panting look on Wriothesley's face turning you on. "Ha... Ha... Wanna take this... Ha.... to my quarters?" The disheveled man proposes, his hair ruined from your fingers and sticking to his sweaty forehead "Damn right I do~" You manage to get out, your lungs still searing with a desperation for oxygen. With that, Wriothesley stood up from his chair, his hands still on your ass to hold you up; your arms darting back around his neck as your legs do the same to his slutty little waist. The muscular man made his way to a door in his office and kicked the door open, locking it behind him after putting you down; now the smaller office makes sense, this man has A WHOLE BEDROOM INSIDE OF IT!
You take the opportunity to look around his room while Wriothesley locks the door - the last thing the man wants is his assistant or Sigewinne walking in. It was a nice room, simple; a couple of decorations hung up on walls, a window with documents on the sill, a king sized bed with fresh sheets, and two nightstands with some random items on them like a picture frame, a Kamera, and some books. Your brief observation of Wriothesley's room was quickly interrupted by the man himself, a brief mumble of the word 'nosy' escaping his lips as his arms envelope you once more and his lips return to their rightful place; on yours. You can feel your heart beat like crazy as blood rushes to all parts of your body, Wriothesley moving the two of you to his bed as he continually makes out with you; the two of you ending up on his bed very quickly, with you laying on your back and Wriothesley hovering over you, still kissing you. The man above you hastily removes your clothing, kissing down your body with every article of clothing he takes off of you, leaving small marks to cover and claim your body as his. Eventually, you are left completely naked below The Duke, his gaze roaming your body as he hovers above you, simply admiring you - and once he's had his fill, Wriothesley sits up on his knees above you and strips his own body of clothing, practically giving you a little show as he removes his top first to reveal his KILLER body, and then removes all else to finally show off his monster of a cock. "Heh... Like what ya' see, pretty boy?" Wriothesley says in a smug tone, giving you a sharp smirk as he looks down at you drooling over his veiny, thick, 7inch dick, as well as his rock hard 6-pack and plump pecs.
Preparing you didn't seem to take long, the two of you enjoyed every second of it so it probably took longer to loosen your hole than it felt like. Wriothesley couldn't take his eyes off of your hole, the way it tightened around his thick fingers and winked at him making his dick twitch - and you were a hot mess, moaning like a pornstar and moving your limbs uncontrollably on Wrio's bed due to his long, thick fingers fucking your hole loose and curling into your prostate. But the real fun started when Wriothesley knelt on his bed between your spread legs and placed one on each of his thick, muscular thighs; positioning his girthy dick at your hole. Starting slow, Wriothesley thrusts his dick in and out of your tight hole, his sexy voice groaning from the feeling of your warm, gummy walls around his dick; on the other hand, below the handsome man, you're moaning in rhythm with Wriothesley's thrusts, breathy whines and moans of The Duke's name escaping your throat every time his slightly curved cock pushes against your prostate. Once the desperation caught up to Wriothesley's however, things took a turn, his pace increasing in speed and in roughness as the muscular man grips your thighs with his strong hands and starts drilling his dick in and out of you, forcing your back to arch up off of the bed from the pleasure from your ass. As Wriothesley's cock pounded its shape into your hole more and more, you lost more and more control over your body; the pleasure The Duke was providing you with making your writhe in pleasure on his bed, gripping at the sheets and rolling your entire head back onto the bed, letting Wrio only see your jaw and tongue hanging out of your mouth, a view which only turned the man on more. Pleanty of praise and compliments fell out of The Duke's mouth, calling you good and pretty and tight, moaning your name out like a mantra as Wrio's thrusts became borderline sadistic, his cockhead pounding against your prostate with every thrust, milking you of precum. As the two of you kept fucking, your moans became louder and sluttier, turning Wriothesley on more and more; the view below him, of your back arched, limbs twisting, tongue hanging out, dick twitching just added on to Wrio's aching desperation for you - so much so that the man felt inclined to ensure he never forgets this moment. In the heat of the moment, Wriothesley found himself grabbing the Kamera on his nightstand and holding it out to take a selfie from above, snapping a sexy picture of his dick fucking your ass like crazy with you writhing like a bitch in heat, a condom packet in his mouth for an artistic touch (this man is so extra). You couldn't even register what was happening, your focus being on the fact that Wriothesley stopped fucking you in order to look at the freshly printed picture, so, you whine about it "Wriothesley..~ Put that down and keep makin' love t'meee" you say in a tone resembling a drunkard - which you may as well of been, Wriothesley getting you cockdrunk on his veiny dick. And this man wasn't going to say no to you - especially after being denied this pleasure for so, so long... The Duke had covered many different positions with you, having fucked you silly in doggy (with your back nearly breaking from arching down to the bed as Wrio held your arms back, shoving your face into the bed) and even fucking you in missionary for a romantic little break. Your ass was in plenty of pain after a solid 45 minuets of fucking, having been stretched out from Wrio's monster cock, your lungs were out of breath and your poor dick had been milked for all it was worth, small droplets of cum leaking out of your tip with every single one of Wriothesley's vigorous thrusts - you had already came, Wriothesley had not... HEY! This man is real good at sex, of course you'd orgasm before him!
But once the two of you had finally finished up, you both basked in the after glow; Wriothesley more so, who was feeling euphoric after shooting his thick load inside of your tight walls, you on the other hand were more so basking in the freedom from overstimulation... You were both laying on Wrio's bed, catching your breathes and cuddling - Wriothesley's big arm around your waist as his bare chest rested alongside your back. "So then... How would you rate your experience?" Wriothesley asks, a smile on his lips as he still feels happy tingles all over his body, his eyes roaming over your naked, marked up body "A one... My ass fuckin' hurts so bad!" You remark, the pain in your ass coming to the forefront of your brain now that all the pleasure had dissipated "Aww~ does that mean my dick is big?" Wriothesley teases you, his dick already starting to harden again from the thought of him overwhelming you with his size "Shut up... you were real rough too, not that I hated it" You mumble, but in the comfortable silence of Wriothesley's bedroom, he could hear every word of yours "Yeah? Let's go again then, promise I'll be gentle this time, pretty boy~" The now raw, and rugged man chuckles from his remark, his arm now removed from your waist and his hand now instead spreading your cheeks and his masculine fingers gently playing with your rim, his cum leaking out slowly "I'll even use my tongue if you want" The man adds, the horny thought coming to him straight from his now fully re-hardened dick You couldn't deny the fact that his suggestion definitly sounded apealing - and that's how the two of you ended up going for another, more chill round of oral! In order to let you recover, Wriothesley stuck to his word and ate you out. This man made you all comfortable in his bed, put hundreds of pillows behind your neck and back, he laid between your legs and went to fucking TOWN. Your fingers were tightly pulling on the man's fluffy hair as Wrio lapped at your loose hole, shoving his tongue inside and pushing the warm, wet muscle against your walls as his thumb rubbed your rim gently, his other hand either spreading your cheeks for easier access or jerking off your dick. To say you were back to a moaning mess would be an understatement; you were in so much pleasure, Wriothesley can really use his damn tongue! This man didn't even give two shits that he could still taste himself inside of you, he just used his spunk as lube to get his tongue inside of your hole easier! As your moans of his name became louder and breathier, and your dick twitched in The Duke's rough hand, Wriothesley knew you were just about to cum once more - so this man took his hand from your spreading your cheeks and rubbed your underthigh soothingly, working you through your orgasm as his tongue assaulted your prostate and his veiny hand gently jerked you off. With a loud, lewd slurp of his spit, Wrio sat up from your tasty hole and looked as you in your afterglow-ish state - his hair messy and his chin covered in his spit n cum "Ha... You enjoy that... Ha.. Sweet-thing?~" Wriothesley mumbles, his voice dripping in sex and smug. "Ha.... fuck yeah... I did" you say in between laboured breathes "Care toooo... Repay the favour?" The handsome man says with a chuckle as he holds his massive dick at the base and swings it around.
The sounds echoing around the room were even more obscene and filthy than before. You were positioned on your knees on the floor, at the foot of Wriothesley's bed, The Duke sitting on the edge of his bed with his fat cock shoved inside of your throat. You pleasantly surprised the tall man with your oral skills, being able to take a dick like his was not exactly easy as pie, but you sure made it work! What you couldn't take your hands would work on, and what was in your mouth felt heaven on earth, your mouth warm, wet, and slimy as your tongue bathed and cleaned Wrio's dick - his leftover cum from early along with his natural musk tasting salty yet so fucking addictive. Loud slurps echoed from your mouth as your spit trickled down The Duke's girthy cock, down his veins and covering his thick, scarcely pubed balls which were resting against your chin (in-turn covering your chin in spit n leftover cum). The other lewd sounds harmonising with your own were from Wriothesley himself, groans of pleasure and moans of your name ringing pleasurably inside of your ears as Wrio's fingers tightly held your hair, making you look even more disheveled and slutty as you gagged on Wriothesley's shaft. Eventually, you felt a warm stream of thick jizz shoot inside of your mouth, Wriothesley moaning above you as his naked body shined from his sweat and the lighting of the room; he looked fucking godly. And as the panting, blissful-looking man held your head up with his hand, he pulled his fat cock out of your mouth; Wrio ensured that you didn't swallow yet, wanting to see his cum in your mouth, holding your face up to look him in the eyes while you struggled to keep his thick cum from falling out of your mouth. SNAP another picture taken with his Kamera, this time of you on your knees, his finger forcing you to 'smile' as his thick spunk coveres your teeth, lips and tongue; his hairy thighs n feet, as well as half of his semi-hard dick making a cameo alongside you. The kinky Duke grins and chuckles as he looks at the freshly printed picture, then looks back at you; who still has his cum in your mouth. "I suppose this makes us official now, huh?" Wriothesley says with a grin, squishing your cheeks with his rough thumb and other fingers to make you swallow. You grimace physically at the feeling and taste, but give him a breathy 'yeah... If you want I guess', teasing the handsome man above you.
