#ikemen villains fanfic

[xxsycamore]

SINFUL DESIRES

╰┈➤ 🖤 You have a hard time relaxing on your spontaneous overnight trip with Victor, so he wastes no time showing you he has tons of fun in store for the two of you…

Victor x f!Reader; • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Overnight Trips; Crimes & Criminals; Mentions of Dungeons; Baking Together; Jealousy; Humor; Competition; Kissing; Biting; Mentions of Knife play; Kitchen Sex; Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Gentle Sex; Embarrassment; Hair-pulling; Hair Kink; Hand Kink; Finger Sucking; Table Sex; Victor briefly makes reader imagine a dangerous situation; Creampie; Post-sex cuddles; Aftercare • wordcount: 3,842 • masterlist

a/n: Here's my fic for the Ikemen Villains Gift Exchange hosted by @aquagirl1978 ! My giftee was @konekotaichou - I'll let you know I had the widest smile on my face finding out I'll be writing for you. I see your name often under my fics so that's just one way of saying thank you for the support~ Hope you enjoy! <3

"We're hoooooome!"

You should be used to the loud exclamations of your dear Victor by now, but there are still some occasions where you can't help but jump at the sheer volume of them. No, no, you have a very valid reason for your reaction right now! It's because you're still linking arms with him - you have been doing so ever since setting a foot out of the carriage - and this close up, his cheerful greetings directed at no one in particular are even louder.

But it's also because this is not your home at all. It's the vacant ex-base of some criminal group, the estate now seized by Her Majesty.

"Victor… are you sure this is a suitable destination for an overnight trip…? What if there's a dungeon right under our feet filled with—"

"Worry not, my darling! Even if there was such a thing here, right now it would be nothing more than just another empty room with no other purpose but to make things a little more thrilling while we walk above. But you haven't come here before on a mission, have you? I'll let you know - there's nothing like a dungeon in this building!"

Victor's words are very reassuring, if only there weren't another dozen adjacent possibilities to utilize a base that you want to ask about. Whatever. Even on the off-chance that someone was lurking inside the shadows of the place, Victor's noisy and nonchalant barging in has surely scared them way more than it scared you.

Your beautiful Grim Reaper makes himself busy lighting candles left and right, making the place more livable, even if just for the short duration of your trip. It all happened so spontaneously. Just earlier in the day, you mentioned how nice it would be to go somewhere for a change, just the two of you, and in the next moment Victor swept you right off your feet and declared that it's been decided. Being an Aide of the Queen definitely comes with its perks, you just weren't aware that borrowing one of the numerous properties of her Majesty was one of them. He's been very convincing at telling you not to sweat over the details and enjoy the impromptu trip, painting picture after picture with his words earlier while in the carriage, of all the nice sights to be seen around the estate… Though, that would be left for the next day. Right now it's only you and Victor and the empty halls that he's trying to fill with his exuberant presence.

"May I have your attention?"

While distracted with your own thoughts, Victor has entered another room so you hurry to follow his voice to what seems like the kitchen. As if waiting for a spotlight to land on him, Victor's smile widens upon finding your gaze on him. He opens his jacket to reveal…

"Are we going to bake?!"

At least it's not doves taking flight or anything else alive, but that doesn't make the contents of his inner pockets less bewildering as he takes the items out on the counter one by one.

"Ahahahaha! Are you surprised? I came here prepared! I've brought flour, milk, sugar, and butter! Yaay!"

"Scones?!"

"Scones!"

Of course it's scones. But what compels him to enter another's home and bake scones?

Your chemistry must be very good because the look on your face is always enough for Victor to read your mind. Sadly, you can't say the same about the numerous shades of a grin that typically occupy his features, but you're still learning.

"You see, I was thinking of allll the exciting ways to use our privacy, now that we're here. And there's always been one thing I've wanted you to indulge in without limits…"

Victor's eyes shine with a strange light, and you find yourself sinking into their alluring amethyst waters until the meaning behind his words gets all twisted and tangled in the mess of your thoughts. Heat creeps up to your cheeks.

"Like what?..."

"Like stuffing yourself full of scones, of course! As much as I loooove my dear fellow Crown members, these just disappear awfully quickly when they're around!"

Ah, true.

You fight the urge to shake your head and with that shoo away any other unwelcome thoughts like the one you just had. Victor, now stripped down to his black dress shirt, does the next step of preparing himself for the self-appointed task and gathers his long, luxurious dark hair into a ponytail. It's your cue to do some prep of your own, and by habit, you look around for an apron… But of course there'd be no extras like an apron here, the people who used to live in that place were criminals! The mental image of them using the kitchen as intended is somehow comical and it definitely distracts you from the eerie energy gathering around the place. Admittedly, Victor does a great job at it as well, you remind yourself as you sneak a peek of him with a hair ribbon in his mouth - a rare instance of him being quiet, due to the obstacle preventing him from speaking. The giggle finally falls from your lips, and you realize you're having a good time here.

"Oh? Did something funny happen?"

"No, I'm just excited to share this moment of privacy with you. Though, Victor, I can't help but worry a little… Would the others be alright without you? What if they get into a fight with each other… I'm sure William is going to miss you too, you barely warned anyone about us leaving so abruptly! And besides—"

Before the name of another Crown member could fall from your lips, a tall figure towers over you; a pair of hands grab your shoulders and turn you around with the gentleness of a courting dance step. Your rear presses into the counter, and you realize Victor has trapped you in between it and his body. The smile is still on his face, but it's not a grin - it's something lighter, a tad more modest.

"You talk about being excited to have privacy with me, but you're thinking about other men, my little robin? Tsk, tsk, tsk…"

The clicking of his tongue lacks the usual eccentricity that he dresses his manners with. It sounds more threatening than anything, even if you know better than to feel intimidated by the slight change in his tone. It's something else that catches your attention, the tang of jealousy where you least expected to find it. It truly wasn’t your intention, and you probably should find your words and speak up-

"Not that I could blame you. I think about my boys too, haha! But tonight, will you let it be just the two of us?"

His gaze softens, and you can breathe again. The lungful of air is enough to make your chest expand and touch Victor's front, and you realize how tightly he's pressing you into him with his current proximity. It doesn't last long, because Victor steps away the very next second.

"Why don't we play a little game while we're here? There's always room for more fun to be had and I just thought of the perfect thing in our current arrangement."

You remain backed against the counter, just for the sake of the support you didn’t know you needed in the first place. "What kind of game?"

"There are quite a few drawers and cabinets around here, and we have to retrieve all utensils needed for preparing our scones… We will search for each one of them on our own, but whoever finds it first wins one wish to be granted by the other. How does that sound to you?"

Now, this is unexpected. Even though your partner always has a few tricks up his sleeve to spice things up between the two of you, he's still astonishing you with his ideas. You think about it for a second. If you take his word for granted, he must be as unfamiliar with the terrain as you are, putting you on equal grounds for this little game. Besides, you might have a wish ready for him - something small and intimate and fitting for the purpose of utilizing the privacy you just talked about.

"Okay, let's do this! Bring it on! What do we need first?"

Victor finishes starting the coal oven in no time before readying himself for the search and announcing, "A bowl, of course!"

You give each other a brief competitive look before going into opposite directions of the cabinet-lined space, hands reaching out in a rush. Victor uses his height advantage to check the upper shelves first, while you aim for one that is near the sink.

Bingo.

"Here, a bowl!"

Blinking in yet-realized defeat, Victor stares at your triumphant face and then chuckles in his usual tone.

"My, aren't you quick! You better start thinking of a wish, I'm afraid we're having a limited time for goofing around!"

Oh, you're not going to waste any more of it. Or at least no more than enough for the duration of one longed-for kiss.

Victor's expression goes through another change when you pull him down by the collar, and you close your eyes to let it linger in your mind when his lips crash down into yours. You savor them slowly, risking the intended innocence for the sake of enjoying him just a little longer. Soon he's out of breath, and it comes out in the form of a moan - and instead of letting go, it makes you want to kiss him breathless for a little longer. So you do. Because he's so irresistible when he lets you take the lead, when he stays still and pretends to be caught off-guard and lets you have him. He must have held back just for that - else he'd kiss you as soon as setting foot inside the house, he can't fool you that he wasn't awaiting this moment as much as you did.

His jealousy-tinted remark earlier, and this little game… they tell you he might have waited for you to make the first step and show him how much you missed his kisses, his embrace. It doesn't tarnish your victory one bit, for it is still your victory as long as you get what you want.

Victor hisses into the kiss as you realize you got a little too lost in it and bit his lower lip. You withdraw, drawing a breath of your own that you didn’t know you needed this much, but not without placing an apologetic little peck over his lip. The distance between you grows a bit more and looking him in the eye suddenly robs you of the courage you just demonstrated. Even if his cheeks are noticeably tinted pink by the endeavour.

"Next, we'll need a knife."

Your imagination fills with corset ties cut by a sharp blade and garter belts following them, and you fail to consider the task at hand, involuntarily giving Victor an advantage. It only takes two or maybe three drawers for him to find where the cutlery is stored, and he turns back to face you with the glint of a silvery surface catching abundant candlelight.

"First."

Victor gains himself the right to a wish, and you know you'll do anything he says at that moment. He's still carrying a small smile on his face, without showing teeth, just menacing enough to pin you to the counter from a distance. He still prefers the more hands-on approach, and so he takes those few steps to where you're standing, knife still in hand.

He tosses it somewhere on the counter and it lacks the decorum otherwise accompanying his every action. Instead, the hands that crawl all over you are warm and gentle, nothing like the cold blade of a knife. They don’t cut through clothing, but rather make it fall undone in a slower, more lascavious manner.

"Let's take this off…"

To think you were worried about putting on an apron earlier… Victor leaves you down to your underwear, and the last bits of your patience have crumbled to dust by the time he noses your exposed neck. You press yourself more into him, embarrassed at the mewling sounds that fall from your parted lips every time he kisses or sucks at the sensitive skin. He always makes sure to love you throughoutly, no matter how starved he might seem - the gleam in his eyes might trick you into thinking him a beast, but his actions always prove the opposite. His hands run all over your body, grasping and caressing where you want him most, but it's only when he puts you on top of the counter that he strips you down completely in order to please you properly.

He parts your legs with his big sturdy hands, and the trademark chuckle reaches your ears again.

"Ahahaha! Aren't you a dirty girl, getting wet so easily for me? When did that happen? When you kissed me so passionately, or perhaps even earlier? Could it be as soon as we got here?"

Moving to close your legs proves to be futile as Victor's grasp on them prevents you from doing so. There's no point in hiding the obvious, so even with your head turned to the side, you give him an answer.

"I don't know what's gotten into me, I just… I need you, Victor."

"Hmmm…" Victor hums and the sound vibrates low in his throat, "I believe it was my turn to have my wish granted, no?"

You squeeze your eyes shut when his fingertips dance on your belly, making their way down lower and lower.

"And what do you- wish for?" You ask between breaths, trying not to just grab his hand and place it directly where you want it.

Victor looks at you and smiles. "Why, to make you relax of course! Now, if you'd be so kind to let me…"

Unceremoniously, Victor leans down and buries his face between your legs, sending your senses to overdrive with a single sweep of his wicked tongue right across your swollen nub. You groan out his name, but it comes out meekly, troubled by the imaginary danger of someone overhearing you. Even through the fog of immense pleasure coming from Victor's newly-set steady pace, you remind yourself that this shouldn't be the case now - but you still can't let your voice out. It doesn't take long for Victor to notice, and he interrupts his actions to look at you.

"My dear, I need you to tell me how good I'm making you feel."

His gentle voice coaxing the sounds out of you is contrasting with his actions as he shows no mercy on your hot center, making your juices seep out and coat his tongue as he drinks them down hungrily. Victor is a great lover, able to send your head in the clouds with ease, ready to pleasure you for hours on as long as you're able to take more.

You keep your hand in front of your mouth but make sure it doesn't block out the noise, your fingers grazing into the skin of your knuckle just for the sheer need of finding an anchor in this whirlwind of pleasure. You can't stop looking down at Victor, his beautiful long lashes, the slight blush on his smooth cheeks…

"V-Victor- Nhhh, Victor~!" The sound of your own voice embarrasses you as you're not used to hearing it out loud, wanton and obscene like that, and you curl the last syllable into something meeker, softer. It makes him chuckle.

"If that's too much for you, you know how to make me stop." He sing-songs, even if it does little to hide the desire rasping his voice. It awakens a new need inside you, now that you're bare and exposed and things are so unfair - from this angle you don't have a chance of spotting his own arousal and you have to know you're not alone in this uncontrollable desire, heightened by the thrill of the unknown place you found yourself at. It's this that convinces you to make him let go instead of grinding down on his tongue until you find your peak.

Bitting on your bottom lip, you reach out a hand to perform the familiar gesture as Victor laps at you again and again. Your hesitation grants you a bolt of pleasure that drives you dangerously close to the edge, and it's all you need to finally reach for his ponytail and yank him off of you.

