#i wanted to participate hehehe

[masterofdimentions]

someone help him

[thesandlorde]

blending in at the Friuli Venezia Giulia folk festival 🏵️💐🕺

[paper-anons-posts]

something they can never take away

The world has ended. That doesn't mean they can't begin it again. (otterverse fic! @pacificseaotter )

In the ruins of a civilization once grand, the survivors must learn to rebuild.

It starts with the simple things: taking the remains of the fallen and bringing them to a field. Graves are dug, goodbyes are said, and bodies buried. The conditions of the dead vary; the monsters that caused them their doom were rabid beasts. Despite this, they try anyway. It's the least they can do. 4 graves are laid there, marked with symbols made of small rocks. (I may not live to see our glory)

Then begins the first problem: the monsters aren't gone. They may not ever truly disappear, but they'll adapt. Slowly, the survivors kill the demons. Grand beasts that vary in features, but are always white, with huge eyes thirsty for blood. Maybe, in another world, they might've been cute. But this is not a happier world. Even so, they'll make it one. (But I will gladly join the fight)

Secondly, they need resources. A mostly-intact building is chosen as their base. Groups go out searching for any leftover cans, wood, or other useful materials. It's tough work, but they're determined. Stray survivors are found and collected. Food is cooked, beds are made, and in the face of disaster, happiness is found. (And when our children tell our stories)

Time passes. People are saved, and the group grows. The monsters are contained, and plans are made to fight them. The constant storm stops, and grows less and less bloody until it is back to mostly water. The world begins to return to normal. (They'll tell the story of tonight)

One day, the apocalypse will be nothing more than a memory. Then, the world will remember the brave people who stood against it. The builders of the new world. For now though, they'll work towards that goal. They won't give up. They have each other, after all. (They'll tell the story of tonight.)

[a-chicken-with-adhd]

Currently writing two things at once: My own fantasy story and then PJO ff. And I really want to write both of them, but life just keeps filling up my schedule without total permission and squashing all plans to do so, which is like ruining my hyperfixation on it. UUUGHHG.

[sanjisboyfie]

∞ SNSTV : first year, first mission

this is the first chapter of my series "sensitive" (SNSTV = sensitive). since it's a series, this first chapter is going to be pretty "boring" in terms of romance, but it still full of satosugu interactions with reader...but probably not favorable ones as you'll see soon lol. anyway ! stay tuned for the next chapters because i will have a lot of fun fleshing this out hehehe

first year satosugu x male reader

-> prev

( if u squint )

“since shoko is a very valuable sorcerer, she must refrain from participating in highly dangerous missions,” the only girl in the room smiled at the information, sneakily flipping off her male classmates. satoru was annoyed, suguru was indifferent, and [name] seemed to be the only one with half a mind to care for the woman’s safety.

“her abilities are quite special,” he compliments, making yaga hum in agreement and shoko wink at him in appreciation.

satoru pretends to barf in his mouth.

“that leaves the three of you, [last name], gojo, and geto — this mission is going to be your first one without supervision. it should show to be easy enough. you are to simply monitor and oversea a specific section of the closed down mall and exorcise any curses that are roaming. it has been closed down far too long and kids are starting to wander in there without any idea of what they’re walking into. for the safety of the people and the community, you must exterminate every curse that dwells there. you are all permitted in using any cursed tool, if you wish, but we highly encourage you learn to harness your abilities as soon as possible.”

satoru pretended to barf in his mouth again. doing things for “normal” civilians was never his most ideal way of spending his time. but unless he wanted to hear a nagging from yaga, he had to suck it up. formal missions were hard to dodge, anyway. meanwhile, suguru hummed in understanding, seeing why this would need an urgent team.

and [name] was just excited to finally get his hands on his cursed tool again.

the three were escorted to the abandoned mall via their driver, who told them to call him if anything were to happen and they needed immediate assistance.

“i don’t get why crybaby over here had to come,” satoru huffs, looking at the mall with disinterest. it’s unclear whether or not he’s talking to himself or his other classmate. either way, it got a reaction from [name] who was within earshot.

“why don’t you just go fuck off gojo,” [name] snarled, holding onto the scythe in his hands with a tight grip. he expertly twirled it around, using the weight of it and basic understanding of gravity, to make it so that the sharp blade was pointed right at gojo’s neck.

hiding his surprise at the sudden action, gojo just smirked and glared at [name].

“you’re just scared because you know i’m right. the moment things go to shit, you’re gonna go running with your tail in between your legs like a poor puppy. and i’ll be there to laugh,” gojo said with a taunting cackle, the ugly sound rising from his throat making both suguru and [name] cringe.

“i’ll slice your throat open, i mean it.”

“love to see you try, piece of shit!”

“alright! enough fighting, the both of you! seriously? are we on a mission to exorcise some curses or is it my personal responsibility to babysit the two of you?” suguru sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress, “can we all just do this and go home? i think it’s obvious neither of you want to be here any longer,”

satoru rolled his eyes at suguru’s “nice guy” perona, internally calling bullshit on his entire personality. god, satoru hated those type of guys the most. the ones who think they’re superior just because they’re more mature. it pissed him off that suguru had an ability so strong too...talk about waste of potential!

well, too bad for both [name] and suguru because the one who was most superior was obviously him! he was gojo satoru, after all.

“whatever, weaklings. why don’t you sit back and just let me take care of this? there’s no need for your abilities when i could exterminate every curse in the vacinity,” satoru was confident when speaking his words, but if you were to tell him to actually do that…he might not have been able to.

hey! he was a first year and just recently allowed to go completely “ham” on using his powerful abilities. he didn’t have the bestest grasp on control or output, but he did know that his technique easily overpowered the other twos’.

“hm, to make it interesting, why don’t we have a competition?”

the competitive side of [name] and satoru shone bright after suguru said that. taking their perked up heads and attentive ears as a sign to continue on, he proposed, “whoever exorcises the most curses won’t have to do chores around the dorm for a whole week and all that responsibility will fall onto the losers.”

“a whole month,” [name] bargained, earning a shrug of approval from suguru. and satoru laughed that obnoxious laugh of his again, shouting a “bring it on” before putting on his sunglasses.

“you two are going down!”

“what does cockiness get you besides hateful stares, gojo?”

“geto-san’s right, you gojo bitch! bite your tongue and choke on your own blood, fool!!”

on the count of 3, the three students were setting off into separate directions of the mall and finding as many curses as possible to exterminate. for how vast the entire property was, this could take as long as a couple of hours…if the three students were normal jujutsu sorcerers.

but when you put a narcissist, someone with a superiority complex, and a hot-headed individual in a high stakes competition, you get the mall that was full of curses being free of said curses in under two hours (an hour and ten minutes, to be exact. to cover a 800,000 square feet land full of extremely lower grade curses).

at the beginning of the competition, [name] would lure out the curses by simply baiting them with his “naivety” of them being there. they’d pounce to attack, happy to find an unsuspecting prey, before [name] would slash them across their forms and kill them with his cursed tool. he imagines by the end of the hour, he had already taken care of over a couple dozen very low grade curses.

just as he was about to maneuver around and slice another one up, something had already took care of the problem.

“gonna need to try harder than that, crybaby,” satoru taunts, smirking from a floor above as he easily blew up the curse that was about to attack [name]. the man grits his teeth in annoyance while the white haired individual just shrugs in pride, “you can’t even look out for yourself, need me to save you, huh?”

“fuck off!” [name] sent a strong gust of wind satoru’s way via swinging his scythe towards satoru, creating almost a slash of air. his tormentor only laughed at the attempt in attacking him, flipping out of the way and then walking past [name] with a smug grin.

as he disappeared from [name]’s sight, he felt himself get more and more annoyed and angry at his predicament. of course, he had to be stuck in an abandoned place with his bully and not be able to leave until the ending of their mission. [name] huffed, feeling an unfair amount of tears reach his eyes.

at least satoru wouldn’t be around to see him cry like a pathetic loser, he thought to himself. he shook his head a couple of times, forcing the tears down with a clearing of his throat and rough wipe of his face. it was a pain to live such an emotionally unstable life — as if he had any control over things like that.

“so you really are a crybaby?” suguru’s voice broke his silent sobs, making him whip his head up and glare at the man approaching him. seeing his obvious apprehension to him being there, suguru put his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, “there’s no reason for you to be crying, why are you crying?”

“obviously i know i have no reason to cry, idiot, how annoying do you think it is for me to have to do it when i have no reason to?!”

suguru blinked, confusion panted on his face, “you have to cry?” putting emphasis on ‘have’ it was obvious suguru didn’t see a point in such a thing, especially right now.

“you wouldn’t get it, so just leave me alone,” [name] said, waving his hand and turning around to look for more curses. suguru had an odd look on his face as he watched [name] walk away, an unreasonable amount of cursed energy surrounding the previously crying man.

the ravenette truly wondered what his life story was, he was just so intriguing. a sorcerer coming from one of the strongest clans in the jujutsu world was walking away from him with his head held down, shoulders shaking, and tears dripping onto the floor.

“what’s his deal,” suguru hums to himself, flicking his wrist in the direction of a miniature curse that was coming towards him and easily eliminating it from the picture.

[name] continued expertly swinging his scythe around whenever he saw a curse coming towards him, not flinching as it died in front of him each time. it was obvious he was most comfortable with such a weapon, despite it being a couple times larger than his smaller frame. with how easily he handled it, though, it was somewhat obvious that he had been training with the weapon for a long time.

“oiii!!! i finished up on my part of the mall,” satoru shouted, his whiny voice echoing in the empty walls.

“same here!!”

[name] looked down at the pathetic curse that was shyly standing far away from him. it had an odd figure, a spherical body that was being held up by skinny blue legs that were wobbling from the abnormal amount of weight that they had to hold up. it was muttering some stuff about the fitting room and how the clothes weren’t fitting, making [name] believe it probably formed from the stuff people would feel about themselves in the fitting rooms.

he sighed, walking ahead and crouching in front of the curse. the scythe remained unmoving as it was leaning against his shoulder, weakly swinging in the air at the heavy weight of the blade hanging behind his head. he kept it secure with his arm over the handle portion, making sure that it didn’t fall over.

the curse reached its arm out to touch him, but with a simple shifting of his head into the opposite direction, [name] stopped the possible contact. instead, he just put his finger to the pudgy flesh of the curse’s body, grimacing at the feeling. and with a simple “shot” coming from his fingers, the curse began to flail in pain and agony. until it turned into nothing but ash and dust, being blown away by a passing breeze.

“hey, what was your total count?” satoru’s voice taunted from behind him, not really reading the energy in the room. [name] stood up, a completely dead look in his eyes. it almost shocked satoru enough to shut him up, but it would take more than a miserable face to ever make him close his loud mouth.

“i came up to about 60,” suguru said, “a bunch of small insignificant ones, really,”

“and i got to the eighties,” satoru grinned, roughly shoving his shoulder into suguru’s. the black haired man only rolled his eyes, “what about you? i doubt above thirty, am i right?”

in reality, [name] had killed more curses than the two combined. but he susposes that he had an advantage, wielding a cursed tool rather than using his actual technique. well, except to kill that last one. plus his high sensitivity in reading where the curses were gave him an advantage in finding the prey faster than the other two.

but instead of telling the truth and gloating, like he should have done, he just shrugged, “i didn’t keep track — i guess you win, gojo,”

that made the strong sorcerer pump his fist into the air, chanting about how [name] and suguru were going to be stuck doing his laundry for a month. he was too caught up in his celebration to notice how sunken in [name]’s face really looked.

it wasn’t just his eyes that appeared dead, but it was as if the color drained from his face, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he was weakly walking towards them.

suguru noticed, though. and it intrigued him as he peered behind [name]’s subtly limping figure, catching a pile of ashes that was blowing in the wind. he couldn’t connect the dots completely, but he did know that the two things he noticed were connected in some way.

“feeling alright? losing sucks,” suguru asked, trying to talk about more light hearted things in the face of his incredibly sullen classmate.

“yeah, it’s whatever, i guess,”

there was definitely a difference. less colorful choices of vocabulary were being used and suguru thought that was the most noticeable change in [name]’s demeanor. he wasn’t cursing satoru out for being an egotistical piece of shit with the biggest ego in the world. he was just blankly walking past the bragging man with not a care in the world.

suguru bit his lip, stopping himself from asking more questions and instead reaching into his pocket to contact their original driver to tell them that the job was done. and while suguru was theorizing all of these things to himself, it was obvious satoru didn’t even spend a second thinking about it. if anything he welcomed the new, depressed [name]. it made for perfect bullying material for him!

that sadist, suguru grimly thought in his mind as he listened to the phone ring. he informed the driver to come pick them up before turning back around to watch satoru and [name] interact with one another. with how off he was acting, it was a surprise to see satoru still adamant on tormenting [name]. wasn’t it obvious already he was not himself? couldn’t gojo just give him a break? but then again, why wasn’t [name] sticking up for himself? he wasn’t a little kid that needed suguru’s saving, but at this point, he might as well.

“c’mon, gojo, quit it already,” suguru spoke up, lightly slapping the man’s shoulder. satoru didn’t like that, though, obnoxiously stomping over to stand toe-to-toe with suguru.

“hah? c’mon, geto, you’ve got to see that this is a real pathetic scene, isn’t it? he can’t do anything in his life but constantly lose. it makes you wonder how it’s even possible for us to exist in the same world as him; the strongests and the weakest standing to be in the same jujutsu class? what a joke,”

suguru grimaced, pushing satoru backwards to create some space in between them, “that’s not even funny, what’s your issue, gojo? can’t you just shut up for a couple of seconds? would it really kill you?”

satoru pretended to barf, glaring at suguru, “oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re one of those righteous folks that sticks up for the weaker people?”

“i don’t have to explain shit to you — i don’t even know you,” suguru mumbles, not wanting to entertain him further. creating an argument would only make their moods worsen and become more bitter towards each other. in the midst of his annoyance, suguru glances towards [name] and scoffed to himself.

it was a bit pathetic of [name] to not even speak up for himself, he’ll admit that. but he wasn’t going to bully him just for that. he just wished that he had spoken up for himself in this moment, it would’ve at least been a sign to satoru that he wasn’t to be messed with. that he was strong, to some extent. but instead the man just stood there and took all the insults.

it made suguru both annoyed and angered.

why couldn’t [name] stand up for himself now? he was doing so before so easily and naturally. but now, it was as if all the energy was sucked out of him…

the ride to the jujutsu high was silent. and [name] seperated from the two the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. suguru remained stoic as he watched [name] walk away while satoru next to him only hummed in disinterest.

”i’m telling you, suguru, to not waste your time defending him. he’s got no place in the jujutsu world, weak sorceres like him that prove to be useless have no place standing next to us — or even shoko for that matter. she may not have fighting prowess, but her natural ability is remarkable. with [name]…there’s nothing remarkable about him. it’s as if he’s a normal human, he’s ordinary and dull. don’t waste your breath with him.”

that was all satoru said to suguru before walking off, his hands behind his head as he walked in such a lax position. suguru stood silent for a couple of moments before snapping himself out of his stupor and going to his room.

he looked at the room a couple of doors down from him, [name]’s room, and his lips were drawn into a thin, straight line. he entered his comfortable room without wasting another second.

he didn’t know that behind [name]’s door, the man had his knees brought up to his chest as he sobbed his heart out on the floor. the screen of his small tv was blaring back at him in the dark room, the screen being the only source of light. he was watching his favorite show, one that made him laugh and happy. but tears streamed down his face as he had to choke back on his sobs.

he tried forcing a smile on his face, making an unsettling expression a couple of times before he gave up.

he always hated this part.

but he had to persevere. he moved to his small music player at his bedside, grabbing the headphones that worked alongside them and falling onto his bed. he put the flimsy over-ear devices on, sighing as he looked up at the blank ceiling. soon, a compilation of his favorites songs filled his ears and he tried to be content with the feeling.

‘immerse yourself. and you’ll be okay in the morning.’

it was a mantra he repeated to himself until he felt himself fall into sleep.

he really hated his innate cursed technique.

-

sorry if u hate emotional mcs...this guy is gonna be one. but for explainable reason, trust! he's still going to be strong, too, though, so look forward to that! i can't wait to make him go #insane <3 but other than that, really fun to write since it shows the dynamic i imagined satosugu to have in their first years of jujutsu high !!! since the whole incident happens in their second year i rlly wanna focus on building the relationships in the first year and stuff, so things might be a lil slow to start, but when it starts ... it'll start, trust. tysm for being os patient w this even if it is short affa. i look forward to writing longer, more deeeeeep chapters in the future. much love <3

[luv4fushi]

jujutsu kaisen bf headcanons

jjk - gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, inumaki toge

content: just some of my delusions <3 fem!reader

warnings: word dump, other than that nothing else hehe

i started this account to write oneshots but they’re all like. 7k words…. and MORE. so now im posting this because i’ve been writing two different stories for 3 days now.

gojo satoru

he’s such a menace. he looovessss being all gross in public to annoy people.

he doesn’t tell you when he’s upset and overcompensates to hide it (but you can always tell)

he likes when you play with his hair and when you tell him good things about himself. being the strongest means he’s used to having a lot of responsibility (everyone relies on him). he likes it when you tell him he’s doing a good job and that he can rely on you, too.

he doesn’t get jealous easily (he pretends he does, but it never actually bothers him) because he knows he’s the best and he’s confident in your love. he’ll pretend to be all pouty and sad but at the scene of the crime he finds it SO FUNNY. “babe… you did NOT have to reject him like that.”

he’s rich (duh) so he randomly comes home with the most EXTRAVAGANT GIFTS. you’ll be like ���wtf???” and he’d just stand there with the hugest grin on his face and be like “i thought of you!!”

he pulls the “don’t you love me?” card WAY TOO OFTEN. it works every time.

he hates when you cry. he thinks he’s bad at comforting people so he’ll be all nervous and afraid that you’ll hate him, but he’s actually good at it. he pulls you into his arms and lets you nuzzle into his neck. “i’m right here. i’ve got you, baby.” AHHHH

nanami kento

he’s so daddy material. not even in a sexual way. he’s just very responsible and reliable. he’s the kind of bf where you don’t have worry about planning trips and events because he handles it. he’s the bf you’d trust with your passport.

he loves to get massages from you and home cooked meals.

he likes upbeat, bubbly people because he’s relatively calm. he likes to watch you do cute things with a fond smile on his face. when you force him to participate in things, he’ll only grin and let you have your way with him.

he overthinks EVERYTHING. he knows he’s a workaholic so he’ll say things like, “i’m so sorry i’m late. i didn’t want to be caught up at work, but things just happened to be that way today.” and if you pretend to be upset he’ll be at your feet. “i’m sorry, love. i swear i love coming home to see you and spend time with you. don’t be upset, hm?”

HE’S SO … he makes you feel protected. he’s very stern with others, but around you he’s a lot more soft and flexible. “you don’t need to force yourself. i can do it for you, baby.” HEHEH he’s so lovely i love him

he’s very attentive. he never makes you feel like he’s not listening to you. he will quite literally drop whatever he’s doing to listen to you.

fushiguro megumi

he’s so SHY!!! he blushes really easily too. you have to initiate most of the touching and talking at the beginning of your relationship with him.

he actually doesn’t mind pda. he feels kind of prideful that he’s able to call you his. he LOVES holding your hand and he does that little thing where he’ll squeeze it when he knows you’re nervous.

everybody makes fun of him for being super soft with you. at first, he’s not really good with expressing his emotions, but give it three months and he’s the cheesiest bf ever. he loves using pet names in private with you.

he’s on the quieter side so he’s able to observe you REALLY well. got a new haircut? “did you cut your hair? it looks nice.” wearing some new jewelry? “it’s pretty. you should’ve told me, i would’ve bought you some more.” always cold? “i wore another sweater because i knew you’d be cold.” got your nails done? “why didn’t you choose the color i picked?” he’s SO thoughtful.

he’s such a cuddler. loves being held. loves holding you. literally would rather spend all day in bed with you than do anything else. he’s so AGH !! “why don’t you just sleep here tonight? i don’t want you to go.”

itadori yuji

he is SHAMELESS omg. he loves to talk about you and brag about you to anyone that will listen. “my girlfriend can do that, too!” + “my girlfriend says that i can’t do that, sorry.” + “my girlfriend doesn’t like things like that…” + “my girlfriend thinks these are cute!” + “my girlfriend is so pretty.”

he adores you so much he’s so cute about it. he literally dies when he’s without you. he’s SUPER clingy and doesn’t even try to hide it. everyone else thinks it’s soooo annoying but he doesn’t care.

he loves receiving forehead kisses, but because he’s literally like … curse offspring (LOL) he’s taller than you so he has to bend down while you tiptoe to kiss him. he also loves to pinch your cheeks at random times.

he’s a lot more buff than you think he is (cue the scene where he’s sprinting while carrying nobara) so hugging him is literally like hugging a huge bear.

he gives you a kiss EVERY TIME HE SEES YOU. he gets so sad when you refuse one. “what do you mean ‘not right now’? i don’t see the problem. i literally your boyfriend :(“

inumaki toge

he’s also a menace but not as much as gojo. he’s SO PLAYFUL and you always pretend to be annoyed but he knows you aren’t.

he’ll pull up and randomly give you food. that’s his love language. he loves feeding you. he’ll literally pull you on to the seat next to him and give you food if you say you haven’t eaten.

he LOVES giving you his sweaters. once he hands them to you, prepare to never give them back because he smells really good. you always smell like him to everyone else (that’s his goal)

he makes those super corny playlists that spell out a sentence. but he also makes playlists with music he knows you like to listen to. he’ll name them really funny things like “me and bae’s locked-in playlist”

he’s so witty. he makes you laugh so hard and then he pretends like your laughter doesn’t make him swell with pride. he LOVES to pepper you with kisses to hear you giggle.

he’s super cheesy and hilarious over text. he uses every pet name imaginable. “baby can you come wake me up in an hour?” + “angel i need u to give me back one sweater. just one.” + “princess ur being unreasonable … AN OVERNIGHT TRIP? i’m gonna jump.”

that’s all hehehe i love jjk boys sm

[a-random-weeb]

NOOOO BUT PURPOSELY TRYING TO MAKE BSD MEN FAIL NNN

ft. Dazai, Ranpo, Nikolai, and Sigma

(You’re gonna write for Chuuya anyways)

Hehehe, this sounds hilarious.

Also, you know I don't write for Nikolai

Anyway here are some short headcannons, like, you thought Chuuya was short? Think again

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

ﾟ。 Chuuya:

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

(I tried to put a heart around his name)

•He doesn't like NNN, but participates in it none the less (Only because you begged him to)

•Omg he wants to kill you when you try to make things harder for him

•He figures out your plan pretty quickly, and he's pissed

•You got him to participate so you could tempt him!

•You wear revealing clothes around the house and it pisses him off

•He probably can go the whole month without nutting, but watch out, because the minute it hits December first- well, he had to do 'no nut November', now you have to do 'no walk December' if you you what I mean 😏

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ

Sigma:

•Sigma thinks NNN is stupid

•But, you joke that it's because he's too horny not to participate, and what do you know? He actually participated because of the stupid joke you made

•He tries his best, but in the end he probably fails

•He can't handle it, you dressing up so proactively, you flirting and being all sexy, he needs you

•♪you try so hard, and get so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter~♪

•^that song is the apitamy of how he feels

•When he fails, he comes too you all dramatically like "I failed No Nut November, omg, this is the end of the worlldddddd"

•Poor thing thinks he's done something wrong 😭

•You just laugh and help him with his little 'Problem'

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩°❀⋆.