1K notes · View notes
blitzyn · 5 months
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a different method final pt
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teacher!zhongli x m!reader
request: drop by to ask will there ever be a chance for part 3 with teacher zhongli? i dont know man. him and reader are so cute together. maybe i am crazy??? wanna see reader actually tries his best and gets his reward-
part one | part two
a/n -> oh my god i need francis mosses and wriothesley to fuck me right this INSTANT
wc -> 4k
cw -> praise, anal fingering, anal sex, mating press, desk sex, semi-public sex, teacher zhongli, student reader, not beta read
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You were nervous. Jitters ran along the length of your spine and pooled in your chest, leaving a deep cavity that filled with anxiety. Why were you so anxious in the first place? It’s just a test. You’ve taken plenty of them during the course of your life.
You tried to play it cool, masking your face with a facade of nonchalance, hoping no one could see how clammy your hands were getting or your heartbeat, or the sweat rolling down—oh god was someone looking at you? Could they see through you? What if they could read your mind? Did they know that you were secretly trying to get your teacher to fuck you again?
You forced to stop yourself from physically deflating in relief when they looked away. Seemed like they were just looking around the room in an attempt to search for a hint or an answer to the question they were on. Right. The test. You’d finished it not too long ago, and now you were in the overthinking stage, wondering if you could’ve worded something better or if a different answer was right, but you forced yourself to calm the fuck down. You studied for this (surprisingly) and you were sure that at least half of your answers were correct. Hopefully.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard your teacher speak, notifying the class that there was five minutes left, and you could see a few write faster as they tried to finish on time. Those five minutes felt like an eternity, watching the agonizingly slow ticking of the clock above the door leisurely make its way to four, then three, then two, one… thirty seconds, and…
Finally!
You took your time packing up, watching your classmates rush out of the door, eager to leave the boring room. It wasn’t until the last person made their way out did you walk up to your teacher’s desk, fiddling with the strap of your bag.
“May I help you?” He questioned, offering you a brief glance as he reached over to grab the pile of test papers. It was frustrating how he could just ignore your past… ordeals like they were nothing, but you were determined to claim your keep.
“Can you, uh, grade my paper? Now, I mean,” you requested, trying to fight off your growing eagerness, but it seemed that it didn’t matter when he quirked an eyebrow. He gave you an unconvinced look, leaning back on his chair to properly look at you, searching your eyes for something. “Please,” you hastily added, hoping it’d be enough to convince him.
“Why not wait until next week?” He seemed to have found what he was looking for as he relaxed his expression, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is there something urgent?”
“No, it’s just…” you trailed off, pursing your lips. You weren’t sure how to explain without sound too eager, but you were almost ninety percent sure he knew why you wanted him to grade it now. “I wanna see how I did. ‘Cause… I studied this time. So…”
An intrigued glint shone in his golden eyes, and his head bobbed in a slow, understanding nod. He returned to the stack and scanned through the list of names until he found yours, pulling out the answer sheet to look over. It was silent for a while, save for the occasional scratch of his pen and the obnoxious tick-tock of the clock. You crossed your arms across your chest and examined the room absentmindedly, finding it too weird to watch him grade in this silence.
“You’ve done well,” he suddenly spoke, the richness of his voice gently guiding you out of your thoughts. “Congratulations.”
You saw that he rotated the paper to you, letting you look at the numbers that adorned the white page. 47/50, it read, marking this your highest grade yet.
“That’s good,” you hummed, risking a glance up at him, only to find him already watching you expectantly.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He questioned, and you could’ve sworn that he had the faintest of smirks. It was gone as quick as you saw it, but you were sure it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. You paused, feeling the uncomfortable weight of embarrassment creeping in your mind, stopping the words on the tip of your tongue. What were you so nervous about? You did good and everyone knew he didn’t go back on his word.
“You said you’d reward me if I did good,” you reminded, leaning forward a touch too eagerly.
“Did I?” He replied, his expression unchanging even when it was clear what you wanted. “The reward was the knowledge and understanding of this unit. Are you not satisfied?”
Fuck.
“Oh. Uh,” you were mortified—how could you not be? Technically, he didn’t specify what the prize would be. You just assumed it’d include him fucking you like the last two times. You stared at him, pursing your lips, not really bothering to hide the obvious displeasure in your face. “If I say no, will I get something else?”
The corners of his lips raised in a smug smile as he intertwined his fingers together, resting them atop the smooth wood of his desk. You noticed the familiar glint of amusement in his eyes and groaned softly. He was just messing with you.
“I suppose so,” he said, beckoning you closer to him with a refined hand. He flattened it along the curve of your hip, gently guiding you to the edge of his desk as he stood up to press himself against you. “You’ve done well today. You must’ve been very determined to get what you wanted, hm?”
You nodded slightly, almost shyly, shuddering at the feeling of his hand sliding down your pelvis to palm at your crotch. He was (not so) surprised to have felt you already hardening under his touch, but he didn’t comment on it, instead giving your cock an experimental squeeze. Your knees nearly buckled, grateful to have the desk supporting your weight as he stroked and explored your body.
“You’re more sensitive than the previous times we’ve done this,” he noted, leaning back to slot his thigh between your own and tilt your bashful head up. His grip was firm, unrelenting, raising goosebumps along your arms at his—frankly strange—strength. You hardly paid it any heed, of course. It just added to his appeal. “Have you been anticipating this moment since then?”
He refused to let you look away, tightening his grip on your chin to make you meet his golden eyes. You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before steeling your nerves. He said you could have this, so you were going take it.
“Yeah,” you replied, rolling your hips into the palm of his hand needily. You bit your lip at the jolt of electricity that traveled up your spine, sending your senses into overdrive. You could smell his cologne—it was rich and smooth, subtle and fitting for a man like him. He was all you could feel, hear, and see as his hand made its way to the front of your pants, deftly undoing the button to tug them down.
“My, I can’t imagine how pent up you must be to be this aroused already,” he teased, his cheeks raised in a minuscule smirk. He swiftly pulled his gloves off and ran his hands ran over the curve of your thighs this time, sliding along the underside to lift you onto the desk. You tensed when the cold surface met your heated skin, but it was soon forgotten when you watched him slide your boxers off, breath hitching as he wrapped his hand around your cock.
He pressed his thumb onto the sensitive head, giving it a quick rub before lifting it, noticing the thin string of precum connecting his finger to you. He tightened his hold again to start jerking you off, listening intently to the slick noises and your breathy moans. He could feel his own dick beginning to harden, straining against the fabric of his slacks, but he ignored it for the sake of pleasuring you.
His touch was addicting. Hypnotizing. Entrancing. Anything and everything under the sun because you couldn’t get enough of how damn good he was. He knew just how tight to squeeze, the right pace, what made you shudder and squirm. The build-up was slow and delicious, clouding over your mind until your thoughts were hardly coherent enough to speak out.
“Damn—you’re… you’re good,” you shakily panted, eyes darting between his warm, strong hand and his own irises. Your cock throbbed, twitching at the sound of his low, amused chuckle. You clutched at the edge of the desk hard enough to make your hands shake, thighs flexing as you writhed. Though, you were careful enough not to accidentally kick him.
“I’m flattered you think so,” he responded, moving himself so that his hip pressed one of your thighs wider. He felt you hook your leg around his waist and tighten when he moved his hand away to prod his fingertips against your lips, wordlessly demanding entry. Eagerly, you complied, opening your mouth to let him press onto your tongue and gather your saliva.
You hummed at the feeling before closing your lips around them, gently sucking on them as you gauged his reaction. You couldn’t catch his overall expression shifting, but you did see his eyebrow raise the slightest bit and feel his cock throb against your ass. He let out a breath when he felt the suction alongside your tongue swirling around his skin, coating his fingers in your saliva. He pushed them further down, resulting in a soft gag from you. He held them there for a moment longer before pulling away, watching you break the thin trail that connected you to him with a swift swipe of your tongue over your slick lower lip.
Without missing a beat, he reached down, and you were fully expecting to feel him prod at your hole, but his hand targeted the handle of one of his drawers. You huffed impatiently and rolled your eyes when he pulled out a bottle of lube, listening to the sound of the cap being flipped open.
“Was the whole finger thing really necessary?” You grumbled, gasping slightly when he tugged your hips forward just enough so your ass hung off of the edge. You gave him a weak glare when he poured some of it on your asshole directly, tensing and shuddering at the sudden temperature drop.
“No,” he replied smoothly, easing his fingers into you. “But surely you didn’t expect to be the only one enjoying himself?” He questioned rhetorically, pumping them in and out slow enough so that the wet squelching was the only thing you could hear. “I also had no intention of using my saliva this time.”
“Could’ve started by now,” you said under your breath, mildly bitter that he had you gagging on his fingers just ‘cause he felt like it.
“Have patience,” he murmured, jabbing his slender fingers into your prostate in response to your vulgar words. He jerked you off with his free hand, paying close attention to each of your reactions, down to the minuscule twitch. “I know you can do that. If you can pass a simple test, how much more is waiting to you?”
You remained silent, swallowing the impending retort. You huffed through your nose, watching his hands expertly working your body better than you’d ever have. Your hips jerked and your cock pulsed rhythmically whenever he curled his slender fingers into that one spot that had you seeing stars. It was hard to keep quiet, and you were sure he was making this as difficult as he possibly could for you.
