#sorry for the late reply! been all over the place lately

[bindeds]

𐔌  ✦₊  PRINCESS TREATMENT  𝜗𝜚 . WRIOTHESLEY  𑁤

⭑ — the duke shows you unending generosity when you visit your inmate father often and long past visiting hours due to your long shifts at work. Your father blows up at you again and wriothesley is more worried than he should be. As he walks you back to the surface, you find out why. 

wc. 8.5k cw.   nsfw 18+ , fem reader ,  hints of reader having a toxic family , reader’s father doesn’t trust wrio , reader probably has daddy issues , pent up wrio , soft wrio , fwb , wrio being courteous as hell , nicknames used: good girl, princess

៳ note.   I haven’t played genshin in years so I’m probably going to get something wrong despite my research (wasn’t sure if transport in fontaine was 24/7 and if submarines/boats are used often or easily accessible), apologies in advance. And also, I think this is a very specific flavor of wrio I have barely seen others write so I hope you enjoy anyhow. I actually have more headcanons abt this fic so if you want a part 2 lmk! :D oh shit I’ve been working on this for a week straight too and I didn’t proofread it so AGH sorry for many mistakes! (p.s. I take requests too!) here’s the ao3 link if you prefer to read on there <3

“Agh, forget it. You know what? Since you’re always coming back here, you ought to know one thing; that duke? He’s bad news.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Your grip on the phone against your ear tightened.

You frowned at your father from across the clear plastic between you both, refusing to look at him properly as you lowered your head. 

You sighed, shutting your eyes for a moment. “What’s wrong with the duke?”

“He’s corrupt, I’m telling you. He favors some prisoners over others. Everyone will tell you he’s just but he’s not!” Your father hissed, the microphone dulling the low noises he made. 

“Dad. Why are we even—” you sighed again, this time pressing your fingers on your temples, and part of you thinks maybe this was your subconscious shielding you from him since you refused to leave yourself. “First of all, I am always here way past visiting hours. Who do you think allows that?”

Your father grumbled something under his breath, probably a curse—but it was hard for you to care.

“Second of all, we’re always dodging the topic. Why don’t you ever want to talk about our fam—”

“I’ve told you a million times!”

You flinched away from the metal desk, your father practically baring his teeth at you with wild eyes that seemed to set his complexion on fire.

“Alright, that’s enough,” a guard from behind him chimed in, clutching your father firmly by the elbows and upper arms. He scowled at you before turning back to where the guard was leading him.

When your name was called you nearly jumped out of your seat, both your hands clutching the thick-wired telephone to your chest.

“Hey, you okay?” 

The Duke gave you a once over and returned to your eyes. His brows furrowed, and for a moment, looking into his eyes felt too revealing.

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied as you returned the phone to its hook and curtly stood up. 

“Don’t apologize.”

You gave him a puzzled look, but he wasn’t looking as he escorted you down the halls and towards the lifts. “No, I insist. I keep staying past the visiting hours despite knowing them well—”

“Yes, and, you work for over twelve hours nearly everyday. I don’t think I want you getting up at four in the morning just to be able to visit either.”

The duke clenched his jaw just then. Your hands grew clammy. Other than his legs, he barely moved at all. His muscles were ice and his veins were held in place with coats of steel. 

You remembered you had told him the reason for your late night visits early on, but his response stunned you to the point of being unable to get your thoughts right. He had thought about your situation much more than you thought he would. Though, come to think of it, the visits after you told him this, he’s always by the entrance of the visiting room just to give you a small nod of permittance. A nod you came to appreciate, and eventually miss when he stopped coming by. 

“Why did you stop by today?”

He looked at you this time, silent for a moment. The lift doors dinged open, and he gestured for you to enter before him. 

“Your father has been … irritable these past few days—”

“Oh, shit I am so sorry for him—”

“Hey, don’t apologize for your old man’s behavior. You’re the last person who should be apologizing.”

There it is again. That … look he has on you. The gaze he put on you weighed heavier than you could carry. Though, you couldn’t understand what about it made your knees melt. You nodded slowly. When you swallowed, your heartbeat reverberated in your ears. 