"Ahh…" Victor moans at the sensation, knowing fully well he was the one who asked for it and still falling prey to the tantalizing act he loves so much. He straightens himself back up and his lips are glistening with your liquid arousal, so you can't help tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, caressing over the beauty mark. He takes the initiative and kisses you on the spot.

His sweet kiss serves only to distract as Victor makes a quick work of unfastening his belt and unbuttoning his pants. Warm arms wrap around your middle and in answer your snake yours around his neck, whining at the sensation of his diamond-hard cock pressing against your folds so close to where you need it. But Victor doesn't take you just yet, because his strong arms carry you to the table instead.

Your back meets the wooden surface and your legs are spread apart at the knees by a pair of large hands as Victor looks down at you, open and dripping and ready for him. His smile never leaves his face as you sense him giving himself a couple of pumps before aiming for your aching hole.

"Remember to scream my name loudly!"

Victor's sizeable hardness is gradually stuffed inside your tight hole as you find yourself doing anything to prevent his kind request.

"Ahh—"

One of his hands comes to brush yours away but instead you take a strong hold of it, almost enough to bruise him with little crescents left by your nails, in an attempt to keep it over your mouth. As Victor takes his time getting you used to his cock, you put his index finger in your mouth, looking him in the eye as you both test the limits of your patience.

"Be careful now, I don't want you choking on that when I start loving you in the earnest!"

The promise of what is to come sends a shiver down your spine as your mouth is left agape even after the loss of his finger.

"Nhhhh- Victor!" You shout his name as he suddenly picks up the speed, fucking you onto the table and holding you securely into place. You toss your head back and stare at the ceiling, unable to catch your breath as the head of his cock repeatedly prods at your deepest parts.

"My, aren't you starting to relax at long last!" Victor exclaims between heavy breaths, not being one to hide his own sounds of arousal, "Being fucked on the table where such dangerous men used to sit, plotting their next crime…"

Your eyes snap open, insides clenching tightly around Victor's cock, a mere instinct and nothing you have control over. The words sink in, even if you're mostly unable to think straight with your current circumstances. Your brain, high on pleasure hormones, gets creative against your will, until you can almost see playing cards being passed around on the table right where you lay bare; drunken shouts and crude remarks birthing shrill laughter and cigarette smoke dancing in the air to leech thickly onto the curtains.

Your body convulses, but it only serves to shake away the unpleasant visual as it all dissipates like a fog around you until only Victor remains. It makes you want to scream his name louder, to feel his presence domineering over every silly thought in your head. Perhaps it was his plan all along. It's so easy to lower your guard around Victor, around Victor's hearty laugher, around Victor's ever-smiling eyes-

"Nhnnn— Ahhh!! More, give me more!"

You lock your legs around Victor, and the hand reaching out to his shoulder quickly gets naughtier as you tug at the ribbon holding his hair together. Long strands cascade down and frame his form, the ends of it pooling just over your belly and tickling you softly in a very familiar manner - you can't help but miss the dark veil of his hair falling over you every time he's taking you from the front like that. It also makes it easier to tug down on it and make him groan.

"Ahh— You're too naughty, aren't you?"

You can't help it, feeling your climax approaching, wanting to drag Victor into that pit along with you. You chant his name as you care little about letting your voice out anymore, focusing only on the man in front of you and how badly you need to feel him erupt inside you. Your legs locked around his torso prevent him any escape that you know he won't look for anyway, because he only fucks you harder and faster, losing all demure and rhythm as he moans your name in return.

"I'm coming—"

His warning sends you over the edge as hot-white takes over your vision, nerves sparkling with pure pleasure all over as your whole body tremors in copious amounts of ecstasy upon feeling Victor join you suit, his come painting your insides spurt after spurt. He keeps fucking you through it all, half-broken I love you's whispered among other not-so-sweet things that still somehow keep his gentleman persona intact when combined with the soft caresses he places over the small of your back, your body arched and unnoticeably raised from the table to meet his thrusts. He lays you back down carefully, but your arms are still held out and inviting for another embrace, a freshly fucked-out but pouty look on your face to match.

"Hahaha. I'm not going anywhere, cute little robin!"

Still catching your breath, you press clumsy kisses all over his cheeks as he hugs you, and he does the same.

"Victor, that felt…somehow sinful."

"But so good?"

You hum out a sound of agreement, and he giggles in your neck like a naughty child. The peace doesn't last for long, because his next whisper alerts your senses anew.

"What about making something even more sinful now?"

You ask with hesitation and just a tad of curiosity in the mix.

"Like what?"

Victor grins, withdrawing so you can clearly see his closed-eye grin.

"Like adding some eeeeextra butter to those scones! It could be our dirty secret!"

Oh. Your heart should be signaled to calm down now, but the truth is, this is one thing you can't pretend to be a saint about, not when your mouth waters at his words. There's little left to do than to answer your partner in a fashion that matches his antics.

"Yaaaay!"

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[clavissionary-position]

✦✧✦✧ 𝗔 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗿𝘆

ɪ ᴋ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ ɴ ᴠ ɪ ʟ ʟ ᴀ ɪ ɴ ꜱ JUDE × READER 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞-𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬

✦✧✦✧ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 Jude, Ellis 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 fluff, crack, slice-of-life 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 2300+ 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗢 Dominika Roseclay 𝗩𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗢 Enrique Silva

ONE OF THE BIGGEST CLICHES IN THE BOOK is falling asleep out in the open—you know, a hallway, a dining room, or in this case, a drafty library inside a secluded castle—and then waking up all nice and wrapped-up in the hero's coat. Swaddled like a baby.

But Jude probably hasn't acquainted himself with those types of books, or he doesn't care for what is or isn't cliché. Or, chiefly, he knows that neither of you would consider him to be a hero, not in a million years, or in a million-million.

Truth be told, he probably doesn't care. About you, that is. After all, there's an inverse relationship between caring and carrying coin. Something that London teaches you right off the tit, even if one does pride themselves on being an optimist. So while Jude may have seen it within some realm of personal etiquette to toss his coat on you (it looks like he placed it gingerly…), as well as half-heartedly attempt to pin it around your shoulders (most likely to keep those godforsaken sleeves from dragging on the ground; why else would he drape one of them over your eyes?), you would be a fool to fish for any other meaning.

In fact, you'd do well to remember that you've known Jude and his dodgy colleagues for less than forty-eight hours. Forty of which you've spent embroiled in equally-dodgy encounters. Being alive is truly something you've been taking for granted.

But of course, you fish for that other meaning anyway, and you smile like the proper fool that you are. A pleasant warmth dawning over your mouth and cheeks until your upper teeth sit flush against your bottom lip. A delightful spot of sun that eases the stiffness from your jaw, and eases the pressure boiling to temperature in your temples (half the reason you dozed off in the first place). All very welcome side-effects after the horrendous nightmare of the past couple of days. Whether you're wrong about Jude and this one, tiny, insignificant-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things gesture, you needed this win.

Without fully understanding the implications of your decision to believe in him, you sit up in your armchair and watch Jude, who is at present perched on one of the library ladders on the landing across the atrium.

A faint glint focuses your attention on something you only vaguely registered in your waking state. It appears Jude donned a pair of reading glasses sometime during your nap. Peculiar, small, round lenses locked into a frame most noteworthy for how ordinary it is. But the overall effect of the glasses is even more striking. They sit on Jude's canted cheekbones with little fanfare and fuss, all the while annihilating the gangster from him and sanding his rough edges down into something almost innocent.

Except for that nasty glower he's hurling back your way. So pointed and menacing that you can feel it shoot up through your sinuses and all the way to the back of your skull.

Rude.

Jude shifts his weight on the ladder. "That's one hell of a stare," he grumbles to himself, just on the edge of audible from where you're seated. "Right creepy, innit."

"Not really, Mister Jazza," answers Ellis, on standby two meters to his right.

"Rhetori—" Jude turns his back to you, flounders for something, grabs a sheet of paper off a shelf, and flings it at Ellis. "It was a rhetorical question!" The paper barely gets within a meter of Ellis before beginning a lilting descent to the floor, with all three of you watching on in awkward silence, until finally Ellis crouches and delicately pinches it just before contact with the wood.

The young man uprights himself, then gently blows on the paper as if to clean off any dust it accumulated during its brief flight. After, with just one of his gangling strides, he covers the distance to his employer. But before handing the paper back, he jerks to a stop, hesitating, his mouth giving a curious spasm. The picture is clear from your vantage point. Ellis is no doubt amusing over how even whilst mounted on a ladder, Jude fails to reach his height. How one day Ellis might even discover a bald spot on Jude's head long before the man himself does. But the moment passes and Ellis fixes his mouth before dutifully presenting the paper. "You dropped this, Mister Jazza."

"I bloody well see that!" Jude snatches the paper as Ellis withdraws his hand the way one might flinch from fire. The library railing blocks most of your view of the next bit, but you can assume from the crinkling sound that Jude is smoothing over the wrinkles on the sheet (for which he is to blame) against his thigh. His hand and paper come back into view before he slaps the paper back onto the shelf. Whether he realizes or not, the adventurous little sheet slips off the edge anyway.

Watching this entire exchange you can't help the bubble of mirth building in your throat. After a second or two of trying to seal the laughter away behind silent, chest-thumping hiccups, the entire library fills with your bright cackle, during which Jude's overcoat slides from your quivering shoulders, hitting the floor in a whump of weighty fabric. Well, at least that weight is no longer turning you into a human furnace. The library draft actually feels refreshing.

But even a cheated-on wife would lose against the utter carnage of Jude's expression toward you. If his stare breaches bone, his glare outright disintegrates it. You think he might hawk a spit when he goes to say "I ought to yank your pretty little teeth out for that."

You sit forward in your seat, hands latching onto the armrests as your laughter tapers off. "An upstanding gentleman like you has only one coat now, has he?"

"He has two," answers Ellis, helpfully.

"Rhetorical. Question." Jude sighs, a line of shadow falling over his eyes as he descends the ladder. The glasses come off. Get tucked into a breast pocket. Without them, Jude's glare is truly biblical, and like casting judgement he points a finger you could swear he's been dying to point at you ever since he first laid eyes on you. "Pick that up before I get me pliers. And need I remind you that this library here's for reading? Reading, researching, studying"—he withdraws his hand and holds up a finger for each item—"or pretending to read, research or study. Now. Did you at any point hear me list 'taking a fucking nap' amongst these noble activities?"

You stare.

Jude stares.

Ellis stares.

Jude snaps his head to Ellis. "Well then, did you?"

Ellis shimmies, startled. "Uhm, did you want me to answer that one, Mister Jazza?"

"Please and thank you, Mister Twilight."

"You're welcome, but I haven't done anything yet."

Jude flares his nostrils and huffs past Ellis without another word.

You assume the conversation to be over until Jude takes the corner and suddenly begins bounding toward you. For a second the thundering clack of his shoes overtakes all other sensory input. Mid-stride, he grabs a book off a shelf to his side without looking. In fact, his eyes refuse to leave you, holding your sight with such electric intensity that you start to worry the whole coat thing might be a greater faux pas than you initially thought.

Another part of you worries about the part of you fixating on Jude's eyes. That shock of purple, like anemones, but also not unlike the glaze off a bruise. Every step he advances encroaches onto your world the hues of violence and vitality, the hues of…

Jude clicks to a stop before your chair, hair disheveled, lips drawn into a line. He stands backlit, chest out, muscled legs astride, holding himself larger-than-life in a way no ordinary man would even think to. Maybe it's borderline parody, even, but you're the one still looking at him, the one taking fervent inventory of his motley collection of scents; London in the springtime, London in the dark, London drowned in smoke, and like an eye-catching garnish, the citrusy tang of bergamot.

Look upward and you're trapped in the pistil of his gaze, where running away feels like it'd invite certain death, and where running is somehow not exactly the thing you want to do.

What changed in the last five seconds? Him? Or you?

Jude extends his hand, the open cuff on his sleeve framing his slender wrist like dove wings.

Without thinking, and with your heartbeat suddenly flooding the entire room, you lower your hand onto his surprisingly soft palm.

What is happening? You—

Jude's shapely brows suddenly look like they're about to strangle themselves. He flicks your hand away as if swatting a fly. "Me coat, damn you! Hand over me coat!"

"I got it, Mister Jazza!" Ellis darts around the atrium, slides onto the floor, skids under Jude's arm, snatches up the coat and uprights himself in the smoothest sequence of movement a set of human limbs has ever executed. But when he holds the coat out for Jude, all he's met with is a scowl that makes vengeance look like affection. Ellis tilts his head. "...?"

Jude's response isn't immediate. A troubled sheen glosses his gaze. He works his jaw, casting his eyes to you for enough of a fleeting second for you to understand that you and his hesitation are inextricably (and damnably) tied. And that's how you know his next words to Ellis are a lie. "Aren't you going to blow the dust off it like you did with the paper?"

Ellis smiles suddenly, throwing you a sidelong glance as well, one of joyful knowing. "I was going to, but I remembered the look you gave me last time, so I didn't."