The heat in your belly intensified with every second—with every jab to your sensitive prostate and stroke along your painfully hard dick. Your labored breaths came out in quick pants, hitching when he teased the leaking tip. You were fully expecting him to take his time, to feel the gradual buildup, so when he suddenly speeds up, you accidentally let out a loud moan.
He gave you a sharp look, reminding you that you couldn’t afford to be loud despite not letting up. You swiftly clamped a hand over your mouth, weakly glaring at him for the sudden onslaught of stimulation, but you could hardly keep up the attitude for long. You squeezed your eyes shut and squirmed, nostrils flaring at the effort as your hips jerked every so often.
“F–Fuck, sir,” you panted, your eyebrows furrowing when you looked up at him pleadingly. “I’m gonna… m’gonna cum.”
“Go ahead,” Zhongli murmured, watching you intently. And, like his rich, smooth voice was a trigger, you did. You bit down on your lip so hard you nearly punctured it, unable to completely muffle your moans as the sounds slipped past your hand. He didn’t scold you for it, instead deciding to continue to move his hands, milking out as much cum out of your cock as he could before you started to whine at the budding overstimulation.
He let you take a moment to gather yourself, shifting to grab a tissue and wipe his fingers clean. He turned back to look at you when you sighed, leaning back to place most of your weight on your palms.
“Do you need a break?” He questioned, placing his hands back on your bare thighs. He was in no rush despite having his painfully hard dick straining against his pants, and you were internally impressed with his self control.
“No,” you replied without missing a beat, hooking your knee around his waist to tug him closer, but he hardly budged. “Fuck me. Now. I’ll be fine,” you urged. It seemed that demands were your strong suit this time around.
“Learning to have patience will benefit you greatly,” he said, and you watched the way he took a deep breath in a manner you knew meant that he was about to go on a long tangent of life lessons or something along the line. You gave him a pleading look, to which he acknowledged with yet another subtle, smug smirk. Good lord, when he wasn’t in a serious setting or teaching, he could be a pain in the ass. Literally and figuratively.
“Stop doing that,” you huffed, but you could hardly maintain that (already weak) sense of annoyance when he moved to undo his pants, eyes quickly and instinctively making their way towards his cock. You could see the tip of it beading with precum and the way it flushed an angry red.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow what you’re trying to imply,” he responded, all of his amusement fizzling away to make room for the faux ignorance. He reached over to grab the bottle of lube to pour a generous amount onto his palm and rub it along his dick, creating quiet squelching sounds that, now that you thought about it, made you cringe.
“So you just casually have lube laying around?” You questioned, looking back up at him curiously like you weren’t about to have sex. You had a strange relationship, honestly.
“I got it recently. Based on your reaction towards our last session together, it was easy to assume that you’d make a genuine effort,” he said, wiping most of the lube off his hand with a tissue before hefting your thighs up his broad shoulders. “You’re quite predictable.”
You didn’t bother to refute this time, wincing slightly at the tension to your lower back. “Ow—careful,” you hissed, shifting to get comfortable when you paused suddenly, feeling the head of his cock press against your asshole.
“You’ll be fine,” he gently assured, resting his free hand beside your head. “Bear with it.”
He pushed forward—gently this time, unlike the way he so roughly shoved himself inside you like the first time. You tensed regardless, mildly uncomfortable with the burn that came with his entry.
“Relax,” he murmured, rubbing a hand on your thigh in a comforting manner, coaxing your relaxation forth. He sank in slowly, breathing in deeply as he fought the urge to shove himself in one go. It felt better this way, he realized, taking his time instead of rushing it out of the sake of irritation. “You’re doing well. Just breathe.”
You nodded sheepishly, resting your head back against his desk. Your chest fell and rose rhythmically, making yourself relax to make things easier for both you and him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip and grunted when he finally buried himself all the way inside you, listening to him grunt in satisfaction.
“Fuck… is it me, or did you literally get bigger?” Your voice was strained, breathy and shaky. Your legs tightened slightly around his shoulders, staring at him needily.
“No, nothing about me has changed,” he chuckled softly, finding your state humorous. “But you have. You’ve improved your character within this room and proved that you’re more than capable of passing my class. You’ve made me proud, [L.Name].”
“Oh. Haha. Really?” You laughed awkwardly, turning your head to the side bashfully. Butterflies fluttered within your stomach at the praise, feeling a sudden rush of giddiness that you were hardly able to hide. “I guess I am doing better, huh?”
He nodded in response, his golden eyes softening. “I will begin now.”
You gasped, instinctively looking down to watch him pull out a bit and softly push back inside. You shuddered at the drag of his cock against your prostate, biting your lip once again to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your throat.
He moved rhythmically, his gaze locked on your blissful expression. His cock throbbed as he slid in and out, again and again, targeting your prostate with pinpoint precision. “You’re taking me so well,” he muttered, grunting softly, your soft moans mixing in with the wet, gentle slaps that filled the room.
“Shit—don’t say stuff like that,” you stubbornly said, slapping a hand over your mouth when he jabbed his dick up against your prostate with a sharp thrust.
“No? But is it—” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing when he felt you squeeze tighter around him, letting out a strained, labored breath. He tightened his fingers into fists that had his knuckles turning white, pressing his hips against your ass firmly for a moment before resuming. “But is it not the truth?”
You rolled your eyes, using your lack of momentum to kick his back with the heel of your foot. “You talk too much…”
“Is that so?” He retorted, a faint smirk gracing his features as he bent down lower, brushing his lips against your ear, and ignored the strained grunt you let out at the added tension to your back. “Then what would you like me to do?”
You hesitated, shivering pleasantly as his breath ghosted the shell of your ear. “Harder. Go harder.” The two of you remained silent for a beat, and you quickly realized he was expecting something else. “Please.”
“Good boy. Just because I’m doing this for you doesn’t mean you simply forget your manners,” he scolded lightheartedly.
And, like clockwork, your jaw snapped open to argue, but he wouldn’t allow it this time. He rammed his cock so hard in you stars danced through your vision, your body tensing and clenching down tighter around his cock. His breaths came out shallow and labored, focused on churning your insides to mush while you tried your damn best to keep yourself from getting too loud.
“Fuck—oh my God, sir, please—” you choked out, hands scrambling for purchase. You covered your mouth with one and buried your fingers in his hair with the other, inadvertently tugging on the strands and messing up his ponytail. “Wait…!”
“Is this not what you wanted?” He rhetorically questioned, his voice low, not needing to raise his volume over your surprised and needy moans. “A shame,” he continued, finding no desire to let up any time soon. He panted harshly into your neck, letting his eyes squeeze shut as he savored the feeling of your tight hole fluttering and pulsing around him. This closeness was unwarranted and wrong, he of all people knew that. But as you whimpered and whined into his ear, he also found that he didn’t mind it.
All that could be heard were the resounding slaps and your poorly concealed noises. The desk creaked slightly, straining under your combined weight as he kept you pinned down with his body, ignoring the quiet rustle of paper as a few fluttered off the desk.
“Fuck, m’so close, sir,” came your muffled words, eyes rolling in ecstasy as you dragged your hand down to clutch tightly at his back, fingers desperately curling into his clothes. “G-Gonna cum—don’t stop!”
“Quiet,” he shushed you, giving one of your thighs a brief pinch before he grabbed hold of your weeping cock to stroke it in time with his movements. Slick sounds emanated from you as he jerked you off with dexterity, stoking the raging heat in your belly. “I know you can lower your voice. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”
You meekly shook your head, letting go of his back to place both hands over your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling yourself jolt up and down as he rammed himself into your ass rhythmically. Your legs tightened slightly around his neck, searching for something to cling to. You were so close and you knew he was aware of it. He refused to let up, pushing you higher and higher, groaning when you tightened around him reflexively.
“Fuck!” You cried out, your hands hardly able to catch your voice as you came hard, body shuddering and convulsing. He squeezed your dick, slowing down considerably to help you through your orgasm, sweat rolling down his temple at the shared body heat and the effort to please you.
He pulled out with a grunt, letting one of your legs fall off his shoulder as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off, sighing in satisfaction when he finally came. You shivered, resting an arm over your eyes in exhaustion as the two of you basked in the afterglow, chest heaving up and down as you panted hard.
“You’ve done well,” he murmured, cleaning his hands off with a tissue to massage your trembling thighs, giving you a moment to recompose yourself. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks…” you replied, taking your arm off your face to look at him. He was disheveled--the most unkempt you've ever seen him. You sighed gratefully when he moved your remaining leg down to grab another tissue and wipe off his and your cum that landed on your stomach.
"Here, take this." He handed you a bottle of water, fixing himself as soon as you accepted it. "It'll do you well to rehydrate yourself, especially after an intensive session such as this."
You drank a generous amount, wiping your mouth after you put the bottle down to retrieve your pants and underwear when he handed them to you. "Thanks. Again."
"Of course." He nodded, giving you more space to put your clothes back on, watching you with a soft expression. "It's getting late. Would you like me to escort you home?"
"I'm okay. I live, like, what, ten minutes away by foot?" You shook your head, wincing slightly at the ache in your back. You stood up and stretched, yawning, as you made your way away from the desk. You noticed a piece of paper on the floor and bent down to grab it, flipping it over to place atop the surface, realizing that it was your test that fell. Staring at the red numbers for a moment longer, you were overcome with a sense of embarrassment.
Man, the things you'd do for dick.
"Don't expect any leniency from me, [L.Name]," he said, walking over towards the window to open it, letting a fresh breeze carry the smell of sex outside. "My demands still remain."
"I know," you sighed, feigning dejection before you grabbed your stuff, walking towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'll see you then."