Even if he was tense, your demeanor would make things worse. You knew you were making a bigger deal out of this than you should have been; you hadn’t entirely dodged the topic of the duke of Meropide purely for family’s sake. The duke … was difficult. Though, not that he was causing you any sort of trouble. Evidently, it was quite the opposite.

“Anyway, I have my men observe him closely whenever you visit. Got the memo that he was already starting to blow a fuse a few minutes before he yelled at you.”

The lift arrived at the entrance floor and you exited rigidly, your mind unable to juggle basic motor control and the bewilderment of the situation.

He continued to walk you through to the exit of the fortress.

“Thank you, Your Grace. But I hate to have troubled you.”

“I’m the one who should be worried about troubling you,” he corrected. “Your father doesn’t come close to the worst convicts here. And yet, he’s one of the most difficult to manage. Prisoners who have committed the most heinous crimes are more amiable with me than your father has been, and he’s been here longer than some of said prisoners. Now, you visit him twice or even thrice a week, I don’t want him to cause trouble for you too. Especially with how often you visit? He should be—”

He clenched his jaw again, much more conscientiously this time, turning away for a second. 

“ … What?” You walked slightly in front of him as you tried to catch his expression. 

“No, that was … way out of line.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder—though, with how careful you were, it was really just your fingertips.

“Please, I want to hear it,” you said, almost in a mutter. “I know my dad is an asshole.”

The duke gave you a soft smile that seemed to muddle the edges of his pond blue irises. This was a gaze you were unfamiliar with, across all the kinds he’s given you, you knew, just from the shift in the air alone—this was somehow different.

“He’s lucky to have a daughter who visits him despite … well,” the duke chuffed ruefully. “Himself.”

You parted your lips to say something.

“But besides that—I got word he was talking about me again, and he gets worked up whenever I’m brought up so I rushed over. In any case, it’s late. Later than usual; I’m trying to see if I can get you home safe.”

With all the things he’d just said swimming in your mind, it was hard to think about rest or even getting home. It was a long travel, and having someone else worry—the Duke of Meropide, no less—was unbecoming.

He clenched his jaw again and for some reason, you hooked onto that to start. 

You held him back by the arm, stopping in the middle of a room. “Your Grace … listen, I just—I see that you’re tense and it’s embarrassing that I’ve made you worry about me to this degree. I can handle the commute home. Again, I’m sorry to be such a bother for the fortress and—”

“Please, you’re not … you’re not a bother.”

“Then … what am I?” 

“ … I’m sorry?”

“You had your guards update you on what goes on with my father when I visit. You’re always giving me extra time and now you’re helping me with transport. I mean, you even …”

He cocked a brow. Wriothesley’s shoe clicked loudly against the floor as he took a step closer.

“Go on.” He tilted his head ever so slightly, his hair falling over his face at an angle that seemed to accentuate his jaw. 

Shit.

This was all a mistake. Surely. 

But for some reason, mustering the words to apologize tied knots in your stomach.

“Maybe you were just being nice,” you murmured. He was so close now, and you had to crane your neck just to look at him, which didn’t last long at all. “I’m sorry Your Grace, I didn’t mean to—”

“No no, no need for that now,” he interjected in a tranquil tone. “I want to know what you mean.”

Your heart could crack your ribs open for how hard it shook against its bars. 

The Duke was difficult, absolutely—but not in the way he treated you. 

He was difficult because he seemed to display a certain kind of softness unexercised with anyone else. 

Something you now realized you clung onto for ammunition to your wild desires.

“No, I’m afraid I am the one who’s out of line this time, Your Grace. I was going to imply something completely absurd.”

“Are you put off by it?” 

You shook your head, almost like a knee jerk reaction.

“Definitely not. You’ve been nothing but kind towards me,” you insisted without hesitance.

“Okay. Then what’s on your mind?”

The silence of the fortress laid heavy on the floor, quickly rising up to your chest. The dust whispered of the gaps between your unspoken words. Both of you might have known just what hung in the air between you but without your explicit validation, external factors could easily be to blame for tension that spanned two or more months. You both were busy, working adults. And you both were mature, of course. Tension is and can realistically be caused by work stress. However …

With the way he had never once broken eye contact with you, always hanging by the cusp of your response, your approval … it gets to your skin.