That very look gets directed at Ellis anyway. Jude rips the coat from the young man's grasp. "Get the carriage ready. Let Victor know not to wait up."

"He's going to wait anyway."

"Tell him anyway." Jude surprises you by placing the book he's holding in your care. Before you can react, he turns partially away to don his coat. The motion is grand and showy, and again you're struck by that captivating impression, of this little man being much larger-than-life than he seems. The library seems too small for him, for his ambitions. The castle is a pit-stop, an outhouse, on his map to greatness. You can't take your eyes away, but you do roam them, examining the whole of Jude, just a little closer, with a little more care, and a little more curiosity. Far more than you would have before. And again, you ignore the implications.

Only now that Jude has his coat back on do you realize how diminutive and almost frail he looked without it. Not weak. Grand. But frail. And only then do the needles of guilt arrive, writhing up from your stomach and stopping up your throat. All for letting that damned coat sit on the floor for so long.

Just because Jude is a villain doesn't mean you have to be an ass.

Jude settles the errant creases over his chest. Whatever sour mood had seized him only moments earlier is nowhere to be found, and this is after you take into account that is default expression is a mild scowl.

Does Jude know how to smile sweetly? Just as you think it, his gaze intersects with yours. Again that anemone, that bruise-like hollowness. For an instant, you two stare at each other, nakedly, across a space you just happen to occupy with the trappings of reality. Something in your heart changes shape, for the second, maybe third time, in the last few minutes.

Then just as quick, his sour look descends on his brow twofold. "God, how many creepy expressions can one person have?"

You kick his shin. You don't even realize it until you've done it. You kick it again.

"Bloody—what is your problem?!"

Ellis bends down to your level. "Is your foot okay?"

"Foot?! What about my leg!?"

"I'll stop by the good doctor on my way to Victor."

Jude rubs his face and heaves a sigh worth a thousand words. "Oh, don't bother." Then a smile cracks over his features. "I'll just be adding this," he gestures to his shin while heckling with you a smug grin, "to the running tab."

You hang your head. Was it too late to stomp the hell out of that stupid coat?

Ellis pats the top of your hand. "Don't worry." He stands up and holds his hand out for you to take.

Jude swats it away. "I ain't done talking here. I gave you a job, go fucking do it."

Ellis shrugs and imparts a rueful smile to you before making his exit. Once you're alone with Jude, he nudges his chin to indicate the book he gave you.

It's a well-worn volume, leather cracked and binding frayed. The title seems familiar to you but you can't pinpoint why. When you look up at Jude for some sort of hint, he rolls his eyes and turns around with a swish of his coat. "I ain't got any use for a fucking narcoleptic. Even someone as daft as you should be able to read this." Saying nothing further, he walks out the way Ellis went.

Rude. Rude. Rude. Rude. Ru—

The answer comes to you. The book in your hand is on the same subject as the book you'd fallen asleep while reading. The book that's oddly nowhere to be found now.

You flip through the pages on a hunch. Jude was right. The words are simpler. And there's notes, tons of them, crowding the margins.

"You stupid ass," you hiss into the empty library as you throw your head back against the chair with a thunk. But your anger dissipates with your next breath, replaced by something almost serene. Something you don't want to assess the implications of. "I didn't fall asleep because the words were too hard."

Thank you for reading! I own literally 0% of the jokes in this, and my characterization is based on what I've seen others in the fandom produce.

[witheredgardenparty]

Reciprocity

Read on AO3 (AO3 Account)

(This might look familiar. Author moved blogs.)

Jude Jazza x g/n Reader

It starts with a peach. (or, the one where you try to pay back a debt.)

Warnings: the game is canonically dark romance, canon typical violence, no one gets (seriously) injured this time, liberties taken with Jude's accent, liberties taken in general since the game isn't actually localized yet, Reader is in MC's position but we're ignoring the presets, other characters are briefly mentioned/present, mild allusions to canon events, overly descriptive food as an analogy for falling in love but no one is happy about it

Work Count: 2.0k

It starts with a peach. Or, well, it starts with a snide remark about staring and manners. The embarrassment is almost enough to make a mess of things. Whatever had compelled you to invite this man, of all possible men, to lunch? Yet, no matter how cruel he tries to be, Jude still shares his dessert with you.

He offers the single slice on the tip of his own fork, presents it to your mouth. You blush, but accept it with cautious, trembling lips. The meat is balanced and floral, the skin’s fuzz only just enough to tickle. It smells of marzipan, of roses. It feels like warm feet on damp earth just after the storm. It tastes like summer.

He brings it up again. And again. And again. Something about debt and repayments. Reciprocity is the tenet he lives by. The rest are just suggestion.

...please read the rest on AO3. (Requires an Account)

[myusuchaa]

Ikemen Villains - When He is Jealous: part I

What happens when they see you with someone else?

༊·˚ WILLIAM

He won’t directly show it. In fact he may not ever openly admit he was jealous. What he will do is prove it to you through his actions - his laissez-faire approach to love takes a turn when you’re behind closed doors, at your most vulnerable. He saw another palace member flirting with you? He’ll caress your sweet spot that only he knows for a little longer next time, until it’s almost unbearable. You went out on an errand with two other Crown members? He’ll ask how it went, whether you liked it, and won’t you please tell him what his little Robin desires most from his company? He’ll give it to you. But if you were apart from him too long, the next time you meet him, he’ll command you without warning:

‘Sit. Stay. Lay down. Don’t take your eyes off me.’

Such a pretty bird.

༊·˚ LIAM

You can’t escape his puppy eye pout. Or should you say, the low purr his voice drops to when he wants to get a point across? Alone, behind the curtains after his play. He’s protective of you, other people know. He can laugh and play off a couple of teasing lines thrown at you from others really well. Yet no one knows best except you, how quickly his mood can change. And how strong his impulses can be.

"Ah.. it’s aching to be inside you." His voice drips with want.

At the end of the night, in a red room with bouquets and gifts from his fans meant to adorn his performance strewn as carelessly on the ground as your lace bows and undergarments, he’ll let his jealousy show.

༊·˚ HARRISON

You’ll definitely hear more than the usual amount of the fox’s sneaky little remarks. Not quite green with envy, but not exactly the usual green flag he always is. He might even get a little pissed off at anyone who makes persistent advances towards you. Giving them the nastiest side eye and one-liner before draping his arm around you and whisking you away.

“Harry… are you jealous?”

“..I’m naturally territorial over my things. You know, publisher’s copyright and all that.”

“So you like me that much?”

“Hah.. if I said I did, would that be the truth? Or a lie?”

༊·˚ ELBERT

The minute he senses any eyes on you, he's thinking of a way to remove them from their head. So that they would never look upon you again. So that the only person that could see your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, spread around you like a butterfly's wings, was him. He craves your entire being, your deepest part.

"From the darkest depths of your heart.. I want all of you. You are beauty, itself."

You've grown very used to the love bites he leaves you, an intangible chain of possession around your collarbone. So that no one could steal you. You are his. Forever.

༊·˚ ALFONS

Underneath the hazy gray eyes that reflect like a clouded mirror is a hidden intensity. He is all fun and games, surely, sharing a little bit shouldn't make him feel uneasy? But you are a different kind of toy. Custom made. Just going to your monthly physical with Roger, knowing you are being examined by that brute's rough hands, is enough to send him reeling. You recall him asking you:

"Did it look like I was enjoying it?.. Indulging in pleasure with you?"

Did he want you? There was no doubt about it, the way his gloved fingers felt up your thigh under the table. How badly? Let's just say, you are his only weakness.

Read Part II here

[alittlerobin]

Elbert/Kate/Alfons

tags: nsfw; threesomes, m/m/f; dubious use of Alfons's power word count: 2.3k

Elbert rarely went on long missions, unless it was with Alfons—and now Kate—at his side. This time had been an exception, needing his status, but both Al and Kate were otherwise occupied. So he’d gone without them. 

Now, he walked down the castle halls to his bedroom, his steps at an unusually hurried pace. The whole time, he’d wanted to see them, wanted to go back home to them, wanted to be with them, wanted, wanted, wanted. He was used to his greed going unfulfilled, but not when it came to them. And going from being able to have them both to not having either… it had been driving him crazy. So much so he might’ve rushed the mission, simply so he could get back to them sooner. 

Finally, he placed his hand on the doorknob to his room, only to freeze. Because he heard them both inside. 

Except… 

“Ahhh… El. Elbie, p-please…” 

“Please what? I want to hear you say it.”

“Please, El… More, nghhh, I’m so close—”

Kate was moaning his name.

Was this what it’d sounded like to Alfons, months ago, when he’d walked in and finally joined them? But even so, why was she moaning his name now and not Al’s…?

He pushed open the door, slipping inside without a word, and took in the stunning sight awaiting him. Alfons and Kate were both in his bed, beautifully nude, their clothes scattered haphazardly along the floor. Kate’s back was flush against Alfons’s chest, his lips on the crook of her neck and his arms looped loosely around her waist. One of his hands was on her thigh, spreading her legs open as she rode his hard cock, while the other worked at her clit, his gloveless fingers slick with her nectar. 

“El, ahhh… ah, you’re so good, you feel so good…” 

Kate’s eyes were closed, but she kept moaning his name as she bounced herself on Alfons’s cock, her thighs quivering and her skin tinted a lovely pink. Elbert took one step forward, then paused when Alfons’s ash-grey gaze captured his own. “Did you…”

“She missed you, Elbie,” Alfons purred. He spread the fingers that’d been playing with Kate’s clit, parting her glistening folds to give Elbert even more of a show. “And you were gone for so long. Do forgive me for indulging her a little."  

So the reason she was moaning his name was because… right now, in her mind, it was him inside her and not Alfons. It was his cock filling her up, his mouth marking her skin, his fingers bringing her close to climax. 

Kate’s dark lashes lifted, fluttering open. Her eyes were glazed over, unfocused and filled with Alfons’s illusion. She blinked, furrowing her brows as she looked at him—the real him—and then back at Alfons.

With a chuckle, Alfons swept his fingers over the nape of her neck and the confusion visibly cleared. A second later, recognition flashed across her face, only for it to be immediately replaced by a gasping pleasure when Alfons snapped his hips, driving his cock deeper inside her. 

“El—ahhh, f-fuck, nghhh, A-Alfons…”

“See?” Alfons said with a smirk, dropping his hand to Kate’s breasts. He took hold of one, massaged it and pinched her perky pink nipple, eliciting another lewd moan from her lips. "It's you she wanted, my dear Elbie. Are you going to make her wait?" 

Elbert crossed the room faster than ever before, kicking off his boots and throwing aside his sword, before sliding into bed and hooking his arms under her legs. His mouth went straight to her wet cunt, greedily devouring the sweet nectar flowing from her. 

She gasped and grabbed his hair, fingers threading through almost painfully, but he hardly noticed. He ate her out with abandon, licking between the folds spread by Alfons’s cock, and sucked on her swollen clit. Her whole body convulsed, legs clenching around his face as she mewled and tried to push herself against his tongue, her juices gushing out of her as she came. 

“El, oh god, hhgnnn…”

Her nails scratched gently at his scalp as she quivered, her soft moans alternating between both of their names. And it just made him want more.

Aflons tried to thrust up but Elbert grabbed onto his thighs, digging his nails into Alfons’s flesh. He pinned Alfons’s legs to the mattress, holding him down with Kate still impaled on his hard cock. “No. You don’t move.”

“Oh? In that kind of mood, are you? I’m thrilled.”

The tone of Alfons’s voice was teasing, testing, like it always was. But Alfons always knew exactly what he wanted and strived to give it to him. So when Elbert dropped back between Kate’s beautifully soaked thighs, his “attendant” obeyed and kept his hips still.

“Elbie, w-wait, please, I just—ahhhh!”

His gaze swept up her body, watching the heaving movement of her chest and the enraptured expression painted across her gorgeous face. Her long hair fell messily behind her shoulders; Alfons’s normally neat raven locks similarly mussed. He’d watched them indulge in one another enough times to know exactly what it would’ve looked like without him there. The sweet gasps, the wanton touches, the breathless kisses, and the beautiful blushes that colored both their cheeks when they were ready to fall apart.

He wanted that again and wanted it now, but with him in the mix. His mouth sought out the spot where they joined, where Alfons’s cock sheathed inside her, tasting them both together. Alfons twitched, his muscles straining against the temptation to move. Instead, Kate moved for them both, arching up and then bringing herself back down. She ground on him, rolling her hips to push herself onto Alfons’s shaft and Elbert’s tongue. 

More. 

I want. 

Without pulling back, he pushed two of his fingers into her alongside Alfons, and smiled when her toes curled into the sheets. He fucked his fingers into her as his tongue lavished her clit, the rest of his hand curled around the base of Alfons’s cock, stimulating them both. She came twice more on his tongue, almost shouting—and the second time, Alfons’s cum seeped out of her as she finally pulled away. 