Dazai:

•He loves No Nut November

•He makes you participate with him

•He knows your plans to try to get him to fail, but he also has plans to make you fail

•Bro will walk around in his boxers. He will be cuddling with you on the couch (only in his boxers) and out of nowhere pull you onto his lap, and make sure you feel his hard shaft against your ass, maybe even rub himself against you a little. He'll kiss your neck and grind against you, whispering dirty stuff in your ear like "When this month is done, you're mine~"

•Yeah, you're not winning sweety

•The worst part is, he won't let you do him til December! Even if you lose!

•You'll have to get yourself off until then

•Even if you lose, he'll still tempt you, but won't let you touch him, it's Hell

•Have fun waiting~

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ

Ranpo:

•He doesn't participate in it, he thinks it's pointless

•But he will be really pouty if you participate

•He'll whine and annoy you about it

•He knows what you're trying to do, and he complains so much

•He can't wait for the month to end

+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°

Yay, I've posted again! I feel bad I haven't been posting, I'm so sorry guys 😭

[javier-penas-wifexx420]

Godless

moodboard not meant to be a physical description of reader, just her vibes/clothes

western au! dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!prostitute!reader playlist

My contribution to dead dove December hehehe. I love dead doves so I'm very happy to participate! @romana-after-dark

Summary: You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

word count: ~5.6k

DARK, dead dove: minors dni!! rough smut, prostitution, reader gets called a whore, sexual slavery, being bought/sold, angst, being owned and considered property, descriptions of men being violent with each other, Joel is possessive and very dominant, reader is very submissive, stockholm syndrome. dubcon, reader obeys but she doesn't have a choice. It's only gonna get darker from here mamas. Unprotected sex, STDs don’t exist in this universe, yeehaw. No use of y/n

A/N: Prepare for light old timey language. Yeehaw shit, in my heart I am a wild west man. Also I have no fucking idea what kind of money they used in the wild west so I just wrote gold coins lmao. Reader doesn't necessarily have a specific accent but she talks like an old timey western person, reader is just a girl in the world, god bless her. set in old west California LAWLESS LAND CALI WAS CRAZY BACK THEN BRUH

-

You tried to even your breathing as you hurriedly did your makeup, slapping your powder onto your face frantically. The other girls scurried around you, the collective energy was tense and you all shared a feeling of anxiety that was rising as the minutes ticked on.

The bar always went into a frenzy whenever Joel Miller and his men rode through town. You hadn’t been working here for that long but you’d already been here long enough for their visits. His men were animals, every girl dreaded it when they came to the brothel.

Joel and his men are shameless, getting drunk in the saloon and picking fights, riding through town and plundering all the folks living there, demanding "payments" in the form of money, food, jewelry, anything they could find that was worth taking. Payments that the people of your town made so that he would let them keep living there. He made it clear that we could wipe out the whole town if he wanted to, leaving you a people without anything. And that's if he left you all alive.

-

You hadn’t been living in the town that long. After your father died, you set off west with a man who you thought had loved you. Things had fallen out with him when you finally reached California, and he had left you all alone in this scary new world.

Luckily the people of the town had taken you in, but your shelter and safety came at a price. When you arrived, you had nowhere to live, no money, nothing.

The town brothel seemed like the only solution. You had a place to live, a job, a community. You made peace with having to let men defile you. Most of them were nice enough and your pimp took good care of all of you.

This world was cruel, you did what you needed to do to get by.

-

You adjusted your breasts where they sat in your low cut dress, pushed up by your corset. You fixed your hair and adjusted the garter on your stockings.

“Well at least we look nice.” A voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.

You turned and tried to muster a smile for your friend, Anna-Leigh, who was pinning up her blonde curls.

She clocked your fear and reached out her hand to take yours. You couldn’t look at her because if you did you’d cry, and you couldn’t afford to smudge the black pigment you’d put on your eyelashes.

“I know you don’t want to, honey.” She said softly, “But we’ve gone through this before.” Her southern accent never failed to soothe you.

You nodded,

“Yeah.” You sniffled.

“They’re gonna do what they always do, we just gotta deal with it and then they leave.” She said firmly.

“And if they really give us trouble, Mr. Polk will put a stop to it right quick.” 

You nodded a little more confidently, remembering that your pimp, Mr. Polk kept a gun on his hip every hour of the day.

No longer able to delay the inevitable, you took a deep breath, and followed your friend and the other girls out of the vanity area and down to the saloon.

-

Walking down the stairs, you analyze the chaotic scene. You’ve managed to understand how to navigate it so as to not cause any trouble. Keep your head down, be a good girl, let them do what they want and then they leave. Your pimp paid you all extra whenever Joel's men came through. Sometimes he’d give you all new dresses, it does make you feel better but it does little to ease the aching between your legs that persists whenever he and his men visit.

You all disperse and walk among the crowd. Usually most girls will immediately go and talk a man up but now you all just stand around awkwardly, letting men approach you and take you upstairs, or just take you right down here.

You’re taken upstairs a few times by a few different men. And later on, you’re sitting in a very drunk man’s lap down in the saloon with your breasts out, smoking a cigarette. He's playing a poker game and slowly losing everything.

Your eyes scan your surroundings: men brawling, naked women bent over, their legs splayed open. The usual.

Through the clamor around you, you can feel his eyes on you.

Joel Miller.

You'd seen him before, and his cold gaze had made your skin crawl.

You knew he was dangerous and you’d heard the stories about him. You’d never talked to him, only seen him when he came by. After making his rounds through the town, he’d just sit at the bar and drink as his men ran wild. To your knowledge, he didn’t even have sex with any of the girls.

You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel his eyes on you through the thick haze of smoke. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome, weathered from the desert sun. His soft brown hair was laced with gray, just like his short scruffy beard. He looked like could've been a man that was kind, if it wasn't for the dead stare in his eyes. Meeting his eyes you could see how cold blooded he was, how merciless.

After a while, Joel instructed his men to gather everything up. The barkeep and your pimp seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of them, their regulars bloodied and slumped over, the bar a mess.

You were pulling the top of your dress back over your breasts when you spotted Joel speaking to your pimp, who was looking distressed. Your stomach churned. That couldn’t be good.

You were on your way up the stairs when you heard your name being called, panic flooded your system.

You turned, frozen. Your heart was pounding as the other girls ran by you.

Anna-Leigh tugged your arm, "C'mon!"

You turned and the only thing you could do was shake your head.

"What's wrong?" She asked, confused.

Your pimp, growing impatient, walked up the stairs and grabbed your elbow, dragging you down.

"I know y'don't want to." He grumbled, "But I'm not bein' given much of'a choice."

Your feet dragged on the wood as you struggled to catch your footing. Did Joel suddenly decide he wanted to fuck you? Mr. Polk yanked you over to him.

Joel's broad form towered over you as you approached. You felt small under his gaze, you'd never been this close to him before. You took in his scent of desert dirt and sweat. His broad shoulders, hulking biceps and soft stomach stretched his stained white button down. The fringe on his cowhide jacket swayed as he took his hat off his head and ran a hand through his graying curls.

You stood looking up at him, eyes wide. He looked down at you without a hint of warmth and grabbed your arm roughly, spinning you around.

You gasped at his touch and anticipated to be bent over and have your skirt hiked up. Instead he just looked at you and turned you back to face him. He made an approving grunt and nodded his head.

"Yeah." His voice was deep and gruff, "This one."

He reached into his bag on the bar and pulled out a sack that he let fall open, gold coins falling out all over the counter.

You started to feel sick.

"Give you this for her." He said casually.

A spike of fear bolted through you.

"W-what?"

Your pimp sighed and turned to you,

"Go get y'things honey."

"What?" That felt like all you could say, "N-no."

You turned to see Anna-Leigh and the other girls staring at you. Your friend looked just as terrified as you felt. Tears freed themselves from your eyes.

"God damnit girl I said go get your fucking things." Mr. Polk yelled and gave you a shake. You looked at Joel who simply nodded his head up, as if telling you to go upstairs.

You sniffled and ran up the stairs, your sobs breaking through as you graced the landing and echoing as you flung yourself into your room.

-

You hiccuped as you threw your few belongings into a suitcase, everything blurred as you cried.

You were only able to get a few items packed before you broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

You suddenly felt the arms of your friend wrapping around you as other girls gathered around you, all stroking and hugging you.

You blinked back tears and tried to speak but you couldn’t. They just held you as you all cried. There wasn’t really anything they could say to make things better anyway.

You gasped and shuddered, trying to catch your breath. Anna-Leigh took your face in her hands,

“It’s okay, baby, breathe.” She said, tears falling down her face as well. You shook your head and kept crying.

Your pimp appeared in the doorway, looking mournful as he held his hat in his hands.

“How dare you!” Anna-Leigh screamed at him from where she held you.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down, “It’s either her or they take all a’you. Destroy the bar, hell maybe even the whole town.”

You cried harder, realizing that there was truly no way out of this. If you didn’t go with Joel, you’d be damning your sisters. You let out a final anguished cry before you got up shakily and continued to pack your things. You went down to the bar which was quiet, the men all watching with bated breath.

Mr. Polk escorted you down and you walked over to Joel again, whose smirk made you nauseous. You looked down at the floor as one of his men took your bag from you.

“Alright sweetheart.” Your pimp murmured, “You be good for Mr. Miller now.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face silently.

“Move out.” Joel addressed his men.

It hit you again that you were really leaving and you started sobbing again.

“No please!” You begged your pimp, “Don’t let him take me please!”

Joel reached out and grabbed your arm,

“I ain’t got time for this girl!” He sneered and ripped you away.

“No…” you cried as he dragged you along.

Anna-Leigh ran up and hugged you one last time. Joel let her, but made an irritated noise and squeezed you painfully when she took too long.

She pulled away and grabbed your face in her hands.

“You can do this.” She said, her voice breaking, “You’re gonna be strong.”

You hiccuped and shook your head,

“Be strong ok?” She nodded at you as Joel finally wrenched you away.

“That’s enough!” He barked, “I’ve already been mighty patient with you folks. Stop fuckin’ testing me!”

Everyone stared at him, silent and full of fear.

You could only cry harder as he dragged you outside. He picked you up and set you on his horse, untying its reigns from the post. 

“Hey!” You heard a voice call out and turned on the horse to see one of your drunken regulars, stumbling towards you,

“Thas’ my favorite whore!” He slurred, “My favorite fuckin’ whore, y’can’t-“ he hiccuped and stumbled. The people of the town shuffled out of their houses to watch the action.

Joel smiled at the man coldly,

“That’s your favorite whore, huh?” He asked, standing over him. He rolled him over with the toe of his boot.

“M-my whore.” The man warbled.

Joel didn’t really know why but white hot rage shot through him. He inhaled sharply and stomped on the man’s face, hard. He heard you gasp from the back of his horse which only ignited him further.

“She’s my fuckin’ whore now!” He yelled and spat in his face.

Fueled by rage and power, he turned to his right hand with an idea.

“Get me the rope, John.”

The man writhed on the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Joel approached the back of his horse with the rope, making you shuffle back in fear.

“Relax darlin’ this ain’t for you.” He breathed and tied the end of it to the saddle. Then, he turned to the man and bent down, tying the rope around his hands above his head.

You watched in shock and heard people around you, whispering.

“Alright!” Joel said after he was done. He got up onto the horse in front of you.

“Hold on baby.” He said softly and you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his middle.

Adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of the freedom of the mountains, of riding out of this stupid town with a pretty girl on his horse and a worthless drunk at his mercy. He turned to see John, who was giving him a knowing smile, the one he always gave him before they rode.

“Let’s ride.” Joel said, his voice gravelly like the desert sand. Before you could blink, they urged their horses onward and took off at high speed. You couldn’t help but let out a little scream as you startled and grabbed at him.

Your noise of shock was substituted by the agonized screams of the man being pulled by Joel’s horse. Begging and crying just like you had earlier.

You turned and watched the town get smaller, Anna-Leigh stood at the front of the crowd and gave you a pitiful wave. You looked down and saw the bloody body of the man.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned back around, whimpering as you buried your face in Joel’s broad back.

Your tears stained his jacket as you rode away from the place that you had made your home. Towards a terrifying, shackled future.

-

As you journeyed on, you sat behind Joel on his horse, your hands clinging to his weathered leather jacket. His silence only made you more uneasy.

You feared for what the future held, gone was the stability of the brothel, the protection of your pimp. You were in a lawless land with a man who answered to no one. You’d heard the stories about Joel Miller, about the things he’d done.

You didn’t know how he’d treat a woman, if he’d be rough or gentle. Or if he’d throw you to his men. That was what you were the most afraid of.

You traveled for hours, eventually setting up camp as the sun began to set. As the air grew colder, Joel passed you a thick blanket to wrap around yourself. You sat in front of the fire with him as his men kept themselves occupied.

You brooded as you stared into the fire. You were still kind of in shock. This man had taken you away from everything, your life was gone. You didn't know if you were ever going to see your friends again.

You didn't realize, when you'd started spreading your legs for men, that this could happen. That you could be bought and sold like cattle.

You were scared for life with this godless outlaw. You didn't even know where you'd be living. Would you just sleep out in the desert like this? Would you spend the rest of your days being pounded by vicious men into the hard, dry earth?

"Want ‘sum meat?" Joel's gruff voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him apprehensively. He held out a piece of dried meat, offering it to you.

"Go on."

You slowly took it from him and took a bite like a scared wild animal. It was pretty good.

"Thank you." You said softly.

Joel looked satisfied with your response, you were both quiet for a while longer until you finally couldn't help yourself.

“Is this uh…” You spoke and he looked over to you, the fire casting sharp shadows across his handsome features.

“Is this how you normally live?” You finally asked, hoping you weren’t being disrespectful.

Joel shook his head after a moment.

“We’re travelin’ now.” He said, “but we got a place, nice and comfortable for a lady.”

You smiled a little bit at that last part.

“Thank you sir.” You wished you didn’t sound so scared, “I was just curious.”

“S’alright.” He grumbled out and began focusing on whittling a piece of wood.

-

The journey was hard but you tried your best to keep up. Joel never raised his voice at you, he didn’t really talk to you all that much in general. He hadn’t even touched you yet either. It seemed he was focused on getting everyone home.

His strength and capability drew you to him, but he still scared you.

After days of traveling, you finally reached where he and his men lived; a small grouping of cabins a mile or so away from a small village. It was just as well, since the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.

You still weren't sure what to think. Joel has been gentlemanly towards you so far. He still scared you though. His smoldering silence made you more uneasy than any unsavory man you'd ever encountered. He kept all his cards concealed, barely spoke, only when he needed to. His calm felt like that which preceded a storm, he commanded respect.

You didn't know what to expect from him.

You entered one of the larger cabins with Joel. It was nice, modest, and smelled of carpentry and tobacco. He set down his lantern on one of the wooden tables and dropped your things down with a slight groan.

His men unloaded everything, then they all nodded at each other and all left, closing the door and leaving you with Joel.

He moved purposefully, picking up wood from a corner and moving to the fireplace.

"Need to get a fire goin'." You heard his deep voice in the near darkness. The shadows thrown on his broad back made him seem even larger than he already was.

You didn't move, unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him mad.

After a fire was crackling he moved towards you silently, the wood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You resisted the urge to shrink away from him.

He was so close to you now, right in front of you.

"You were a real good girl on that trip." He said, his gravelly voice soft, the sound immediately went to your cunt and you were shocked at how aroused you suddenly became. 

You weren't sure what to say, you kept your eyes down, your hands behind your back.

He held your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

"You need to keep bein' good." He said, his tone a warning, "You don't cause any fuckin' trouble, you do what I say."

You felt breathless, the feeling of his hand on your face setting you on fire.

"Yes sir." You said quickly.

He smiled softly, "Good girl." He said gently and, to your shock, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You gasped a little.

"Remember," His voice was still soft and velvety, "I own you now." He gripped the back of your neck tightly, "That means you're mine and I decide what to do with you."

You swallowed the dry lump in your throat. You wanted to cry. You never liked being a prostitute, but at least at the brothel you were free, not a man's property. At least, you thought you'd been.

But Joel had paid for you fair and square. You were his now.

You whimpered a little at the thought and he grabbed your hair, yanking your head back,

"Answer me when I talk to you girl." He spat.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry!" you choked out.

Seeming satisfied, he let go and patted your cheek, then moved away. It felt like you could finally breathe.

"I'm gonna get us some supper ," He said, "You stay here, make yourself at home."

With that he was gone. You stood in the single room cabin, your heart rate finally slowing down.

You looked around, the place was big enough, it felt cozy. There were some old chairs by the fire with a small handcrafted table in front of them.

The other side of the room had a big soft looking bed, then there was an area to the right with pots, pans and other things for cooking. Besides a small room off to the side with a basin of water and a cracked mirror, that was it.

It wasn't much, but it was nice. It felt normal. There were blankets everywhere. Cotton, knitted, animal hide, what have you.

It all made you feel a little better, but not by that much.

Joel came back in and gathered fixings for dinner. He had you both sit in front of the fire outside along with his other men. You all sat on logs gathered round. His men were boisterous and shameless as usual, but they only did so much as leer at you.

The food was pretty good, and you appreciated the hot meal.

When you shivered a little bit, Joel slipped off his fringe jacket and put it around your shoulders. You looked up at him and couldn't help but smile a little. How sweet, how...considerate.

He looked down at you, and smiled back. The wrinkles around his brown eyes became more pronounced, making his normally dead piercing gaze softer, kinder. A warmth bloomed in your chest.

-

After dinner was done, you both returned to his cabin. He cleaned up as you got comfortable, changing into a long, off the shoulder white cotton dress that held your breasts nicely.

You settled into his bed. It smelled like wood, tobacco, whiskey, him. The blankets and pillows were soft and you tucked your legs up, opening your diary. Beginning a new entry, you didn't even know where to start. Your entries were definitely going to get more interesting.

You wrote for a while before you heard a man enter the cabin. Looking up, you saw Joel and began to stand up but he put up a hand, stopping you.

You watched him walk over to the fire, his knees creaking a little as he bent down and threw a fresh log in. 

He sighed and slumped back in one of the chairs, kicking off his boots, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt.

You observed him for a while, his beautiful hooked nose illuminated by the firelight, his hair looked soft, his tough expression relaxed a bit.

You finally lost interest and returned to your diary, desperately trying to explain to it how you came to be in this situation.

Joel took swigs from his flask and worked on his whittling as you wrote. He liked the peacefulness, he liked that there was a pretty girl in his bed. You had come with him so easily, been so obedient. Sure, you'd been upset initially, but he hadn’t expected you not to be.

You'd been good, so far. You followed his orders and you were thankful for all the things that he gave you.

Compliant little thing.

He suddenly got an idea.

-

You had already covered two pages in writing when he called your name.

You sat up quickly and set your diary on his bed, slid off and walked across the wooden floor until you were in front of him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, your heart pounding slightly.

“Take off your dress.” He said quietly.

The command caught you off guard and you froze for a moment.

“I-what?”

“Take off. Your dress.” He repeated flatly, “Wanna take a look at what’s mine.”

His words both made your stomach hurt and your pussy ache. It felt like your feet and hands were going numb.

You took him in, his hard stare, the yearning and darkness in his eyes. You realized you had been fooled earlier tonight by his chivalry.

You swallowed and nodded, you were used to this business. You took a deep breath and untied the top of your dress, letting the bodice fall loosely around your chest. You gathered the fabric and pulled it over your head. You weren't wearing any undergarments so as your white dress billowed to the ground, you were left completely naked for him.

You heard him make a noise of approval and he nodded, smiling.

"Knew you were a good girl."

He eyed you up and down. His gaze made goosebumps erupt on your skin, causing your nipples to harden as he examined you. He stayed in his chair, his legs spread. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your cunt...maybe Joel Miller would be gentle with you?

He finally stood up. Looming over you, he ran his large, rough hands over your arms, then your stomach and finally, up to cup and squeeze your breasts.

You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, Joel chuckled softly,

"I know baby," He rasped, "You've been waitin’ so long, been so patient."

You nodded quickly, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Your complete submissiveness to him was due to his power, but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for this strong, terrifying man to take you.

"Go get on the bed for me."

"Yes sir." You said softly and he let out an almost inaudible groan. You walked over to the bed and laid on your back, immediately spreading your legs.

Joel laughed a little and shook his head as though in disbelief,

"Damn, I picked the right fuckin’ girl didn't I?"

-

He sat on the bed beside you as you lay, your pussy still on display for him, your arms on either side of your head.

Completely his, ready to be taken by him. It kind of shocked you that you had surrendered and accepted this role so quickly. But then again, you didn't have much of a choice, this was the easy way.

"Damn." He sighed as he let his eyes fall over you. He took his time touching you, slowly playing with you. You let your eyes flutter shut as you let him explore you, taking in his newest possession.

He touched you everywhere, except where you needed him most. You squirmed and whimpered, moving your hips to get his fingers anywhere near your wet cunt.

Joel quickly landed a harsh spank on your pussy and you cried out.

"Cut that shit out." He growled, "You're gonn' take what I give you and be a grateful little whore."

You nodded quickly.

"Say it."

"I'm-I'm gonna be a grateful little whore."

"Thas' right."

His thick fingers dragged through your dripping cunt and you let out a moan. He drew closer to you, inhaling the dizzying scent of your arousal and spreading your slickness up to your clit.

"Joel..." You whined and rolled your hips against his fingers.

"Good girl," He said huskily, "Jus like that."

He moved his fingers faster and you moaned and arched your back. No man had ever taken his time with you in this way.

You felt the pleasure wash over you and you let your moans echo around the cabin freely. You'd learned it wasn't a bad thing to be loud, your old pimp had always told you it was good advertising.

After taking in your reaction to that, Joel shifted his focus and curiously buried two thick fingers into your cunt. You moaned and gasped at the way he stretched you, it felt fucking amazing.

"Joel!" You cried out and rocked your hips in time with his hand. Following his movements and somehow doing exactly what he wanted.

He liked how responsive you were, how obedient.

He pulled his fingers out of you without warning and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

Joel got on his knees on the bed, towering over you. He pulled his shirt off and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock.

You audibly gasped when you took in the sight of it and he laughed a little.

"What? Not expectin’ me to be this big?"

"I-no-sir I didn't-I mean-" You stuttered.

"S'alright sweetheart." He murmured, "You wanna touch me?"

You stared at his thick manhood. You had no idea how fucking big it was, you reached your hand out and wrapped it around him, your fingers just meeting each other around his girth.

Oh fuck.

You whined and pumped his length, spitting on it and letting it spread over him.

His cock was beautiful, powerful and imposing, resting rock hard and heavy between his strong thighs. His balls hung heavy, his dark hair running wild up to his round stomach.

You sighed, contentedly.

Joel smirked, his large hand resting on the side of your head, cradling you as your hand worked him.

You looked up at him submissively, your eyelashes fluttering. Joel moaned at the way you pleaded for him without even saying anything. You were like a siren. He'd known you were the one the minute he saw you down in that saloon.

He suddenly pushed you back, roughly. Making you yelp out in surprise as your head hit the soft pillows. He looked at you hungrily and grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you landed on your stomach, bouncing up off the bed a little.

He yanked your hips up so you were on your knees, grunting and breathing heavily. You moaned and arched your back, spreading yourself for him.

You felt the head of his cock swipe through your folds and your heart raced with anticipation. He took a sharp inhale before slamming into your cunt with a snarl.

"FUCK!" You cried out, not expecting the sudden burn or stretch. Even with how wet you were, his massive cock split you open.