“I could be imagining things …”

“You’re not,” Wriothesley chimed in. “I want to hear it.”

Your name left his lips like a breath of cold air in winter. Sentence after sentence, word after word—it was all but one start after the other. You tried to recall the last time he said your name, but you came up with one moment only; the day you first visited the fortress of Meropide.

“I can’t help but think you’ve taken a liking to me,” you confessed quickly. “Which, of course I am more than thankful for.”

“‘Taken a liking’ … that’s one way to phrase it,” the duke scratched the side of his neck with the opposite hand, angling his jaw away for better access. A small grin rose to his lips. “I would like to think I’d use more … direct vocabulary but I understand this is a delicate situation.”

You clutched onto the sides of your pants, wiping the sweat off your palms.

He noticed, however, his eyes following the movement of your hands then giving you a discerning look. 

His adam’s apple bobbed slowly before he spoke up. 

“If things were simple, I would have you tell me yourself what exactly it is that you want. But sadly, they’re not, and that’s mostly to do with me so I apologize,” Wriothesley began rigidly. “You were right about me being tense. But it’s not about … you.”

Silence drifted at the tail of his sentence as you waited for him to say more.

“Okay …”

“Well, actually … it is, but it’s not because of anything bad you’ve done. It’s …” 

When he struggled to choke up the words, he cleared his throat and tried again. 

“Can I be frank with you?” He asked with a lowered head. “The truth is rather indecent, but you deserve it regardless. Nothing has to change between us, you have my word.”

You nodded eagerly.

“Good.

 “You’ve been visiting very often within the last few months and every time I come down to see you I … don’t know how exactly to put this. I see moments when you’re trying to reason with your father who’s just—excuse my impertinence—beyond talking to, and the patience you have, the ability to be gentle in moments where he threatens you, to still care for him like that, it’s … it’s … too much for me. The reason I allowed you to stay here so late was because you’re the only outsider who came here and didn’t act like they owned the place. Besides the fact that you already know I allow you past visiting hours, this was another reason I stopped coming down to supervise. It was bad for me to think about you like that. I rarely come up to the surface as is, and even when I do, it’s usually still for matters regarding work. I know I don’t have any time for any relationships beyond friends and, well, I haven’t had much time to … let off steam either.”

Your heart was just about ready to splatter itself all over the walls of Meropide at this moment, rattling violently in your chest you could barely hold yourself up, even if you were only standing.

This was a fever dream, surely. 

You parted your lips again but he stopped you before you could speak.

“Please, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t want to involve someone I barely know with my petty inconveniences. And I don’t mean to imply that I only ever think of you crudely, I just—”

“Stop. Don’t say anything else.”

“No I must insist—”

You caught his lips chastely, tiptoeing as you pulled him in by his tie. 

His hands wrapped around your waist almost as quickly as you had taken him, slightly pushing against you to roughen the kiss.

You nearly chased his lips when he pulled away eventually. His eyes were lost in the haze of what had just happened but he blinked a few times and refocused himself on you.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, and the words left him lazily like they were dangling off of your kiss.

“Yes. I’m fucking tired—of life, of my dad, my family, my job, and I have thought about you a lot more than I’d like to admit. And I know we barely know each other, but fuck you’ve been so so fucking nice an-and you’re so fucking hot with your handcuffs, your tie, your vest, your everything. Oh, archons and the fucking—worrying about my commute home was my last straw. I can barely breathe around you. Please,” you confessed listlessly, your head spinning as you held him tighter. This caused him to tighten his grip around you, too.

Wriothesley grinned. “While I enjoy it, you don’t have to beg. Not for this.”

He drew the smallest circles on the small of your back, and there was something else he wanted to say. But judging from his averted gaze, it wasn’t easy. Though, to be fair—none of what was just exchanged was easy either. Your heartbeat still reverberated throughout your whole body, still wavering at the fact that you had literally just initiated a kiss with the Duke of Meropide.