“H-hold on, please… I need a minute.” Kate gasped as she rolled off Alfons and away from Elbert’s incessant assault, collapsing onto the bed sheets beside them. The rise and fall of her chest was rapid, muscles in her thighs still twitching as spasms continued to run through her, and her full lips remained parted to breathe out the most beautiful little exhales. 

“If I may—”

Elbert didn’t give Alfons a chance to finish his sentence. He seized Alfons’s hair, grabbing a fistful at the back of his head, and slotted their bodies together. 

Alfons’s smile flickered for only a second, before spreading wider. He hooked one of his long legs around Elbert’s waist, hitching him even closer. "Oh my, what a welcome surprise." 

"You took advantage of her."

"Please, Elbie, you know us better than that. She wanted it. Asked for it.” Alfons’s devilish smirk was far too attractive to be anything but sinful. “Begged for it."

Elbert looked over at Kate, who nodded her head in confirmation. “I missed you…” she whispered. 

He’d missed them, too. But without them there, he didn’t have the privilege of abusing Alfons’s power to make himself believe they were with him. 

If Kate went away for a while, though, could Alfons do the same for him? Offer himself up as her substitution to satisfy his master’s unending need? If he asked… well, he was certain Alfons would simply laugh a little and then grant him exactly that. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Both of you…” Elbert muttered in confession, his heart flipping in his chest when they both smiled at him in response. “Al, I want…”

“We’re here, Elbie.” Alfons looped his arms around Elbert’s neck and danced his fingertips along his nape. “Whatever you want.”

Maybe, sometime in the future, they could try it… But right now, he wanted to savor the real thing. Still gripping Alfons’s hair, he crashed their mouths together, greedily drinking in the groan that rewarded him. With his other hand, he took fingers still dripping with the mix of Alfons’s cum and Kate’s nectar and slid it between Alfons’s legs, down past his cock. 

Beside them, Kate’s breath hitched and came followed by the sound of her fumbling with the bedside drawer. A moment later, she pushed a vial of oil into Elbert’s hand. Oh, she was absolutely perfect…

Fingers made slick with oil and with traces of them, Elbert pushed them in past the tight ring of muscle and fucked Alfons open on his hand. 

It was always stunning, watching Alfons come apart. He was usually so composed, so perfectly tailored to play the part of a well-bred gentleman. So when he let that all go, when the facade fell away to expose his true self, it was beautiful. 

The flush built along his fair skin, his cock filling out yet again as Elbert continued to drive his fingers in and out of him, stretching him. 

“Are you going to tease me for long, Elbie?” Alfons’s voice was breathy, betraying his put-on words. He dropped his hands, hooking his fingers into Elbert’s belt. He gave it a playful tug, then made quick work of discarding it so he could draw Elbert’s straining length out into the open. “Or are you going to fuck me properly, like you want to?”

He did want to. His eyes strayed for a moment, looking at Kate lying beside them. Her breathing had calmed and when he reached out to her, she shifted closer. “I’m here.” She leaned against Alfons’s side, her hair splayed over their pillows. “He wants you, El. Let him have you.”

Driven by her gaze, Elbert spilled more of the oil onto himself and slowly guided himself into Alfons. Kate watched them, her eyes focused on where they joined. As Elbert started on a slow pace, thrusting gently, her fingers slid down her body and slipped between her own legs. 

“Come on, Elbie. I won’t break. Give me more than that,” Alfons encouraged, only to visibly bite back a gasp when Elbert fucked all the way into him. “Y-yes, like that…”

Kate laughed softly beside him, touching a kiss to Alfons’s shoulder before reaching over and tipping his face toward hers. The sight of them kissing was always beautiful. More so now, after a week away from them and with Kate leading. Her delicate fingers caressed Alfons’s cheek as she moved her pretty lips against his, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. Elbert could watch them kiss forever, watch how Alfons drew her lower lip into his mouth and sucked on it, biting it gently. Except… he wanted it too. 

He snapped his hips, driving himself into Alfons so hard that he separated them. And before they could come together again, he swooped down, stealing deep kisses from them both. Kate tempted Elbert’s tongue into her mouth, meeting it with her own. Then a moment later, he was moaning into Alfons’s mouth as he chased his tongue, greedy for it. 

They never stopped him, never scolded him, or tried to limit him, not in bed like this. They welcomed him between them, taking turns kissing him breathless. When he finally pulled away, he saw that their hands had drifted to one another. Kate’s fingers were around Alfons’s cock, stroking him, and his were back at her slit, fucking into her at the same pace set by Elbert’s thrusts. 

Gorgeous, stunning… beautiful. 

He still doubted himself at times, but never when it came to them. 

Kate arched her spine, biting back a moan as Alfons rubbed her clit. Her own hand faltered, but then she circled her thumb over the tip of Al’s cock and smeared the precum beading there. And Elbert felt how Alfons clenched around him in response, tight and hot and maddening.

Alfons tried to fuck into Kate’s hand, bucking up, but Elbert grabbed hold of his hips with bruising strength and held him steady. Instead, he sought out Al’s mouth again as he drove his cock deep inside him, fueled by the muted moans spilling from Alfons and the pure ecstasy of his heat constricting around him. 

It didn’t take long for them all to reach the edge. Kate’s breathy pleas mixed in with Alfons’s swear as they found theirs together. Elbert gripped Alfons’s hips as he fucked the orgasm out of him, practically purring as Al came in spurts. He pulled out of Alfons’s spasming body, palming his own cock until his cum joined Al’s in painting his stomach. 

And then, the bedroom was still and quiet for a moment, as they all caught their breath together.

All the wonders in the world and there was nothing—nothing—that he wanted more than this: the three of them, together.

Kate spoke first, drawing Elbert into her and pecking his lips with a smile. “Welcome home.” 

Beside them, Alfons chuckled and then leaned over, starting the careful work of undressing Elbert. “Yes, Elbie. Welcome home.” 

When the first sliver of his skin was unveiled, Kate’s fingers found it immediately, her touch as sweet and as gentle as ever. And right beside hers came Al’s, firmer, more demanding, guiding them back onto the tangled bed sheets. 

Welcome home, indeed. 

Trapped between the two of them, he had never felt more satisfied.  

Dividers by @natimiles

Thanks for @judejazza for the event, been devouring fanfic and wanted to spread the sandwich agenda 💕

[aquagirl1978]

To Love a Sinner - William Rex x Reader (Ikemen Villains)

A/N: Happy Birthday, William! My first entry for An Invitation to Crown, hosted by @judejazza

Pairing: William Rex x Reader

Prompt: linked fingers

Word Count: 1006

Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI; established relationship; reader is afab; piv; fingering; reader is referred to as "good girl"

A sin is nothing more than a sin.

It was very easy to love William. Yes, he was a sinner, and you accepted that, but he was so much more than just that. He was kind and compassionate to a fault, and he helped you find your true voice. With each sin he committed, you found yourself falling deeper in love with him, falling deeper into the darkness that was his world.

“What do you want for your birthday, Will?” you asked as you gazed up at a pair of adoring eyes. 

“I want what I want every day.” His eyes narrowed, and his smile widened, sending heat rushing through your body. Your cheeks already warm, you looked away; one look at his beautiful face, and you’d be lured into his wicked ways.

“Oh, please don't be shy, my dear sweet robin.” He pressed his palm gently against your cheek; your face tilted towards him as you leaned into his touch, your lips quivering as they searched for his. 

He dipped his face to yours, soft lips barely brushed against yours in what dared to be a kiss, his whispered words warm on your skin.

“Tell me what you want.”

Words escaped you as you let out a shuddering sigh. The look of pure, unbridled lust in Will’s eyes as he gazed down upon you was almost too much to bear.

“What do you desire?” he asked again. His body was gracefully poised over yours, close enough to feel his heat radiating through his clothes. His hand curled around yours, threading his fingers through yours.

“Kiss me,” you requested breathlessly, knowing this would only be the beginning of a night of sinful pleasure.

The tender expression that washed over his face told you precisely how happy he was to hear you express your wishes. He pressed his smile against yours, happily granting your desire. As your eyes drifted closed, the sweet scent of roses filled your lungs and Will deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

Your hands moved on their own accord; your fingers, finding the buttons on his shirt, began to clumsily unbutton them, one by one. Will let out a sound, deep and beautiful, once you undid enough buttons to slide his shirt down his shoulder.

Your hand, now on his bare skin, continued to push his shirt away, exposing his back. Breathing him in, savoring the sweet taste of strawberries still lingering on his tongue, you pressed your palm against his flesh, pulling him closer to you. 

Crimson nails crawled up your thigh, pushing the silky material of your skirt out of his way, his fingers pressing into your sensitive skin. A pleased grin graced his handsome face as his hand traveled up your leg until he found your most sensitive spot. You dug your nails into his back, your hands sliding across the wide expanse of fair skin, not caring if you left any marks, gasping when he slid a finger inside you.

He broke the kiss, gently pulling away from you. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his blood-red eyes mesmerizing as his thumb stroked your clit, this single touch making you forget everything but him. 

“I want you, Will.” Your voice was soft as you whispered words only for his ears. “I want all of you.”

“Then that is what you shall have.” He shifted his body, his face still close to yours, your legs spreading for him. He slid two fingers inside, slowly stretching you, enjoying the lewd sounds he elicited from your lips. 

You let out a small whimper when he removed his hand, your body immediately craving his. He quickly removed his belt and undid his pants, freeing his erection.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me,” he said as he guided his tip inside you. He covered your mouth with his, swallowing your moans as he pushed inside, slowly stretching your walls. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, his grin wicked as he held your hand in his, bracing himself as he began to rock his body against yours. A maelstrom of emotions brewed in your belly as you allowed yourself to freely indulge in this sinful pleasure. Will filled you with a pleasure so great it could only be good, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. A reminder that he liked to see your adorable face, and you liked to see his. Sliding his hand down your thigh, he guided your leg around his waist, allowing him to penetrate you deeper, your lustful moans melodious to his ear.

“Close your eyes and come for me,” he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding between your legs. Once he found your sensitive spot, his long fingers teased you, coaxing your soft, sweet sounds until you came undone in his hands. “Good girl, just like that,” he praised; you squeezed his hand as your trembling body succumbed to the pleasure he provided, his body soon joining yours in a state of absolute bliss.

You held his head close to your chest, your heart still beating wildly while night's embrace calmed you both. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” you asked quietly, your fingers combing his messy hair. He looked up at you, his crimson gaze tender as he looked at you with adoration. 

“Yes.” He flicked his eyes up to meet yours, his thumb traced light circles on the inside of your wrist, your hands still clasped together. “Maybe my best yet.”

One look at the radiant smile he flashed you, and you knew he had carved this moment on his heart.

“I love you, Will.” You squeezed his hand, not ready to let go. Not today, not any day. 

He pulled your joined hands to his lips and brushed a chaste kiss across your knuckles. “I love you, too,” he whispered back.

One day, the sinner would have to pay for his sins. But that day wasn’t today. And until that day came, you were going to love your sinner until his very last breath.

Tagging: @starlitmanor-network @redheadkittys @themiscarnival @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee

@kookie-my-little-sunshine @pathogenic @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer @nightghoul381

@judejazza @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia

@ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings

[mrssylvatica]

alfons - petplay

978 || NSFW.  alfons pet play.  fem!reader.  first and probably last nsfw piece.

◇ CW: NSFW, pet play?  that was my original intention, pwp, blowjob, some praise, alfons being alfons, etc.  forgive me i've never written smut before.  bit ooc but it doesn't really matter because it's smut

“How about a game, little one?”

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

“My, my…”

Your body is completely bare, curled up on Alfons’ lap.  His thighs are soft, almost like a pillow.  The smooth silken bedsheets are soothing against your skin, the leather collar resting against your neck.  A candle's flame dances atop the nightstand, a beacon in the darkness.

He has trained you well.  He scratches under your chin, grinning with satisfaction as you enthusiastically rub your cheek against his hand.  You can feel the coldness through the glove.  Alfons’ other hand drifts from the top of your crown to the nape of your neck, but you decline his offer with a shake of your head.

“Not today?”  You're met with a pout and a forced sigh.  If you didn't know any better, you would assume he was genuinely disappointed.  No, he’s just messing around, as always.  “Ah, very well.”

He returns to playing with your hair, humming to himself.  You start to unbutton the buttons of his dress shirt one by one.  Alfons’ chest is marred with numerous bites and hickeys from his “friends”, and unsurprisingly, his back also harbors scratches.  How you wish you made them instead.  Out of sheer curiosity, you press an ear to his chest.  His heart pumps strong, in contrast to the calm façade.

Usually he's the one teasing you until you're squirming and needy, but today it's your turn.

To start, you remove his gloves with your mouth, pressing kisses to each of his fingertips and even licking in between his fingers.  In return, Alfons scratches you behind the ears, a proud expression gracing his features.

Then you slowly, ever so gently stroke him through his pants, triumphantly locking your gaze with his.  How dare you tease him like this.  You're just so adorable, with your eyes twinkling up at him mischievously and…

He just wants to break you right now.