You gasped and whined as Joel kept himself buried in your pussy, groaning as he rocked his hips, getting harder and more forceful.

You let yourself become undone by him and he started sliding out and slamming into you more, getting faster and more enthusiastic.

He grunted and breathed heavily through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. He threw his head back, using his grip on your hips to move you and fuck your pussy. The way you moaned and screamed for him only spurred him further, abusing your cunt.

He was in control. He bought you, he owned you, you were his whore. Forever.

"Oh fuck!" He groaned, gasping as those thoughts brought him even closer, along with the squeeze of your cunt.

You couldn't even speak, your face was pressed into the pillow as you cried and drooled. You'd lost track of how many times you'd come, just letting yourself be used by him at this point. You couldn't deny that it felt amazing.

Joel leaned over and put a paw-like hand over the back of your head, crushing your face into the bed as he leaned over. Putting his weight on you, he used that to fuck you even harder.

Your cries were muffled and you almost couldn't breathe. Joel's thrusts became sloppier and you heard his breathing turn into desperate moaning. He finally came, thick ropes of cum shooting directly into you making you gasp and moan. The men at the brothel were never allowed to cum in you. If a girl got pregnant, she either got it taken care of or she was out.

But you were Joel's now. And Joel was the one who decided what happened to you.

He fucked his cum into you more, causing it to spurt out. Then he pulled back, you took a deep breath and relaxed onto the bed, his cock still keeping you plugged up.

"That's right baby." He murmured, "Good girl."

You let out a beautiful whine, your cunt tightening around his cock as he stroked your hair away from your face.

He sighed as he knelt over your limp form, his cock still keeping his seed in you.

You didn't move, When he finally eased out of you gently, you winced and cried out at the loss.

"I know, I know." He said softly, petting your hair.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped at your cunt, getting most of the mess cleaned up. When he decided that was good, he eased your hips down and turned you over.

You wriggled into a comfortable position, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling up at him shyly.

He smiled at you again, the same one he'd given you at dinner. His normally cold eyes looked warm and safe.

You slipped your hands up around his neck, your eyes falling down to his lips under his scruffy beard.

He ran the rough pad of his thumb over your cheekbone,

"Such a good little whore." He said softly, then he leaned down and kissed you.

His lips weren't pressed against yours for that long but it still sparked electricity through you.

He pulled away and breathed out a laugh, "Alright, let's try an' get some sleep now."

"Yes sir." You said softly.

He put out the fire and the lantern and stripped off his pants before getting under the covers with you. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his softening cock pressing against your ass.

He buried his nose in your hair, each hand covering your tits, keeping them warm.

You nuzzled into his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been held like this. You turned around and buried your face in his hairy chest. 

You had…liked that. You really liked it. You knew how wrong this all was. You knew that to him you were just a whore, his property, but…maybe you could make peace with that? Maybe Joel Miller would be a good owner.

You hated that you were even thinking that.

His large hand rested on your back, holding you close to him as your exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.

-

THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU

This is my first Joel fic AND my first dead dove fic which I didn’t think I’d be able to write but I had sm fun writing this!! Thank you to @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark and all the girlies with their scary Joels who inspired me🖤

YEEHAW LETS RIDE🐎🐎🐎

[whyse7vn]

BREAK -

[ot7 x reader]

PEACE AND LOVE 😁💗

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jk: guys i’m lost ☹️

jimin: like emotionally??

tae: or sexually?

jk: woah um

idk anymore

jin: probably psychologically

yoongi: what’s new?

namjoon: jungkook you are in your kitchen

y/n: can confirm he is in the kitchen.

yoongi: loser

jin: what’s with the punctuation lmao

jk: woah i am in our kitchen

how did i get here

good morning guys ^0^

jin: it’s 7pm?

y/n: he’s hungover.

jk: yeah T-T

jimin: not surprised drank jin’s body weight in alcohol yesterday

jk: there was a lot going on :((

yoongi: so you result to alcoholism?

namjoon: it’s better than resulting to violence!!!

y/n: hoseok can’t relate.

hobi: i said i’m sorry 😓

jin: jimin i’ve thought about it and i really think you’re projecting when it comes to this weight thing

jimin: project a vegetable

jin: project a cure for the body issues you CEARLY have

namjoon: guys

jk: ants playing ddr in my head rn

i’m so upset

also how do i take about a loan?

i want a loan

namjoon: jungkook you do not need a loan

jk: ok

i’m sorry

namjoon: jungkook you better not be crying right now

jk: i’m not crying

y/n: he is crying

but that is not important rn.

can we talk about yesterday because what the fuck?

tae: YESSS i’ve been waiting for this

whoever wants the video of hobi punching the shit out of jaehyun you have to me pay at least 4k

namjoon: what is wrong with you

tae: if you want it with sound i have to charge extra

tae changed the gc name to “HOBI GOT HANDS”

y/n: not funny.

namjoon: taehyung please

jin: can’t believe hobi fr punched him

yoongi: i can

hobi: y/n you still mad??

jin: she’s using punctuation

she’s furious ☠️

jimin: sHe’S fUrIoUs 🤓☝🏼

who tf says that

jin: OHMYGOD GET OF MY DICK FOR ONE SECOND I’M BEGGING

jimin: sHe’S fUrIoUs 🤓☝🏼

tae: is she fast too lmao

y/n: shut the fuck up taehyung

tae: okay!

y/n: my boyfriend is fine btw

if any of you actually care

yoongi: don’t

hobi: i’m sorry

y/n: you laughed after you made him bleed

yoongi: didn’t you laugh too lol??

y/n: OKAY I DID A LITTLE

but that’s before i realised hoseok hit him for real

jin: you can hit someone for fake?

tae: you can watch her smile fall after the second punch in the video it’s really funny actually!!!!!!!

y/n: didnt i tell you to shut the fuck up?

tae: you did

i’m sorry

shutting up

like rn ong 🙏🏼

🤐

jin: ?

jimin: it means on god

jin: stop talking to me

jimin: sorry just making sure you got it

slang sure has changed since 1781!!!

jin: 1781????????

jk: omg that’s that one hamilton song

hobi: there is no hamilton song called 1781

jimin: are we talking about the 1975

tae: the what

hobi: aren’t they white?

tae: they????

jimin: HAMILTONS WHITE????

yoongi: the real one is

jimin: there’s a fake hamilton??

tae: hamilton a they/them?

namjoon: you can’t say that

y/n: why are we talking about hamilton?

tae: why can’t i say that?

am i pissing off the feminists? ☠️☠️☠️

namjoon: this has nothing to do with feminism

jin: i’m a feminist

tae: did my they/them hamilton question offend you??

jin: tf does that even mean

jimin: born in 1066 doesn’t even know what pronouns are

jin: fuck you and ur proverbs

y/n: he literally said pronouns

tae: i’m a prosexhaver

yoongi: you have stds

hobi: personally i would like to shoot taehyung

jk: sex haver????

jin: virgin

y/n: he makes me sick

jimin: oh i HATE him

namjoon: deep breaths

tae: ???

wtf

why did you all just turn on me like that?

guys are you jealous of my sex having abilities?

everyone be honest now

y/n: you clearly don’t know what shutting the fuck up includes

tae: ok i’m sorry

never speaking again starting in like

an hour

i promise

y/n: how about now

tae: 30 mins?

y/n: kys

tae: stop flirting omg 🤭

yoongi: idiot

jk: WAIT OMG?

HOBI FR PUNCHED JAEHYUN??/! ö

jin: you were literally there??

jk: I THOUGHT THAT WAS A DREAM

OHMYGOD

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

HEHEHE

OMG HOBI THATS CRAZY

UR CRAZY

hobi: i’m not crazy

jimin: like crazy

y/n: you think it’s funny??

jk: NO

no

absolutely not wtf

????????

hoseok why would you do that?

that’s so messed up

shame on you really

shame on you

jimin: ur pathetic actually

namjoon: anyways hobi it was wrong of you to result to violence just because you were jealous

please apologise

y/n please accept his apology you know hobi wouldn’t never want to upset you on purpose he loves and cares for you deeply

kiss and make up guys

you don’t want to fuck up our group dynamic do you???

no?

didn’t think so!!

wow would you look at that we are all friends again

smooth like butter 🧈 💛

dynamite 🧨

borahae in this bangtan shit for life 💜💜

y/n: kys

jk: KISS???????????

jin: hobi was jealous?

hobi: NO?????????

yoongi: interesting

jimin: yeah that’s crazy

hobi: I WASN’T I SWEAR

namjoon: you weren’t???

oh

my fault

hobi: yeah your fault

maybe ur just projecting lol

jimin: yeah calling bullshit

if you didn’t punch him out of jealously

what did you punch him for???

tae: it’s cuz he was like feeling her up right in front of our faces right??

have he no respect?

jk: respect no he have?

tae: stop

jk: sorry

tae: actually nvm you were agreeing with me

agree some more

jk: i agree some more

tae: see?

jk: see??

tae: what a nasty pervert freak of a man

namjoon: look in a mirror

jimin: that’s crazy because i wasn’t talking you

tae: right joon shut the hell up

jk: zip it

jimin: you as in YOU taehyung and jungkook

i was talking to hobi not you guys

jk: oh

tae: we talk for hobi

hobi: no you don’t

tae: we ARE hobi

jk: i’m not hobi

or am i?????

ohmgod am i???

yoongi: ur all so annoying

y/n: ok hoseok wasn’t jealous are you stupid??

why would he be jealous?????

hobi: right!

i was drunk

jin: i swear you didn’t drink last night??

hobi: ur not helping?

jimin: i’m telling you it’s bullshit

tae: ok now let’s talk about how that was coolest thing hobi’s ever done in his life should of tagged me in fr fr

i would of gone crazy no joke 💯💯

we would of got him so bad hobi

#dreamteam 😍

namjoon: taehyung

tae: what?

i’m just saying

y/n: say one more thing

tae: i’m sorry

sorry

SORRY 😢

jimin: so the plot thickens!!

hobi: there is not plot

there is no jealousy

jin: ok why did you punch him then

hobi: i was drunk i said that already

jin: you DIDN’T drink

guys why is he lying to us

do you not trust us???

come on step into my office hoseok

open up to daddy jin

y/n: ew???

jin: ew?

y/n: that’s what i said

jin: but in spainnnnnn

y/n: stop

jin: 🫰🏻

yoongi: hobi do you want to fuck y/n?

hobi: what

yoongi: answer the question

y/n: yoongi wtf???

namjoon: yoongi please

jk: DO NOT ANSWER DO NOT ANSWER DO NOT ANSWER

hobi: i’m not answering that wtf

jimin: i think we all know his answer anyways

yoongi: yeah

but i want him to say it

tae: waitttt kinky

say it hoseok 😋😋😋

namjoon: can we not rn…

jimin: tae you definitely need to add him to ur stupid little group chat

tae: ummmm

it’s not stupid it’s real actually

jk: real men only!!!

tae: hobi are you a real man?

hobi: what

tae: are you real??

hobi: yeah

jk: say it

hobi: say what?

tae: i’m real

hobi: i’m real?

tae: REAL UGLY

HAHAHA

jk: LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

hobi: u guys are so unfunny it hurts

tae: got you lolz

namjoon: taehyung stop talking

tae: forgive me? 🥺

hobi tried to come for what we stand for

hobi: i literally didn’t???

it was jimin

jin: hey wait what group chat??

let me in what the hell

yoongi: no

jin: ur in the gc too??

yoongi: am i?

jk: he is

tae me joon and yoongi 💓

namjoon: can you stfu.

jin: EVEN JOON??????

let me in or ur all going to hell

y/n: yeah me too wtf??

tae: jin

between me and you

your invite may arrive soon

i’ve seen your eyes wondering as of late

jin: ????

what

yeah ok nvm!

i think i’ll live not being in ur gc

and if this is about what i think it’s about

count me out

jk: aw man :/

tae: wow so many haters in this life

you’ll regret this

you’ll be begging on ur knees to join real soon

y/n: WHAT ABOUT ME HELLO????

jk: hiiiiiii ^_^

y/n: ykw nvm idc

yoongi: you do

y/n: not

yoongi: yeah ok :3

namjoon: there is no group chat

jk: ??? yes there is don’t be silly joon 😂😂

namjoon: OHMYGOD LEARN HOW TO TAKE A FUCKING HINT

can we move on

wtf why am i asking you guys

i’m the leader

we are moving on.

y/n: THIS IS SEGREGATION

jk: ohmygod is this a race thing???

namjoon not again

jimin: LMFAOOOSJDJJK

y/n: i mean i was talking about gender

but this could be a race thing

is this a race thing????

jk: OHMYGOD NAMJOON UR A SEXIST TOO????

i thought that was just jimin

jin: no ur right

jk: oh ok!

jimin: can you stop

i’m NOT a sexist ok

but hobi DID punch jaehyun

hobi: wtf is ur problem

jimin: sorry i needed to put everyone back on track xx

hobi: there is no track

jimin: no there is a track and i put everyone back on it

jk: train track

yoongi: lay on one?

tae: LAYOVER YES

i know that album

it’s really good

indigo flopped

namjoon: shut up shut up shut up shut up

tae: so like gf wyd rn? *kicks feet giggles*

yoongi kicked tae out of “HOBI GOT HANDS!!”

yoongi: not sorry

jk: it’s ok i forgive you

yoongi: shut up

jk: ok

y/n: he told me we should go on a break…

jk: i had a break on my bike once

then it broke

so i had a breakless bike

and i couldn’t brake

so to stop i would just pedal into walls

my bike to this day has no breaks it makes me sad

namjoon: jungkook please just get a new bike

and y/n i’m sorry to hear about your break

jk: ok >.<

y/n: thanks ig

namjoon: wait

??????

break

ur on break

with jaehyun?

y/n: no i’m on a break with fucking usher

jin: A BREAK?????????????

jimin: WOAH WAIT HOLD ON

yoongi: is he fucking stupid???

jk: USHER???

hobi: no jungkook she’s talking about jaehyun

jk: oh

hobi: jaehyun

nct jaehyun your friend jaehyun.

jk: OHMYGOD WAIT WHAT WHATWHENDHDHDJDJD WHAT OHMYGOF OHMSYSH DKEJEJDJG SISHDJXMISSHENDODJDIDUSJEJFJDKDKFNDBDNDMDNDFNFNFNFMMF

jk added tae to “HOBI GOT HANDS!!”

jk: LOOK

tae: hey guys u missed me 😁?

jk: LOOK

tae: looking

jk: LOOKSKKSKSKDKDKDDKK

tae: holy shit

y/n are you ok??

jimin: THIS IS INSANE

y/n: yeah fuck him and fuck his break

yoongi: i’ll break his neck

jin: jungkook get ur friend

jk: JSNDNDNNDJJDJDFJNDJDJDJDJD ahshshxhdnxndnxnd JAJSHDBSBDBXBXNXNXJXJXJZHHXHXBSHSHSHXHZJZJXJXJXJJXJXJJDD SHSNDNDNDNDNXNDJJDXJXJXJX DHXJDJDNDNDNXXNZN

tae: woah

hobi: but are you like actually ok???

y/n: never been better

namjoon: no fr it’s ok if you’re upset

y/n: i’m not upset

jimin: wow

so like

wow

idk how to comfort people namjoon say something

namjoon: there there?

jin: chin up!!!!!

jk: I AM ALSO SINGLE THIS IS SUCH A COINCIDENCE LIKE WE ARE BOTH SINGLE AT THE SAME TIME WOW LIKE YEAH UR ON A HREAK BUT UR BASICALLY SINGLE THATS REALLY CRAZY LIKE HAHA LOL WE ARE SINGLE LOOK AT US TWO SINGLE PEOPLE WHO HAPPEN TO LIVE TOGETHER MAYBE WE SHOULD IDK LIKE HEHEH JSJSJJSJDJ

yoongi: when are we jumping him??

i can leave now

y/n: shut up

yoongi: you coming over?

y/n: no?

yoongi: boo

y/n: i’m going to hobi’s

hobi: you are??

jimin: to fight or fuck??

y/n: shut up

jin: that’s crazy

hobi broke up a happy home

hobi: i’m genuinely so sorry

i didn’t mean to

y/n: wasn’t even ur fault don’t apologise

he was a acting weird for a while

wanted to live in denial but it’s whatever idc!!!!!!!

tae: you clearly do care and that’s ok

y/n: i DON’T

tae: y/n

y/n: taehyung

jimin: ew like why is taehyung being all serious i hate it

tae: cuz this is serious

y/n: it’s not

tae: it’s ok to be upset

y/n: i know and i’m NOT

tae: y/n

y/n: i’m not upset omg????

stop being weird i’m like so ok it’s crazy

jimin: like crazy lolz

jin: that is the second time you’ve made that joke and it was just as unfunny as it was the first time you said it

jimin: why are you keeping tabs on me and what i say get a LIFE

jin: you make me want to kms

jimin: do it

jin: namjoon get him before i get violent

namjoon: guys can you see we have bigger issues going on rn

be serious for once

y/n: i’m fine

there is no serious issue

i’m ok

no tears

no noting

i’m fine ok? ok

tae: y/n

y/n: tae stop

ykw ur pissing me off

ur all pissing me off

y/n left “HOBI GOT HANDS!!”

hobi: oh wow

jin: i didn’t even do anything fr

jimin: i blame tae

yoongi: jaehyun is a bitch

jk: do you think she’ll let me kiss her now?

namjoon: jungkook shut up

tae do NOT message her

and yoongi do not even THINK about leaving your house rn

i think we need to have a group meeting or something

—

sorry this sucks i just needed a reason to get rid of jaehyun so we could move forward LMAO i’m sorry better things coming soon 😁🙏🏽

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @sopebubbles-replies @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin

[markster666]

Not a want but A NEED. I NEED. A vox x fem, overlord! reader x Alastor. The reader's a famous model for Velvette's fashion company and is a mirror demon ! She can travel + communicate thru mirrors not needing any electronics at all & somewhat like Alastor she can spawn some creatures/souls that made a deal with her but they're just glass.

Dunno if that's too specific and going to OC territory but atp I don't care even if you don't do any of those, I'm just so thirsty for a vox x overlord! reader x alastor fic LMAO.

Hehehe I will put a pin of this. Not going into OC territory! Thank you for a more detailed prompt I can work with. Just keep in mind I’m participating in Kinktober rn so I’m already writing a one-shot a day and I would want more plot with this one, so it may take a bit for me to get to! Lots of love.

[magicalbats]

Flesh-Devouring Part 3

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18,592

Warnings: light spanking in this one (I know, tomato tomato) lots of angst and fluffy stuff, mentioned familial death, cunnilingus, blowjobs, some talk of harder more BDSM type tingz hehehe

A/N: our dear reader was on her best behavior in this one so no real punishments … but we’ll see how long that lasts. 😏

Header credit goes to the oh so lovely @jymwahuwu💕

⭐

He’d called this maintenance, but you’re not so sure that’s the right word for it. That sounds more … impartial than it really is. 

You’re a little too caught up in the buzzing high of a blissfully empty mind to parse it any further than that though, and you squeeze the back of the chaise lounge hard enough to make the polished wood creak under your fingers. 

“Thank you, sir.”

The responding crack of his palm across your bare ass makes you tip forward with a stilted little gasp, but there’s not really anywhere for you to go. 

Sprawled across the cushions at an angle, Wriothesley has you kneeling over his lap with your shuddering back facing out at the rest of the office. The power of his swing does not feel at all diminished like this, even though he’d called it maintenance and his intent was not to punish but to reinforce. It’s almost unsettling how adept he is at this oft times confusing game he’s coaxed you into being a willing participant of. The way he firmly corrects any unwanted behaviors with a hard, strict hand and then rewards the good with soft words, softer praise and the most mind numbing pleasure you’d ever experienced. 

In retrospect it probably shouldn’t have come as any great surprise that you would find yourself so easily pulled into his pace given the duke’s talents in this particular … pursuit. But it does still leave you reeling every time you think about how much you actually enjoy it. 

“Ooh … thank you, sir.” 

You seethe through your teeth, head hanging between your outstretched arms even as you timidly arch your back to better present your bottom to him. The hand he’s got anchored on your hip, that burly forearm curled around your front to prevent you from defensively hunching in on yourself and keeping you in position, gives you a tight squeeze of approval. It drags a little higher to trace the curve of your body and it leaves a tingling warmth behind in the wake of that stilted pass, making you whimper softly when he nudges just under the hem of your jumper. He doesn’t push any farther than that though. Just teases you with the suggestion, lets his heavy palm rest over the center of your fluttering stomach as if in a silent promise of more to come, when you were ready for it. 

It makes you feel ten times hotter than you already are, and you keen very softly into the static charged air. 

“You’re very welcome, little miss.” He murmurs to you, low and frustratingly unphased given your own jumbled up state. “Shall we go over everything again, or do you need a few more spanks on that cute bottom first?” 

You close your eyes, a stiff tremor working through you when his other hand — the one that’s been swatting your ass for the last some odd minutes — smooths over the curve of your sore behind to gently rub the hurt in. The skin feels flushed and tingly under his rough worn palm, calluses scraping against the lingering burn of his handprints, and you have to force yourself to draw a clipped breath to respond with. All you wanted to do was stay lost in that swimming daze of adrenaline and potent endorphins, but of course he always reels you back in before you can really sink, and you couldn’t quite decide if it was cruel of him or generous. 

“We will be going to a charity fundraiser together tomorrow night.” You finally manage to intone after gathering up enough of your fractured mind to think straight. It was so hard to do, but well worth it when you earn a savory, validating pinch on your thrumming behind. 

“Good. And in what capacity will we be going?” 

You hesitate only a moment. “Romantically, sir.” 

Drawing a slow, undeniably pleased breath, Wriothesley leans up to press his mouth to the small of your back, making you twitch at the intimate contact. “Thank you for doing me the honors, lovely girl. It will be the greatest pleasure of my life to have you on my arm.” 

“You exaggerate …” 

“I do no such thing.” The playful note in his voice brings fresh heat to your face but, luckily, he sits back to continue on with the review instead of pushing you on it. “When will you be ready for me?” 

“Six o’clock.” You huff. “On the dot. Just as his grace has instructed.” 

“And not a minute later. Because what’s going to happen if I come to pick you up and you’re not ready for me to spirit you away to a decadent hall full of stuffy aristocrats and over indulgent foods?” 

Your mouth slowly drops open but nothing immediately comes out. It takes you a beat or two to find your voice again. “… I’ll get a spanking.” 

Wriothesley hums a low sound of approval, giving your ass another savory squeeze. “And a very thorough one at that. Not like the one you’ve gotten today. I’m sure you know I won’t hesitate to take you right over my knee even in that pretty little dress I got for you.”

Pussy clenching tight, you fitfully rear back against his hand with a thin, choked off gasp. “Yes, sir.” 

“Excellent. You’re a very good girl for me, you know that?” You feel him bend close to you again, and a surprised squeak punches out of your mouth when his lips press into the swell of your sore butt cheek. Eyes big as saucers, you twist your neck around to look back at him where he’s bent over your lower half without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it. 

Your stomach wrenches at the sight. Just the thought of having his face so close to the spot between your legs makes you feel indescribably dizzy and lightheaded, and you waver in uncertainty there on the cushions. 

“Y - your grace?” 

“There’s nothing to fret over, lovely girl. I’m still playing by your rules.” Giving the heated skin one more kiss, Wriothesley slowly sits back once again to look at you. “Although it’s certainly a test of my self control when I have you spread out over me like this I have no actual intentions of betraying your trust in me, little miss. You can rest assured of that. More importantly, however, we still have one more thing to cover. What’s going to happen after the fundraiser is over?” 