“I need to warn you, I mean all of what I said. I can’t give you the relationship you deserve—any guy would be lucky to have you, but that comes with the responsibility of treating you right, and I can’t give you all of my undivided attention for where I am in life right now. But what I can do my best on is, well …” he cocked his head to the side. 

“Giving you the best fucking night of your life.”

That was all you needed to hear. 

“Where’s your office?”

“My office? Don’t you want to head home to …?”

“I need you so bad, Your Grace. I don’t know if I can wait until we get to my place.” You clung onto him like a lifeline, it was almost embarrassing—except, for every muscle flexed to have him closer, he reeled you in even more. 

Wriothesley huffed, giving you a small smile and that stupid gaze you couldn’t help but see every time you blink or close your eyes.

“You don’t know what you do to me when you say that.”

. . .

It took distraction, much distraction on the smallest of sounds, the faintest of smells just to keep your hands off of the duke as you both were back in the elevator, side by side. You would have laughed at the larger physical distance between you if you had seen this from third person, but the lift was charged with a silence that both of you felt was impenetrable and the sweat from your palms was being washed away by a cold breeze. 

It almost suffocated you to have waited this long—even if it had only been a minute or two. And you had already taken off your shoes by the time you arrived at the top of the stairs to his office. You thought you would tackle him then and there, but alas, the urge to be the civilized being you were taught to be reined just one point higher than your urge to take him all at once. After all, wouldn’t it be that much more enticing to see how exactly he wants to have you?

He caught you almost immediately by the lips, just as you had previously with him, this time his large hands almost cradling the back of your head as your hair fell between the gaps of his fingers. 

His other hand was busy taking your hips flush against his, and holy shit, there was a bulge larger than you anticipated pressing against you. You lost yourself in the warmth his kiss brought you anyway, fingertips feeling the smooth texture of his vest and the cold metal of his chain.

A tight grip on your waist caused you to yelp and suddenly, Wriothesley carried you by the ass and placed you down on the edge of his desk. His arms cornered you around him, and you continued to kiss him again—though this time, he lightly nipped at your bottom lip for permission which you gladly granted. 

Your arms floated then landed like petals on a pond upon his shoulders, hands like paper around his neck.

Much like him, his tongue was eager; while his hands crept up your shoulder blades only to begin its slow trek down, his tongue touched every surface you allowed in your mouth, brushing your tongue against his. 

Fuck, at this angle your legs were wide open and wrapped loosely around him while his tent pressed intimately against you. 

You hummed, trying to suppress the soft noise that burned from the depths of your lungs, fueled by months of illicit fantasies that dripped into your disposition towards him—and finally, it seems, his dam broke with the help of your nudging. 

It began to pulsate against him, but you didn’t think he could tell from how he seemed to need you tangled in his arms this instant, how each inhale he took was only luring him deeper into the promise he had made to you for tonight.

You angled your jaw away when he bit your neck and sucked and kissed the pillowy ache away. You whined as he had done so, lightly kicking the back of his leg with your heel.

“Oh, come now princess. Don’t tell me you’re impatient now when you’ve waited months for this,” he rasped against your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your arms. 

“I told you I need you. I need you so fucking bad, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley held you tightly in his arms as he grinded in one, slow stroke against the gap between your legs which made him groan, and you held back your own noise.

“Don’t tempt me, please don’t tempt me. I wanna treat you well, take you softly—but you’re making it impossible not to fuck you right now without restraint whatsoever,” he hissed between kisses down your jaw. 

“But …” you whimpered. You couldn’t muster the strength to finish your sentence as you had already melted in his firm arms long ago.

He’s right; he was undeniably pent up, hands arm chest and arms shaking and twitching every now and then with what seemed to be the urge to just have you as he mentioned. But even after all his kindness, all his patience—he still had more to give, unwilling to crumple you for his pleasure. 

“But?” 

He fiddled with the button of your pants with one hand, and just like that it was undone. 

The zipping sound cut through your thoughts and the breeze blew past your exposed skin. 