“How about a game, little one?”  Alfons whispers, tugging your hair up to look at him.  Him, and only him.  To sear this into your memory.  “Whoever finishes first, loses.  If I win, I punish you however I like, but if you win, I’ll do whatever you like tonight.  How about it?”  Alfons directs one of your hands to his belt, letting you undo the buckle on your own.  Ah, but you're certainly taking your time.

You drag the moment on longer, kissing a trail from his chest back down again.  Perhaps a little bite there, with a lick to soothe it…  squeezing his thighs, ghosting your fingertips over his legs…

Alfons has always been patient.  Today you were determined to steal away the last of his resolve with those feathery touches of yours.

But you free his aching cock at last, its leaking precum glistening under the candlelight.  You give his tip teasing kitty licks, making him shiver in anticipation.  One of your hands busies itself fondling his balls.  “You naughty, naughty kitten…”  You give him a coy smile in response and plant a kiss on his length, making it twitch with need.

You enjoy tormenting him, don't you?

You lick up and down his length, running your tongue over the thick veins.  Clearing your hair away from your face, Alfons grabs a handful to steady himself and watches as you slide your soft lips onto his twitching cock, groaning once his tip hits the back of your throat.  You drag your warm lips along him greedily, stopping every now and then to pay special attention to his tip.

He looks so beautiful like this.  It's always fascinating to watch Alfons’ calm demeanor melt away, his blissful expressions irresistible as he struggles to contain himself.  His glistening skin dampens with sweat, his raven hair askew.  With his face colored with a slight blush and his lips parted, struggling to draw in air…  one could even call it endearing.  It almost makes you forget how much of a menace he actually is.

“You're doing so well.”  The sudden praise makes your heart race in your chest, your face flushing pink.  The motivation combined with the lewd sounds make your core slick and wet.  You bob your head rougher, a tear dripping from the corner of your eye.  Your teeth brush against his length a few times, making the searing heat burn in his stomach.

One hand gripping the bedsheets and the other forcing your head down on his cock, Alfons begins driving himself deep into your throat, lost in his own pleasure.  It was unlike him to lose control so easily.  Your jaw begins to ache, some fluid dripping down your chin.  If you could only look at him, you would see his lips quiver so exquisitely.

No, no…

Just when Alfons is about to finish, he rotates your collar to the back of your neck and tugs on the cool metal ring.  He can't lose here.  It's tempting, but not now.  The harsh leather digs into your skin, making you whimper.  The vibrations go straight to his cock, making his breath catch in his throat.  He wipes your tears away with his thumbs.  “What a good girl.  Lick it all up.”  You collect all his fluids, licking your lips before pulling away.  What a mess you've made, leaving his cock cold, wet, and painfully hard.

“What a lovely expression…” Alfons feels his high seeping away as he guides your dripping nectar on top of him, your chest flush against his.  He takes his time admiring the view.  Your slow blinks, the pleading pout.  The candlelight dancing across your bare skin.  It's all on purpose, isn't it?  You're driving him positively mad.  Alfons absentmindedly traces your thighs, his cold fingers making you shiver before giving your bottom a loud slap, earning himself a delicious whimper.

He grabs your chin to make you meet his crazed, glimmering silver gaze.

“You'll do whatever your master tells you to do, won't you?”

“Yes, sir.”

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Author's Note

beata maria you know I am a righteous man of my virtue I am justly proud

happy birthday alfons

my sincerest apologies to everyone who reads this 😔😔 don't expect me to write more nsfw

yk this is my first smut piece... it's very different from how I normally write. usually I pile up on descriptions (like the end of this one) but apparently not supposed to do that??? idk man

these poor souls (affectionate) wanted to be tagged for this specific post so here

@sh0jun @lycemagee @sapphire-323 @rubia8 @floydsteeth

@letter-from-afar @mxrmaid-poet @shadowylakes @tako-cafe

masterlist

[natimiles]

Lazy morning with Jude

Words: 597

Tags: scenario; fluffy; no pronouns specified; established relationship.

Notes: I did my best to make Jude sound like Jude, HAIUSEHASU. I hope this brightens your night, @judejazza! 🤍

In the first few weeks of the relationship, it was weird for you to wake up in the morning to an empty bed and his side already cold. You wouldn’t deny it made you feel strange, and sometimes you wondered if you were disrupting his routine, or if he really wanted you there.

Jude could be rough and sadistic, but he was never a liar. If he said your company was something he enjoyed, even if he didn’t sleep that much anyway, then you knew better than to doubt his word. That and his actions, which always spoke louder.

Every night, he would cling to you as soon as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. Sometimes he wouldn’t even wait for you to settle; he would pull you down and lock you in his embrace, intertwining his legs with yours. And you’d happily nuzzle against him, deeply inhaling his scent that did wonders to relax you.

Then you grew accustomed to this routine of yours, where you usually woke up alone, but never lonely. And sometimes you were lucky enough to wake up for a few minutes and catch a glimpse of him before he left for work.

Like now. 

You wake up to something warm pressing against your forehead and hear some soft words you can’t understand. You grumble unintelligible sounds as your mind slowly wakes up. Scrunching up your nose, you flutter your eyes open, and even though it’s still dark outside, you can see a silhouette beside you.

“Jude?” you call out, your voice heavy with sleep.

“Ha?” he clicks his tongue and gently coaxes your eyes to close with his fingertips. “Go back to sleep.”

“But you—” You take his hand away, but he brings it back to your eyelids. Twice. “Jude!” you complain, holding it against your cheek now.

“Got ‘nother hand, y’know? Can put ya back to sleep real easy, princess,” he threatens, but you know he wouldn’t.

“Then just let me wish you a good day,” you say, shifting your body to get a better look at him and squeezing his hand tighter.

He could free his hand anytime, but he doesn’t, and it makes you tingly inside. He sighs loudly and bends at his waist, using his other hand to support himself on the headboard, bringing his face close to yours. You stay like this for a few moments, just looking into each other’s eyes.

“So?”

“Hm?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Where’re my good day wishes? Can’t wait for ‘em all day.”

“Oh!” you smile, your whole face lighting up as his words sink into your brain. He almost feels the need to close his eyes to not be blinded by your brightness. “Have a good day! Take care of yourself, and come back home in one piece.” You hold his hand tighter and bring your other hand to the back of his neck, using it as leverage to lift your face slightly and peck his lips. “I love you.”

“Good princess,” he chuckles through his nose. “Now back to sleep. Love too,” he mutters so softly that you almost don’t hear it, and kisses your forehead.

You recognize the warmth and realize what the words you couldn’t understand earlier were. You can’t help but feel your cheeks blushing, and he smirks widely at your sheepish expression. He would tease you a lot if he didn’t have to leave already — he probably will when he comes back home later.

And with this cozy feeling inside, you close your eyes and try to sleep a little more.

Masterlists

[violettduchess]

A/N: My first Ikevil fic! I loved Harry's route and figured why not ease into writing him by starting with a kiss 💋

Harrison x Reader

WC: 500

Note: I only tagged people who have previously asked to be tagged in everything. If you want to specifically be tagged in Ikemen Villains fics/headcanons, please let me know!

You might think that if you found a man reading by firelight, settled into an expensive leather Ottoman the color of burnished copper, he would be drinking whiskey. Or maybe wine. A rich Irish single malt or perhaps layered, velvety Merlot.

But not your Harry.

He’s drinking strawberry milk. 

The sight of it has laughter bubbling out of you, a soft, almost musical sound and he looks up, his wintergreen eyes suddenly bright as he watches you set down your evening clutch and approach him. The missive he was reading slips from his long fingers, flutters down onto the thick burgundy carpet. There are other, far more important matters that require his attention now.

He reaches for you, strong hands gripping the line of your waist as you boldly straddle his lap, your voluminous maroon skirt spreading across him like a blossoming flower. His smile is slow and unhurried when you lean down, touching your forehead to his. You lock your fingers behind his neck, breathing in the familiar, tangy scent of mint.

“They kept you out far too late,” he murmurs, his voice enveloping you like the softest of cashmere.

“I’m here now,” you answer, falling into the pastel tenderness of his gaze, struck for the hundredth time by just how beautiful he is. You glance over at the glass of pale pink milk he’s set down on the end table. “How’s your nightcap?” You’re teasing him and he loves it.

Gently pulling you closer, his eyes flutter closed like a butterfly closing its brilliant wings. “C’mere and have a taste.”

His lips are sweet, like strawberries kissed by summer sunshine. His palms slide down to feel the curve of your hip through your skirt, his grip tightening, pulling you closer still. Your hands unlock and you wrap both arms fully around him, melting into the hard planes of his body. He kisses you slowly, as if he has all the time in the world, a hedonist indulging himself in the most heady of pleasures. He savors each kiss, languid and almost lazy in the movement of his lips, the slide of his tongue against yours. 

“Harry…” His name, that cherished and precious word, is a whisper, a twinkle of starlight in the night. Twin tendrils of the softest affection and the brightest desire are twined around it. He drops his head, burying his face into the warm curve of your neck, pressing his lips against the place where your heart is drumming just for him. He doesn’t need to open his eyes because in your arms, there is nothing but truth. He feels it in the way your fingers push their way through his tawny hair. He hears it in the stuttering breath that escapes you. He tastes it on your lips and smells it on your skin.

He rises, effortlessly lifting you into his arms, holding you close against his chest as his long legs swallow the distance to your bedroom. You cling to him, press a kiss to his cheek as he carries you, not caring where you’re going. 

After all, in his arms, you are always home.

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics

@justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating

@portrait-ninja @starlitmanor-network

[candied-boys]

📻Country Radio Themed Prompt List🐎

Y'all, it's rodeo season and I'm havin' a hot cowgirl summer!

I know there are at least a few of us out here who love a little small town, texas two-step, roll in the hay, tailgate party, coffee with a sunrise, dusty boots and sundresses kinda slow life. I know I can't stop putting my favs in situations whenever I listen to country music and I hope y'all hop on the bandwagon and join me for my first creation challenge!

So round up your fav cowboys and giddy up, gurl! We ride 'til the end of September! Radio playlists below👇

FAQ:

Can I submit something I already created if it fits the vibe?

HELL YEAH! Old content that fits the theme in anyway and new creations are all welcome! (Honestly even if it doesn't fit any of the prompts, I'll take any country content I can get so please reblog your works and tag me!)

How can I write for the country genre if I'm not familiar with it?

Don't sweat it! If you vibe with anything here that's more than enough! I tried to pick lyrics with a variety of themes - family, love, coming of age, angst, bad boys/girls etc. They all centre around a sense of connection and relationships - universally human themes.

We're all here playing games that locate the characters inside cultures outside of Japan and we're here writing for cultures outside our own when writing for these games, so don't be shy! Just let yourself have fun.

What should I do with lyrics?

Use the prompts however you like; Any and all types of content submissions are welcome — writing, drabbles, head canons, drawing, mood boards, playlists, whatever makes you say, "Hell yeah!"

Examples: You could use the lyrics directly as quotes, indirectly as the premise for the art. Anything! You could incorporate the lyrics from the rest of the song. There are a ton of great lines/ideas in the rest of each song. You're not restricted to these quotes. I just picked ones that speak to me or have a strong image. If you vibe with it and it inspires you, go for it!

What fandoms can I use with these prompts?

Any suitors from games by CYBIRD (Ikepri, Ikevamp, Ikerev, MidCin, Ikevil, Ikesen, Ikegen, Morganatic Idol, ANYTHING)

What kind of content is allowed?

Sfw, nsfw, dark, angst, fluff, suitor x suitor, selfship, oc x suitor — anything is fine. I only ask that you use Tumblr’s built-in content label system to mark content as mature when appropriate. Use tags and warnings as you see necessary.

What tags should I use?