“I … I’m going to invite you back to my flat and have you over for tea.”

“Good. And what else?” 

Somehow this is infinitely more embarrassing than having his mouth so close to the intimate parts of your body, and your face feels like it’s on fire as you carefully turn your face to press your cheek against the back of the lounge. Shy, and hiding from him. “W - we are going to have a nice evening chatting and sharing each other's company, and — and I’m … his grace is going to teach me how to … how to pleasure him.” 

The last is little more than a mouse squeak, so small and faltering it hardly even registers in the air. But Wriothesley hums his approval as if you’d said it loud and clear, neither pushing you to repeat it nor giving you a hard time for your stammering hesitance. 

“What a good, good girl you are. Always so sweet for me.” He praises you, soft and quiet, yet the masculine edge behind the words just makes you flush hotter still. “I hope you know just how very proud I am of you. Such a precious thing you are … is little miss ready for her reward now?” 

The hand on your ass slides inward, dipping around the pudgy curve of your inner thigh to tentatively, tauntingly nudge against your cunt from behind. Every single muscle in your body instantly locks up even as you push back on him with a threadbare, deeply frazzled moan. You catch the sound of him chuckling at your reaction over the pounding in your ears, and you loose a mewling whine when he obliges you, firmly cupping you in his palm. 

Your hips stutter when he rubs you like that, and you quickly fall into the rhythm he sets for you. Rolling your pelvis in time with the press of his blocky fingers, you lean heavily into the back of the lounge and reach down to grab at the hand on your stomach. You hesitate to do it, shuddering and stiff, but you quickly find the courage to pull him up higher. Wriothesley lets you guide him wherever you want, wherever you're ready for him to touch you, and his rough skin leaves the prickle of fire in its wake as you tug him further up under your shirt.

You feel well and truly mindless with it by the time you finally get him directed up to your chest. He reaches higher of his own accord then, dragging you now where you’re still latched on to him, and closes his hand around the meaty swell of one breast. The almost direct contact seems to punch the air right out of your lungs, making you lurch and sway unsteadily on the couch, but he remains as steady as ever. Like an implacable wall of heavy muscle and stifling body heat beside you, he doesn’t even falter when he starts to fondle you through the lace cups of your bra. 

“You really love having your tits played with, don’t you?” He murmurs, directing blunt fingertips to the straining bud of your nipple so he can pluck at it. “Perhaps I should tell you a bit about what I would like to do to them someday soon, if you would permit me? I have a sneaking suspicion you’re going to like what I have planned for you …” 

“Gods!” You hiss, your back bowing so hard under his ministrations that your spine aches in protest. Between his hands you felt like freshly wrought clay, so tender and vulnerable it was all you could do just to keep yourself in one piece. Swiveling your hips a little quicker, a bit more urgently, you carefully withdraw your hand from under your shirt so you can reach up and clutch at the back of the lounge in two death grips. It felt like the only thing that was going to keep you tethered to reality at this point. “Please tell me, your grace … I — I want to know … I want to hear it!”

Wriothesley leans in then, pressing his roguish mouth to your trembling shoulder in a fleetingly brief kiss before tipping his mouth towards your ear. “Then listen carefully, pretty girl. I’ll tell you as many times as you like, of course, but do try not to let your mind wander too much.” 

You squeak at the puff of hot air against your neck, the way his rumbling voice seems to penetrate straight into your brain to consume you, smother you, blanket you in the weight of what he’s saying to you. And your cunt positively slicks against his hand, coating him in sticky arousal that smears with each circling motion of your hips to make for a truly obscene glide against one another. 

“First, I think I’ll start by simply kneading them in my hands until you’re begging me for more. You always sound so pretty when you beg me for things … and having you ask me, nice and sweet, to play with your tits would be music to my ears indeed. I want to hear you say it, lovely girl. Hear you tell me exactly how much you want it.” 

You felt sick with want for it, but he keeps talking before you can form a semi coherent sentence on your heavy, lolling tongue. 

“Then I want to take my time just teasing your cute nipples until they’re so hard and stiff it hurts. You’ll really be begging me then, I’d imagine. So needy and worked up, but without anything you can do about it. You’ll be completely at my mercy, you know. In fact, I have half a mind to bind your wrists over your head just so I can enjoy you to my heart's content and all you’ll be able to do is take it. Would you enjoy that, sweetness? How does being helpless and spread out underneath me sound?” 

An uncontrollable, violent shudder tears through you so hard that your grinding hips come to a sudden halt. It doesn’t matter though. Even without you following the pace of his hand any longer, Wriothesley just keeps rubbing, rubbing, rubbing while the hand under your shirt offers your stiff teat a promising tug. 

“That’s what I thought.” He laughs, quiet and thin. Ever so slightly strained. “And once I’ve got your nipples so hard it makes your toes curl, I think I’ll take my mouth to them next. You’ll be quite sensitive by then, you know. I'm really looking forward to that, if I’m being honest … I wonder what kinds of pretty little sounds you’ll make while I’m sucking on your tits, hm? What do you think, lovely girl? What kind of sounds are you going to make for me?” 

You outright keen, high and faltering. You were tipping dangerously close to the edge now. If he would just rub you a bit quicker, a bit harder … “Y - your grace - -“

“Shh. I’ve got you. You’re almost there, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy tightening up on my hand and it feels so good, doesn’t it? Such an insatiable thing you are …” Pausing, Wriothesley draws a careful breath before continuing in an even more hushed voice that sounds like exquisite silk in your ringing ears. “I’ve mentioned this once before, but I have a few toys I’d like to introduce you to. Not right away, of course. I know how sensitive and easy to overwhelm you can be … but I also know what a sweet little masochist you are. I know you secretly like the pain, so I’m sure you’re going to like my toys. I have some mean little clamps that I know would look perfect on these gorgeous tits of yours.” 

He accompanies that with a tight squeeze on your breast, fingers digging mercilessly into soft flesh, and you start to tip. Your chest heaves with the weight of your impending release and it threatens to suffocate you, even as you helplessly rock between his hands with mindless, blubbering whimpers that seem to echo off the walls. You were going to cum. You were right there on the edge, you just needed that one last push. That final nudge to send you careening into a free fall. You needed — you needed - -

“I’m going to take a great deal of pleasure in clamping your nipples, little miss. I just know you’re going to shake and squeal for me. You’re soaking my hand just listening to me talk about it, imagine how good it’s going to feel when I actually do it. Are you looking forward to it as much as I am?” 

You obediently jerk your head in a frantic nod, struggling just to focus. “Y - yes, sir! I am!” 

“Would you like a little preview?” 

Eyes slipping shut in overwhelmed bliss, you eagerly arch your back to shove your chest further out. “Yes, sir! Please, sir!” 

“Hmm. I'm sure the real deal will be a bit different but,” Directing his fingers to your tightly coiled nipple, he closes them around the engorged bud to make your chest hitch. “It should feel something like this.” 

Wriothesley squeezes then, pinching down so hard your mouth flies open as if to scream but nothing comes out. Tears spring up in your eyes at the sharp jolt of pain that shoots through you, and the coil suddenly snaps. Lurching forward with a wounded, faltering sound of distress, you desperately clutch at the back of the couch while you mindlessly judder and buck through your orgasm like a wild creature in its death throes. It’s such an intense, all encompassing release that you almost don’t know what to do with it, and the way he continues to hold onto your throbbing teat even when you weakly jerk against the pain just seems to make it even more powerful. You feel it all in stunning high definition so exquisite it almost hurts to cum that hard. 

But, as always, you slowly start to come down from it some moments later and you finally slump there on your knees, gasping raggedly for air. He keeps up his pinching hold on your poor nipple for another moment longer until you eventually whimper and then he gradually lessens the pressure. The sharp, buzzing sting that rushes in to pierce the fog left behind after your climax has you hissing in discomfort, but he’s quick to tenderly caress the sore bud to work out some of the pain. 

“You really are a masochist of the highest order, aren’t you?” He murmurs fondly after a prolonged moment of quiet, once your breathing has started to even out. 

Shifting around gingerly, you turn your head to look at him through the heavy fall of your drooping lashes. “And you are the very definition of a sadist, my lord. I do believe I’ve heard tale of a marquis from long ago who shared similar interests as yours. You wouldn’t happen to be related to him, would you?” 

Chuckling, Wriothesley gives your still thrumming cunt a final pat of approval before withdrawing his hand from between your legs, bringing it up to squeeze around your waist instead. “I’m afraid not, but I’m sure we would have had a great many things to discuss with one another. That’s a pretty obscure reference, though. Are you more well versed in the depraved than I’ve given you credit for, little miss?” 

“N - no.” You quickly insist, shyly looking elsewhere now. “I’ve only heard this or that in passing, but I never paid it much attention. I had no idea I would one day be living that very nightmare out in the flesh!” 

“So dramatic.” He softly teases, a bemused look settling across his face as he carefully gathers you up so he can tug you over onto his lap. You whimper softly at the casual manhandling, and the flush quickly returns to your cheeks as he gets you settled on top of the hard press of his cock. Ignoring your squirming, he gets his arms wrapped around you so he can simply hold you against him even when you issue a low whine of protest. “Be still. I know you have a near limitless reserve of energy stored up in that small body of yours, but sometimes it’s nice just to sit, isn’t it?” 

You try not to pout, but you can’t quite seem to keep the whiny inflection out of your voice. “But you haven’t been tended to yet, your grace. It doesn’t seem fair to you …” 

“It’s not so much about being fair.” He says, perfectly amicable as he lifts a hand to toy idly with your hair. “If you want the truth, let’s just say I’ll make a bit more of a mess than you do and I don’t have much interest in cleaning up the evidence of our fun little activities. It will go away in time as it always does. Nothing to worry about. Besides,” Bending his head close, Wriothesley kisses the top of your head. “You will have your chance to tend to me as much as you want tomorrow night.” 

Listlessly, you reach up to tug at and fiddle with his loose tie. You were looking forward to the time you were to spend with him so much that you honestly wouldn’t have minded skipping the fundraiser altogether. “Must we go? The ball is only a formality, isn’t it?”  

He draws a slow breath that presses his broad chest up into you, lifting you slightly, and then lets it out on a terse exhale. “I’m afraid so, little miss. Rubbing elbows with the aristocracy isn’t exactly my idea of a good time either, but my presence would be sorely missed if I decided to skip out on it. You know how much they stand on pomp and expectation.” 

“But you are part of the aristocracy, your grace?” 

A beat of quiet passes over the office, heavy in its occupancy of something still left unsaid, but at length he just breathes out another clipped sigh. 

“Yes, I suppose I am.” 

Something niggles in the back of your mind, but you decide not to press him any further for the time being. The intimate, comfortable atmosphere inside his office was too sacred to disrupt with any more difficult conversations than what it had already seen play out between the two of you. You liked being here with him, snuggled up on his lap as you are, and you didn’t want to ruin it. A small part of you was even a little scared that you would ruin it, somehow, so you keep your thoughts to yourself. There was always tomorrow evening, when you were safely sequestered with him in the privacy of your own home to broach such topics. 

You wonder, distantly, if you’ll be brave enough to actually take the plunge. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The dress Wriothesley had insisted on gifting you despite your protests on the matter is lovely, and it fits you like a glove. A dark, slinky maroon of lace and ruffles, sheer panels that flutter around your ankles like playful specters dancing endlessly, a tight boned-corset bodice and more ribbons than you conceivably knew what to do with. You’d thought it all rather much at first, but he’d assured you it was nothing compared to what some of the other ladies in attendance would be wearing. 

Much to your gobsmacked surprise, he was right. 

The hall he leads you into is full of lords and noblewomen dressed in all manner of costume, from the soft and demure to the frankly bizarre. Right off the bat you spot a woman with a small toy boat perched atop the complicated piles of her hair, the immaculately polished pearls dotted through her sinfully dark tresses giving the illusion of a ferry navigating the starry night sea. Somewhat self consciously, you reach up to touch your own hair, and Wriothesley snorts a quiet laugh beside you. 

“Don't give it a second thought, pretty girl.” He tells you softly, the continuous din of partygoers and the playing orchestra set up along the far wall doing well to conceal his words from any nosy potential eavesdroppers. “You look lovely tonight, and much more appealing than anyone else here. In fact, I have a very strong urge to go find somewhere quiet just so I can ravage you in peace.” 

“Oh, stop that!” You hiss, sending him a heated look of warning to go with the tight squeeze you give his arm. “This is neither the time nor the place, your grace. Save it until afterwards!” 

“That is a very tall order you’re making me shoulder right now, my cruel love.” He sighs rather lamentably, putting on a convincingly put out tone. 

Your cheeks warm dizzingly fast at the first mention of that dreaded ‘L’ word, in jest or not, but on this you stand firm. “I’m serious, you insufferable scoundrel! If you humiliate me here tonight, I will never, ever forgive you for so long as I - -“

“Yes, yes. Your delicate sensibilities are in good hands, little miss. Nothing to fret over so much.” Wriothesley assures you, giving your tightly clenched hand a pat. “Now, where would you like to start your evening first? At the buffet table or shall we mingle a bit?” 

Nervously, you chew on your bottom lip as you glance around the room. You didn’t know anyone here besides him, and that knowledge has you clinging to his arm like a lost child. This was exactly why you’d been so hesitant to accept his invitation and he’d had to patiently talk you into it over many, many hours spent in his office. Even putting aside the fact you hadn’t had anything to wear, facilitating the excuse need for him to buy you a dress for the occasion, you were still just a lowly civil servant at best. You didn’t really belong here, did you? 

“You have nothing to be scared of, sweet girl.” Wriothesley tells you after a long stretch when you neither move nor speak. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time, and I won’t let you out of my sight for so much as a moment. If any of these other ladies here try to accost you, I’ll come straight to your rescue.” 

“Thank you, your grace, but that’s - -“ You cut yourself off with a painfully sharp intake of air, frantically clutching at his arm with both hands now. 

“And what’s suddenly got you so worked up?” 

“T - that’s the honorary Iudex himself standing over there! I don’t even believe it …” 

Chuckling now, he follows your line of sight across the room. “Is this your first time meeting him? Shall I introduce you?” 

You tip your face up at him with widened eyes. “Are you really on such familiar terms with monsieur Neuvillette that you can just … just — walk up to him and say hi?” 

“Mm, something like that.” He concedes, tugging you into motion even though you’re a veritable mess of nerves and would much rather dig your heels in. “I do share a history with him and we’re on friendly speaking terms, but I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close or anything. I can tell you more about it later, if you’re interested. For now though I just want you to make sure you give him that pretty smile of yours, okay?” 

Fluster creeps up your neck at an alarming rate, thoroughly disarming you to the point that you indeed find yourself smiling like a blithe idiot when he pulls you right up to the Chief Justice of Fontaine without so much as a polite pause of hesitation. The tall man turns at your approach with an almost otherworldly grace, disengaging completely from the man he’d been speaking to when he sees who it is. 

“Ah, mister Wriothesley. So good to see you, and your …” He trails off, gaze drifting to where you’re latched onto the duke’s arm. “Lovely companion for the evening?” 

Greeting him with his usual idle amiability, Wriothesley introduces you accordingly and you quickly bob a nervous curtsy. “It is an honor to meet you, your … honor.” 

Your cheeks positively burn at the way Wriothesley laughs but monsieur Neuvillette only graces you with a small, infinitely kind smile. “The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure. I don’t believe we’ve ever properly met before but I’m quite certain I’ve seen you fluttering about the Palais Mermonia from time to time. Do you work there?” 

“In some capacity,” You stammer out, briefly explaining what you do and how you’ve been working with the Duke of Meropide recently to implement certain beneficial changes to the lives of the inmates there. It’s so subtle you almost miss it entirely, but something flashes behind those peculiar lilac irises at that and you have no idea what to make of it. Before you can even begin to pick it apart to find the meaning, however, Wriothesley has changed the subject to more present matters concerning the fundraiser. 

“I thought she would enjoy getting to see how these sorts of things work when it comes to securing sponsors and benefactors for funding bigger campaigns, since she’s so passionate about helping people.” He tells Neuvillette, unexpectedly sincere. 

You’re so flattered by what he’s saying, his estimation of you, that your heart gives a warm, heavy little thump inside your chest. Unfortunately he keeps talking and quickly ruins the moment. 

“And of course I was more than happy to show off my lady to a bunch of stuffy tight-collars.” 

Neuvillette’s brows slowly lift. “Oh.” 

Beyond horrified at what he’s saying, you fiercely jerk on his arm with a scathing hiss. “What is the matter with you? You’re speaking to the honorary Iudex, you baboon!” 

Politely, Neuvillette clears his throat to bring your wide eyed attention back around before he can tease you any further. “Please don’t concern yourself with it, mademoiselle. I do not mind. I am … familiar enough with the way mister Wriothesley here speaks, and I do not take offense to it.”

You sag in visible relief against your damnable beau, but before you’re able to thank him for his generosity a sudden commotion on the other side of the room has you craning your neck to find out what’s going on. What you see very nearly has your legs giving out right from under you though, and you sway unsteadily as if on the verge of fainting. “That’s … that's Lady Furina!” 

You could hardly even believe your own eyes. Was this really the type of crowd Wriothesley had access to? Oh, you were just feeling more and more like you were in over your head with this. 

“It would be my pleasure to introduce you, if you’d like.” Neuvillette says, carefully watching your reaction. “I’m sure she would like you, and you her. Lady Furina enjoys making new friends, from time to time, when she has the opportunity to do so.” 

Friends? With the Hydro Archon herself? How in the world were you possibly supposed to rationalize that in your head! 

“Don’t be nervous.” Wriothesley assures you for what feels like the hundredth time this evening, giving your achingly stiff knuckles an affectionate squeeze. “She’s a bit out there at times, but nice enough. I think she’ll like you too.” 

“O - okay …” 

And so it goes. Over the course of the evening you’re introduced to seemingly everyone of any power or influence in Fontaine; from the noble lords and ladies who were born into their roles and liked to dally with different causes to pass their time right down to the self made entrepreneurs who fancied themselves humanitarians, and Lady Furina does indeed end up liking you. She likes you well enough, in fact, to invite you to sit at her table when dinner is eventually served, and that is precisely how you find yourself seated between her and Wriothesley after a few hours of casual snacking and mingling. 

He’d been right to say she was a bit out there and you occasionally struggle to keep up with what she’s saying but you decidedly enjoyed her exuberance, as well as her magnetic charm and charisma. She was fun, and it doesn’t take long for you to wind up engrossed in conversation with her. 

“That’s very interesting, you know.” She tells you candidly, leaning close over the arm of her chair with an excitability that’s oddly infectious. “I had no idea that there was such a thing catching on in Fontaine.”

“I’m sure it’s difficult to stay on top of fads in your position, Lady Furina, so I wouldn’t be too concerned about it. You’re busy enough as it is without having to worry about keeping up with trends on top of everything else.”

She flutteringly waves that away. “Yes, but it is also my job to stay at the forefront of what’s in style and in vogue at any given time, and I fear I may have let my adoring audience down in this. Unfortunately I don’t have any dogs to dress up though …” 

You steal a surreptitious glance over at Wriothesley in his nice black suit, but he’s a bit to engrossed in the conversation he’s having with the gentleman on his other side — something about boxing, given the snippets you’re able to catch — to notice and you quickly swing your eyes back around before anyone catches on. 

“Would you like to have one, Lady Furina?” 

She thinks about that for a moment. “I’m more partial to cats, I think, but … perhaps it would be fun to have one. A small dog that I can pamper and carry around in my arms.” Eagerly, she focuses back in on you. “And you, my darling peach?” 

It takes everything you have not to glance over at Wriothesley again. “I believe I prefer the big ones.”

“Oh? That seems like it would be an awful lot of work though.” 

“I wouldn’t mind it too much. It might be worth the trouble.” 

“Well,” She says with a certain note of finality. “I admit you’ve certainly piqued this one’s curiosity, and I do so enjoy your company. Shall we make a day of it then? Would you like to accompany me to these boutiques you speak of?” 

Your mouth opens to respond but nothing comes out. She wanted to spend time with you in a casual setting? As casual as it could possibly be, given her celebrity status in the court, of course, but … still. You were more than just a little dumbfounded by this turn of events. 

“I'd like that very much, Lady Furina.” You finally manage to say around the rock wedged in your throat. “You would do me a great honor, and I’ve enjoyed your company as well.” 

“Oh! Yay, I’m so excited!” She surprises you by reaching across to take your hands in hers, clasping them between the two of you over the table. “I just know we’ll have a great time together, and perhaps we could even stop somewhere afterward and have some cake? Oh, it could be just like our own little tea party! You do like cake don’t you?” 

“I do.” You tell her with a smile. “And I like tea, as well. The duke here has thoroughly seen to that.” 

Noising a curious sound, Furina’s pretty mismatched eyes flit over your shoulder to regard the man sitting beside you. Still engrossed in his conversation, you hoped. 

“On the topic,” She says, dropping into a conspiratorial half-whisper. “I do find myself wondering … May I ask what your relationship is, exactly? 

On the other side of her Neuvillette’s cutlery loudly rattles against his plate. “Lady Furina!” 

Jolting in surprise, she lets you go and snaps upright to sit primly in her seat. “What! I was only asking a question!” 

“Perhaps, but even as the Archon — no, precisely because you are the Archon, you should know better than to ask something so impolite and lacking in tact.” 

Looking appropriately chastised, she crosses her arms in a sulk and Neuvillette turns his attention to you with a small, apologetic smile. How very odd … 

“My sincerest apologies, mademoiselle. Lady Furina has an unfortunate habit of forgetting herself sometimes, but I assure you she meant no harm and you are under no obligation to discuss anything you are not comfortable with. If you two are to be friends, then you’re well within your right to tell her it’s not any of her business.” 

Furina shoots him a silent, wide eyed look that seems strangely familiar to you — and then it hits you. It was like looking from the outside in on one of your exchanges with Wriothesley, and your brows take a very expeditious trip up to your hairline. 

“Please think nothing of it, monsieur Neuvillette …” 

Evidently satisfied, he returns to his plate and you just sit there in dumbfounded silence for a long, drawn out moment trying to make sense of it. Unfortunately you’re not given much of a chance, however, and you stiffen when Wriothesley’s closest hand finds your knee under the table. Trying very hard to keep your startled gaze on your own plate, you reach down off the napkin in your lap to grab his blocky knuckles in a tight, squeezing hold. It’s meant to be a warning for him to behave, for him to stop and return to his own space while there are so many people sitting around the two of you like this, but of course he doesn’t take heed. 

Giving your knee a brief squeeze back, that broad hand tauntingly drags a little higher to brush against your inner thigh and — 

“Your grace!” You squawk, a little louder than intended, and your cheeks positively burn when he turns to look at you as if only just noticing you there. 

“Oh, have you finally remembered that I accompanied you this evening? It looked like you were enjoying your conversation with Lady Furina very much, and I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

Forcing your lungs to draw a slow breath and calm yourself first, you pin him with the most pleasant smile you’re currently able to muster. “You are much too kind, your grace. Always so thoughtful and considerate of others.” Underneath the table, you make a valiant effort to pry his fingers off your leg but the damned brute won’t budge. “Of course I would never forget you. Somehow I very much doubt you would ever permit me to.” 

He smiles at you, altogether innocent and polite, but you don’t miss the sly flash of mischief in his eyes. Not by a long shot. “That’s very kind of you to say, miss. I’m sure you know I feel the same way about you too.” 