His eyes, heavy and brimming with intent concealed from you, locked with your own as he lowered himself painstakingly before you. His fingers barely brushed your skin when he peeled your clothes off your legs, sinking lower and lower. His actions hypnotized you on him, on the lines of his clothes, his curves—the way he looked up at you as the dim light of his office glistened by the edges of his shadows. 

All this time spent having to look up at him had caused this moment to flutter within both your lungs and mind. The many looks he’d given you, one after the other, each of different unnamable qualities that always left you unable to think of the decent thing to say. But this? 

He looked at you not only as if you were something to be worshiped; he gazed upon you as if he’d known you all his life, and now has rediscovered you, getting the opportunity to refine his memory of how the light traversed your features as he bathed in the grace of your eyes.

“You’re even more enchanting from down here.”

His wide-eyed stare seemed to have caught the tip of this tongue as he cleared his throat.

“You can call me Wriothesley,” he concluded with a rough exhale and a nod. “If you’d like.”

He sustained his gaze on you, waiting for a response. 

“Yes, I would like that very much,” you said. “Amongst calling you other things, too.”

“Yeah?” He smiled, and it was the kind of smile you could hear in someone’s tone; when they speak, you don’t have to look to know they have a smile that completes their tender expression. 

“Mhmm.”

“Like what?” He had you boxed in with his ropy arms rooted on either side of you. He blocked out the light from your view, bronze shadows rose like thin sheets on both of you. 

“Please me and maybe you’ll find out,” you chuckled and played with his tie between your fingers. 

He let out a weakened huff as he lowered his head. He looked up at you at that angle then shook his head. 

“To think I have learned of proper self restraint,” Wriothesley muttered. “This is self restraint. You test me in ways that have me failing before I even get to touch you.”

He pressed his middle finger between your clothed folds before you could quip back, causing you to gasp and cling onto him for support. He brought himself closer to you and snickered wryly. 

“Cute. Impressive, even. Now, what if I …”

His hand slipped into your underwear and his finger rubbed more intimately against your slit. It was almost completely submerged between your folds. 

You let out a hint of a moan, and with him hunched over you as you hugged him, you were right by his ear. Your mouth hung open but you still had control over the sounds rising in your throat, and you would let none of them pass over your tongue.

With his entire finger between your folds, his shoulder moved with each swipe that only grew vigorous by the second. 

“C’mon …” he said in a low voice. “You gotta give me something, princess. Now I know you like what I’m doing. You’re shaking so much I’m scared you’ll break.”

Something you haven’t even noticed—but it made you bunch his clothing in your fist. 

This time, he rubbed circles into that nub, his other fingers resting over your folds but pressing anxiously every now and then. You bit your lip, even squeaking once or twice at how he sparked your nerves alive between your legs.  

“No dice?” He asked again. He exhaled audibly through his nose. “Alright.”

He draped his arm around to the opposite shoulder, laying your back delicately on his desk. With your hair splayed out, a halo formed with the ring of light waxed around your head. 

His middle finger slipped into your cunt and you whimpered as a crease formed in your brow and you tightened around him—both your entrance and your arms.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he praised too sweetly for a rust-wrought voice. “Mm, you’re spilling for me. Why, I’m honored.”

“Sh-shut up,” you gritted out of embarrassment.

He littered kisses along your neck, deciding that lying like this with you was more warm than any stance with better access, because he kept his arm around you even when you assumed it to be cumbersome. 

“Do you really want me to?”

He curled his finger into that sopping, textured wall that made you cry out.

You shook your head.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Fuck—why-ngh!—why do you c-call me that?” You barely managed the sentence out.

“Let’s see,” he grunted, beginning to pump his finger in and out of you, the cold silver of his glove hitting you in time with the noises you made. “Staying far past Meropide’s visiting hours, monitoring your fathers’ behavior days before, during and after your visits which means all the time just to make sure he at least treats you with the bare minimum of respect any decent human being deserves, escorting you to and from the entrance every time you visit and supervising the visiting room but really only having my eyes on you—of course, I say this all to express my pleasure to serve you. Be reminded of just how gorgeous you are every time you walk down these halls.”

“Your Grace!” You squealed, feeling something coil in your stomach. 

He must’ve felt you squeeze around his finger because he chuckled.