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mourningwings · 1 year
Text
. . . ꨄ a yearning man ;
(nsfw character insert)
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he does not deserve you. but he wants you.
gods be damned, did he want you.
and truly, he did have you, but only in the ways you’d allow. the ways he would always follow because it was you, because it was by your hand, but never how he yearned.
never how he yearned to taste or touch you like a man starved.
never how, if you would only let him, let him love you instead of the easy fucking you did on occasion, he yearned to kneel between your legs and take you straight to heaven above, nose right to your nethers as your head might tip back enough to see stars.
never how he yearned to map your body out with his tongue, understanding it like his own as he took you to tears and reduced you to begging for the pleasure he’d grace you with over and over and over again.
you deserved even a yearning man, he thinks.
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— asmodeus, barbatos, blade, childe, diluc, kaedehara kazuha, kamisato ayato, malleus draconia, neuvillette, pierro, simeon, welt, zhongli (or whoever you'd like!)
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heavensfqll Ⓒ 2O23
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mackjlee9 · 1 year
Text
Scaramouche Brainrot
Warning; afab!scaramouche, cunningulus, dacryphilia, cockwarming, praising, size kink, dumbification. I... I'm projecting, sorry y'all. 2nd person narration.
Masterlist.
Genshin Impact
[1st scenario]
He was just sitting there on the couch, legs spread wide open while reading a book, as if he didn't have a care in the world, unbothered by everything occurring around him.
You, however, were really bothered by it.
The fabric of his shorts wasn't skin tight, it was rather loose, which caused more skin exposure in the area of his upper inner thighs, making you lick your lips and take a deep breath at the sight. What? You weren't just gonna keep going with your day when he looked like that, enticing you to eat him out like a starved man?
Because that's exactly what you wanted.
Your feet took you to the couch, kneeling on the cushions and placing your hands on his soft, pale thighs, keeping his legs spread open for you.
Scaramouche looked away from his book, his confused stare looking directly at you, but your eyes were stuck staring between his legs, and he instantly felt self-conscious, attempting to close his legs but your grip prevented him from doing so.
"(M/n)-?" His words were cut off by a gasp, feeling your fingers pressing over his clothed pussy, gently and slowly rubbing over his clit. The book he was holding slipped from his grip and fell on the floor with a thud, closing on itself, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth.
The dark look in your eyes sent shivers down his spine, the feeling of your hands inching closer up to where your fingers disappeared under his shorts, feeling your touch on him, only being separated by a thin piece of clothing made his pussy clench in anticipation.
The moment you noticed the blush on his face, it was over, you weren't gonna tease him and yourself any more than this, you needed it.
You needed to have your mouth on his pussy, sucking on his clit and lapping at his wet folds.
Pulling his shorts and underwear off his body, you growled at the sight of his wet and glistening cunt, gripping his thighs and leaning down, slightly lifting his hips to your face, eagerly latching onto him.
"Fuck...!" Scara's hand moved to hold onto your hair pulling on it as his thighs pressed around your head, squirming on the couch and releasing lewd and erotic high-pitched whines that only fueled you to keep going.
Your tongue flicked his clit a few times, looking up at him as his mouth opened wide, crying out your name with need.
"K-keep going, please~" your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his words, groaning as you wrapped your lips around his clit, sucking on it and hearing the choked moans Scara released.
"You don't need to tell me, puppy," you muttered before moving down and lapping at his folds, pushing your tongue inside his twitching hole, whining at the sweet taste of his juices on your tongue, "Fuck- cum for me, pup, cum on my tongue," you tightened your grip on his thighs, feeling his legs trembling as they opened and closed around your head, his hands pulling on your hair a little too rough, but honestly? You didn't care.
You wanted to feel him cum on your tongue over and over again.
[2nd scenario]
Damn-
He looked so good when he cried.
Feeling your cock deep inside his twitching and dripping pussy, whining 'cause you weren't moving, you weren't pounding your cock in him, and he didn't like that, you felt too good inside him to just have you staying still. He needed you to move and fuck him until he forgets his name, he can't handle the quivering of his body and definitely can't hold back his tears.
You're just there, your arms holding yourself up, keeping him trapped under your body, nuzzling his neck and leaving small kisses on his skin, paying close attention to his pulse, sighing in contentment.
"So good for me, pup..." Scara whined and moved his arms to press them against your chest, pushing you back and letting out a whimper when he felt your cock shifting inside him at the movement.
"Move... Fuck~ just move..." Your eyes observed his flushed face for a few moments, reaching your hand up to his cheek, wiping his tears away with your thumb. The sight of him crying clearly turned you on, the throbbing of your cock making him arch his back, more tears falling down his face, "(M/n)..."
"It's okay, baby, you're doing so well for me right now," you lean down and place small kisses on his tear-stained cheeks, his red nose and his eyelids eliciting a broken sob from him, "Think you can handle a little while longer, puppy?"
Scara looked at you, sniffing and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, "But I want you to fuck me now..." He mumbled barely audible to you, and you had to close your eyes and take a deep breath or you would've done what he told you to.
"I will do anything you want, if you can handle it for five more minutes, how's that sound, hm?" He pouts and blinks, a few tears falling down his temples.
"Fine~"
"That's my good boy, so obedient for me."
[3rd scenario]
At first, Scara wasn't the biggest fan of the size difference between you two, he felt almost too small compared to you.
Well, that was before he knew how good could fuck his needy cunt.
He was just barely holding onto your shoulders, leaving scratch marks that you would not even bother covering up, holding him with ease against the wall.
"That's right, pup, say my name and mark me, let everyone know I'm all yours, let them hear how good I fuck you," Scara whined and clung to you, feeling your cock pumping in and out of his small body, tilting his head forward to look down at the connection between your bodies.
The obvious outline of your length on his lower belly made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, his trembling legs wrapping around your hips, keeping you buried deep inside his pulsing pussy, feeling it wanting to milk every drop of your cum.
"Fuck me, more... I need more of your cock, please~!"
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the-scythes-pen · 2 years
Text
Just a Little More
Alhaitham x Reader with a surprise guest at the end
Smut; fingering, exhibitionism, squirting.
---------------
"Unless you want Kaveh to see you like this," a deep, husky voice rung in your ear, "then I suggest you keep quiet."
You had to hold back a breathy gasp as you felt the tips of Alhaitham's lithe fingers push the fabric of your panties between your folds, teasing your entrance with the material and the pressure of his fingers as he drags his pads slowly up and down your hole. You could already tell you were soaking wet.
"Ugh, I'm always the one to clean up around here!!" You could hear Kaveh shout from the kitchen, "and why am I always the one to have to cook dinner!? Why can't you cook for once?!"
Alhaitham paid no mind to the nagging from his roommate; instead, his chin rested upon your shoulder as he pressed his chest into your back, an arm around your waist to hold you still as his fingers danced along your sex. You yourself could barely listen to Kaveh; both hyper aware of his presence yet too lost in the bliss of feeling the Scribe's touch. Your mind felt muddled, foggy; too lost in the fog of arousal to really focus on anything except Alhaitham.
His fingers were splayed across your folds, pressing into you despite the delicate touch of his middle finger barely ghosting over your clothed clit. The tip of it running slow, wide circles just around the edge of the bud, obviously trying to draw out your need.
"'Haitham... please..." You managed to whisper. What you were asking for, whether it was for him to just touch you already or whether you wanted him to stop- you weren't sure. All the Scribe responded with was a hum; one of satisfaction and one of encouragement, as if to say "go on, tell me what you want".
You could hear the banging of pots and pans along with more irritated grumbling coming from the kitchen. You squirmed in Alhaitham's hold, your hands clawing at his forearms as you tried to steady your breathing and your mind.
"Please... J-Just touch me already..." You mumbled, desperately, and Alhaitham let out an amused huff before you felt his lips connect with the side of your neck and his fingers remove themselves from your sex. You almost whined when you felt his hand remove itself from under the waistband of your pants.
"If you want more, you're going to have to do it my way." He said huskily; his other arm now releasing your waist only for both his hands to find the waistband of your pants, thumbs hooking into both it and your panties before attempting to drag them downward.
"W-Wait-! Kaveh-"
"He'll be a while. He needs to be constantly watching the pot to make sure it turns out well. You'll be fine... unless of course, you want him to see you like this."
You shifted, unsure of how to proceed until you heard the water running from the sink in the kitchen. Surely Alhaitham would be merciful and let you finish quickly... right?
You bit your lip, lifting your hips up so the Scribe could pull down your pants and underwear. Except he didn't stop at your thighs, or your knees... He kept going, and before you knew it you were helping him pull your clothes completely off; your slick sex now exposed to the warm air of the living room.
"J-Just be quick..." You mumbled, to which the Scribe let out another hum before he readjusted you in his lap, putting your legs overtop of his to spread you open.
If Kaveh were to walk in, he would get the most perfect view of your wet pussy.
Alhaitham's arm snaked around your waist again to pull you flush against him, while his other hand returned to it's rightful place over your sex. A single finger rubbed overtop of your labia, dragging oh-so-deliciously up and down your folds as if to tease you into begging him to just fuck you already.
You nearly jolted in his grasp when you felt the pad of his finger push into the top of your slit, slipping past your folds to press into the erected bud that begged for attention. He spread apart your folds with his index and ring fingers, while the very tip of his middle finger ghosted around your clit in circles.
"Where did you even put the onions?!" Kaveh shouted from the kitchen. You could hear the sound of a knife on wood; the rhythmic chopping of ingredients complimenting the sound of a sizzling pot.
"Where I usually put them." Alhaitham responded coolly, as if he didn't have you spread wide open for anyone to see as he touched you so lewdly. You had to stifle a moan as you suddenly felt him push his finger harshly into your clit, suddenly rubbing intense circles into the bud.
Damned bastard wanted you to moan. To alert Kaveh to your predicament.