You give a little jerk and freeze when you realize you’ve walked straight into an insidiously laid trap. Right in front of all these people you’d just said - - 

“Oh, you are such a funny man, your grace!” You blurt, desperately trying to backtrack now when you could feel everyone seated at the table curiously looking over even though they try very hard to hide it. “You’re so good at telling jokes, I really don’t think I can get enough of them! You simply must tell me where you manage to come up with these things!” 

“You flatter me, miss, but I assure you I’m being quite sincere. You will forever remain at the very forefront of my mind for as long as I may be lucky enough to live.” 

You just stare at him for a drawn out beat, trying and failing to figure out what to say to that. Never mind that he was making it impossible for you to pretend like you were anything but involved with each other, was he saying what you thought he was? 

“Y - your grace,” You finally manage to choke out, though it’s barely more than a whisper. “Although I do appreciate the sentiment, is this really the appropriate time and place to be having this conversation?” 

“You’re right.” He immediately relents, further startling your already reeling mind. “I must have gotten carried away. Will you forgive me?” 

“… yes?” 

Wriothesley gives your inner thigh a playful pinch before retracting his hand back over to his side and you just sit there, staring at him like he’s sprouted two extra heads. Of course you’d known he was rascally and unapologetic to the nth degree, but you’d thought him to have more sense than that! 

When you hesitantly turn your head to glance over at Lady Furina, half expecting her to be looking at you in furious indignation, you’re more than a little surprised to find her eyes glistening in what could only be deeply moved emotion. All at once you realize that there was nothing else you could do about it after that blatant display. So much for Neuvillette’s suggestion that you tell her to mind her own business. 

It was obvious why he’d done that. To nudge you into taking a scary leap that you otherwise would have avoided at all costs but, much to your relief, you soon come to find it’s not so bad to talk about it with her. Lady Furina seems to hang off your every word while you briefly (very briefly, when you left out the more harrowing details) explain how the two of you had come to know one another, and she outright coos in soft delight when you tell her you were still early into your relationship. You’re very glad to be able to use that as a convenient excuse for your initial hesitancy to discuss it, and she doesn’t appear to mind it at all. You even notice monsieur Neuvillette listening in with a certain amount of interest but that doesn’t embarrass you half as much as you would have expected it to. 

The night drags on in this manner, primarily with Furina accosting you from Wriothesley’s side so she can lead you around the room by your entwined arms, tittering amongst yourselves like schoolgirls while she proudly shows off her new friend to everyone who will look. You find it a little odd for her to be so very pleased over something so benign, but you don’t really mind it too much. She’s very sweet to you, and even takes you around introducing you to a handful of wealthy entrepreneurs who show a great deal of interest in sponsoring your programs at the prison when Lady Furina endorses your work to them. It was an altogether lovely, even magical experience and you were so glad for it that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad at Wriothesley for that blockheaded stunt he’d pulled. 

He was certainly a massive pain in your ass, in more ways than one, but he was very kind to you. Enchanting, even. 

By the time the party starts to wind down late into the night, you’re quite glad for it when Wriothesley comes to extricate you from Furina’s clutches so you can go home and take these blasted shoes off. You’d spent perhaps a bit too much time pacing the room with her, and she makes you promise to write her soon even as she reluctantly gives you up to the duke. You’re almost to the front door with him, seriously considering asking for him to carry you and knowing he would, when monsieur Neuvillette calls out behind you for you to wait. 

Pausing together, you and Wriothesley turn at the honorary Iudex’s approach. 

“Apologies for stopping you on your way out,” He says, as polite and cordial as ever. “I thought perhaps we could chat a bit more without quite so many distractions around. I’ll be headed in the same direction as you for half of the way, if you’d be kind enough to allow me to walk with you?” 

You know by distractions he means Furina and you wonder at that, still not quite sure what to make of their relationship, but you give Wriothesley a quick nod when he glances down at you. 

“Sure thing, monsieur Neuvillette. We can always flag down a carriage after we go our separate ways.” 

“Excellent. Thank you for your generosity, mister Wriothesley.” He seems quite pleased, and you wonder at that as well as the three of you make your way out onto the boulevard. 

The two of them occupy the first few minutes with casual matters, such as recent happenings in the social justice sphere, general talk of news from around Teyvat and even a brief mention of something going on in the far distant land of Inazuma where talks of a civil war were brewing. Inevitably, though, Neuvillette’s attention finally wanders over to you, and you don’t even have the grace to act surprised when you’d been half expecting it. 

“By the way, mademoiselle,” He says rather attentively. “I meant to tell you that I think it’s a wonderful thing to see so much energy and passion for the vulnerable demographic of prisoners who are more often than not shunned by the greater part of society. It might be a bit strange for me to say so, given my role in their fates, but I believe it speaks a great deal to your character for you to have so much concern for them.” 

Wriothesley gives your hand a brief, lingering squeeze where he’s holding it between the two of you. Whether he meant it that way or not, you find yourself remembering the hard learned lesson he’d taught you about graciously accepting what you’re given, and you smile up at the Chief Justice somewhat bashfully. 

“Thank you, your honor. You flatter me.” 

He inquisitively tips his head to one side, looking at you with a certain amount of interest now. “I only speak the truth, and you are very welcome. May I ask, though, why you do it? I can only imagine there must be some reason for you to choose this cause instead of any other.” 

Your steps falter in your surprise and a dull chill rushes over you. Stamping down the urge to defensively pull away from him, you swivel your head around to look up at Wriothesley. “I … I haven’t even told you that yet, have I?” 

Something unreadable passes across his face, and he gives your hand another tight squeeze. But this time he doesn’t stop squeezing it. “It’s alright. I figured you would when you were ready. If you want to tell monsieur Neuvillette now, I won’t take any offense.” 

You still hesitate a moment, feeling more than just a little bad about not telling him sooner. But in terms of dependability, you’d come to realize that Wriothesley always meant what he said. Even if what he was saying was so indirect and confounding that you sometimes couldn’t make any sense of it, so you trusted that it really wouldn’t cause any bad blood between you two. You’d have to make sure to apologize later, though. 

Cautiously, you turn your face up to Neuvillette again. “I don’t know if this is the answer you were expecting, your honor, but … my father was an inmate at Meropide a long time ago.” 

Neuvillette doesn’t so much as blink at that information. But Wriothesley, on the other hand, gives a mild jolt that you feel run up his arm, and you gasp when he suddenly yanks you around to look at him, stopping right there in the middle of the street. 

Eyes going big, you tip your head all the way back to take in his shuttered but clearly confused expression. “What?” You yelp when he doesn’t say anything, just silently looming over you like that while monsieur Neuvillette watches on. “It was a long time ago, like I said, and I’m not mad about it anymore. You don’t have to worry about a conflict of interest on my part, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Wriothesley huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “That is hardly the most pressing concern on my mind right now.” 

“Wha - -“

“Mademoiselle,” Neuvillette ventures softly, prompting you to warily drag your attention away from Wriothesley so you can look up at him again. “Will you tell us the rest of your story? There is more, I presume.” 

“Uh,” You surreptitiously glance between the two men, not sure what to make of this unexpectedly tense atmosphere. “Sure, I guess, but I don’t really know if I want to continue if it’s going to make the both of you mad.” 

Gently tugging on your hand, Wriothesley brings you back around to him, and you think your neck is going to get a cramp if they kept this up much longer. “No one is mad at you, miss. Least of all me. I’m just surprised, is all … but I want to hear the rest as well.” 

Drawing a deep breath to steady your nerves, you let it back out in a rush. “He was arrested for bribery and sentenced to ten years in prison. I was five at the time, so I was just old enough to somewhat understand that he’d been taken away and wouldn’t be coming back for a long time. It made me mad at first because it was just me and my mother, and she struggled to take care of me by herself. We were … we were never very well off and I think that’s why he did it. To try and get a leg up so he could take care of us better. I don’t condone it,” You emphasize with a quick glance in Neuvillette’s direction. “But I can sort of understand it, you know? Anyway, as time went on, I stopped being mad about it and instead I started to look forward to him coming home when his sentence was almost up.” 

You trail off, suddenly feeling uncertain about relaying the rest, but Wriothesley reaches out to take your other hand as well, holding them both now. “I heard a ‘but’ in there. Take your time if you need to, but please continue.” 

Floundering — and very embarrassed to be doing this in front of the honorary Iudex of all people — you shyly glance down at your shoes. Oh, how you couldn’t wait to get them off. 

“W - well … there’s not really much else to say, if I’m being honest. He never came home. My father decided to stay in Meropide instead, and he died a few years later right after I turned nineteen. They said it was a fight that got out of hand. Someone had a weapon they’d made, and they stabbed him with it. The other inmate insisted it was just an accident though. Said he hadn’t meant to hurt him like that, and I believe him. Soooo … here I am now. But like I said, no hard feelings or anything. Stuff just happens sometimes.” 

Wriothesley starts to say something, hesitates, and then draws a quick breath but it is monsieur Neuvillette who speaks first. 

“I see. I was worried it would be something like that.” 

Blinking owlishly, you turn your head to look over at him just as the first rain droplets start to come down. They’re fat and heavy, and incredibly cold, making your skin break out in clammy goosebumps almost instantly, but you can’t quite seem to tear your eyes away from Neuvillette. His expression hasn’t exactly changed in any noticeable way but something about him just looks so very … sad it wrenches at your poor heart. 

“What do you mean, monsieur?” 

“I seem to recall, now that I think of it,” He says evenly, not at all concerned about the rain quickly soaking through his hair to make it stick to his face in a few spots. “A man by the name of Antoine. He had a young wife who took the stand during his trial. She begged for leniency for her husband, citing the daughter waiting for him at home, but I unfortunately had none to give. That was your father, wasn’t it?” 

Numbly, you nod your head. “I’m surprised you remember something from so long ago…” 

Slowly, Neuvillette draws a careful breath before continuing. “The law is quite clear, mademoiselle. Although it pained me a great deal to do it, I had to deliver a just and appropriate ruling for the crime committed. This may not mean much to you, but I am sorry for taking your father from you. As for the matter of him choosing to stay at the fortress even after his sentence was served … I apologize for that too.” 

“It’s alright. That wasn’t your fault and there wasn’t anything you could have done about it anyway. You were just doing your job, monsieur Neuvillette. I don’t blame you for that.” You try to offer him a reassuring smile, but that shroud of sadness around him does not dissipate. In fact, it actually seems to become more pronounced. 

“Thank you for your kindness, mademoiselle.” He says over the rain as it picks up and really starts to hammer down on the three of you. “I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I will cherish it always. Regrettably I have just recalled that there is something I’ve forgotten to take care of for Lady Furina, so I am afraid I must take my leave and return to her now. I do hope you both have a pleasant evening though.” 

“O - okay …” You murmur, wondering if you’ve done something wrong as you watch him turn and walk away to leave you and Wriothesley standing there in the sudden downpour. 

Hesitantly, you tip your head back to share a long look with him. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Gods, I’m drenched right through!” You hiss, ripping off your soaked, elbow length gloves so you can viscously slap them down on the table with a loud wet plap! You felt like a drowned rat and you probably look it too as you turn to face Wriothesley where he’s peeling off his coat in the doorway. “Was it even supposed to rain tonight?” 

“You know how unpredictable the weather can be here,” He murmurs, hanging up his dripping jacket on the metal rack in the corner before moving across the room to close the distance. Your heart gives a startled jolt at his purposeful strides, but all he does is reach out to take your hips and pull you in against him, unconcerned with the soft wet squelch that sounds between the two of you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“I - I’m fine. I already told you that, didn’t I?” You squeak, carefully bringing your hands up to brace them on his front. He was acting so strange, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was upset with you or not. “What has gotten into you? I’m not used to you treating me like fragile glass that will shatter at the first upset. Really, your grace, you’re blowing this just a bit out of proportion.” 

“I think you are the very last person I ever want to hear that from.” He rumbles, dragging his hands higher to cradle around your ribs. Just holding you, letting the warmth of him bleed through your soaked clothes for a long moment until you eventually shiver at the cold. Sighing softly, he begins to rub over you as if to warm you up. “If you’re positive then I won’t press the matter any further, but I hope you know how much of a surprise you gave me back there. For a moment I thought … I actually thought I had your father imprisoned in my fortress right this very moment.” 

You smile to yourself, unable to stop it. “Would you have let him out for me?” 

He snorts a quiet laugh in response, putting you somewhat more at ease. “I think that would’ve been pushing it just a little bit, don’t you?” 

“Yes, your grace. Even if he was still there I wouldn’t expect any special privileges just because you and I are … well, I suppose we might as well already be married as far as everyone sitting at our table is concerned. Did you see the way they kept looking at us?” 

“I did, and I think you handled it all with grace and poise, just like I knew you would.” 

A heavy, long suffering sigh. “You are the biggest scoundrel I’ve ever known.” 

“If you keep up with that talk of marriage, I’ll soon be the only scoundrel you know.” 

Clicking your tongue, more embarrassed than annoyed, you start to pull away, but Wriothesley just gathers you more firmly against his front. With hardly any effort at all to show for it, he abruptly picks you straight up off the floor so he can make his way over to the bathroom with you, shouldering the door open even as you weakly protest to being carried around like an invalid. Soundly ignoring you, he sets you down on your feet again and then moves to find the matchsticks so he can light the candles in the room. You huff and watch him do it, trying and failing to stamp down the excitement suddenly bubbling to life low in your gut. 

Oh, this was … 

Dutifully, Wriothesley steps over to the tub once the bathroom is aglow with a soft, flickering light, and he bends to put the stopper in place. The sound of rushing water soon dominates the cramped space when he turns the faucet on and, finally, he turns to you once again. 

“We don’t want you catching cold.” He says by way of explanation at your curious look, reaching around behind you to fiddle with the zipper on your dress. 

“No, I suppose we don’t.” 

He gives you a certain look that makes your toes curl in their much too uncomfortable shoes as the dainty zipper descends but, to your surprise, he promptly starts to pull away. 

“Take your time and get comfortable, little miss. I’ll dry off in the other room and - -“ 

Cutting off when you snag his sleeve, Wriothesley tips his head down to look at where you’re holding onto him. There’s a question in his eyes when he brings his attention back up, and you forcibly swallow down your nerves before they can get the better of you. “You can stay. If you’d like.” 

A quiet moment passes over the room. He just studies you in that time, making you feel more and more jittery inside, before eventually drawing a carefully measured breath. “Would you like me to sit and watch you bathe, pretty girl?” 

“I thought perhaps you could join me.” 

You’d half expected him to be excited about that offer, but the bemused look he gives you is more teasing than happy. “You know I’ll have to get undressed for that, don’t you? Or would you have me sit in your tub with you fully clothed?” 

You almost snap at him to forget about the whole thing then, but you quickly rein your emotions back under control. His patience with you thus far has been perfectly commendable. Nothing short of astonishing, in fact, even when you’d desperately clung to what little bit of modesty you still had to your name for weeks now. It was understandable then that he wouldn’t assume you to be ready to cross so many boundaries all at once in one night. You naked, him naked … even when you’d discussed the matter of wanting to tend to him, he’d assured you that over his clothes would be fine so this was quite a big step beyond that. 

Resolutely, you square your shoulders. “I would never expect you to do something so silly and I know what it is I’m asking for, your grace.” 

The mischief fades from his face, and he looks at you quite seriously now. “You’re certain?” 

“Yes, Wriothesley, I’m not sure how many times you expect me to say it but - -“ 

He grabs your face between his hands and suddenly tugs you up into a possessive kiss, making you squawk against his mouth in your surprise. You hadn’t expected such a reaction out of him given his initial response, but it only lasts a short moment before he’s pulling back to look at your wide eyed expression. 

“If you change your mind at any point just say the word and I’ll get out immediately. I’m sure you understand this, precious girl, but I want to make sure you know that this is not your last chance to tell me ‘no’. You’ll always have that power over me no matter what we do together, and you only need to tell me once for me to listen. Are we on the same page here?” 

“Yes, your grace.” You murmur, smiling up at him now. 

He smiles too, leaning down to kiss you again before decisively setting in to work on disrobing you. It takes some shimmying to get the wet fabric of your dress peeled off over your head when the sleeves and bodice wanted to stick, but it eventually lands in the corner with a resounding wet plap! At your weak protest he assures you he’ll just buy you another, and then his hands are working on the clasps of your brassier. 

Wriothesley is surprisingly gentle with the delicate hooks, something that you hadn’t exactly expected when you’d never let him relieve you of that particular item before, but it fills you with a great deal of soft warmth for him. Reaching up, you also get to work on unbuttoning his waistcoat, and by the time you have it hanging loose around him he’s tugging the bra straps down your arms. 

You tense up slightly, hesitating for just a heartbeat before allowing him to pull it off of you. Your nipples are stiff and cold from the rain, jutting out in attention seeking points, and he softly growls at the sight of them. As he brings his hands up to palm them, you start to wonder if you’ll even make it into the tub at this rate. You already felt so hot … 

Your eyes go big in sudden horror. “The water!” 

Snapping out of his trance, Wriothesley twists around to smack the faucet off and you force your lungs to expand with the now steamy air in the resounding quiet. All you can make out is the soft flicker of the candles, and your own wild pulse pounding in your ears. 

“We almost got distracted there, didn’t we?” He says after a pause. 

“Yes, your grace. My apologies.” 

He turns back to you, tugging roughly at the tie around his neck. “What do you have to apologize for? We would have just cleaned up the mess when we were done … though I suppose the whole flat would’ve been flooded by the time I’m done with you.” 

You impotently shudder at the jolt of arousal that tears through you. This man was certainly crass. “You are truly hopeless, sir …” 

“Only where you’re involved.” Wriothesley sends you a meaningful look across the short distance, smiling when you react with fluster. He quickly yanks his tie off over his head and then shrugs out of his waistcoat, eyeing you rather covetously while he does it. “You look beautiful standing there like that, by the way. Your tits are even prettier than I imagined them to be.” 

“O - oh,” You quake from head to toe, and shyly bring your hands up to cover yourself. He’s on you in the time it takes you to blink, however, and you outright yelp when he grabs around your middle so he can haul you up off the floor again. Your head spins with the sudden rush of movement but he just neatly deposits you into the stool in the corner you used for easy access to your drying racks. You barely have enough of a chance to process what’s even happening when you suddenly find Wriothesley kneeling at your feet, and your heart jackhammers straight up into your throat. 

All he does is reach out to fiddle with the buckles on one of your shoes though, bending his head over the task, and you somehow manage to breathe a stilted sigh of relief. 

“Thank you, your grace …” You murmur softly into the stillness, watching him patiently work with the delicate straps. “You didn’t have to do that though.” 

“You’re lucky I didn’t do it sooner. I noticed the way you were walking earlier … like you were stepping down on needles, but I figured you wouldn’t appreciate me starting to disrobe you in public.” A brief, mischievous look accompanies that and you just flush even hotter. “If these hurt your feet then you should toss them. I’ll buy you new ones that are much more comfortable.” 

“You’re offering to buy me an awful lot tonight …” 

“Only because you deserve to have nice things.” He tells you, perfectly sincere in that assertion, as your shoe finally comes off. A low hiss rises in you at the immediate throb you feel, but he’s quick to smooth his big hands over your cramping foot and massage out some of the ache. It was really sweet of him, actually, and you eventually find yourself relaxing into his touch. “Does that feel better, pretty girl?” 

“Much, your grace.” 

Humming his approval, Wriothesley gently sets your foot down so he can set his sights on the other shoe. He manages to get this one off a little quicker, and you’re soon groaning into the stilted relief his rubbing hands provide to your sore toes. You almost don’t want it to end but, finally, he sets that one down too before palming at your calf so he can slide up along your stockings to the garter clasps. This he manages to unfasten with a quick, simple flick of his wrist so he can gently tug the sheer material down and get it off. 

“Have you helped many ladies in their boudoir?” 

He snorts a quick laugh as he tosses your stocking aside, immediately going back for the other. “Hardly. I know just enough to be dangerous, that’s all.” 

“Oh, I think I’d consider you quite dangerous …” 

The sapphires in his eyes flash at you, a vague smirk tugging at his roguish mouth. Hands slipping up behind your legs to catch in the bends of your knees, he easily pulls them apart into a wide spread and you jolt at suddenly having your pantied cunt right in his face. 

“Your grace!” You squeak with no shortage of horror. “T - that’s - -“ 

He doesn’t even stop long enough to hear what you’ve got to say. 

Leaning into the space between your thighs, he presses his nose right up against you to make you go ramrod stiff, and you just stare down at him in blatant disbelief with your hands half stretched out to shove at him. Rolling his eyes up to look at you, Wriothesley seems to taunt you with it while he mouths at your pussy for an extended beat until he manages to draw a low, faltering groan out of you. Swaying unsteadily, you once again find yourself thinking that you’re not even going to make it into the tub. 

“The w - water,” You finally get out with some effort this time, shaking like a leaf. “If you do that, it — it’ll get … cold.” 

He doesn’t seem like he cares very much for that, obviously much more interested in what’s between your legs. But, after a short pause, he does slowly ease back to peer up at you. “You’re not opposed to it?” 

“… I don’t think so.” 

A hungry look passes over his face at that, and you numbly watch him rock back and find his feet. Towering over you like this, he starts to unbutton his dress shirt with practiced precision, soon shrugging out of it altogether, and your eyes almost pop right out of your skull when you see his bare chest for the first time. He was … magnificent is the only word you could think to describe it. Well toned, tight pecs, bulging biceps that flex when he moves, defined abdominals that lead straight down to - - 

“Oh.” You blurt out, with feeling. 

Shuffling close, Wriothesley silently holds out a hand towards you. You’re so overwhelmed with everything that’s happened just over the last handful of minutes that you foolishly think he’s going to help you up, and you blithely slip your fingers into his. To your sputtering surprise, however, he just takes your hand and redirects it to the front of his pants, pressing your palm over the stiff length inside. 

“This is yours, pretty girl. Do you understand that?” 

He was certainly drilling that into your brain enough for you not to forget! “Y - … yes, sir.” 

“Do you want it tonight?” 

You practically collapse right then and there. “I do.” 

Groaning so softly you almost miss it, Wriothesley leaves your hand where it’s at and reaches up to yank at the buttons of his pants. You give him a shy, tentative little squeeze, and fresh heat promptly marches across your face when it twitches in response. You’re not sure what to expect, have no idea what to even think at this point, but you start to feel well and truly faint when he shoves his pants and underwear down to his thick thighs, and a heavy cock springs up in the air between you two.

Your throat abruptly feels bone dry as you take it in, processing the weighty length of it, the dusty-pink glans, the ridged vein running along the side and the meaty bounce of his hanging balls when he shifts. Even the wiry thatch of dark hair crowning the base looks strangely arousing to you in that moment, and you hotly press your thighs together at the sight of him. Yes, magnificent was a good word for him. He was exquisite. 

“It’s … not as scary as I thought it would be.” You eventually manage to get out, your tongue feeling like a lead weight in your mouth. 

Snorting, Wriothesley holds out his hand again. “Would you like to touch it, lovely girl?” 

You only feel a slight hesitancy when you reach out, letting him guide your loosely curled fingers to his cock. You’re a little surprised at how soft it feels to the touch, his skin satiny and smooth, and so sinfully caressable you find yourself closing your hand around it before you even realize you’re doing it. There’s a pulse running through him and it throbs under the gentle pressure of your fist, straining up slightly in search of more. 

Abruptly, you recall what he’d said about rubbing it, and you slowly draw your hand up the same way he’d shown you before. 