#CountryRadioCC

please at me @candied-boys so I can add your work to a masterlist

Playlists:

Lyrics:

Heart Like A Truck - Lainey Wilson

I got a hankering for four wide tires

And I can't help it, it's the way I'm wired

'Fore you get too close

Boy, you need to know

Turn - Tyler Hubbard

The way she turns 501s into long, tan legs

She can turn a bad day around like she turns those heads

She can turn one little look into turnin' me on

Five more minutes into all night long

Fishin' in the Dark - Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

And it don't matter if we sit forever

And the fish don't bite

Jump in the river and cool ourselves

From the heat of the night

I Grew Up On A Farm - The Reklaws

Why I gotta watch the sunrise

Job ain't ever done till it's done right

I'll tell you what makes me cry about a steel guitar

And why I gotta work so hard

Dirt Cheap - Cody Johnson

That little girl that used to swing right there

I still see her pink bow in her brown hair

Runnin' up after one of them long days

A big smile makin' every little worry fade

Use Me - Dallas Smith

I'll let you go like I always do

Won't hurt as bad 'cause I always knew

That I was just a chapter, no happily-ever-after

Old Dirt Roads - Owen Riegling

Come and find me down where the treeline ends

And the cattails grow

We can be free, livin' our dreams out

Singin' to the radio

American Kids - Kenny Chesney

Sister's got a boyfriend Daddy doesn't like

Now he's sittin' out back, 3030 in his lap

In the blue bug zapper light

Fast Car - Luke Combs

Won't have to drive too far

Just across the border and into the city

And you and I can both get jobs

Finally see what it means to be living

Long Hot Summer - Keith Urban

I wanna see your brown skin shimmer

In the sun for the first time

I gotta be the one who knows just what to do to you

To get me that smile

I Like It, I Love It - Tim McGraw

Spent 48 dollars last night at the county fair

I throwed out my shoulder, but I won her that teddy bear

Cowgirls - Morgan Wallen

And she got a cold heart but she got a warm smile

Cut from the same cloth, she kinda buck-wild

Little bit angel, whole lotta outlaw

She's trouble but I'll tell you right now, y'all

A banner for y'all:

Adorable horse dividers by @/plum98

[stellari-s]

a promise i want to keep . . .

request; it was a prompt from @judejazza hehe ✨✨ and requests are currently open!

wc; 1 958.

tags; jude jazza x gn! fairytale keeper! reader, injury fic, slight presence of blood, may be kinda ooc (this is my first time writing for jude and ikevil), pain inflicted on reader, best to assume pre-established relationship, jude is softer if you squint a bit 👀

summary; you had gotten injured after a mission because you took a hit for jude, but roger is out right now, and so who ends up treating your injuries? well, who else is there but jude?

you had made a mistake — except that you hadn’t. that is to say: you didn’t think you made a mistake, but in the eyes of the man before you, he apparently seemed to think otherwise.

“ow ow ow, jude,” you hiss, gritting your teeth together in an attempt to distract yourself from the sharp sting on your arm inflicted by a certain ruthless fairy. “be more gentle—please.”

“gentle?” jude repeats your words, albeit with a more cold tone and wicked grin. “i betcha you’re hopin’ for that quack of a doctor to come and treat your wounds so ‘gently’ right about now, but what a shame he’s out. the goddess of luck just ain’t on your side today.”

actually, you don’t mind being with jude... not that you’d admit such a thing to his face.

that, and you could find it in your heart to, i don’t know, be a little more nice.

despite that, though, you know that jude very well could have just left you there. if he was a truly harsh, truly cruel person that others may make him out to be, that would be exactly what he would’ve done. when you think of it like that, you really can’t bring yourself to mind.

that alone was enough to give you a sense of comfort.

you start to retreat into the confines of your own thoughts, and for a while, that is enough to withdraw you from the pain of the wound, letting it fade into a throbbing ache in the background.

that is, until another sharp pain brings you (unpleasantly) back to your senses. “ack, jude, really, if i wasn’t watching you, i would’ve thought you were out to reopen my wound, not treat it, i swear.”

“aw, does it hurt? what a shame ya won’t be protectin’ me next time.” his voice drips with sarcasm, but the next moment his smirk drops into a more serious, or maybe angry, expression. “if ya got the time to complain to me, ya got the time to sit and reflect how much of an idiot ya were back there. should i maybe look at your head first? or if ya prefer to reflect, you can sit on your knees to reflect yourself.”

“i don’t need to be on my knees for you to treat my arm,” you manage to talk back, your shoulders raising and eyes narrowing in a defensive posture.

you had responded the way you did in a somewhat sore attempt to hide how hurt you had felt by the words that pierced through your heart like a blade lathered with a generous coating of poison.

to your surprise, though, you see the silver-haired man before you grin. “oh? seems at least you got some guts.” jude then narrows his purple eyes, which reminds you of a field of violets in a moonlit night and makes you feel strangely calm, as he clicks his tongue in exasperation. “but talk ‘bout a joke goin’ over the head,” he mutters, though his hands continue to clean the wound. it seems he is no longer interested in pressing on the wound purposely for his own amusement.

“...it doesn’t hurt as much.”

the comment was meant for yourself, but it seems it had reached jude’s ears as he directs a glare in your direction. “yeah? want me to do it again?”

you feel a shiver rush up your spine like a spider crawling upwards, causing you to stiffen in place.

“n-no thank you.”

you two fall into a silence after this, letting jude focus on your wound. occasionally you hear him mutter how he was going to make roger pay tenfold for increasing his workload, but it doesn’t escape you how he still pays close attention to your wound.

as he does, the weight of your actions from the mission finally settle in your mind.

at first, when jude had called you an “idiot,” it really did hurt your feelings. you know his words are intentionally harsh, and if he wanted to be nice, he would find a way to twist those words to make them sound mean. but thinking back on the incident that had landed you two in the basement of crown castle as “doctor” and patient, you know the words he had spoken are the truth, even though he had casually waved it off as a “joke.”

— some time ago.

“jude, are you sure we should just walk back? we can always hail a carriage.”

“nah, the mission from queenie’s officially over, but there’s something i gotta check first. goin’ by foot’s faster in this case. if ya going to stick with me though then don’t get in my way.”

as a fairytale keeper, you don’t have an obligation to stick with jude any longer. if you wanted, you could simply go back to the castle, write the report, and submit it to victor. but there is a miniscule feeling tugging in your chest.

perhaps it was an innocent curiosity. a sudden, maybe “idiotic” feeling bubbling inside you urges you to nod your head, say “yes, let me come with” regardless of any rationale. it threatened to overflow.

outside of missions, what was jude like? you knew he ran another business, and that he has made a sea of enemies by now, but what else?

“…please take me with you, jude.”

a smirk graces jude’s lips. “just remember ya asked for it, so don’t come runnin’ to me if ya end up cryin’.”

the meaning of those words would sink in soon after, when apparently someone who is within this vast “sea of enemies” charges head-on toward jude from a blind spot.

jude starts to turn around, but when you see the silver gleam of a knife, your body moves on your own.

he could have protected himself all right. you know that well in your head.

so why did you take a blow for him? for jude, of all people? was it some attempt to cling onto any sense of justice in this dark world that muddled your sense of morality, maybe?

by now, jude had started wrapping gauze around your arm. you simply watch the bright red of your own blood spread like a flower blooming on the white of the fabric.

“…jude?”

“yeah?”

you had thought you were ready to confess your thoughts to him, but much to your chagrin, once you actually open your mouth to speak, the words come out with a slightly trembling, hesitant quality.

“about what you said before. i think… you were right.” you suck in a breath to try and recompose yourself (to little avail). “what i did back there was… idiotic, as you say. i’ll admit that.”

jude doesn’t respond, but you can tell he is listening, even without making eye contact with him.

you take his silence as a cue to continue — or rather, to finish your thought. “but, i don’t think that makes me, as a person, an idiot.”

jude scoffs. “a person is defined by their actions, whether they like it or not. if ya got good intentions but the way ya go ‘bout it is shitty, there ain’t no one who’ll give a damn.”

“that’s quite funny coming from you,” you blurt out before thinking, earning yourself a sharp look from those stormy violet eyes of his.

“ya know that’s besides the point, smartie. if ya really want me to think otherwise, i hope you’re prepared to pay back the debt ya owe. if not… well, at least ya ain’t idiotic enough to not know.”

he finishes wrapping the gauze around your arm then, though he doesn’t let go without giving your arm another squeeze, a threatening motion in its essence.

“ouch! okay, alright, i get it! i will pay you back, so stop squeezing my arm and pressing on the wound!!”

“next time don’t go dawdlin’ around tryin’ to protect me if all ya gonna do is get hurt and give me more work on my plate.”

you see jude’s eyes glare at you, maybe even gleaming slightly due to the lighting. his expression doesn’t bother to conceal his annoyance either. but once again you had come to the realization that — twisted as it was — this was his way of warning you, as one may arguably remember best through pain.

it was his way of protecting you.

his words were mean, but he never once abandoned you; he never left you behind. hell, here he was, probably having better things to do right about now, treating your arm (though that was only because roger was out).

the thought tickles your mind and makes a smile break out on your lips as you try to stifle laughter. jude, on the other hand, doesn’t seem so amused.

“ah? the hell’s so funny?”

“nothing.” more stifled laughter.

“aw, ya can’t be that much of a freak.” jude once again has that wicked smirk playing on his lips, glowing in his eyes. “how ‘bout i sew your mouth shut first for lyin’ through your teeth?”

“say what you want, but i know you won’t actually go through the pain of doing that.”

when you see jude’s eyes widen slightly, you can’t help but let out a small victory cheer in the depth of your heart for catching him off guard, even a little bit.

it was a small victory indeed, though, for jude managed to recover quickly.

“well if ya can go ‘n talk back to me like that, guess ya feel better.”

now it is your turn to feel surprised as jude suddenly lets go, turning his back on you and walking back upstairs in long strides. you lift your arms to reach out for him, unable to move more than that due to surprise for a brief moment. when you can move, you jump off the table on which you sat while jude was treating you to follow after him.

“ah… hey, jude! wait for me! would it kill you to walk a little slower?!”

though you can’t see his expression from where you are (and so you could be completely wrong), you have an inkling at least he isn’t wearing as harsh an expression as he had when he was facing you.

[jude seemed a little mad today.

i do get where he is coming from, too, i really do. that said, a part of me felt that if i hadn’t taken the hit for him, then he would have taken it for me. i’m not sure if he respects me at this point (maybe he just finds me annoying) but still, i’m convinced it’s in his nature to protect others.

like a guardian fairy, he can’t… not protect others. even if it’s in his own, jude way.

that’s why i couldn’t help thinking if jude is the one protecting others, then who is there to protect him?

maybe that person isn’t me, and i think i ended up in jude’s debt rather than earning any semblance of thanks. but even so, i can’t help but feel i want to become that person someday.

perhaps it’s simply naïveté, but that’s why until that day may come, i hope i can at least stay by his side.

“what a shame you won’t be protecting me next time…”

i know you probably won’t see this note, jude, but i just want to say that unfortunately, i don’t think this will stop me from trying in the future, nor do i really regret it.

——after all, just like you have your own promise you want to keep, i, too, have one of my own i do not want to break.]

(found on a crumpled notebook page, ripped neatly out from the book)

[witheredgardenparty]

Aimonomia

Read on AO3 (AO3 Account)

(This might look familiar. Author moved blogs.)

Jude Jazza x g/n Reader

Originally a request for the Holiday 2023 Tarot Request Game.

You must hate him, you think, for the trench he has built between you. (or, the one where you make a New Year's resolution.)

Warnings: the game is canonically dark romance, slightly more descriptive than canon-typical violence, Reader gets injured (Reader will be fine), liberties taken with Jude's accent, liberties taken in general since the game isn't actually localized yet, Reader is in MC's position but we're ignoring the presets, Jude calls Reader "princess" which is meant as an insult/commentary (YMMV with gender comfort), other characters are mentioned/present, spoilers to various things, not that angsty - Reader is just annoyed the whole time, Jude's love language is increasing debt

Work Count: 4.2k

You were not supposed to go on this mission. There was not even supposed to have been a mission. Generally speaking, it is not often that missions are actually given out on holidays. Not due to any true respect for the significance of the day itself, but out of a strange sense of propriety on Victor's part. 

Busy body eccentric that he is, Victor considers it the poorest of taste to not seize any excuse for celebration. Something domestic inside drives him to decorate garishly and cook lavishly. Maybe it is for this reason, he cannot help but treat the Crown like his unruly children.

And like unruly children, he plans to herd them into the dining hall to enjoy the evening. The tables will be piled high with roasted turkey and scones and braised vegetables and scones. They will feast and count down the minutes until midnight and it will be a memorable experience for all. Or, well, that had been the plan.

Unfortunately, William had happened upon some last minute intel. It was the sort of signal they had been waiting for. Their targets were perfectly in position, the plans already in motion. Victor had sulked for all of a sour half-second before cheerfully designating a team.

It goes like this: New Year's Eve is a tumultuous day. Although the Crown demands a certain priority on its members' obligations, it does its best not to inconvenience unnecessarily. This is the sort of job for a man who hates to waste his time.

...please read the rest on AO3. (Requires an Account)

"I saw the Ikevil tag and I know what that is... can I please request Jude with New Year's kiss?" - Anon

The Draw:

The Turtle and Coriander (Satisfaction) - In Reverse

Dahlia (Refinement)

The Hanged Man

[nightghoul381]

Smile for Me ~ Elbert Greetia (POV) x Reader

Entry number 6 in @judejazza's An Invitation to Crown Castle event!

Pairing: Elbert Greetia (POV) x Reader Prompt: Linked Fingers Genre: Hurt/Comfort-y fluff CW: None- Elbie's just a bit of a disaster WC: 1.6k

I wish to do something for you, so that I can see your beautiful smile again. The days have been so gloomy and grey the past weeks I feel as though your smile, too, has hidden behind the clouds.

I’ve done my best to give you beautiful things, and yet none of them seems to be able to keep the smile on your face for more than a fraction of a second. I feel darkness inside when your face is so unnaturally demure.

“I don’t know what to do, Al,” I sigh, staring out my window to where you sit in the garden gazebo, only slightly sheltered from the spattering of rain falling around you. Your eyes are fixated on the sky, a forlorn expression clouding your face and I can only imagine the same is mirrored on mine.