"They aren't there-! Oh, nevermind..."
And just like that, the Scribe's touch was gentle again. His middle finger back to barely touching you; merely a whisper of a touch around your clit. You whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, but Alhaitham was quick to rectify that. His fingerpad pushed back the hood of your clit, gently rubbing horizontally across the even more sensitive area at the base of the bud. You squirmed in his hold again, feeling your pussy ache to be filled.
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you? Not that I mind, I just didn't expect you to be this aroused just by me touching your clit." He said lowly into your ear, causing you to whine as he pushed his finger downwards to your entrance, collecting the slick that coated you before returning to the sensitive base of your clit.
"You're so wet for me, aren't you? Perhaps I should do this more often."
You couldn't help but continue to squirm, desperate for more stimulation then just the gentle touch of his finger. You wanted- needed more- so much more. Your hips bucked upward, causing Alhaitham to chuckle under his breath.
"You really are quite needy today, aren't you? Very well, I guess I can indulge you."
Suddenly his ring finger removed itself from the side of your cunt, joining his middle finger in rubbing over your entrance. Your breath halted as you anticipated the plunge of his fingers into your needy pussy.
"I know you're desperate, but try to keep quiet, would you?"
And just like that, his fingers were buried to the hilt between your walls. You could barely hold back your moan.
His fingers dragged themselves back out, the now slick pads running up your entrance and over your clit before pushing back downwards and back inside your cunt. He pushed them firmly against your upper wall, pushing them slowly deeper within you before dragging them back out again. This time, he didn't move to drag them over your clit, instead he pushed them back inside. Your cunt greedily sucked them in as if your life depended on it.
You could hear the sizzling and spitting of a boiling pot, and the muffled sound of Kaveh humming to himself as he cooked. Your walls clenched tighter around Alhaitham's fingers.
"I wonder what got you so worked up. Was it that I decided to take you here on the couch? Were you just that desperate for my attention? Or.... do you like the thought of Kaveh seeing you like this?"
Your eyes squeezed shut as your cunt betrayed your thoughts, squeezing around his fingers again at the thought.
"I wonder what he would say if he were to see you, his dear friend, spread open and being fingered like this..."
His fingers pushed faster into your messy cunt, now angling more upwards so he could repeatedly jab the tips into your g-spot. You let out a quiet moan as he progressively started to speed up.
"Do you think he would like to watch? Perhaps he'd even like to join? He hasn't brought home anyone since he moved in; I'm sure he's almost as desperate as you."
You couldn't help it- your mouth hung open as you let out strained gasps and moans. You tried to keep quiet, to keep your noises in check, but even if you managed to remain completely silent- the squelching of his thrusts into your wet pussy would have filled the quiet room regardless.
"Alhaitham-!" You whisper-shouted, "slower, it's too loud....!" Your fingernails dug into his forearms as your pussy clenched around him again.
"I don't see how that's my problem."
"Alhaitham-!" You let out a gasp, a loud one, as his pace sped up even more. The very top of his palm now laid flush against your clit, rubbing into it as he pounded into your spongy upper wall.
Fuck, he was going to make you cum hard. You could feel it building faster and faster with each passing second.
"When do you think (Y/N) will be here? Shouldn't they have arrived by now?" Kaveh shouted from the kitchen.
"Oh, I think they'll be cumming any minute now."
You would have scowled at the double entendre if you weren't so close; your body hanging on the very precipice of orgasm. You squirmed in Alhaitham's hold; you tried to keep your legs open despite how desperately they wanted to close, you tried to keep your desperate mewls in check lest Kaveh hear you, you tried-
Your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. You gasped, now clawing at Alhaitham's arm for him to stop lest you be discovered, your legs desperately trying to close but being pushed even wider apart as the Scribe pushed his own legs apart.
You squirmed, the footsteps just outside the doorway now, but your bucking hips and desperately fluttering pussy gave away just how close you were; as if each step Kaveh took to getting closer to seeing you was pushing you over the edge.
Alhaitham's fingers sped up, his entire arm now moving with the force of every thrust. There was no doubt that Kaveh could hear the wet clicking of your pussy from where he was now.
"Cum."
It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order.
"Hey, what's that-"
You squeezed your eyes shut as they met the ruby hues of Kaveh's; throwing your head to the side to avoid his gaze as you came hard around Alhaitham's fingers. The hand he had around your waist swiftly moved up to grab your jaw and forcefully turn your head back towards Kaveh; and your eyes peeked open just enough to see the stupefied look on the architect's face as he watched you cum. As he watched you squirt; the force of Alhaitham's thrusts causing the fluid to gush out of you and soak into the fabric of the sofa below you.
Kaveh's face went beet red. His eyes were locked on the way your cunt greedily took Alhaitham's fingers.
You panted hard, your body covered in sweat as you started to come down from such an intense high. You shut your eyes again to avoid Kaveh's embarrassing stare.... as if you didn't enjoy the way he seemed mesmerized by your intense and messy orgasm.
Alhaitham clicked his tongue as his fingers slowed their pace; his grip on your jaw loosening before falling back down to it's place on your waist, your head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. He made sure to drag out your orgasm as long as he could before he pulled his fingers out, accompanied by a click of his tongue in disapproval.
"You made a mess. See?"
Despite your exhaustion, you peeked your eyes open to see the Scribe spreading his fingers apart infront of you; covered in slick and cream and connected by strands of fluids.
His fingers danced before your eyes right over Kaveh's face.
You could feel the burn of your cheeks as you shut your eyes; trying your best to steady your racing heart and regain your ragged breath.
"Well? Are you going to stand there, or are you going to come take a closer look?"
Your eyes shot open at Alhaitham's words, your head lifting somewhat to get a better look at his roommate. You could see him gulp, his gaze shifting off to the side of the room. He was flustered, for sure, but you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted downwards to hover over the bulge that was steadily growing within his pants.
"U-Unlike you, I-I'm a gentleman, and I will only-"
"Kaveh..." You mumbled, eyes locked onto him as he met your gaze. He gulped again. That seemed to be all the permission he needed before he walked over to you; that adorable blush on his cheeks only darkening as he dropped to his knees before you.
His ruby eyes met your half lidded gaze, his jaw tightening momentarily before he dove forward- his tongue making contact with your creamy entrance, causing you to jerk your hips in shock.
....you don't think you'll be eating that dinner that Kaveh was preparing tonight.
Not once did he break eye contact. And you could feel Alhaitham's hands move to force your knees ever-further apart.
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kofi / comms open
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tartagliove · 9 days
Text
Thinking about fox shifter!Childe who loves to chase bunny shifter!Reader. He chased you when he first met you, fox paws pinning you down in your squirming rabbit form, until you wore yourself out and he took you home with him. But after he knows you, he still loves the chase.
The tinge of instinctual fear intermingled with nervous thrill in your scent makes his blood pump. His fox ears are out, tail streaming behind him as he chases after you, following the noises you make as you bound and leap through the forest, trying to stretch out the distance between you and him.
You’re fast, but Childe has trained tirelessly over the years to hone his senses and master his body—both human and fox form, and the in-betweens. So he gains on you, your scent growing stronger to the point he can almost taste it.
He can tell you’re tiring.
Once he closes the distance and catches you, hands wrapping around your waist and spinning you around, he pushes you up against a tree. Before you can get a word out, he tears through the sleeve of your shirt with sharp claws, his fox features still present with the adrenaline running through his veins. Your noise of surprise is ignored. He swipes his tongue along your neck, savoring the taste of your skin: slightly salty from running, but your sweet scent is so strong here. Childe can hear your blood pumping, see your pulse fluttering, and he can’t help himself.
He bites.
Sinks his teeth into your skin, where your neck curves into your shoulder. You whine, in shock and at the sting of pain, but a shiver runs down your spine. His canines are sharper than a normal human’s, but he takes care to not break skin—this time.
He pulls back slowly when you thump your fist into his chest.
“Get off! Why did you have to go and tear my top?”
Childe runs his tongue over his teeth. He can taste you on his tongue, in his mouth, and he grins. “You ran from me.”
Your fingers brush over his bite mark. “I thought that was the whole point of what we planned,” you complain. “Why am I getting punished for it?”
“That’s not a punishment,” he says, blue eyes darkening. “It’s a reminder that I’ll always catch you, no matter how far you run.” He’ll be satisfied with the possessive mark left on your neck for now. It will fade in a few days, but that will be the perfect excuse for him to chase you again.
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crystallinestars · 7 months
Text
NSFW Alphabet - Neuvillette
My humble Valentine's offering.
Future parts for other boys will eventually be added here once they're written.
Neuvillette x fem!Reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The first few times you have sex, Neuvillette is a bit lost on how to perform aftercare since it’s not something he’s had to deal with before. Rest assured that he will still try his best to take care of you. Neuvillette will ask if there’s anything he can do for you, such as getting you water or helping you into the bath. Once he learns what is usually expected out of aftercare, he becomes very attentive to your needs. You will be pampered like a princess.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He never thought about what part of himself he liked the most, but if asked, he would have to say his eyes. You once mentioned that you found his eyes beautiful, and your words stuck with him ever since. Though he doesn’t see anything particularly noteworthy about his body aside from the fact it differs from a human’s, if you say you like his eyes, then he will come to view them as something special.
It's not really a body part, but Neuvillette likes your voice. He enjoys the sound of your voice after a long workday or a grueling case because it soothes him. It doesn’t have to be the prettiest, it just has to be yours because you are what he finds comfort in.