Wriothesley catches you off guard when he viscously seethes at the sensation, bringing your startled attention up to his face. But all you see staring back at you is deeply felt pleasure, his brows drawn together to knit over the ridge of his nose, and you feel a strange sense of power come over you. Was this what he felt every time he turned your body against you? 

“Shall I do it like this, sir?” 

“A menace,” He grits out, just watching you tug on his cock with a sharp, distant gleam in his eyes. “That’s what you are, you know that?” 

“You’re the one who taught me.” 

Wriothesley sends you a heated look, letting out a thin chuckle. “Don’t start getting cute now. Even though I’d hate to do it and ruin this — very enjoyable moment, I still won’t hesitate to take you over my knee. You’re rather precious with my cock in your hand like that, but even precious girls are not immune from getting their butts spanked.” 

A thrill races down your spine to settle low in your gut, making you squirm slightly in the chair. “Maybe I want his grace to spank me …?”

“When do you not, is the better question.” With a great deal of effort, he reaches down to still your hand, but you couldn’t have missed the look of regret in his face even if you’d wanted to. “That should probably be enough for now. If you keep tempting me like this, I’m not sure how much more I can take. Come. Let’s get you in the bath.” 

Carefully prying your fingers off him, Wriothesley leans down to grab under your arms and haul you back up to your feet again. You sway unsteadily even as you peer down between the two of you to look at his bobbing length but you soon have to look elsewhere when he bends to shimmy your garter belt down, and then your panties. You’re finally standing before him completely naked and you don’t feel half as self conscious about it as you’d expected to be. It was a little hard to cling to your shy uncertainty when you wanted him so bad you could have just screamed! 

Kicking off his pants and boots, he ignores your halfhearted protests as he expeditiously guides you over to the tub and climbs in first, getting situated before pulling you in with him. You make sure to step carefully, clutching at his big fingers as you gradually lower yourself to sit between his spread legs, and somehow you’re not the least bit surprised when some of the water sloshes out to smack against the title floor while the two of you get settled in against one another. 

“The landlord is going to kill me …” You murmur, more to yourself than him, but he just wraps his arms around you to gather you more firmly to himself. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll gladly pay for any renovations needed for water damage.” He says, pressing a hard kiss into your temple. 

Sighing softly, you experimentally wriggle back against the stiff cock digging into your spine, and he growls a low sound of warning against your face. Saying you hadn't expected it to come to this tonight would’ve been a massive understatement, but were you really that upset about it? You didn’t think so. You’d planned to see to his pleasure tonight, perhaps even remove that final barrier standing between him and your breasts, and now you were sitting naked with him in the bath. It was … a bit overwhelming, but in an exciting way. 

“Well,” You abruptly announce. “This certainly didn’t go to plan!” 

“I don’t mind that it didn’t.” Nuzzling against the side of your head, Wriothesley places another kiss to your cheek. “I admit, you did surprise me but I’m not complaining. You really did look lovely in your dress, by the way. I’m not just saying that for brownie points.” 

“Thank you … and you were quite dashing in your suit as well, but I think I still like the one you usually wear better.” 

“As do I. It’s much more comfortable.” 

Lifting one of his hands, he starts to scoop water up over your exposed shoulders and back, and you breathe out a content sigh as the warmth quickly bleeds into you. He’d distracted you so much that you’d almost forgotten just how cold you actually were after the rain, but that was rapidly fading into a distant memory now. Relaxing against him, you reach out to tentatively place your hands on his broad thighs under the water, and he lets you do it with an approving hum. 

It might not have been exactly what you’d prepared for going into tonight, but you were enjoying it very much. Getting to freely touch him like this, skin to skin contact while his cock occasionally twitched and he gently worked the cold water out of your hair … this was dangerously comfortable, and the almost romantic flicker of the candles on your counter weren’t helping matters either. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About making yourself the only rascal I know?” 

“That depends,” He volleys back easily enough. “Were you serious about preferring big dogs, and thinking that they might be worth the trouble?” 

You wrench around to look at him with clear shock dancing across your face, not even caring that more water spills out at the sudden movement. “You heard that?” 

The smile that creeps across his mouth just might be the most roguish one you’ve seen yet. “Of course I did. Even now you continue to underestimate me … I’m not sure if I should be offended by that or flattered that I give off the impression of someone who doesn’t hear every little thing going on around them. I told you I wasn’t going to let you out of my sight for even a moment, didn’t I?” 

“Forgive me, your grace. I wasn’t aware that you hear with your eyeballs.” 

“Ooho, and there’s that feisty attitude I love so much. Is that how we’re about to go into this, little miss?” 

You hesitate. There was that dreaded ‘L’ word again! 

Evidently seeing the uncertainty on your face, Wriothesley quickly sobers. “You don’t need to feel nervous. I’ll be gentle.” 

“It’s not that …” 

He tips his head to one side. “Then what is it? 

Breathing out a clipped sigh, you slowly lean back against his chest again and reach up to cup along his strong jaw, pulling him closer. “You’re still just so confusing …” 

Rather than pushing you any further, Wriothesley obliges and bends down to kiss you, the steady motion of his mouth on yours making quick work of distracting you from the odd things he says. Moaning softly against his lips, you arch your back to better present your tits when he reaches around to fondle them. His hands feel indescribably good on your chest without anything in the way like this, and softened nipples quickly pucker again under his palms. 

He takes his time playing with them, just like he promised he would; unhurriedly kneading the flesh and squeezing at you for a long while before eventually pinching the stiff buds between his calloused fingers when they’re straining hard and tender. That has you squirming between his legs, and you dig your nails into his thighs to ground yourself. You wanted him now. Not later. You needed everything he was willing to give you right this instant, and not a moment more! 

Unable to take it any more, you tip your head back to rest across his shoulder. You tell him what you’re thinking in a hushed whisper, how you don’t think you can wait any longer to have him, and he carefully rolls his hips to nudge his cock up against your bottom in response. 

“Are you sure, pretty girl? We don’t need to rush and do everything tonight. I can take care of you just as well with my mouth.” 

Just the thought of him taking his mouth to you has your pussy clenching eagerly, and you arch against him with a needy little moan. “Then will you do it now, your grace? I’d like to cum …”

“Of course I will.” Wriothesley gives you one last, lingering kiss that makes you whine low in your throat. He’s carefully untangling the two of you then, and you sway unsteadily when he helps you find your feet in the tub, but his hands are like iron bracers on your hips keeping you from tipping over. “Sit on the edge of the tub for me? Don’t fret, I’ve got you. Just like that. Good. Now spread your legs … a little more, sweetheart, that’s it. Stay just like that, okay? I’m not going to let you fall. Gods, just look at this sweet pussy.” 

With a low, almost bestial snarl, he swoops down to run his tongue straight up the length of your slit and you jolt like he’d electrocuted you. Eyes wide, almost unseeing, you tip your face down to watch him nuzzle into you, mouthing at pudgy cunt lips to coax them open for him. You have but a split second to wonder if you’d made a mistake, and then his tongue is dipping out to trace over soft creases and folds, feeling around for a moment as if to familiarize himself. Your face suddenly feels hot enough to cook an egg. The thought that you were letting him do something so shameful, putting his mouth on this intimate part of your body, niggles at the back of your mind for an extended beat like a hovering storm cloud.  

But then he finds your clit. 

You go ramrod stiff with a startled squeak, hips juddering entirely against your will when Wriothesley tauntingly swirls around the sensitive little pleasure button in increasingly tighter circles before at last grinding directly over top of it. It feels vaguely like your life is flashing before your very eyes but you can’t bring yourself to look away any more than you can bring yourself to close your legs and shut him out. It was a drastically different sensation from the one you derived rubbing yourself on his thighs or his hands, his tongue so soft and wet, and warm, yet completely unrelenting in the way it nudges your clit back and forth. Up and down, side to side, lapping at you with a hunger that almost bowls you over. You promptly forget to be embarrassed about it, and shudderingly arch your back for him instead. 

Coming up off you with a low, rumbling groan some moments later, he presses a quick kiss to your throbbing cunt. “You taste so good, pretty girl. Better than any wine, that’s for sure.” He takes a moment to draw a deep breath that makes his big shoulders rise and fall, and then he slowly tilts his head up to look at you from where he’s knelt inside the tub. “How’s that feel, sweetness? You like my mouth on your pussy?” 

You jerk your head in a frantic nod, clutching the sides of the porcelain in a death grip. “Y - yes, sir! I want … I want more, please!” 

He groans when you tip your pelvis towards him, plaintively offering your cunt to him, and he responds with a toe curling squeeze around your hips. “You are going to be the ruin of me, and I don’t even care.” Lowering his face again, Wriothesley shoves his mouth against you and you choke at the sensation of his tongue slipping out to once more lash at your clit. 

Swaying dizzily, you nudge yourself further down to stiltedly rock on his face, and he lets you do it with an approving groan. You aren’t quite sure what’s come over you in that moment but between your cunt drooling an excessive amount of slick and your nipples straining up into the air, you feel truly wild. Trusting that he wouldn’t let you fall, you reach down with one hand to snag a fistful of his dark hair, which he seems to like given the way his cock jumps in his lap. You can barely see it from this angle but that bobbing motion was unmistakable, and you give your hand a little twist to tug at the roots. Hot breath puffing against your pussy, Wriothesley lets you turn his head slightly to the side where he sucks in a thick inhale. 

“Is that where you want me, sweet girl? Go on. Put my mouth right where you want it, baby, it’s all yours.” 

A wounded little noise punches out of your tight chest, and you shudder so hard you really think you might fall. His hold on you is absolute though, just as it always is, and you’re free to jerk and twist as much as you like while he voraciously eats you out. His tongue smacks into your clit from a new angle with the tilt of his head, the sharp nudge making you squeal. It was simply too much. You’d never felt anything like it in all your life, and you had no idea how to brace against it. 

“Ohh — ooooh! Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god … wah - Wriothesley! Please! I - I’m gonna’ - -“

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He rumbles, muffled in the meat of your cunt. “Soak my face, pretty girl. Let me taste you.” 

Pussy clenching tight enough to hurt, you let out a thin, high pitched keen as your thighs begin to quake around his head. Slurping loudly, he repositions himself towards the center and gives his head a shake that seems to make every single nerve ending in your cunt light up like a firework. A warning tremor works through you as you heave, and he does it again. You just start to feel yourself tip over when he flattens his tongue to your clit and grinds mean little circles into it, and you surely would have jolted right up in the air if he hadn’t been holding you so tight. Instead, all you do is pitifully jerk against him, and the pressure suddenly gives way to a powerful orgasm that brings the sting of tears to your eyes.

Wailing in overwhelmed distress, you shake through your release while he continues to eat you out until it quickly stretches well past the point of pleasure straight into discomfort. You were too sensitive post-release. Too overwrought and tender when your pussy was still fluttering wildly around nothing, and you desperately push at him. At first you don’t think he’s going to stop, that he’s just going to keep at it incessantly, but then he finally slows the ministrations of his mouth to a standstill. Wriothesley doesn’t immediately remove his face from between your legs though, and you just seethe as the last of the spasms slowly ebb and fade to leave you twitching in the aftermath. 

Only then does he ease back, and your body just seizes all over again when you see the heated glint in his blue eyes. He looks at you like a starving wolf might look at its prey, all mindless animal hunger and fast pumping endorphins. It almost leaves you speechless. 

“Y - your grace?” 

“Bath time is over.” He abruptly announces, his stern tone brokering no room for argument. 

Eyes widening slightly, you tip your head back when he carefully finds his feet without letting up his hold on your hips and you quickly realize why. Tugging you off the ledge, he picks you straight up into his arms before your feet even have a chance to get settled on the porcelain bottom, and you clutch at him fiercely when he steps out of the tub. He doesn’t even bother with a towel and instead just brushes straight out into the main room. 

You almost lose your nerve but somehow manage to find your voice when he’s almost made it to the loveseat along the far wall. “It’s okay, Wriothesley. You can take me into the bedroom.” 

He immediately stops at your breathless little squeak, and tips his face down to look at you. “You’re sure? I can have you sit on my face just as well out here, pretty girl.” 

“Wha — no, no, no! It’s your turn next! You said you would teach me how to tend to you …” 

A muscle in his jaw visibly ticks as he draws a painfully slow breath that makes his chest press up into you. “There are a great many things I’d like to teach you, little miss. I’m not even sure where to start … how would you like to tend to me? Perhaps we should begin there.” 

You ponder that for a moment, not really even sure what your options were other than the obvious. “I suppose I don’t exactly know … can I put my mouth on you too?” 

“Oh, bless the seven!” Cursing under his breath, Wriothesley does an abrupt about face and makes a beeline straight towards your bedroom. Bouncing in his arms, you’re more than just a bit surprised at how fast he can move, and it doesn’t take long at all for you to find yourself bouncing down onto the bed with a squeak. 

Quickly, you push up onto your elbows but he’s already crawling on top of you, muscle heavy arms coming around you to brace himself against the mattress, and you go ramrod stiff when you see the weighty strain of his cock looming nearer. You hate yourself for your last minute jitters, and you hate even more that he clearly doesn’t miss the uncertainty that flashes across your face. He stills half over top of you, just looking at you for a long moment. 

“It’s alright,” He tells you at length, back to some semblance of his usual calm again. “I’m just going to kiss you first, if that is to your liking. I won’t do anything you don’t explicitly ask me to, sweetheart. You have the control here.” 

“I’m so sorry,” You mewl, feeling absolutely miserable. “I don’t know why I’m like this!” 

Shushing you softly, Wriothesley reaches up to pull your hands away when you try to cover your face and hide from him. “Don’t apologize. Hey, just look at me for a second, okay? There … that’s my pretty girl.” He gives you a quick smile as he playfully pinches your hot cheek to make you squirm. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous about your first time. I know we’ve talked this over a lot already, but I hope you know I’m nothing if not willing to wait for you. Whenever you’re ready, it doesn’t matter how long. I’ll spend the rest of my life waiting for you if that’s what it takes so no pressure, alright?” 

You can’t quite stop your surprise from showing. “The rest of your life? Surely you don’t actually mean that … you’ll get so terribly sick of me!” 

“I do mean it. And I won’t, don’t worry about that.” Taking it slow, like he was dealing with a very skittish cat, he crawls the rest of the way up to join you, settling on his side rather than on top. You’re incredibly embarrassed to realize that the difference in his approach did make you feel worlds better, and you gladly let him pull you around to snuggle up into his broad chest. “Trust me, if that attitude of yours hasn’t scared me off by now then nothing will.” 

“… you’re terrible.” You murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his skin. 

“I think I’ve heard that once or twice before. How very curious.” 

Bending his head close, he stamps a hard kiss to your forehead, and you whimper softly even as you bring your hand up to tentatively caress over his side. “Curious indeed, your grace …” 

With a soft hum of encouragement, Wriothesley takes his time kissing over your face — your cheeks, your eyelashes, your nose — while you ever so carefully run fingers over him. His body is so thick and tightly packed with muscle that you think it probably isn’t any wonder that the thought of having him on top of you, pinning you down under all that weight, scares you as much as it does. Even now when you wanted him as badly as you do. You like the way he feels under your hand though, firm and unrelenting. Almost stiflingly warm to the touch. 

You cuddle further into that oppressive body heat, seeking out his warmth with your bare skin. His palm runs over your back and your sides while you spend a quiet moment just familiarizing yourself with his body. From his thick arm across to his broad barrel chest where you pause to play with his nipple. It’s a dusty-pink, just like the head of his cock, and just meaty enough for you to get a good hold on it. He only noises a brief sound though, evidently not half as sensitive here as yours were, and you can’t help but think that that’s a bit unfair. 

Lower, you trace over his abdominals and run your fingers over each individual divot and ridge you encounter, fascinated with the build of him. As you gradually work your way further down, he slowly nudges over onto his back to give you access to his cock whenever you're ready for it, and you greedily eye it as you inch your fingers close. The hair on his groin is coarse and thick, but it feels nice under your hand. You follow it straight to the object of your focus where it’s laying across his inner thigh, twitching every so often. 

It stirs fully at your first touch though, and your cunt clenches eagerly at the sensation of that silky skin under your palm again. Gently, you get your fingers around it and pull it upward. 

“It’s heavy.” You murmur into the stillness. 

Rumbling a low sound of agreement, Wriothesley shifts against you to look down at himself as well. “It looks rather large in your dainty little hand, doesn’t it?” 

“I think it would look large no matter what …” 

“Mmm. Flattery is just going to find you seated on my face that much quicker, pretty girl.” 

“Oh, stop.” Trying very hard not to giggle, you carefully inch your way up the length of him until you reach the glans. Swiping your finger over the slit in the middle comes back sticky, and you take a moment to just feel along the smooth skin. Enjoying it, savoring it. Committing it all to memory. “Does that feel good, your grace?” 

“It does. Just like when I rub that cute pussy for you, it feels even better when you do it a bit more firmly.” He accompanies that with another kiss to your forehead, but you don’t allow him to distract you. You were starting to have a creeping suspicion why it had gotten him so worked up when you’d asked if you could put your mouth on him. 

You enjoyed when he rubbed your pussy, just as he seemed to enjoy you rubbing his cock for him, but you also now knew how much more intense the sensation of a hot tongue could be when applied directly to your clit. So then logic should only dictate … 

Gathering your courage, you slowly untangle yourself from him and sit up. Wriothesley steadily looks up at you, clearly waiting to see what you would choose to do next, so you quickly get spun around before your nerves can falter. Kneeling next to his hip now, you take him in hand again as his rough palm slides across your lower back, just holding you, and then you lean down. 

The first kitten lick across the head coats your tongue in salt, but not unpleasantly so, and he outright seethes at the sensation. Feeling emboldened, you do it again and again, mimicking the way he’d so expertly licked you in the bathroom. Eventually, though, he gives your waist a tight squeeze, and hisses as if in frustration. 

“Put your whole mouth on it, pretty girl. Don’t question it, just listen. There you go, open wide … nnghh. That feels good. You look so lovely with my cock stuffed in your mouth …” He chuckles, thin and strained when you noise a flustered little sound around the girth spreading your lips. “Are you getting embarrassed? I’d say it’s a bit late for that … look at you, taking care of me so well. Take it a little deeper. Nnghn — yes, now move your head back and forth. Just like that. You’ve got it. Oohn ...” 

The way he quietly groans, clutching your waist with an almost unexpected fervor, further bolsters your courage. It helps to dispel some of your lingering doubts, and the pangs of deep shame you felt at doing something that seemed so inherently dirty quickly dissolves into a distant afterthought. He felt good in your mouth, all warm and fleshy, and mind numbingly stiff. Velvety smooth, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and you take a great deal of pleasure in flicking your tongue over him to familiarize yourself with it. 

Your shy, timid ministrations soon pick up over the course of the next few minutes, and Wriothesley issues a heaving grunt into the still air when you pull him in a little deeper. You can almost feel him nudging at the back of your throat now but you’re not so sure you’re ready to tempt fate like that just yet, so you keep working your lips over what you’re comfortable with while your hands explore the rest of his groin. Coarse hair tickles your knuckles when you caress along his inner thigh, marveling at the thick musculature even here as the other holds him steady at the base. 

A rumbling groan spills out of him as he brings his head back up after letting it loll back for a moment, visibly struggling with his self control now. Rather stiffly, he reaches down to crowd his hand in close to your face. “Squeeze it, sweetheart. Like this.” Those blocky fingers wrap around yours where you’re holding onto him, and then press down to make your grip tighten. 

The cock in your mouth jumps and stiffens under the pressure, somehow swelling even more in your mouth to really stuff your lips full. Whimpering low at the sensation as much as the way your pussy flutters in response, you readjust your grip on his length while he grunts and then drags his hand down a little lower. 

“You can touch here too.” He murmurs, curling his fingers around the weight of his ballsack to give it a slow, savory squeeze as well. “Just be gentle. These are sensitive.”

You wonder at that, carefully pulling off him so you can catch your breath and swivel your attention down to regard the meaty swell of flesh hanging between his legs. Taking his hand off himself, Wriothesley reaches up to tenderly cup your cheek next and you whine very softly at the potent rush of male musk that suddenly floods your nostrils. It’s not a bad smell by any stretch of the imagination but it’s noticeable, and it’s obvious, and it sparks something in your brain that makes you start to slip under alarmingly fast. Like the natural scent of his body, his genitals, was an extremely potent and effective aphrodisiac, it just seems to ratchet your own arousal up even higher to leave you feeling dizzy with it.

Shudderingly, you tip your face down and press it into the terribly soft skin, and he gives a faint jolt at the contact. You breathe him in deep, taking a moment to just kiss him there, and he quickly reaches up to close around your fist again, firmly tugging it up and down his cock now. 

“Shit! You’re such a good girl, sweetheart … you like having my cock and balls in your face like that? Huh?” 

The thin, rattling quality of his voice just rushes straight to your pussy, and you nod your head with a muffled whimper. It felt like you were suffocating in him, his taste and his smell. The body heat rolling off him in waves is almost suffocating. You were beyond intoxicated and punchdrunk on it, all of it, so lost you barely even realize you’re doing it when you start to mouth at his balls and gently suck on them. 

“Oohhn, little miss … you don’t even have any idea what you’re doing to me right now. Come here. Lay out next to me.” 

He drags the hand resting across your back further down, over the curve of your ass to hook around the pudge of your inner thigh. Gentle yet insistent, he nudges you until you have no choice but to come up off his ballsack with a haggard gasp. Panting, you tremblingly let him tug your lower half towards him until you find yourself splayed out half on top of his body, your front resting along his strong hips while one leg comes up to curl over his chest. You aren’t quite brave enough to fully straddle him just yet but he doesn’t seem to mind, rough fingers finding the seam in your body and spreading your cunt open for him. 

“God, this is the prettiest pussy. You look tight enough to pinch my cock right off.” Squeaking at that, you start to turn to fix him with an incredulous look, but you don’t quite make it that far. His hand abruptly retreats only to swat across the meat of your ass, making you jolt. “You were asking me for a spanking earlier, weren’t you? Still want it?” 

You waver on top of him, clutching his pulsing cock in a death grip. “Yes, sir, I want it …” 

“Good. Then keep sucking my cock and I’ll spank you as much as you want.” Swat! “Just watch your teeth, okay pretty girl?” 

Noising a wordless sound of understanding, you dip your face down to take him into your mouth again. The next slap across your quickly tingling ass almost has your eyes rolling back in your head as you moan around the thick length stretching your lips wide. You can tell he’s not putting much intent behind the rhythmic smacks, one cheek and then the other, back and forth to leave your bottom turning red, but even that is enough to make you lose yourself even more in the statically charged daze. 

Even knowing he’s looking directly at your body completely unheeded doesn’t do much to curb your arousal, and you seem to forget all of your timid uncertainty as you start bobbing your head in earnest. Up and down, up and down — the motion is a bit stilted in this position, bordering on awkward, but Wriothesley groans appreciatively anyway, his toes visibly flexing down by the edge of the bed. It just further spurns you on, sending you on a soaring high you hadn’t expected to feel doing this sort of thing. Eagerly, you reach down to fondle his balls with your free hand, making him subtly twitch in response. 

Swat! 

“Oohn, pretty girl … your mouth feels so good on me like that. You’re doing such a good job.” 

Swat! 

“Do you like having your butt spanked while you suck my cock?”

Groaning, you jerk your head in a flustered nod, squeaking out a faint, “Mhm!” 

“I should have known,” He laughs, strained and very close to being breathless. “You’re such a sweet little masochist, and I can tell how much you’re getting off on this. Your cute pussy looks so soft and juicy right now … just begging to get stuffed full.” 