“Haha, you’re quite smitten with her aren’t you?  Have you told her that? Have you made her feel the depth of your love?”

“I believe so. I’ve given her several gowns and jewelry to match, yet she still looks so sad. Perhaps they are not beautiful enough…”

I feel Al’s presence move directly behind me, joining me to stare out the window and watch you lament outside.

“Oh dear, she does look troubled, doesn’t she? I wonder, what time have you spent together lately, just the two of you?” Al remarks, his gloved hands flashing two fingers in front of me.

I search my memory but seem to come up short. I’ve run into you a few times and those are the times I’ve given you your gifts, but those moments had been unmistakably brief, with you running off to your room to stow away your present and I to mine as the weather had me feeling particularly tired.

I let out a deep sigh, pressing my hand against the cold glass, wishing to draw your attention to me, yet too unsure of myself to do so.

“Perhaps she’s grown tired of me?” I muse. Surely it must be exhausting having to tolerate my eccentricities. Is this possibly why you’ve not tried on your dresses for me? You may be trying to indicate that you no longer wish for me to see you dressed so beautifully. Perhaps you’re afraid of me again. I don’t mean to hurt you, but the greed in my heart is vicious and unrelenting.

“Elbert, go speak with her. I’ve not a doubt in my mind she merely wishes to be in your presence,” Alfons mutters, a pitying smirk fixed in my direction.

“It’s raining.”

“It’s been raining for several days. That hasn’t stopped you from going out to purchase things, so should you really let something so benign prevent you from going to your lover?”

“If I catch a cold, she’ll be upset with me. Could you have her come inside to see me?” I asked, withdrawing my hand from the window as a chill rushes through my body.

“This is a matter between lovers, I’m not about to jump in the middle of it. Unless you’re inviting me for some fun after reconciling, that is,” Alfons winks and strides out of the room with a jovial laugh.

A fierce sense of possessiveness wells up within me, and I have to fight down the urge to keep you locked in my room, away from the prying eyes of others. Your beautiful smile belongs to me, your debauched expression belongs to me, all of you is mine. You’ve said as much before.

I move to my wardrobe and pull a thick coat and a hooded cloak out to wear.

Silently, I make my way through the gentle rain, coming up beside you and clearing my throat.

“Elbert!” You squeak, whirling in my direction.

“You looked sad,” I state, fixing my eyes on your damp hair. “And you’ll catch a cold.”

“I’ll be fine. You can head back inside if you’d like. I’ll be in after a few more minutes.”

Your expression seems darker again and my heart twists. What can I do to draw your smile out again? The darkness doesn’t suit you.

I find my body moving of its own accord, my long fingers twining with yours and holding fast.

“Your hands are cold,” I mutter, lifting them to my lips and pressing gentle kisses against your knuckles.

“I…” your voice cuts off briefly as I allow my kisses to travel up your arm.

“Your arms are cold too.”

I let my gaze meet with yours and the faint dusting of pink on your cheeks seems to cause my heart to begin beating again. Still holding your fingers, I tug you gently closer, staring down into your dazed expression before sealing my lips over yours. The kiss is quick and soft, but it’s enough to make me feel more alive than I’ve felt in days.

“Your lips are cold.”

Your tongue darts out subconsciously, swiping at your lower lip as you stare up at me.

“Can you warm them up?”

It’s not often I feel the primal need to claim you, to seal my need for you so passionately, lest you forget who you belong to. Yet when you look at me with those desperate eyes, and ask such things of me, I’m afraid I lose myself to those feelings.

I squeeze my fingers around yours more tightly, refusing to let go as our lips dance together, sucking and nipping at one another as if we’re vying for control, to devour one another.

I can feel my blood racing through my veins as you pull away just briefly, just enough to speak.

“I think… I think I’d like to go inside now…” You whisper, breathing uneven and ragged.

I still haven’t seen your smile. You may very well be through with me, and yet your fingers still remain linked with mine as you tug me back toward the castle. Our hands never separate as we hurry through the halls and to your room.

At the closed door, I feel you pull away and an unknown fear grips me. I wrap my arms around you, holding your rain-soaked body close.

“El… I need to open the door, then we can be as close as you wish.”

Was that a chuckle? I glance down and see a shy smirk tugging at the corners of your lips and feel the blackness settled in my heart begin to dissipate.

I allow you to be free from my grasp for just long enough to open the door, after which I bundle you inside, closing the door and flicking the lock to ensure our privacy.

I stare at your face with a serious expression.

“Will you smile again?” I plead, tracing your lips with my thumb.

You seem surprised by my question, a slight frown creasing your brow for a moment. “Of course, I’ll smile again… Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

I press a kiss to your lips briefly, resting my forehead against yours.

“You’ve not smiled in such a long time. Not truly. I tried to make you smile with the beautiful things but the smile faded so quickly,” I admit, a tightness in my chest constricting at the confession.

“You bought them to make me smile?” You ask incredulously.

“Is that so surprising?”

“I thought you were giving them to me because they were no longer beautiful to you, I had no idea you’d been trying to make me smile!”

You blush a bright red, as you lift your hands to cover your face.

“Please don’t hide your face from me,” I beg, my lips beginning to tremble.

Your shoulders shake and I step back in shock. I hadn’t meant to make you cry…

“Shall I leave?” I whisper.

Your shaking seems to intensify as laughter spills out of your hands.

Laughing…?

“Have I said something funny?” I ask, slipping my fingers between yours to pull them away from your face.

Your eyes are clenched shut but your mouth is unmistakably shining with happiness. When you finally open your eyes, you leap up, wrapping your arms around my neck and pulling me into a deep kiss.

I’m afraid I’m unsure of what to do with myself, my heart feels as though it may burst with how quickly my emotions have been changing.

“I’m sorry for misunderstanding, I truly thought that you have been too busy for me, and with the weather as it’s been, I’ve been feeling very lonely.”

“Lonely?”

“I just want to spend time with you. I don’t need beautiful things to make me happy. The loveliest thing I can think of would be time I get to spend with you. So please, don’t leave.”

Your grin is vibrant, seeming to light up the room and restore color to an otherwise grey surrounding. Perhaps this darkness I’ve been feeling… has it also been lonliness?

I think on this for a moment before I feel your hands slide down my arms, twining with mine and pulling me toward the settee before a warmly lit fire.

“Let’s stay together and warm up. Please?” You ask, sliding onto one of the cushions and looking up at me with pleading eyes. Beautiful pleading eyes.

“Smile for me?” I whisper, watching with bated breath. “If I stay will you smile for me?”

Your face cracks into a huge grin and another burst of laughter bubbles up from your chest.

“Of course I’ll smile for you! Spending time with you makes me want to smile.”

That was all? Spending time with me was all it took to make you smile? I feel embarrassed for not having realized such a thing sooner, my face growing hot as I settle onto the cushion beside you.

“All I need to do to see your smile is spend time with you?” I murmur, still mildly in disbelief.

“Yes, Elbert. Being with you makes me so happy, I can’t help but smile.”

My own lips curl up into a pleased smile of my own, warmth filling me with a sense of peace I’ve been craving.

“Then I shall never leave you.”

Taglist: @judejazza @natimiles @aquagirl1978 @candied-boys @themiscarnival

Let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list!

[myusuchaa]

Ikemen Villains: When He is Jealous: part II

What happens when they see you with someone else?

༊·˚ ELLIS

Similar to the feeling of watching a sunset turn to dusk, his twilight eyes darken to a glowing violet when his jealousy shines through. Chasing after you, running to see you as soon as he finishes work at the trading company. To make sure you’re fine - that no one is making you as happy as he is. He reaches toward you, out of breath and slightly blushing. Cornering you against the wall, he raises his arm above you, completely towering over your small frame.

“Don’t smile at anyone other than me. Don’t laugh with anyone other than me. Forget about everything and think only of me.”

Though his curse can bound your wrists and ankles together with sharp thorns, the prickly sensation it leaves fills you with pleasure, and the kisses he plants on your sore skin never felt sweeter.

༊·˚ JUDE

One thing about Jude - he will always mark and take what’s his. He will let everyone he deals with know that you are his woman, that handling you is not to be taken lightly. Though he prefers his lady to be feisty and independent, he will not hesitate to step in and show ownership when need be. When he finds out the gangs that are after him have been plotting to take you away, he tells you there’s two lessons he needs to teach:

“The first lesson I’ll show ‘em is to keep their damn paws to themselves ‘n mind their own damn business, those pricks.”

He hisses this as he slowly circles you, checking your body for injuries. He then leans into your neck, grabs it with one hand, and whispers,

“The second lesson… I’ll have to show ya in private. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

༊·˚ ROGER

For starters, he probably wouldn’t let you get into a situation where anyone could put a move on you in the first place. He can hear advances plotted against you before you even knew where they were coming from. But perhaps he doesn't care so much what other men do toward you. Rather, he wants to continuously show you what he can do for you. To you.

“I wont apologize for what I did to you last night... and I might not be able to hold back next time."

Despite his brusque appearance, his ego bruises easily. To make up for it, he reminds you exactly who he is. Him, the hunter, and you, his prey.

༊·˚ VICTOR

You always knew he chose to not share his innermost self with just anyone. He was warm, he was vibrant. He was eccentric. But like all entertainers, the mask he wears has to come off eventually. And when it's off, he desires you fiercely.

"I want to be the only man you choose. I want you to come back, to me." You watch the beauty mark on his lip rise and fall as he sensually mutters these words to you, who lay in his embrace.

As mysterious as a crescent moon behind the clouds, the looming scent of oncoming rain, Victor's envy creeps up on you. Until you no longer recognize the man before you.

༊·˚ RING

"You taught me how good this feels..." His hand caresses your cheek and slides to the back of your head, tugging your hair softly.

"Teach me more…" breathless and raspy, he pushes you down on all fours. Novelty begs attention, and his palate is a clean slate.

Behind his steadfast demeanor is a man pining for affection. For your touch. Your scent. The way you make his heart leap is unlike anything he has felt before. To anyone who would hurt you, take you, long for you - he will cut them down. The loyal dog has one master, after all.

༊·˚ DARIUS

Cold as he is, with a scornful look in his eyes, his calculating nature is easily pit against anyone who attempts to take you from him. He's called you an "interesting being", a "common bird". Something that usually doesn't pique his interest. And yet a hungry curiosity wells up in him when he gazes upon you in his hands.

His arm wraps around your stomach as he holds you in place from behind. "Be careful, little bird.. you may just get eaten up."

A magician with more than one trick up his sleeve. What is it about you that entrances him so? To ensure no one else finds out, he intends to never let you go.

༊·˚ NIKA

As his current plaything, you are to please him at will. You tempt his urges, and if there is someone in the way, he'll manipulate the situation and the sentiments to get what he wants. And he does not hold back from doing that to you. When he holds your hands in his, an overwhelming surge of affection, yearning, as thick and warm as the mind-numbing effects of a drug, shakes you down to your core.

"Come now, my sweet. Can't you show me who you want? Who makes you feel good?"

The intensity of emotion he can sway you with is used like a weapon. At his mercy, you melt in his hands.

Read Part I here

[alittlerobin]

Roger/Kate

tags: nsfw; oral, face-fucking, intercrural, dacryphilia, rough play word count: 2.3k

She stood outside the door to the lab, wringing her hands into her skirts as she worked up the nerve to go inside. 

Not like it mattered. She couldn’t just turn around and leave, because he’d already know she was there. She knew he always listened to her footsteps, to her heartbeat, knowing exactly when she approached and when she shied away. If she left now, she’d doubtlessly hear him calling out to her, that smooth and cocky voice telling her to stop fretting and get her butt inside. 

Squaring her shoulders, she pressed her hands against the door and pushed it open. There was no point knocking, anyway. Roger sat at his main lab table, his gaze trained on a thick stack of notes. He didn’t react, but he would’ve known she was coming to see him the moment her foot took the first step down into the basement. 

She crossed the room halfway, then stopped, staying out of reach. Except Roger didn’t look at her. He simply kept scribbling on the page, the pencil lead scratching the paper with each quick stroke. 

It was her choice to come here. Her choice to ask him for help. But… come on, couldn’t he catch the hint and let her off easy for once?

She huffed, cheeks puffed out and pouty… and was rewarded with a quiet chuckle.

“Need something, lil lady?”

Yes. She did.

She’d been stressed, frustrated. During the last mission, her mistake had gotten Jude stabbed. And no matter how much Ellis insisted it would’ve happened regardless, it didn’t help. She was definitely better now than when she’d joined Crown, stronger, more sensible, but… it wasn’t enough. She wanted to do more, help more, fight more—and when she failed, it made her angry with herself, with no real outlet for it.

“......I need to cry.”

The pencil dropped. “Oh.”

“But I can’t make myself cry, no matter what I try right now, so…” She kept her gaze down, watching the floor as she spoke, but she heard the scraping of the stool as Roger pushed it back. She didn’t need to look up to know he would be staring at her in anticipation. “...Will you make me cry?”