Ever since your relationship began, he got to hear all kinds of variations of your voice, but the most striking for him is how you sound while he makes love to you. Your moans and sighs of pleasure excite him in a way he never experienced before. Though the intensity of his arousal from hearing your wanton moans can be overwhelming at times, Neuvillette finds it enjoyable nonetheless.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
His cum is thick but tasteless. He always gets flustered if you swallow his cum since he finds the act too obscene, yet has no issue eating you out.
Due to his dragon nature, he likes to cum inside you if you let him. However, he’ll readily comply with your wishes if you tell him you don’t want that.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sometimes Neuvillette can get too absorbed in the primal pleasures of sex, allowing his innate dragon side to rear its head. This usually manifests in a desire to mark you as his, be it littering your skin with visible bites, sucking hickeys into your neck, or cumming inside you. Neuvillette suppresses these urges fairly well because he’s worried if he succumbs to them that he might hurt you, but he still can’t help but bite on your neck when he climaxes. It happens often enough that you can tell he’s holding himself back from being rougher with you, so if that’s something that you want, you’ll need to assuage his concerns.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Has zero experience. Neuvillette kept his distance from humans for hundreds of years, unwilling to forge intimate relationships with anyone until recently. That, combined with how absorbed he is with work, resulted in him never being in a relationship or having sexual encounters. That’s not to say he’s oblivious to how sex works. He does have working knowledge of the basics, but the intricacies of how to stimulate his partner and deriving pleasure from the act elude him.
Neuvillette is an attentive lover, so he will pay close attention to your reactions and follow your instructions carefully to try and give you the best experience possible. Though he lacks knowledge initially, he’s open to learning how to please you and will try his best to leave you thoroughly satisfied.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Neuvillette likes positions where he can see your face. Since he’s quite traditional, the chief justice isn’t into trying anything unconventional, so missionary is usually his favorite. He can do variations on it, such as hooking your legs over his shoulders or raising your knees to your chest for deeper penetration.
If he’s feeling really frisky, he might also take you in doggy. In that event, he’ll lean over you so his head is level with yours because he wants to see your expressions and give you kisses (plus it’s the perfect position for biting your nape).
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He takes sex very seriously. Almost too seriously. That’s mainly because it’s unfamiliar territory to him, so he’s not as comfortable and relaxed yet as someone more experienced might be. Even after he grows accustomed to sex, he still takes it seriously because he understands that it’s a very intimate and vulnerable moment for both of you, and he doesn’t want to slip up and accidentally hurt you. If you’re nervous, he will try his best to reassure you that he will be gentle and slow, and he’s willing to stop at any time if you ask. Overall, he’s very considerate towards you.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Nevillette goes through painstaking measures to care for his outward appearance, and the same applies to his pubic hair. He takes very good care of it, trimming it regularly to keep it neat. It’s the same shade of white as his hair.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
During the first few sessions, Neuvillette will be quite awkward. He is completely out of his element and unfamiliar with what to do, so he will rely on your feedback a lot. His mind will mostly focus on trying to do everything right rather than showering you in romantic or dirty praises, but you can still tell he loves you through his actions. His movements and gestures might be awkward at the start, but there’s a gentleness and tenderness to them that speak volumes about how he feels for you in that moment.
Once he grows accustomed to sex and knows what each of you like and dislike, Neuvillette will become more comfortable with expressing his feelings during lovemaking. He will say things like “I love you” and “You’re so wonderful” often, and give you lots of kisses and gentle caresses. It will be quite romantic.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn’t masturbate. He might have tried it once or twice, but his libido is quite low and he simply saw no need to engage in the act, so he seldom did it. Work kept him distracted from his bodily needs, and if he needed to let out stress, then he opted for going on strolls or conversing with the Melusines to lift his mood.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He’s very vanilla, so when entering the relationship he had no kinks. Only after some experimentation did he learn he has a bit of a breeding kink and is into blindfolding you because you become more vocal from the increased sensitivity. He’s not into more hardcore kinks like spanking, bondage, or asphyxiation to name a few. Neuvillette is naturally a very gentle and caring person, so he doesn’t want to do anything that can cause you harm or pain.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Neuvillette likes to keep his work and private lives separate, so sex only happens at home and 90% of the time on the bed. He will put his foot down if you try to get frisky with him in his office, and will kick you out if you won’t listen. He’s not risking having one of his coworkers walk in and see both of you in a compromising situation.
Neuvillette prefers the bed because it’s the most natural location to engage in sex (in his opinion), plus it’s comfortable and allows you a good place to rest afterwards. That said, he can fuck you on a table or counter if he’s feeling spontaneous. The Iudex also likes having sex in the bath due to his love for water, and he’ll take every precaution to keep you from slipping.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Neuvillette can grow aroused fairly easily, but he has ironclad self-restraint so it’s generally difficult to get him to act on his urges, especially if he has unfinished work to take care of. Fortunately, if you play your cards right, you could arouse him enough to act on his desires. The most effective method is to play with the tips of his ears. Neuvillette’s ears are sensitive to stimulation, so if you nibble or lick on the pointed tips, he can easily grow aroused. Same goes for whispering or moaning close to his ears.
Another way is to engage in a makeout session with him. Exchanging tender kisses that gradually grow more sensual and heated will ignite and fan the spark of lust in his belly. Since he’s inexperienced with such intimate contact, touches that feel good tend to easily arouse him.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He can be a bit rough with you if you ask, such as thrusting harder or leaving bite marks on your skin, but other than that, Neuvillette won’t do anything to hurt you. As mentioned previously, he won’t do things like asphyxiation, spanking, or hardcore bondage, but also won’t degrade or humiliate you. He views such acts as brutish and hates bringing you or anyone pain. He’s simply too empathetic and sweet to hurt others. Similarly, he doesn’t want these things done to him, either.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Has a slight preference for giving over receiving, but that’s mostly because he feels awkward having his dick in your mouth. Neuvillette doesn’t know how to conduct himself at first since he’s never had this done to him before. With time, he will learn to relax and enjoy blowjobs, but will still have a preference for giving you oral as opposed to receiving. Neuvillette is naturally a very considerate individual and goes out of his way to accommodate the needs of others, even if he can be a bit awkward about it.
In terms of eating you out, Neuvillette will lack skill at first since you are the first sexual and romantic partner he’s ever had, he will heavily rely on you to give him guidance and feedback on his performance. He’s a quick learner, though, so he will have his techniques perfected to a science, and will leave you a writhing, moaning mess under his tongue. Neuvillette likes performing oral on you because he likes listening to your sweet moans and praises because they turn him on. Knowing he’s making you feel good with his mouth alone swells his ego.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Generally, Neuvillette is slow and sensual. He likes taking his time exploring your body and discovering what gets you going or what turns you off, so he knows how to please you better in the future. Engaging in sweet and sensual lovemaking also helps him feel more connected to you emotionally.
If he’s really turned on, Neuvillette can go a bit faster and harder, nipping on the skin of your shoulders and neck in a possessive manner, but even then, he’s still gentle enough to not break the skin.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Rarely engages in them, if at all. He prefers slower sessions where he can truly savor your body and connect with you emotionally, which quickies don’t provide.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Neuvillette is not one to take risks. He’s pretty traditional and doesn’t like the idea of doing something risky that can come at a detriment to either of you. He’s open to experimenting with kinks you're interested in if he deems harmless, otherwise he won’t go out of his way to try new things if the status quo seems to work just fine.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Because he’s a dragon, his stamina is higher than the average human’s, so Neuvillette can comfortably last for a few hours. His libido is not that high though, so he tends to go for 1-2 longer sessions. That's not a bad thing since he's very thorough about making sure you’re satisfied by the end, and are left wanting for nothing.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesn’t own any toys, but doesn’t mind if you do. He would prefer to keep them out of lovemaking with you. He’s not familiar with how they work, and would rather give you pleasure with his own skills than with a toy. He finds that they detract from the intimacy.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He’s too much of a softie to want to tease you. He’d much rather give you the gratification you seek immediately and feel secure that he managed to satisfy you, so expect him to cave in to your every plea for more. The only time he'll refuse to get you off is if you ask him for sex outside of the house or when he has a lot of important work to take care of. Otherwise, he's almost a little too eager to please you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He’s generally quiet, only letting out heavy breaths and a few low grunts when you do something that makes him feel particularly good. When he’s close to climax or if you’re giving him oral, Neuvillette will moan softly but will try to muffle his voice. He’d much rather hear you over himself. If he’s in a more feral mood, he tends to let out low growls when he’s close to orgasm.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Neuvillette's tongue is about 3-4 inches longer than that of the average human, and he uses it very well when giving you oral. The length allows him to slip his tongue deep in your pussy, pressing the nimble appendage against all the sweet spots he can reach to make you see stars. It might be a strange sensation at first, but you'll come to learn that your boyfriend's ability can grant you pleasure in a way you've never experienced before.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s on the bigger side, a bit over 6 inches. His cock is slender and pale, with a nice upward curve.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Neuvillette’s sex drive is pretty low. He’s very used to going without sexual gratification, and never really craved it until he entered into a relationship with you. Although, he can get pretty into it once you actually have sex, and will keep going until you’re both satisfied (Mainly you, though. Your gratification is his priority.).
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
As mentioned before, Neuvillette has more stamina than the average human, so a round of sex won’t be enough to tire him out enough to fall asleep easily. He’ll lay and cuddle with you afterward, but you’ll always fall asleep before him. He might fall asleep with you if he feels content and relaxed in the moment, or he might leave to finish up some leftover work if sleep doesn’t come easily. He'll give you a sweet kiss on the forehead before he goes.