“‘More’, you say? Gladly.”

His ring finger plunged into you, and it gave so easily with how much you gushed from your entrance. Your cry climbed higher in pitch as he curled both his fingers repeatedly, watching you squirm and squeeze beneath him. 

“You okay?” He asked, and he had asked the same way—if not a little breathier—than he had when he saw you in the visiting room that night. 

“Yes,” you exhaled. His face was only an inch or two away from yours. 

“Tell me if it hurts or if you want to stop, yeah?” 

You nodded.

“I’m just trying to warm you up to it. Believe me, I’d put it in right now if I knew it wouldn’t hurt you.”

You reached up to cup his cheeks. They’re softer than you imagined they’d ever be for the Duke of a renowned prison who barely goes outside.

“What are you … are you saying th—”

“Don’t worry about that now. I’ll take care of you.”

His pumping resumed in and out of you, his strokes spanning longer this time with his fingers almost completely exiting you this time around. You threw your head back, unable to bear looking him directly in the eye with how you were already being driven off a wet cliff to incoherence, and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

With how much he seeked a full view of your complexion without directly asking, there was no way he didn’t know he was rubbing against that spongey wall with every languid yet firm stroke into you. 

“Oh, we can’t forget this, can we?”

He pressed his thumb on your clit, keeping a steady pace that matched the fingers thrusting in and out of you. 

Your legs jolted in a shock of a new layer of pleasure, both your cunt and nub retracting to the stimulation his fingers treated you to.

Your muscles staggered, a growing ache making them give out and drop dead.

With his fingers still stretching you out overtime, he lifted your leg by the back of your knee.

Feeling him do that, his clothes running past your chilled skin, his grip a silent plea to have you wrapped around him accompanied by a softer kiss by your ear—your stomach coiled and flexed without much control and your cunt throbbed.

“Rest your legs on my back for me,” he grunted, his fingers stretching the boundaries of your walls faster as that silver hitting your entrance would start to bruise. You did as you were told, crying out all the same and in messy succession. He kissed your temple. “Good girl.”

His fingers juddered in and out of you making you shake to its command.

“Y-Your Grace—gonna—please—”

“Sh, sh sh—you’ve been so good for me. You deserve this and so much more,” Wriothesley praised airily. “Come on. Let go.”

He had nearly rearranged your insides from his fingers alone, and upon his command, you came all over him, pouring and pouring—even as he was slowing down, you kept coming.

He kissed you again without warning, this time his tongue making sloppy brushes against your own. He tilted his head to have more of you, your arms weak yet slithering around his shoulders.

His fingers left you, and even then it seemed your cunt was still trying to push your juices out. 

When he pulled away, he licked up what was left of you on his fingers and wiped away the access that stained his gloves.

“Shit, I’m sorry about your gloves.”

He peeled the tip of the black dressing wrapped around his wrist area. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll just clean them when—”

“Don’t take them off.”

You placed a hand over your mouth the instant those words left you, eyes widened and breath hitched. Even he had snapped in your direction.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He cocked a brow at you as he reworked the dressing on his gloves. 

“As you wish, princess.”

Fucking hell, you think you just came again just from the petname alone.

As he had just begun to walk around to the other side of his desk, you sat up swiftly with pain writhing all over—mainly on your stomach and thighs. 

“Are you sore?” He reeled back towards you.

“A little. Not like I wasn’t going to be,” you jested. The duke snickered with you. 

“Naturally,” he smiled, and again you could hear it as he exhaled sharply. Smiles like that were always the ones that thrum against the strings in your chest. 

“Okay, so … how do you want to do this?” 

“Hm?”

Wriothesley strolled around to his chair and sat. 

“You could sit on my lap, but I’m not sure how comfortable you’d be,” he suggested. “Or you could sit there too, but that can’t be comfortable either.”

You got off from his desk and walked around it to join him. You turned around so that your back faced him and you sat snugly.

“Your lap is plenty comfortable,” you concluded with your hands on your knees and your thighs pressed together.

Wriothesley chuckled lowly, and your breath hitched when his hands slithered to your waist and kept sliding steadily.