You shudder so violently you very nearly vibrate right off him, but another slap across your ass promptly grounds you. Dazedly swaying, you work your mouth over him a little quicker. A bit more urgently. 

“That’s it, little miss. Keep sucking me off. You’re well on your way to earning a nice reward for yourself after this … nnghn — you’re so good for me. Gonna’ make me cum soon … how do you want it, sweetheart? I can cum on those lovely tits if you want, or …” A deeply ruffled sound rises in him, catching you off guard. “Or I can cum straight into that warm little mouth of yours. How would you like that, hm? Wanna’ be a good girl and swallow my load for me?”  

The tremor that tears through you has you lurching on top of him, frantically noising around him. You’re not even quite sure what it is you’re experiencing at the moment, everything so intense and strong, and overwhelming that you don’t know what to make of any of it. You can’t even think straight, but he just shifts underneath you with another low chuckle. 

“Gods, you really are perfect. I’m going to hold your head for a moment but don’t worry, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.” 

You believed him, implicitly, and all you do is softly whimper when he reaches down to palm the back of your skull. The frantic energy shooting off inside you feels like it’s reaching fever pitch as he directs your face a pinch lower, centering you over top of him, and then — his hips suddenly nudge up, pressing his cock deep before stiltedly retracting. You can’t help the soft squeal that bursts out of you, muffled around his girth, and your eyes quickly flutter closed when he does it again, settling into a stiffly restrained pace that has him gliding back and forth across your tongue. 

Wriothesley moans, very quietly, while he holds your head in place so he can fuck up into your mouth at that tortuous speed. His other hand curls over your ass and delivers a distracted smack to the swell of it before latching on in a tight grip, squeezing hard enough to leave behind bruises as he pulls you open again. You know he’s looking directly at your cunt now, staring at it while he thrusts towards the back of your throat, and you don’t even care. You’re so hot, so needy for relief from this dizzying level of arousal, that you simply take as much of him as he’s willing to give you at any one time. 

Was this — was this what it would feel like to have him moving between your legs? 

“Oohhn, I’m getting close, my lovely girl … ready for your first real taste of me? Gonna’ swallow it down, nice and good … nghnn, it’s coming, sweetheart, get ready. Right there. Yeah. That’s — shit, I’m cumming! Here it comes …”

Groaning feverishly, Wriothesley’s hips falter and quake as he jerks himself up into your mouth with fast growing urgency. The rhythm he’d settled into falters and then breaks down completely, and he just judders for a desperate heartbeat before going still with his cock stuffed back against the root of your tongue. Your eyes widen slightly when you feel him give a powerful pulse of clenching muscle, and then a hot, cloying clump of something thick shoots out of him to coat the roof of your mouth. Trembling almost violently, you noise a faint sound of surprise, not having expected such a sudden burst of potent, bitter salt on your tastebuds, but it just keeps coming. Spurt after heavy spurt floods your mouth until you have no choice but to choke it down. You’re vaguely aware of some escaping the seal of your raw lips to dribble down the side of his length, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care about that right now. 

Throat clenching tightly, you give a weak cough around him as he gradually starts to relax under you, the tension in his frame bleeding away in the time it takes you to blink. Heaving a breathy, sensitive groan, he gingerly starts to ease his cock back, and you gratefully suck in a much needed lungful of fresh air. 

“Was that … to your liking, your grace?” You finally manage to croak out with no shortage of effort some moments later. 

“I loved it, little miss. You did very well, in fact.” His voice is warm with satiated pleasure, and he slides his hand down off your head to give the back of your neck an approving squeeze. “You’ve been so sweet for me all evening. I’m very proud of you for being such a brave girl tonight.” 

A pleased tremor works through you as you carefully sit up so you can turn around, unable to keep the smile off your face now when he opens up his arms for you. You don’t even hesitate to lay out across his chest with your face pressed into the hollow of his neck, snuggling deep to get comfortable. Humming a soft sound of approval, Wriothesley tightly wraps his burly arms around you so he can half lift, half drag you further on top of him until you’re stretched out across his body. 

It felt good, laying out on top of him like this in the afterglow … 

“Thank you, sir,” You murmur into his skin, still flushed and warm with the lingering traces of his arousal. “I’m very glad that I was able to spend such a wonderful evening with you, and — I'm also happy that I could make you feel good, too.”

“I feel fantastic. Better than good, actually.” He assures you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know you’re still nervous about fully giving yourself over to me, and that’s okay. I’m perfectly satisfied just like this. We can take it as slow as you want.” 

Whimpering softly when a rush of emotion floods into your chest, you quickly bury your face a little further into his neck to hide it. Wriothesley was so sweet to you … did you really even deserve this? It was overwhelming and scary, and indescribably unexpected in the worst possible way, but … that was okay, wasn’t it? 

Evidently picking up on the tension making your slighter frame stiffen against him, he starts rubbing those big, callused hands over your back in comforting circles. “What is it, pretty girl? You don’t seem quite so happy anymore. Did I say something wrong again?” 

You give a thick laugh, struggling to keep the tears suddenly stinging your eyes at bay. “No, it’s not that …” 

“Then what’s the matter? You can tell me anything.” A soft kiss to your shoulder assures you of that, and you force yourself to draw a steadying breath. He’d taught you how to be honest, both with yourself and with him, so you don’t struggle with it nearly as much as you would have at one time. 

“You just make me feel like such a mess inside. I don’t really know what to do with myself right now but … I'm sure I am happy. I’m also a bit scared and confused though. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”

He draws an even breath that makes his chest rise and fall underneath you, lifting you slightly. “I’d wager that’s pretty normal, considering how many boundaries we’ve crossed tonight. Fear of the new and unknown isn’t so strange, but … I think I might have something in mind that just might help you relax a bit.” 

You shift against him, undeniably curious. “What is it?” 

“We can discuss that later. Tomorrow.” Sighing, Wriothesley gathers you up tighter to his chest, just holding you like that. ���Unfortunately even if I wanted to continue right now, I’m afraid it’s going to take me a while to recover from what we’ve already done. Unlike you, I can’t bounce back from everything quite as fast.” 

He accompanies this with a taunting little pinch to your waist, making you squirm and press your face tighter into his neck. 

“Besides, you’ve already had a long day, pretty girl … you should get some rest.”

“You’ll stay?” 

“I promise I’m not going anywhere.” A hard kiss pressed into the crown of your head. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Wriothesley keeps his word, and you do indeed wake up the next morning in a tangle of limbs to the steady rise and fall of his broad barrel chest under your cheek. The morning light drifting in through the sheer curtains on the window casts a glow across him, and you spend what feels like a lifetime just watching the handsome duke sleep. 

He was still strange and confusing, and undeniably frustrating at times, but … he was also sweet, and infinitely patient with you. Even for as hard and blistering the sting of his hand could be, it was also capable of the softest touch. The fingers curled possessively around your hip, loosely clutching the meat of your leg in his slumber, feels like an anchoring lifeline and you think you really might love him. 

The thought of that isn’t half as scary as you would have at one time thought it to be. Just last night you probably would have thrown up your defensive walls and gone running from him in hysterics but waking up to him in your bed like this somehow reframes things. Makes it all look so much more soft and faint around the edges like a blissful dream. It’s not frightening here, in the still morning air, and you soon realize with a resoundingly warm thrum that you would have liked to stay with him, just like this, forever. 

Unfortunately the world stops for no one, regardless of how peaceful and happy they might be, and you eventually bring yourself to carefully untangle from him so you can crawl out of bed without disturbing him. You were going to surprise him with homemade crepes for breakfast.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[h0ney-mochi]

Oh, dear Valentine of mine.

Scaramouche x reader ;; readers pronouns not mentioned

SMUT/NSFW CONTENT (sort of soft? scaramouche, top!scaramouche, bottom!reader, too long intro, it's just seggs bro)

Summary: Scara doesn't understand Valentines, but his mind is occupied with you. Coming home earlier than usual, he makes a little something for you, not knowing said dish won't be even touched for the night.

A/n: joining my favorite writer's and mutual's (@sumeruin ) collab event <3 Glad to be participating heheh, hope this is good enough to be in the event ٩(◕‿◕)۶ Go check out other ppls entries btw !!!! Happy late Valentines Day everyone <3

Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!

Scaramouche didn't care for Valentines Day. Why would couples need a day about themselves, for themselves? To show off? Get a pass to makeout wherever they wanted to for a day? That's stupid reasoning. It's annoying.

He still thinks the same after being around you. Just a little, little less.

Yet when he wakes up and heads to the kitchen, he didn't expect you to be wrapping up a medium-sized gift. You didn't notice him, making sure all looked good, taping a small note on top. You jumped in surprise when you raised your head and saw him standing there.

"Oh-! Good morning!" You speak, smile on your lips as you walk to him. He raises his eyebrows at you and you give him a kiss. You whisper a simple Valentines greeting, quickly taking the gift and handing it to him.

"You don't need to open it now," you glance away, "You can do it after work. I heard your annoyed whispers when we went in that shop that already had decorations." Looking away from you and at the box, he slowly takes it, nodding.

"Will be better after work, so I get a distraction from my stupid colleagues," Scara speaks and you smile again. You ask about breakfast, but he says he needs to leave earlier. Of course you let him go, this was normal.

You knew he'll probably late home again. Maybe later just to not experience Valentines. Part of you did hope he'd come sooner. Oh well, another day, you should head out. Running out of few ingredients.

...

All day Scaramouche was uneasy. He did catch couples here and there, making him groan at the sight. Why in public? Seriously? Are they trying to prove something?

Yet his mind wandered to you. You're doing all these efforts for him, for the two of you. Not once were you unhappy about each occasion, event, or his attitude, whatever it was. His eyes glued onto the gift you gave him.

He should be with you, not here. And so he leaves, muttering something about an 'urgency.'

When he gets home, it's quiet. Making sure the place is all to himself, he decides to recheck his cooking skills! Thinking for first few moments of what did you like, what could he make for you?

Scara was really focused on doing the finishing touches to a dish for the two of you that he didn't even hear the door opening up. Only when you walk into the kitchen with a bag in hand, your voice breaking the silence.

He immediately turns to you, wide eyes. You stare at each other for a few seconds before you start giggling. His brows furrowed in confusement. What's so funny now? Are you making fun of him?

"Share the joke, idiot," Scara groans, "I've got shit to do." "You- you have icing on your face, darling," you say and laugh, covering your mouth. He blinks, hand reaching up to find it somehow. Then he sighs in frustration, muttering a 'shut up'.

He turns back to finish up with said icing.

"I'm right! There is something!" You say, walking past him, putting your bag down on the counter. A smile stayed your lips while the man said some more curses under his breath.

"You're back early, what's up?" You break the silence again. "What, I can't come home and see my darling?" Scara immediately responds, straightening his back, done with his work. You just shook your head, emptying the bag, putting the contents where they're supposed to be.

It was silent, which had you worried a little. You walk next to him and your eyes immediately catch onto the two dishes. You can't help but let out an 'awe.'

"Made this for us- you," He corrects himself, glancing at you before going to put other stuff away. You stare for a while before finally turning towards him to respond. Before you could start your sentence with a thanks, you're met with his lips against yours.

His hands immediately pulled you closer, holding you in place. You were caught off guard, but kissed him back. After a moment Scara pulled away, staring at you.

"I don't give a fuck about the dish, or about this day, not even the fact that half of the people made out in our stupid hallways," He groans, remembering his day, "It's weird."

You blinked then smiled, "Will there be a follow up?" He slowly nods, "The only thing I give a fuck about is you and how you're always here. I'm- that's weird to say, isn't it?"

"Scara, did you even open the gift I gave you?" You ask and he shakes his head. You nod your head to the side and he takes the hint. Leaving you he goes to get said gift you gave him in the morning.

Inside there were some chocolates, a letter type note you wrote for him, and a smaller different note. He looks at you, "You know I'm not the one for sweets." "That's why I got a new tea taste for you."

It went silent.

Scara was back in front you, taking your hand and pulling you away from the kitchen. "What- did you not like the gift? Was my handwriting hard to read-?" You ask, wondering. He shakes his head, pulling you inside the bedroom.

Once the door is closed, you're pushed against it, Scaramouche breathing in your neck. It sure as hell made you shiver. "No," he speaks, "Nothing's wrong." He lifts his head to look at your confused face, "Everything is how it should be."

...

His nails left marks in your skin from how hard he was holding you. Scara's breathing in your neck, harshly thrusting inside of you while you clawed at his back. Your eyes keep squeezing shut, yet you try to keep them open, to see your lover.

When Scaramouche straightens his back a little to watch you, noises slip past his lips. You're just too gorgeous like this — fucked out expression, warm cheeks, struggling to keep eye contact, your eyes rolling back.

He continues to stare, angling his hips in a different way just to see you turn your head to the side, feel your nails dig in his skin harder. Right then and there he knows he doesn't need anything else in this life other than you.

"[Name], fuck- Look at me," his hand leaves your thigh, going to hold your chin. You focus your gaze on his, a small smile tugging on your lips. His thumb rubs your cheek and Scara leans in for a kiss. Your hands go up to his neck, one hand tangling into his hair.

When you were down on the bed and having a messy makeout, you didn't think so much would happen in a day. A Valentines Day.

There was a stutter in his thrusts, Scaramouche pulling away from your lips. You took one of your hands away and intertwined your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand, nails digging at the back of your hand. You could tell he was trying to not break on top of you. Eyes getting more hazy, voice getting higher, moans mixing with yours.

You were his gift and he was yours.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer again. There's a sharp inhale and his other hand goes to hold onto your waist, pace a little rougher. The way you clench down on his cock is bringing him more and more to the edge.

His name sounds pretty on your tongue. He needs to hear more of it.

Scara leans down to suck another dark mark on your skin. Your head is thrown back, other hand is tugging on his dark hair. You've messed it up with all your desperate tugging. The air feels thick, the sheets feel troublesome and hot.

Your moans of his name get louder and he leaves your neck to look at you. He wants to see the expression on your face when you cum on his dick. He needs to know he has made you feel so, so good. It doesn't take long, his hand is squeezing yours again.

Your body shudders, eyes almost closing, but you keep that eye contact. Scaramouche thrusts inside you few more times until his fast pace drops. Heavy, warm sighs fill the silence. You blinked up at your lover. He swallows, focusing on your eyes once more.

"Scara?" You weakly smiled, "Does.. this mean you're my Valentine for the day?" He raises an eyebrow and you couldn't help, but let out a small laugh. "Does this mean you're mine?" He answers you with a question, leaning down to your face.

You nod, putting your hands around his neck again, "Of course." Scaramouche gives you a quick peck on your lips before responding.

"Let's get you cleaned up, dear Valentine of mine."

Thank you for reading <3 Enjoy your day with a cup of tea, reader. ♡

© h0ney-mochi 2023 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[prttykittes]

:3 anon

thinking abt your partner and you having this thing called “free use friday”. Where your partner can use you however they want every friday! they can toss you around and let out all their anger on you. Ofc they’ll stop if you say the safe word! Imagine Giyu coming back from a mission absolutely pissed. So on friday, he says he’s sick so he can participate in “free use friday”. He makes sure to make it known that he’s fucking angry. He may even yell at you and tell you to “shut the fuck up” if you’re complaining and whining too much! He won’t stop till you pass out or say the safe word that’s for sure.

Hehehe ^^ wowow!!, giyu I love him. I wanted to write just a bit more about this, also I love this :3 anon

CW. Free use, rough sex, passing out, size kink, GN!reader x giyu, belly bulge

You can hear his loud stomping, why was he so mad you thought. You walk over to the door, Giyu opens it. His teeth gritting, oh no he is really mad. Seems like a mission didn't go so well but would he really be mad? You gulp as he walks up to your shared room, you blush as you realize the date. It was Friday, he could use you whatever he wanted, you blushed and gulped. You swallow and go to the kitchen, maybe he will calm down? You clean it up, cleaning up the room. While cleaning, you missed to hear footsteps behind you. "Eek!" You said in surprised, feeling his hands around your hips. You didn't expect him to hold you, he was rather shy and you would make the moves first. "I am sick" he muttered, you blushed, you think that he probably said more words but you were too busy. He bends you over, your butt sticking out. His hands were harshly gripping your ass, your eyes widen as your face turned into a darker shade. "Fuck" he says, he is completely different than before, he wasn't treating you so rough but you still like it. You can feel his clothed big dick rubbing against your ass, he pushes you down onto his dick more harder. He moves you up and down, you grit your teeth. Wanting his big dick inside of you, oh why is he teasing you! You whined, you feel him grip your hip harder, you kept on whining for his dick! It was hot but annoying at the same time, he was already piss off and you whining was getting to him! He bites his lower lip, he can still hear your whines in your ear. "Shut up!" He yells, you covered your mouth and he pulls down your lower clothing. Revealing your sweet hole to him, he can see it clenching around nothing. He growls and he pulls down his lower clothing, fishing out his big o' dick! He grabs his dick and rubs it against your hole, you whined but it's muffled due to your hand. He reaches his other to his mouth and spits on it, he rubs his hand up and down. Lubing his dick with his spit, you whined. Why can't you stop whining so much? Well you just wanted his dick so much~ "Your so fucking needy" he says, he growls before he rams inside of you, you let out a loud moan. His big dick going in and out of you, he turns you around. Facing him while he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He manages to walk over to your shared room and places you on the bed, he is on top of you. He continues to pound into you, his big dick molding your hole to his size.

You can see a bulge due to the size differences of you and him, his raven-black hair moving around while his hips slaps against your bottom. Making a clapping sound, you let out multiple moans, your head going hazy. Your completely dumb in his cock, only thoughts are in your mind are cumming and his dick. His dick hitting spots deep inside of you, your mind going blank as you cum. You don't know how many times you came, you just know that his dick is good. Your vision has black spots, well atleast it's because of his dick. You could keep on blacking out on his dick so many times! You cum one last time before your vision goes black completely. He notices and pulls out, cumming on your belly. He smiles and kisses your neck to your belly. Cleaning up the mess, he loves you so much!

[idksmtms]

Rip and Tear and Throw It All Away (District 7!Cregan Stark x Tribute!reader, Capitol Mentor!Aemond Targaryen x Tribute!reader) - Part 1

AN: I googled which is the northernmost district in Panem because Cregan will always be the wolf of the north :) 

For Context: it’s a mix of the mentorship style of TBOSAS (where the mentors are from the capitol) but it’s in modern HG era 

-decided to make it 2 parts bc I got more ideas while writing hehehe-

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: You had been in love with Cregan since you were 15. He confessed his love to you three days before his last time participating in the reaping. Now, at 18, so close to freedom from the reapings, both of you had plans. Grand plans to start a family and have a home all of your own. Too bad that won’t ever be possible. 

Word count: 5,180 

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, slight age gap (I made the reader a couple years younger than him for story purposes), p in v s*x, fingering, like a mild housewife kink?, cheating (or at least kinda), degradation/bullying/Aemond being an asshole to reader, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You woke up in Cregan’s arms the morning of your final reaping day. His arms were woven tight around you and his slow breaths fanned over your shoulder as your eyes fluttered open. The sun came softly in through the curtains, old flowery fabric your mother had stitched together from some childhood dresses and put up in your room. 

As the sun rose, so did the hope in your heart for the first time in a long time. You remembered the last time you had felt like this, the morning after Cregan had kissed you for the first time. You had felt like the world was in the palm of your hands, that all the restrictions of Panem that made life not worth living were lifted away if even just for a moment.

It had been on the brink of his eighteenth birthday, a week before his final time participating in the reapings. You had been his little shadow for years, and the thought of him leaving school and leaving you behind to go to work, the thought of his name being in the bowl so many times that it was more than likely he would be picked had had you bawling your eyes out in the little alley between your houses where you went to meet. He had wrapped you up in his arms, pressing your face to his chest as you cried and cried and cried until he was hushing you gently, telling you to quiet down because he had something very important to tell you. Your sobs had slowed down to blubbers and then to whimpers before you finally began taking hiccupping breaths and wiped at your eyes to look at him in earnest. Whenever he spoke, you listened like he was a messiah. He told you that he wanted to go into his final reaping with no regrets, that if it just so happened that he was picked then he didn’t want to leave, to die, without you knowing how he felt. You gulped, staring into his eyes and hoping beyond hope that he was saying what you had always wished to hear him say. He said he loved you, that it was ok if you didn’t feel the same, but he wanted you to know, he wanted to kiss you once, even if it would only be once. He had cupped your face, smiling at you sadly when you continued to stare at him, as if your lack of response confirmed your lack of feelings. But then you leaned forward and nuzzled his nose with your own, repeating the words ‘I love you’ until he had finally pressed his lips to your own to silence you.

You had initially planned to stay over at Cregan’s house the night before, a preemptive celebration crossed with a possible final night of love. But your parents had always been firm about the night before reaping day. They didn’t know what would happen when the tribute names were called and if it did somehow happen to be you, they wanted to know their last moments with you weren’t some passing moment over breakfast. You understood. You had seen the families of the tributes fall apart since you were old enough to be aware of the games. The mothers that no longer came out of their houses, the fathers that wasted away between their work and their suddenly empty homes. The brothers and sisters who were either too young to understand why their sibling had gone away, or old enough to feel a guilt that sent them to an early grave as well. 

So you stayed home, laughing at silly things over the dinner table, hugging your mother on the couch for hours without saying a word. Then, when both of your parents had finally gone to bed, you snuck to the door and opened it to find Cregan waiting just outside with one hand on the strap of a bag, and the other in his pocket. He looked up when you appeared in front of him, and a small smile pulled on his lips. You ushered him in quietly and led him to your room, gently shutting the plywood door behind you. He pulled you into his arms then, bending down to press his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. He placed gentle kisses against the skin of your neck and you rubbed his back, running your fingertips over the muscles he had gained from starting work. 

You remembered the day Cregan had left school and started working with the trees. He had been assigned chopping duty, as almost all others were, and you had sat in his room after school waiting for him to return. He had walked in with his axe, dropping it by the door with a heavy thud. You had startled, staring at him and the weapon. Your father had his own axe at home, so you were used to the sight, but seeing Cregan with it still felt… different. Some of the sweat had dried but he was still glistening with it and you could see little wood chips in his hair. He had stared at you, as if seeing you in his home at the end of a day’s work had somehow made the toiling well worth it. You had blushed from the tips of your toes to the top of your head and a heat had settled in your belly. You had quickly gotten up then, pressing a dainty kiss to his cheek and murmuring something about getting water from the pump for him to wash up. 

The night before you had led him to your bed, sitting him down on the edge and caressing his cheeks, his lips, his eyelids. You had helped him out of his shirt, put his boots to the side, and stood in front of him once more. 

“I want to remember you,” you whispered, staring at his face in the moonlight that filtered in through the window. “Just in case.” You pressed a light kiss to his mouth, just a little press before pulling away and watching him as he shook his head. 

“No, don’t say that, don’t even think about it. We have plans, remember?” He kept shaking his head but you nodded, cupping his cheek and smiling with wet eyes. 

“We do, really important plans,” you kissed his lips again, another gentle one that only slightly pushed against his mouth. “We’re gonna get married, and apply for the corner house, the one with vines growing all over it and the two windows that are never fully shut. We’ll have two kids, so they can keep each other company and we’ll always have laughter in the house. And every day you’ll come home, and the first thing you’ll do is kiss me,” Cregan smiled brightly and you giggled, kissing him again and again and again until he was shushing your giggles and rolling you onto the bed and under him. 