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dvlboy · 4 months
Text
family man
read dni!!! warnings: abo, feminization (slightly), talks about kids, heats, messy idk
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the future of his people weigh heavily on him, and he needs to make sure he picks the alpha that can get the job done. he's always wanted a big family, someone to rebuild his nations people with. he loves you, and he loves how good of a father you could be to his future children.
he watches you, sitting on your couch, biting his lips while he swirls a glass of sunsettia juice in his wine glass. you were currently cutting up some berries, cheese and preparing some snacks in a fun little basket. you were currently talking to him, asking him if he'd like to accompany you on the picnic you were planning. he could only nod as he grinded his thighs together, silently thankful that you were oblivious to his growing blush on his cheeks.
you've taken on a father role to a few of the youngins inside mondtstadt. and while you cannot be there as often as you'd wish, you still try your best. you would never want razor and bennett to grow up without a constant support system, and although you aren't their biological parents you try to make them feel as loved as possible. you introduced razor to his first birthday cake and showed him some new stuff for his birthday, and are always the first to wish bennett a happy birthday as well. diona has come over countless times to take a nap after dinner, and uses you as her confidant when her father has a few too many. sometimes she'll sleepover too. mika is a shy boy, and you often accompany him when he needs it. he's so shy, but sometimes... and just sometimes he'll break through his shell to you. you've carried him home sometimes after a long day, or will ruffle his hair when he beats himself up over something. even that kid timmy, you'll still go with him to feed the pigeons, or teach him cooking skills to bring to his mom. he's aware that you aren't his father, but its nice to have someone to rely on.
there's just something about you that draws people in. maybe its your personality, maybe its your kindness or reliability. maybe it was the muscles that show through your clothes, a sign of your protection and strength.
kaeya himself has alot of respect for you in that regard, and also finds it incredibly attractive how dedicated you are in everything you do. namely you're closest to bennett, razor, diona, and klee, and he could tell how much thought you were putting into a small picnic. and he, unlike you, isn't oblivious to the stares directed your ways, a gorgeous alpha with a golden heart is sure to make anyone act up.
and as you heard a knock on your door, some ruckus and a familiar voice apologize for accidentally tripping into your rose bushes, it wasn't hard to see how you looked forward to seeing your "kids" again.
god you'd be such a good dad, and you'd be an even better fit for him.
--------
it wasn't hard to miss how tired you were when you came back home, but kaeya could see it in your eyes how content you were. you gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling some leftover supplies and making dinner.
you told stories of how proud you were of bennett for trying to cook despite it still being inedible, or how proud you were of razor for carving his own path. how worried you were for diona and mika for their responsibilities, and how sad timmy seemed even after you spent a few hours watching ducks with him and eating berries. kaeyas eyes trailed over your figure, how your strong hands gripped the knife as you chopped some potatoes, how the apron hugged your shoulders and waist, how happy you seemed to see everyone again...
kaeyas omega purred as you sat the plate infront of him, you sitting beside him with your warm hand on his cold thigh, rubbing them up and down. he stayed quiet, eyes meeting yours before he brought you to a kiss. you just seemed so content and happy today, it made him wish that the two of you had your own to take care of. he'd bet a good sum of mora that they'd have his khaenri'ah eyes and would probably be the cutest things ever.
the two of you made small conversations throughout your meal, kaeya cleaning up while you showered from your long day. it wasn't long before you were snuggled into the sheets, not looking up from your book when kaeya crawled onto your lap. it was only when he purred, the scent of arousal starting to leak through the air that you decided to focus on your boyfriend.
his finger trailed down your chest, a shameless blush painted on his cheeks as he leaned in, "y'know, seeing you so good with kids is such a sight for sore eyes..," he smiled, grabbing your hand. "tell me darling, do you want kids of your own someday?" there was such a sweet seduction in your tone as he stared at you, trying to ignore the burning desire in his core.
"i'd love a couple of my own.." your hands snaked around his waist as you leaned in to kiss him, "especially if they were with you.." he closed his eyes as he kissed back, putting more and more pressure into the kiss. your hands pulled away, going to slowly peel the buttons off his shirt.
he purred against you, "i'm not in my heat right now darling." he seemed almost sad, before a sly grin replaced his slight frown. "buuuuut, who says that can stop us?" his hand slid down your body, thumbs hooking onto the loose pajama pants, fingers tracing your slight bulge in your pants.
"how about this, why don't we practice for my next heat?" he pulled your shorts down, his hand wrapping around your soft cock, "so that when it does come around, you can pop a kid in me." he purred those words out, desire burning out into his actions.
"h-hey kaeya, i'm all for it but don't i'm a bit tired.. i don't think i could get on top of you as long as i normally do.." his hands didn't stop, and he spat on his hand before he slowly jerked you off.
"i have no issues with that darlin," he slapped your cock against his cheeks, "i'll make sure to practice well, make sure you fill me up nice n good.."
kaeya was impossibly beautiful, even as he stared you down with those eyes, swollen cock around his lips. spit dribbled down his fingers and his lips while he stroked you, firmly and insistently. one hand left your cock, slowly travelling down to his entrance, slowly teasing his rim, checking to make the lube and preparations he did while you were gone.
once he deemed your cock wet enough, he sat on your lap, hands wrapping around your neck. he moaned into your neck when you pulled him closer to you, his dripping cock pressing against yours. you snuggled into his body, inhaling his scent before pressing the head of your cock against his hole, shuddering an exhale into his skin. the slick head of your cock circled around his rim, before you pushed into his ass, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling.
kaeya was gripping onto your neck and your dick like an iron vice, everytime you tried to sink deeper into our gorgeous boyfriend he would let out a low, guttural moan. "i thought you said you would takeover for the night?" a poorly disguised tease left your lips and all he could do was grit his teeth, trying to hold back another grunt.
"s-shut it.. you're alot bigger then i remember from last heat.." even with your rough hands drawing circles on his hips, he was struggling to handle you fully inside of him.
yet in his horny mind, he couldn't be more turned on, or any more frustrated that he couldn't take you the same way he did during his heats. it hurt so good, in a way that made his head spin the same way it did when he was drowning in your scent.
yet that pain didn't stop him from rolling his hips on your dick, hands slowly sliding to grip your shoulders. slowly he ground his hips against yours, shuddering out breathes while you sat there patient, watching him lose that seductive facade. "f-fuck.. so good.." he muttered at you, slowly gaining more length to bounce on.
his hips continued to ride against yours, his body slowly getting used to you once more. sweat was starting to build on his forehead, and his hair was starting to get unruly. his hands scratched down your shoulders and torso, landing on your sides. drool was starting to leak down his mouth while he rode you, his shakiness disappearing and a natural rhythm forming.
"so good baby, you're so good.." you muttered into the air, toes curling at the pleasure. hes so good at taking your cock, you couldn't help but thrust into his body, enjoying how it threw him off, little hiccups of pleasure from reaching the deepest parts of him.
"m'gonna knock you up, keep you nice and full.." you muttered at him, feeling him tense around you. one of your hands drew to his weeping cock, a shocked moan leaving his lips. "you'd be such a good daddy too, such a good fucking father to our kids.." you stroked him off, feeling him grasp at your thick arms in desperation, crying out your name. it was the only coherent thing he could say, everything else just blabbers of pleasure and pain.
seeing such an explosive reaction really woke something up in you, "i'd bet you'd be so fucking hot, all bloated and pretty with my kids.." you brought him into a sloppy kiss, his lips leaking drool all over you. everytime you teased him, he would tighten around you, milking your cock for your cum.
kaeya rolled his hips once more, before he shuddered and tightened like a vice on you, watery cum shooting all over your stomach, leaking his cum down your hand that was still on his cock.
kaeyas chest heaved up and down, recovering from his orgasm while you stared at him, hand still on his softening cock and your dick deep inside of him.
"c'mon doll, show me how much you want to be a mama.." your hand slowly started to stroke his cock, getting a breathless moan from him. "you can do it.. just a bit more.."
and so he sat there, sweaty and blushed, his sore hips moving up and down on your dick, trying to keep it together while you watched him slowly come undone again. how he bit the inside of his cheeks whenever you hit that spot again, how he instantly moaned and shot you a flustered glare if you dare started to speed up your hands on his dick, everything.
"m'close kaeya.." god how your voice muttered his name, it made him even more desperate for you. he wanted your cum, your seed, he wanted your everything.
and when you finally grabbed his hips instead of his cock, manhandling him like a doll and thrusting all the way into him, he came again, a weaker, less explosive orgasm being milked on him. he could hear your franic breaths and see your chest rise and fall as you pounded into him, your balls tightening. your arms locked into his body firmly, your knuckles turning pale before a weak grunt left your lips, a few more following. he could feel your cum spurt into him, and did nothing while you forced him to stay still, feeling your seed bury itself deep into him.
the two of you stayed like that, kaeya too exhausted to move. he collapsed on your chest, lightly grimacing at the feeling of his own cum on his skin, relishing the warmth that was inside of him, and how full he felt.
he was about to fall asleep on your chest before you chuckled at him, "was that enough practice for you? let me get you a glass of water... and maybe a towel.." kaeya opened his eyes to give you a kiss, contentment in his chest.
god you'd be the best dad ever.
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so i tried to make the reader dilf himbo flavoured but idk
ANYWAYS REBLOGS and COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPREICATED <3 love u guys (this was lowkey for mothers day oops)
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luv4slts · 1 year
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Corruption
- neuvillette x fem!reader ˖⋆࿐໋₊  
tags: dubcon, bimbofication, breeding, praise kink, degrading kink, corruption, abuse of power, mention of crimes such as murder. wc: 1.7k — this is my first ever fanfic so it's not the best but i hope you enjoy it anyways <3
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There were strange cases of murders happening throughout the capital of Fontaine, all very eerily similar to one another. You never intended to be caught but even a small mistake can lead to disaster. Being caught wasn't even a thought that was acknowledged in your mind. You thought no one could ever catch you. You had been so meticulous in how you went about the murders. And yet, a miscalculation did occur. You loved thinking of yourself as a brilliant mind. Maybe in another life you could’ve been the top student at the Akademiya in Sumeru, but that was too tedious for you.