“And that’s already my reward for helping out, yeah?”

A small smile cracked the corners of her lips. He tried to play it off, but she didn’t need his ability to hear the hitch in his breath. “I’ll remind you that right now, you owe me a favor, not the other way around.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. She didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, his feet were on the floor before her and her chin was being lifted. 

Roger cradled her face in his large hands and stroked a thumb across her cheek. His touch was gentle, almost curious, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. “You wanna be more specific about how I can make you cry?”

She… couldn’t say it out loud. Even if she’d managed to bring herself here, she wasn’t sure if she could string those words together. If she could ask him outright, plead for him to be rough like always, to make it seem like he was taking what he wanted by force when they both knew how down bad they were for each other—even if they refused to bring that dirty little fact out into the open. 

She met his amber gaze straight on, body tense and lips pursed, but her determination unwavering. 

It only took a second for him to smirk and say, “Or do you want me to hazard a guess?”

As if he didn’t already know the answer. “You know... what I like.”

“Yeah, I sure as hell do.”

He didn’t waste time. One arm snaked around her waist, while his other hand jerked her in by the chin as he crashed their mouths together. Any leeway he usually gave her was gone, the sweetness of ill-advised under-the-fireworks kisses forsaken in lieu of teeth pulling on her lower lip and a tongue thrusting into her mouth. 

But that was exactly what she wanted. 

Her fingers curled against his vest, feeling the firm muscle beneath—and she shivered, knowing exactly how it felt to be pinned beneath his strong arms and broad chest, only ever pretending she didn’t want to give him everything. 

One of his hands traveled up her chest, palming one of her breasts and squeezing it. Another deep chuckle rumbled against her mouth, and he shifted his mouth away, pressing his lips to her ear instead. “No corset today? Thought you were a proper, decent woman.”

“Well…” She bit back a whimper as he pinched a nipple, pain sparking with pleasure. “I also know what you like…”

“You sure as hell do.” The echo of their words rolled warm against her ear, making her whole body shiver. His hand kneaded her breasts through the fabric of her blouse and his teeth tugged on her earlobe. She didn’t know how he did it, how he got her so wet so fast, already aching to feel his fingers inside her. 

Only he didn’t hitch up her skirts like he usually did.

Instead, he pushed her down, her skirts barely cushioning her knees as they hit the cold laboratory floor. Maybe she wasn’t good with getting the words out yet, but she could raise her hands, undoing the fastening of his pants as soon as he’d stripped off his belt. 

His cock sprang free, half-hard and already intimidating. His large hand wrapped around the base, giving it a few quick strokes as she parted her lips, tipping up to kiss it. The salt of his precum had barely hit her tongue before his hands were in her hair, twisting into the strands as he fucked into her mouth. 

He was so big and thick it made her jaw ache. His fingers tangled in her hair, gripping roughly, the pull almost there but not enough. Not enough to draw out the tears she wanted to spill. Not until he started to thrust into her mouth, fast and deep, pumping himself down her throat. 

It wasn’t the first time. She’d had him in her mouth before, after a night of a few too many drinks at his favorite pub. That night, he’d carried her up the castle stairs in his arms while she nuzzled her face in the side of his neck, inhaling the scent of beer, medicine, and a musk that was distinctly him. He’d set her down in her bed, but she was the one who’d refused to let go, who fumbled with his clothes and his belt and sucked him into her mouth before he could hiss out a warning. 

Roger had been gentle then, coaxing her with softly muttered encouragements. He’d stroked her hair gently and slid his hand to her throat, instructing her on how to relax it so she could take more and more of him in, until her nose nestled into the dark curls all the way at the hilt. 

But tonight, she didn’t want gentle and he wasn’t giving it to her. Her fingers gripped his thighs, bracing herself as she tried not to choke on each hard snap of his hips, a mist finally building in her eyes. 

Almost there…

That’s what she wanted. For him to use her, to be rough and domineering even while he groaned and muttered, “Good girl, just look at how good you take me. Came down here just to get on your knees and suck my cock like that, looking so blissed out even though I’ve barely touched you.”

Was that how she looked? Lips parted, eyes hazy, a blush burning across her cheeks? Enraptured to have his cock down her throat and his fists full of her hair, her mind and body pleading for anything he’d give her? 

Moaning, her lashes fluttered as she shifted, knowing that if she slid a hand between her thighs he’d just slap it away. She rested herself on the heel of her foot, just to put a bit of pressure against her aching cunt.  

That first night, after she’d swallowed thick ribbons of his cum, Roger had fucked her with four of his fingers, muffling each of her moans with kisses as he brought her to climax again and again. She had barely been able to get out of bed in the morning, body aching and thighs sore, her mind reeling from bad decisions. 

But it had been so good. And so, so, so good every time after. Every mission together, every late night in the lab, every hasty fumble when the stress grew too great and the need too tempting.

She arched her tongue and sucked as best she could as he sank himself deep, hitting the back of her throat with a bruising pace. A moment later, she heard him swear, his fingers leaving her hair as he pulled out. Roger hastily squeezed his fingers around the base of his cock, staving off his orgasm. 

Kate was about to object, to plead for him to cum in her mouth, on her face, whatever he wanted. Instead, he jerked her up to her feet and yanked her around, throwing her facedown onto his table. 

Glass shattered somewhere—perhaps a vial—but neither of them reacted. Roger bent over her, dwarfing her body with his. He flipped up her skirts and dragged down her underwear, rubbing the tip of his hard cock between her dripping wet folds. 

He wouldn’t—she knew he wouldn’t—but her stomach still tightened and her legs quivered as she mewled out a barely audible, “N-no…” 

She didn’t even mean it anymore. It was automatic, the faint protest now only a formality in whatever the hell it was they had going on between them. Because even as she said no, she pushed back against him, helping coat him in the slick nectar dripping down her thighs. 

“You sure?” His mouth was hot against her ear, voice low and deep. His hands took hold of her waist, keeping her bent over the table as he thrust his cock between her thighs. “Because I can hear how fast your heart’s beating right now, and I bet it’d beat even faster if I fucked right inside you. Fucked in nice and deep... Bet you’d like it fast and rough, till those pretty nails of yours carved into the wood cause you didn’t know if you wanna beg me to stop or take you even harder.” 

A moan spilled from her lips, picturing it as she rubbed herself onto him. The fat tip of his cock caught on her entrance, just at the brink. If she tipped herself back, he’d fill her just like he said. She wanted it, wanted to be stretched out on his thick cock, wanted it inside her, scoring her, molding her to its shape. 

“Don’t you want that, Kate?” His fingers tightened on her waist, bruising her skin, and he pushed—but instead of slipping inside, he slid between her folds. Her insides clenched, empty and wanting, practically screaming for him to claim her.

“N-no…”

“You sure? Cause I think you do.” He bucked hard, each thrust made easy by the nectar flowing out of her. His cock rubbed between her folds, catching her clit for a brief second, only enough to tease and drive her crazy. “I think you want me fucking you, filling you up till my cum drips down your thighs. I’d fuck you so good, fuck you till your legs gave out, and then I’d eat it out of you while you soaked my tongue, barely able to remember anything except how to moan my name.”

“Th-that…” Sounded so good. She could picture it, could see how he’d fold her in half and drive himself deep until she screamed his name and begged him to keep going. “Ahh, Roger, p-please—”

“Please what, huh?”

“Please… everything.”

She felt him lean down, brushing his lips across the nape of her neck, and then he forced her legs tighter together, fucking between them at brutal pace. Her hips dug into the edge of the table, pain blending with pleasure, and she gasped when she felt him spilling between her thighs. 

A second later, he’d flipped her over, throwing her legs over his shoulders. He hitched her higher, her spine arching as his mouth went straight to her cunt, two fingers plunging inside along with his tongue. She would’ve thrashed from the pure pleasure if the arm around her waist didn’t hold her steady, pushing her further onto his mouth. He fucked her open and sucked on her clit until she came, gasping and crying and squirting onto his tongue. 

It was so good, so fucking good all she could do was squirm, moaning his name again and again. Tears finally, finally spilled down her cheeks and she sobbed as he kept going. He ate her out, taking her from her first orgasm straight to the second. Her legs trembled, followed by her entire body until the pulses became so strong she had to grab fistfuls of his hair and force him away from her, clenching her legs shut as she shook with rapture. 

Roger handled her so easily, a smirk on his glistening lips as he set her down on the table and wrapped her in his arms. He pulled her close, kissing her mouth, then her face, seeking out his payment. The flat of his tongue swept across her skin, licking up every tear before he pressed two gentle kisses to each of her eyelids. 

"Feeling better?" 

Catching her breath, Kate nodded and draped her arms around his neck. She didn’t bother trying to let the tears stop. Instead, she let them flow freely as she buried her face in his neck and whispered a barely audible plea of, "...Again."

Dividers by @natimiles

[aquagirl1978]

💐 Harri fluff pretty 🙏 please with strawberry milk on top

(Have you considered that one can probably taste the strawberry milk after kissing harri? *sighs as I stare wistfully into the distance*)

Love <3 V

Thank you @vioisgoinginsane - I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy it!

To Catch a Thief

A/N: The first fic in my Naughty or Nice event and my second entry for An Invitation to Crown hosted by @judejazza Pairing: Harrison Gray x Reader Prompt: play fighting Word Count: 730 Tags: fluff

“I have a problem and I was hoping you could help me,” Harrison said, plopping into the seat next to you on the couch.

“Good morning to you, too,” you replied, not looking up from the book you were reading.

“Morning,” he muttered as he ran his hair through his hair. He leaned a bit closer to you, dropping his voice. “I’m trying to catch a thief and I could use your help.”

“Oh?” You put your book to the side and stared into his mint green eyes, suddenly intrigued. 

“Yeah,” he continued, “I went to the kitchen just now, looking forward to drinking my strawberry milk. And could you believe it, but there was none left. Someone here drank the last glass, knowing that that was my milk.”

“The nerve of them!” You gasped dramatically at his predicament. “Whatever shall we do?”

“I have a list of suspects.” You raised a brow, curious to know who made the list. “Will loves strawberries, so he would be a prime suspect –”

“Except he’s not here now,” you chimed in.

“Exactly. You’re very observant. Alfons isn’t back yet either, so he’s off the list.”

“What about Jude?” 

“While he’s rude enough to commit such a crime, he’s not a fan of milk. I think we can safely cross him off the list.”

“Victor?”

“Nah, he’s more of a tea and scones guy for breakfast. Elbert probably hasn’t left his room since last night, admiring all his stuff.” Harrison sighed, truly perplexed. “That leaves Roger, Liam and Ellis.”

“Ellis does like sweets.” 

“Another excellent observation. He’s possibly our prime subject right now.”

“I’m glad we were able to sort that out.” You smiled smugly at Harrison, pleased you were able to help him. 

“Yeah, well, there’s another problem. Ellis isn’t here either. Some kind of early morning emergency that Victor assigned to him.”

“So then it has to be Liam or Roger.”

“That would seem to be, but there is one other possibility we haven’t explored.” Your eyes widened when he said your name. 

“Was it you?” he asked softly. “I won’t be mad if it was.”

“No,” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. “It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do such a thing to you. You’re my boyfriend. I love and adore you and know just how much you like your strawberry milk.” You flashed him the sweetest smile as you rested your hand on his knee.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t drink my milk,” he replied with an even sweeter smile.

“It wasn’t me,” you repeated.

“Of course, it wasn’t. I was silly to even question you.” He cupped your cheek and caressed your skin softly with his thumb. “I think you deserve a reward for helping me.”

He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing yours. “Is this a suitable reward?” he whispered. Your breath hitched as he covered your mouth with his in a kiss. Running his fingers through your hair, he held you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue probing your lips. With a soft sigh, your lips parted, inviting his tongue to sweep your mouth.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, his hand cradling your head. His eyes met yours and he smiled.

“I knew it was you the whole time,” he admitted quietly.

“What? How?”

“I had my suspicions, but you should know better than to lie to a fox.” Your face fell; he saw through your earlier lie. “That and…” He brought his mouth to yours and nipped your lip. “I could taste the strawberry milk.”

“That was evil.” You grabbed a nearby pillow and hit him on the shoulder with it. Gently. 

“It's what you deserve for drinking my milk,” he said, laughing. Grabbing a pillow of his own, he swatted you back. Not so gently. 

Peals of laughter filled the room as you took turns hitting each other with the pillows. That is, until Harrison grabbed your pillow and tossed it to the side, leaving you defenseless. He pressed his body against yours, his lips dangerously close to yours. Your eyes drifted shut as your lips moved closer to his, eager for his kiss. 

His hand ran down your ribs, his fingers brushing against your most ticklish spot. Your eyes flew open. 

“You wouldn’t,” you hissed.

“Well, I am a villain,” he said with a wicked laugh.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival   @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee     @kookie-my-little-sunshine @pathogenic       @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer   @nightghoul381 @judejazza @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings @starlitmanor-network