The entire night was spent whispering to each other, kissing, and making love. Cregan had wanted to wait until the night of your wedding to finally be joined together, but in this world neither of you could promise that you would reach it. You thought it was an appropriate night to finally bare yourselves to each other, to finally become one, because tomorrow held no promises. 

He had caved when you had slipped your nightgown off your shoulders and allowed it to slide down to your feet. He had been laying back on your bed, shirt off, and you could see the way his entire body responded to the sight. He had pounced on you, dragging you back to be under him and settling his weight on top of you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you clenched them tight, pushing your hips up against his to try and get some friction where you ached the most. Cregan moaned into your mouth, kissing you like he was trying to eat you, nipping at your lips as his hands roamed over your body, squeezing your flesh and rubbing your skin. 

“Cregan please, do… something,” you whined, feeling restless to the core. He gripped your breasts in his hands kissed down to them, lapping at your nipples before sucking on each one harshly. You jolted on the bed, but his weight held you down and he continued attacking your skin with his mouth until you were whining that they had become too sensitive. Even just the stray brush of his lips as he moved away from your chest was too much against your nipples. He kissed back up your neck and looked into your eyes as he gently pressed his fingers to your slick folds, slipping the tips of his index and middle finger around in your juices before gently easing one of his fingers inside you. He pushed past your entrance and slowly rubbed the pad of his finger along the gummy flesh of your walls, the squelch and texture of your insides. He pulled the finger in and out of you, listening closely to the sounds you made, the huffs of breath and the muffled moans as the pleasure ebbed and flowed with his movements. When you began rocking your hips up and down with his movements, he eased in the other finger, kissing you as you gasped sharply and gently scissoring his fingers at your entrance. 

Though he hadn’t wanted to sleep with you until marriage, he had done this to you before. He had pushed two fingers into your pussy and mouthed at it like a man parched. He had had you hump yourself against his thigh until you drenched his work pants and ride his face until he granted you permission to pull your sore cunt away from his ravenous mouth. But he had never inserted a third finger until now, shushing you and telling you that it was essential if you wanted to fit his cock inside you that night. You just moaned and listened to the squelching, his heavy breathing, the rustling of sheets. You felt each of his fingers inside you, pressing together and against your walls, rubbing your entrance and pressing against it every time they pushed back in. You felt his skin stick to yours, the sheets under you damp and clinging to your skin, his hot breaths on your shoulders and the occasional kiss or bite. Your nipples rubbed against his chest as he continued working you higher and higher, warm waves shooting from your breasts down to your core. He moved faster, you panted harder. He pressed harder, you rolled your hips faster. He pressed your clit with his thumb, rubbing it haphazardly but so perfectly that your orgasm climbed even quicker until it was rumbling through your body, shaking your belly and your legs, tingling in your core and the tips of your fingers. You kept moving your hips against Cregan’s hand and he began to slow his movements, waiting until your hips stood still to pull his fingers from you. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, just touching the tip of his nose against your own. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, running your hands up his arms and kissing his lips lightly. “Please, Cregan. Neither of us knows what will happen tomorrow. If it is nothing, then I will have still gotten to love you, to share myself with you. If my name is called, then I can leave knowing that I at least got to have this night with you, that we shared a bed together.” You kissed him as tears suddenly welled in your tired eyes. 

You didn’t want to think too long about the possibilities, and Cregan granted your wish. He kissed you, mouth open and delved his tongue inside, warm and wet. You moaned as he began spreading your legs, the sticky sound of your lips and thighs peeling apart making you shift in embarrassment. Cregan just kissed you again, pressing the head of his cock to your entrance and hushing you as you began to keen nervously. He pressed fully in, grunting and panting in your ear. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he bit at your ear, pushing his nose into your hair and rubbing his cheek against yours like a desperate wolf. “You feel-you feel so good, ungh!” He couldn’t stop himself from lightly thrusting into you, your pussy clenching onto him like a vice as you tried to get used to the feeling. 

You were stretched to the brim, your legs were shaking and your nails dug into his shoulders. He pulled back and thrust into you again, a puff of breath leaving you as your entire pelvis tingled. He did it again, nibbling at your neck. You pushed your hips up, trying to get him to move quicker. You craved the little waves of pleasure that ebbed from your core to every limb when he thrusted in and out. He began moving, smooth pushes and pulls of his hips. The pleasure began to build, heightening with every thrust until your moans had to be muffled with his hand against your mouth. He pressed his mouth to your shoulder as he began to rut into you, thrusts uneven and animalistic. 

The release was sudden, one thrust and you were gone over the edge, body spasming and cunt gushing. You clenched and unclenched onto him, digging your nails into his back and thrusting your hips up to match his rhythm. Your entire body was covered in warm, spark-like, waves undulating beneath your skin. You felt him cum inside you, felt the warm spurts touch your insides and the tremble of his body against yours. He had thrust until his hips could handle it no longer then lay on top of you, breathing heavily into your neck as you ran your fingers up and down his spine. 

Now here you were, slowly sitting up in bed, stretching your arms and legs and shivering at the unfamiliar soreness that had settled between your legs. Cregan stirred, blinking his eyes open and watching you stand up and head to the little pile of discarded clothes at the end of your bed. You slipped your bra back on, then walked to your little chest of drawers to pull out a pair of panties. He watched you slip them up your legs then find a white cotton dress that you only wore on special occasions. It had lace trimmings and a pretty rounded collar that sat perfectly on your chest. He sat up against the wall behind your bed but didn’t move his eyes from your form as you tied the ribbon around your waist. You turned to look at him and smiled, cheeks pink, not knowing how much he wished he could wake up to this sight every day for the rest of his life. 

“You’d better hurry, my parents have already gone to the square for their place at the reaping,” you teased, voice slightly husky. Cregan nodded but didn’t get up for a moment, continuing to watch you as you set your hair in the little mirror then began looking for your shoes. 

He slowly stood up, still completely naked from the night before. You blushed as you watched him. He walked over to you and cupped your face in his hands, grip firm. He tilted your chin forward and kissed you, running his thumbs along your cheekbones before pulling away. 

“I love you,” he whispered, then moved away to pull his clothes out of his bag. You stood there for a moment, staring after him, cheeks hurting from your smile. 

Cregan walked you to the town square. He held your hand the whole way, whispering reassuring words close to your head and kissing your hair every chance he got. When you reached the edge of the square, he kissed your hands, your cheeks, one last time before letting you go to stand with the other possible tributes. You watched him walk away before going to the signup and having your finger pricked. They ushered you away quickly and you found a place right in the middle beside some of the girls you knew from your year. 

The guards were quick to shove everyone to their places and the ceremony started quickly. You stared down at the floor as the video played, the words going in one ear and out the other. You had heard it so many times you could probably recite it from memory, and you had become a master at tuning it out. The capitol representative was quick to start the picking, a short and spritely woman wearing more colour than you had probably seen in your entire life. 

“Ladies first,” she joked in that shrill voice, as if this were some happy occasion. You held your breath as you listened to the tape unsticking from the paper, and heard her intake of breath before she said “Y/n L/n.” 

You didn’t really hear her though. At least you don’t think you did. She didn’t say your name, right? Surely she didn’t say your name. People began murmuring around you, those stood next to you shuffling away slightly. You looked around yourself as if in a trance, the entire world seemed so hazy, not registering until after you had moved your eyes away from whatever you had been looking at. 

“Y/n L/n?” The woman repeated, and your hands began to shake. Your eyes began to well, and you forced your feet to move to the path. You couldn’t think about it right now. You couldn’t. You had to get to the stage. That’s all. You just had to get to the stage. There was rustling and yelling behind you, a loud grunt and a scream. 

“Y/N! Y/N STOP!” You turned and saw Cregan struggling against the army of peacekeepers holding onto him. “Y/N!” He kept fighting, shoving a few off and beginning to run toward you before he was engulfed once more. They yanked his hands behind his back and pulled him back so he lost his footing and was forced to put all his weight onto the man holding his arms. He screamed and looked at you, eyes burning with rage and fear. 

You didn’t know if you should continue to the stage or go toward him. All you wanted was to be in his arms again, for him to tell you that everything was going to be alright and that this was all just a bad dream. You wanted to be back in your room and have him watch you as you dressed. When you began to move toward him, a peacekeeper stepped in front of you and grabbed your arm, turning you around and walking you to the stage. You turned to stare at Cregan as they dragged him away, as he continued to yell your name and try to tear away from them and run to you. When you saw the pain on his face, the way he mouthed your name before he was finally dragged off, you broke. Tears that had begun to well when your name was called spilled freely from your eyes. The sobs you had tried to bite down hiccuped from you, shaking your chest. You felt like your entire body was about to crumple and without the peacekeeper pulling you all the way to the stage and standing you up next to the capitol woman, you would surely have fallen where you stood and never gotten back up again. 

You didn’t register the rest of the ceremony, didn’t pay attention to whoever else was picked in the reaping, just stood on the stage and sobbed until your throat hurt and you had no tears left to cry. Just before you were led off the stage, an overarching sense of shame overwhelmed you. 

You were going to let your district down. You were going to the capitol just to fail, to die, and bring further shame to your people. For the moment you stood in front of the mic, while the peacekeepers began to open the door, you gently leaned forward and whispered “I’m sorry” as you looked out at the crowd. Everyone stared back up at you with owlish eyes and you turned away, allowing them to guide you to your final moments with your family. 

You hadn’t been able to watch your parents cry. You had spent the entire three minutes hugging them and crying into their shoulders. They had whispered encouragement to you, made you promise to try your best and told you how much they believed in you. They forced you to look into their eyes as they told you they believed you could come home, to do what you had to do just as long as you came home. You just barely had the power to nod before the peacekeeper came and pulled them away from you. 

You truly broke down when the door opened to Cregan. His grey eyes were limned with red, his entire body shaking as he reached out and pulled you into his arms. He kissed you, long and deep until you had to pull away to breathe. He pressed his forehead to yours and caressed your cheeks as you began to cry once more. 

“You can do this,” he said simply, clinging to you tightly, but you just began shaking your head. 

“No, no I can’t. Don’t lie to me. I am nothing, no one. I don’t know how to kill, I can’t do it.” You were beginning to become hysterical, sobs heaving out of you. 

“Shush,” he pressed his hand to your mouth and forced your chin up so you looked into his eyes. “You can do this, I know you can. You’ll have a mentor, you’ll have access to weapons. You can train, make sure you ask them the right questions. Whatever it takes, ok?” His grip on your head was verging on painful, but you nodded, staring into his eyes like it was the only way you would survive. 

“Whatever it takes,” you whispered, but your eyes filled with tears again and you couldn’t believe your own words. Cregan kissed you again, again and again until he heard the doors begin to open. “Here,” he slipped a piece of paper into your hands. “Give this to your mentor,” and then he was pulled out the door before you could even yell a goodbye. You began to panic, you had nothing to give him in return, and you quickly ripped a bit of lace from the hem of your dress and shoved it into his palm. 

You stared down at the paper in your hands, a sealed envelope. You didn’t know where he got access to an envelope but it looked old and was beginning to yellow. You were tempted to open it but you didn’t, just slipped it into the pocket hidden in the folds of your dress. You didn’t know what he had for your mentor, but you trusted Cregan. 

You slept the whole ride until the capitol. The representative had tried to coax you out of your room, to get you to mingle with the other tribute, but you had just shut the door in her face. The other tribute was a fourteen year old boy named Gendry. You doubted you could get along with him. Even the thought of trying before knowing he would ultimately die, if not at someone else’s hands then your own, made you feel sick and sent you rushing to clamber back into your bed and under the covers. 

When the train finally stopped in the capitol, you allowed the representative to lead you off only to find two young people standing by the entrance waiting for you. Both were tall with white hair. The girl’s were formed into neat dreadlocks, some slightly piled on her head while others fell down her back and shoulders. Her brown eyes were warm as she smiled at all of you and you felt your shoulders relax slightly. The boy had long silky hair, brushed to perfection and falling down his back almost like a sheet of water. The front was combed back and tied neatly into the flow off the back of his head and you almost gasped at the eyepatch. 

It was made of dark brown leather and wrapped around his head. It completely covered his left eye but you could see a red line of a scar leading to it before disappearing under the patch and reappearing underneath it, ending just a bit higher than the middle of his cheek. He didn’t smile, just watched you and Gendry with a sharp eye and a stoic face, posture straight and hands behind his back. 

“Hello,” the girl began warmly, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to shake. You grasped it gently, giving her a rather limp handshake before bringing your hand back to your side. “I’m Rhaena, Rhaena Targaryen, and I will be Gendry’s mentor.” You nodded, a small ‘ah’ leaving your lips. You turned to the boy just as she spoke again. “This is my cousin, Aemond Targaryen, he will be your mentor, Y/n,” she smiled but Aemond didn’t. He continued to watch you, as if studying every part of you to see what he would need to work on to get you to succeed in the games. You nodded stiffly in his direction, trying to pull a smile to your lips but failing to do so. 

Then you were all standing there in the quiet, shuffling awkwardly for a moment before Rhaena cleared her throat and gestured to the hallway behind her. 

“We’ll show you to your rooms, we’ll all be occupying the seventh floor together,” she said, and began to walk toward an elevator. 

You were a step behind everyone, and by the time you reached the elevators you realised that Aemond had fallen back to walk beside you. You could tell he was a capitol citizen just by the way he walked. His spine was straight, his hands were clasped behind his back and each step was long and carefully measured. You glanced up at him from the corner of your eye, trying to study anything past the hard and stoic expression on his face, but he turned to you as if he knew you were watching and you quickly looked away, heart in your throat. 

You all were taken up to the seventh floor and Rhaena led you into the most lavish place you had ever seen. The wallpaper was made of silk, the carpets were real animal furs of the softest kind, crystal chandeliers and a wall of windows. Tables and chairs of all shapes and sizes covered in fabrics in colours you could only have imagined. 

Rhaena showed you to your room, saying you had some time to shower and change before you would all gather for dinner before leading the rest of the group away. Aemond did not follow. He stayed standing in the doorway, watching the group walk away until they were out of sight before turning to look at you. He watched silently as you walked about the room, touching all the baubles, feeling the fabric, and just generally being amazed by the lavish setup of the capitol. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. 

“You don’t even know how to use an axe, do you?” He sighed, tilting his head as he watched you stop in the middle of the room and whirl on your heel to face him. Your cheeks turned red and you shook your head. “No,” you gulped, a shiver running down your spine at his silky voice, “you were just rich enough not to have to learn survival but too poor to have any access to weapons.” He gently ran a finger across his lower lip as he observed you, humming to himself as he continued to peel away your skin and expose your very bones to his eyes. 

“What’s the point of this?” You finally huffed, skin crawling. You turned away from, not wanting his eyes on you any longer. Or at least, not wanting to be able to see them. “You’re supposed to teach me everything I need to know in the arena.” 

“I’m supposed to make you worth watching,” he replied, stepping closer to you and smirking. “Most tributes come in with skills that will help them in the arena, whether it be careers from 1 and 2 or the intelligence and expertise from 3 and 5.” His smirk dropped as he stepped closer to you, bending his head down to stare straight into your eyes as his voice became venomous. “This year, all the tributes have some worth, even the tattered corpses that they dragged out from district 12 have meat on their bones and brute force from the mines that they can use to crush your head. Every. Tribute. Has. Worth. Except you.” 

Your eyes welled with tears as he grasped your chin in his hand. You stared into his one blue eye, trying to act unfazed but failing miserably as you began to sniffle. He stared at you with so much disdain that you began to tremble, every negative thought you had tried to banish suddenly breaking through the gaps of your mind. 

“Just for being a second son, I was given a pathetic tribute who can barely stand on her own two feet. A weakling, the runt of the litter.” He spat every word, and you flinched as he spoke, but his grip was harsh and unrelenting, surely pressing bruises into your face. “So you will heed every word I say, you will do exactly as I tell you, when I tell you, like the good pup you are,” he patted your cheek with a flat hand and you cringed away, “and maybe, just maybe, you won’t be a total disappointment before the games even begin. Are we clear?” 

You stared at the cruel set of his mouth, at the remaining eye that was cold and lifeless as a sapphire, and you nodded, a soft tilt down and up of your head. He let you go, smiled broadly, then left the room so swiftly it was as if he had never been there at all. You pressed your fingers to your tender jawline and let the tears fall from your eyes. You had never wished for Cregan’s presence more. 

As you cried alone in your bed, across the country Cregan Stark sat at a table in the darkest part of the blackmarket tavern. Pressed into the shadows, three other people leaned forward over the table, discussing the price of guns, and rebellion. In his pocket he clutched a piece of lace, wrapping and unwrapping it from around his finger. Then he leaned in and said he would do whatever it took to take down the capitol. Whatever it took.

[neteyamsoare]

Photogenic.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Neteyam Sully x Fem! Na'vi! Omatikaya! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Anonymous Request. Hi, sia I'm a moot but I'm shy hehe. 15, neteyam, fluff (first time using a camera?! but neteyam is like hah I've seen my dad use one of these before… I've got this hehehe).

༉‧₊˚. Summary. You and Neteyam stumble upon a camera and he puts it to good use.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Fluff.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Aged up! Neteyam.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 533.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Skxawng — [moron/idiot], and Sevin — [pretty].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. Hey love, no need to be shy but I get it, I’m shy as well. Thank you so much for participating. You read my mind cause I wanted someone to send this prompt and I was so happy you did. I hope I did it justice and you like it.

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist

"Humans are so weird," You say as you examine the objects that are on the shelf. You and Neteyam snuck into the lab while Norm and Max were in a meeting with Jake, well more like you snuck in and Neteyam followed you in to try to get you out. You go to touch one of the objects but Neteyam was quick to stop you by slapping your hand away.

“Don’t touch anything, skxawng!” he scolds as you rub the back of your hand glaring at him. “Loosen up, teyam, have some fun,” you send a small smirk his way. When he sees the look, his tail started swishing from side to side as his heartbeats and if you were looking at him, you would have caught him admiring you from head to toe with a big smile on his face.

Before you look over to him, he quickly looks to the side and that's when he sees it, the camera sitting on a desk and he makes his way over to it. You watch his movements and just as he picks it up, you scoff. 

“What happened to not touching anything?” you recalled what he said to you moments before as you place your hands on your hips. “Do you even know what that thing does?” you questioned still in position and he looks up and smile as he turns on the camera. 

“Hah, I’ve seen my dad use one of these before,” he gloats as he brings the camera up to his eye, once he got a good angle, he finally says, “Smile for me.” you were confused but you do as he says and he presses the button to take the picture, the camera makes a small click. He takes a few more as he instructs you to move into different poses. Neteyam was happy that he was the one to see you like this and this time you were able to see his tail wagging in excitement and a blush appears on your face as your tail start moving as well. 

“You’re so photogenic,” he says noticing your tail movement as he sets down the camera back on the desk. “What does that mean?” you walk closer to him as your eyebrow bone raises slightly. “It means that you look amazing in front of the camera, so sevin,” he says as he bruises his fingers against your cheek and you smile as you lean into his touch as the both of you look deeply into each other’s eyes. 

Moving closer and closer to each other, lips almost touching as you bring your hand to his cheek but before they can even touch, the door to the lab opens, separating the both of you as you tried to act normal. “Hey, what are you guys doing here?” Norm says as he looks at the two of you.

“Um… we were looking for Spider but decided to look in here… he’s not here so we’ll be on our way out,” he takes your hand and rushes out of the lab, and soon as you are far away, the two of you burst out laughing as Neteyam holds you close to him.

🔖 @livelaughloak, @jakesully-sbabygirl, @kenzi-woycehoski, @fanboyluvr, @onlytays, @amart-e, @vxncxntt, @blep24, @blackheart-stuff, @almondmilk8, @love-chx, @uniltsatirey, @23victoria, @saeayanaa, @aash3, @neteyamsbaby, @0littlelucy0, @itszmedawn, @strawberryclouds22, @doulcha, @lixiesbrowniess, @liluvtojineteyam, @tinkerbelle05, @olivikiya, @neteyamyawne, @ratchetprime211, @cloudyl9, @mooniequeen, @kentfisherswifee6, @eyrina-avatar, @murderbirbdany.

© neteyamsoare 2023. | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[rarepears]

Hello, where can I find an AU where Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe switch roles?

By which I mean the following:

Shen Qingqiu absolutely loathes his shidi. The Bai Zhan peak lord is no better than a mindless beast, a brute. For all that his fellow peak lord was blessed with talent in the martial arts - he was a prodigy that immediately overwhelmed his older martial siblings just a year after joining the sect to assume the position of head disciple - and dogged stubbornness that allowed him to discover endless rare treasures and even rarer beasts and plants, this shidi was an irritating, uncouth, ill mannered and even more ill tempered cultivator that always accosted Shen Jiu day in and day out for-

"Fight me!"

Shen Jiu wacked Luo Qingehe on the head. "Beast!"

Luo Qinghe stepped back a couple steps, not looking sheepish in the slightest. "Shixiong," he whined instead, looking like a bullied maiden with teary eyes and a pout. He hunched himself to not look like the broad shouldered towering menance that was Bai Zhan's War God. "Just one spar? I made you lunch too."

Shen Jiu knew better than to be tricked at such foolish deception. Not when he knew the true purpose of Luo Qinghe's goal was to...

To...

"Immoral!" A scandalized young boy jumped right in. His face was red and incensed. He pulled out a sword - a wooden sword, one that was granted to disciples too young to go to the sword peak and find their cultivation sword - and immediately lept over the guqin. "Leecherous scum!" He raised the sword high over his head to strike the Bai Zhan peak lord.

Shen Qingqiu raised his fan higher so he wouldn't have to see the despicable scene any longer. Yet again, he regretted taking on the Liu clan's scion into Qing Jing peak. This noble's son was far more suited for Bai Zhan's ways, no matter how his face and lineage indicated that he was more suited toward spiritual cultivation.

No-

No, it was more apt to say that it was Luo Qinghe's fault. The man has folded like wet paper the moment Shen Qingqiu had interrupted to say that he wanted the Liu heir for his peak.

Yes, that was accurate. Everything was the beast's fault.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

An AU where Luo Binghe is the Bai Zhan peak lord and part of the Qing generation. Liu Qingge is Shen Jiu's newest disciple. Somehow Luo Binghe's demonic seal managed to stay in tact... until Liu Qingge goes off to participate in his first Conference and Mobei Jun tears apart the Bai Zhan's seal.

Luo Binghe regularly barges into Shen Qingqiu's cottage with food - it's his (poorly thought out) attempts at wooing his shixiong. His requests for spars are so he can get his hands on Shen Qingqiu - cop a feel or two. See a mussed up disheveled Shen Qingqiu too, with red cheeks and panting mouth. Hehehe...

Everyone and their mother knows about Luo Binghe's crush on Shen Qingqiu. If only Shen Qingqiu didn't think that Luo Binghe was messing around with him.

As for Liu Qingge? His mom arranged for her son to go to Qing Jing peak as Proper Noble Children Do in hopes of Liu Qingge actually learning the gentlemenary arts instead of only fighting with swords...

No, it doesn't work.

But Liu Qingge is there to help console Shen Jiu after Luo Binghe's "death" in the conference. (So Luo Binghe did learn some politics by having a crush on Shen Qingqiu and jumped into the Endless Abyss himself...) Funnily enough, Liu Qingge, despite being a Qing Jing disciple, manages to become the new(?) Bai Zhan peak lord after Luo Binghe's "death". Blame Bai Zhan peak lord tradition of being the best fighter on the peak.

Liu Qingge still continues calling Shen Qingqiu "shizun" in peak lord meetings though.