“Ms. L/n, you are currently being sat for a trial so I would suggest you stop dozing off.” said the man in the golden chair
“I’m sorry, your honor.” you reply with a hint of snideness
You hated him. He was the most pretentious man you had ever met. The man in question was the Chief of Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette. He was the man in charge of ruling decisions that concerned Justice, which Fontaine was the land of. Anyone in charge of that power would only be second to the Archon.
“Courts adjourned. It will be held again tomorrow at noon.” he declares to everyone in the court
Finally, there was nothing you hated more than this boring affair. You knew that the odds weren’t very good against you so in the end you would probably be put to death anyways. Or given life imprisonment without parole. The only thing that could save you was if somehow the Archon herself ruled a decision over the case in your favor but that would never happen. You gather your things and start leaving the court, following your lawyer.
“Ms. L/n, you will not be leaving yet. I need you to come with me to my office.” he said stoically while collecting his documents.
“Of course, your honor. What would be the reason for this?”
“I just need to have a talk with you, that’s all. Nothing will be used against you so please do not fret about such things.”
He starts walking towards the door and you follow him closely. After a few minutes, you finally reach his office. You take a seat on the couch that’s in front of his desk. His room had an air of luxury and power to it. Any person with keen eyes would be able to recognize that this room belongs to someone of high esteem.
You snap out of your thoughts, “What did you want to talk to me about, sir?”
He sits on his chair, looking out the window behind him.
“I know that the odds aren’t very good against you in this case.”
Thanks for stating the obvious you think to yourself.
“And so, I would like to offer you an arrangement. Something that I think would be beneficial for the both of us.”
“What would this arrangement you speak of entail?” you’re confused but enticed at the offer
“Hmm…” he trails off for a bit before speaking again, “I would get something that I want and you receive freedom. Does that interest you?”
“Yes, it does. What might you want from me though?”
He stands from his chair, slowly walking behind you. You feel his slender hands as they rest on your shoulders.
“You don’t need to worry about that, all I need is your agreement.” you can feel his hot breath
You don’t have any other options so this wouldn’t hurt, you think to yourself.
“I agree, then.”
“Wonderful.”
He slowly starts trailing his right hand down to your necklace, playing with it. He then starts placing kisses all over your neck while his hand starts going down further to the buttons of your shirt. He bites on your neck and you let out a yelp in surprise.
You can feel a smile form on his lips against your skin. He lets out a low chuckle and starts circling the spot with his tongue where he bit you before sucking on it. The sensations start building up and your breath hitches. This wasn't exactly what you had in mind but you don't protest.
His hand finishes unbuttoning your shirt and you’re left exposed in your bra.
He walks in front of you.
"Such a pretty girl..." he murmurs while putting his hand under your chin and rubbing his thumb over your lips
The heat between your thighs starts growing by each passing second. You take his thumb into your mouth before starting to slowly suck on it, moving your tongue in swirls around it.
"So needy." he purrs. He leans down towards you before clashing his lips into yours, slipping his tongue inside.
You let out a small moan into his mouth and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.
As he continues to explore you mouth, he effortlessly undoes your bra. Your nipples harden as they hit the cool air.
He pulls away and a string of saliva is left that connects both of your lips before breaking as he sets his sights on your nipples. He slowly starts sucking on them, you roll your head back into the couch and writhe as the heat starts pooling in your underwear.
"More, please." you say quietly
"More? Use your words, tell me what you want." he teased
"Please pleasure me, sir." you plead and your face grows red
As soon as he hears your cries, he begins to slide his fingers down your aching body. Making sure to take his time to get more of a reaction out of you. Finally, he reaches the waist band and slides your pants off of your body. He brings his fingers over your underwear, noticing the wet pool on them.
"Do you want my fingers?" he asks while tracing the pool of wetness
"Yes, please" you whisper while biting back a moan
He hums while taking your panties off of you, the last piece of clothing on your body. He lets his fingers explore your folds, gathering the wetness on his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them. Keeping his eyes on yours as he does so. You subtly arch your back, needy for more.
He chuckles before letting his fingers rub small circles on your sensitive spot. In a quick thrust, he pushes two fingers into your cunt. He curls the fingers and watches for your reaction. You let out breathy moans as they start filling the room together with the thrusts of his fingers inside your dripping cunt.
"F-fuck!" you cry out
He slams his lips into yours, "Quiet down, you don't want others to know that you're whoring yourself out to the Chief Justice, do you?"
You whimper
"Or.. do you want everyone to know? Is that it?"
You're too dumb to let out anything intelligible, letting out a whine instead.
"Mmm, how about I just breed you and make you mine instead? Then you can do whatever you want without repercussions. Do you want that?" he cooes while setting an even more brutal pace with his slender fingers
"Mmnh- yes, sir." you moan out, rolling your hips and becoming even needier than before as you feel your cunt clenching around his fingers and the climax coming closer.
Then, suddenly, he brings his fingers out and you whimper at the loss of them.
You then notice him taking his pants off. His erection is tight against his underwear. He lets it out and your eyes stay on it as you notice the girth of it.
"Spread your legs, mon chéri." he says lowly
You spread your legs, desperate for the length inside you. He teases your slit with his tip. Rubbing it slowly in circles.
Before you can react, he plunges his length into you. He sets a merciless rhythm and keeps a confident pace as he thrusts into you.
"Too much-" you sob out and he starts going faster
"No, no, my love. You're doing so well."
He brings his fingers to your mouth and you instinctively start sucking on them.
"You look so pretty under me." he purrs before letting out a low groan
He continues stretching out your swollen cunt. The sound of your bodies clashing continues to fill the room and you're sure that everyone knows what's happening inside.
"Don't hold back, I want to hear you." he says shakily and you can feel his pace starting to become more frenzied
You wrap your legs around him and let our strangled noises.
"Please. Mmnh-"
His thrusts become more desperate. He lets out pants but tries to cover them by sucking in sharp breaths to try and remain composed.
"Fuck" he groans before giving one more powerful thrust and emptying himself inside of you
Your walls tighten at his length and your eyes roll back as waves of pleasure spread through your body.
He sloppily kisses you while both of you ride out of the high. He takes it out of you and you whimper as you lose the filling sensation.
Immediately he presses your legs together, "Don't make it go to waste. I need to impregnate you after all, darling." he mutters
You feel your cheeks burning and look away towards the wall. You notice yourself in the mirror and how disheveled you look.
"I have important things to go over so I would suggest you start dressing up."
"Yes, I'm sorry." you reply quietly
You put your clothes back on while he's organizing his documents.
He notices you looking at him, he curls his fingers at you. You come over to him and he puts a piece of hair behind your ear before whispering into it, "I'll do everything that needs to be done when it comes to your case so don't concern yourself with that anymore."
He stops before continuing, "However, I would like you to start working for me. I need an assistant and.. I don't think I got enough of you just from today as it was quite rushed."
He looks into you before kissing you slowly.
"I would be happy to work for such an esteemed person. sir."
"Excellent. Then, I expect to see you next week so you can get started. You may leave now." he instructs
"Have a good day, sir."
You leave, pleased at what occurred today. Thinking to yourself that perhaps it wasn't such a boring affair after all.
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Sub Stepbrother FTM! Kaeya X Dom Stepbrother! Male Reader Modern AU Nsfw Headcanons
Warnings: cock riding, spanking kinks, and thigh riding
You and Kaeya have known each other for a very long time, and you never thought that you would become his stepbrother when your mom married his dad, which you have a great relationship with
Now that you two are grown and living in the same house together, the relationship between you and Kaeya was like any other platonic relationship. But you began to notice something different about Kaeya, he would be very flirty and submissive towards you
He would always tease you by only wearing one of your shirts and would grind on your thigh
He would also ride on your cock while he's at it, but ask you if you want it in his butt or his cunt before doing so
Oh, and spank his thighs when he rides on you, he loves having your handprints on them. He mostly loves it when you spank his butt though
You two act like two innocent people in public, but it's a lot different when you guys are behind closed doors
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em0zombie · 1 year
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Neuvillette NSFW headcanons !
 `🐟` . ִ ֗  MDNI ! - Mentions of riding, crying, no protection (?) , Breeding kink
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- This man- He’s such a mess whenever he’s with you. If he’s going to have intimate time, it’s gonna be with someone he deeply cares about.
- Holds your hands when doing it, loves missionary since he can see your face and emotions. Gets turned on by how you react to his touch. Loves hugging you and holding you gently when needed all the time.
- He doesn’t fuck, he makes love.
- Sometimes he can get sinful ideas, ideas that he gets embarrassed by since they’re not the brightest. He imagines you riding him in the court- he’s doesn’t know why but he gets turned on by how you can be dominant against him. Being put in his place even though he hasn’t done anything to piss you off makes him go crazy.
- About you being dominant against him, he likes the idea of you two doing it in a public area. He doesn’t understand why you make him think of such things, he never did until he met you.
- Give him that top, he loves it. Your hands being everywhere on his legs and balls.
- He would rather much use protection but…who cares not like you’re gonna get pregnant- and if you do he’s fine with it, he’s already a father to the melusine! (Headcanoning that he’s a girl dad!)
- Isn’t too extreme about Oral, but he’ll do it to get off steam when he’s pissed from his job. Brace for it *salutes*
- Likes missionary, cowgirl, spooning- anything where he can hold your hips if you’ll allow him too.
- A whining mess, he is also very emotional so crying is something he does when he comes. Sorry! He can’t control it!
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[that’s all I can think of!! 😭]
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