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

By this time, he had pulled you closer, thick forearms wrapped around your torso as your boobs sat on top. He had buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathy kisses left in a meticulous trail.

The longer this whole thing went on, this little … agreement between you and wriothesley—the less this seemed to be letting off steam and a little more of making up for years of disregarded passion. 

But you were far from complaining. In fact if you could have it your way … oh, you’d send the duke running out the door.

“I want you,” he murmured into your skin as if you could hear through it. “I want to see your face when you sit on it.”

Speak of the devil. 

“Oh?” You muttered. Your fingers fell between the gaps of his own, and his knuckles poked your palms. “You want to see me come undone on your cock, hm?”

“Yes, yes absolutely,” he breathed heavily against you and your shoulders tensed at the chills crossing your spine. “I want—no, need to ease you into it.”

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

“Uh huh. I’ve never doubted that,” he replied instantly. “But you’re not the only one.”

You grinded against him just as he said that, your ass pressing into his bulge and his lower stomach as he hunched over and groaned.

He bit into your shoulder then, and you moaned again before chuckling.

“Stand up,” he commanded for what you recalled to be the first time that night, and after all his service, who were you to deny him?

His belt had come undone and his fingers worked the zippers of his pants. You moved them away to handle it yourself. 

You teased him, though, the zipping sound buzzing through the air as you took your time over each metal tooth in the zipper. He didn’t say a word of it, even if he gripped the armrests so hard you could hear the friction. When his zipper was all the way down he shifted so you could peel his underwear back. 

Oh, fuck.

You couldn’t even estimate the length because you hadn’t quite processed the girth.

You immediately rose to your feet at the sight.

He looked up at you expectantly. Goddamn, his eyes were crystals in this light. Indecisive ones that didn’t know what to think, yet held hope, adoration and possibly something more in the large pool of light it nurses.

“Your Grace, it’s …”

He reached out for you again, and for a second there was absolutely no way the hands that fell on your waist were the very same ones that have spilled the blood of others. Not when he held you like his touch would scorch you.

“You can take it. I’ll help you.” 

He held the hem of your shirt but your hand grappled his wrist. 

“Can I … leave it on?” You asked gingerly. “I’ll remove my bra. You can touch them underneath. I just …”

“Of course.”

He let go of your shirt. You both gave each other looks you couldn’t recognize before you reached behind tk unclasp your bra.

“May I?” He spoke up after a few seconds of you fumbling with it.

You froze. 

You could just be seeing things that weren’t there, but in this moment, his gaze was … wistful, yet sanguine. A white glow poured into his irises that surely wasn’t from his office’s bad lighting.

You gave him a warm smile and lowered your head. “Sure.”

You turned around, and he prompted you to sit on his knee as his fingertip climbed your back and your bra fell to the floor within the next three seconds.

When you stood up again, his fingers brushed your inner thigh and lingered as if he wanted to draw something there, stirring up chills on your leg before two of his fingers disappeared into you again. 

You cried out as your hands clutched the edges of his chair for support. His other hand squeezed firm on your hip. 

He thrusted a few times before going, “tell me if this hurts.”

And he slipped a third finger into you. 

“Your Grace!” You cried. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt? Should I pull out?”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “Please.”

“Please what?”

If you went on any longer like this, your legs would give out and drool would cover your chin.

“I want you.”

“You have me.” His grip squeezed tighter on your hip as his eyes narrowed on you.

“No, you.”

He caught how your eyes shifted to his erection. 

He looked back at you and nodded. When he pulled his fingers out, you would have fallen on your knees had his hands not been there to support you.

You quickly cross one leg to his other side and luckily, his chair was spacious enough for your calves to rest on either side of his thighs. You on him with his erection on your stomach. 

Seeing its length against your body …

Both of you stared at it for a second, measurements filling your heads as your thoughts ran free about how exactly this was going to go. How noisy you’d be. How noisy he’d be. 

His silken tip was a pulsing red, blending into his pale skin color as a few veins branched up from the base

“You’re … fuck …” you whispered. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked as if you both weren’t looking at the same thing between you two.

“Yeah. It’s just—intimidating, is all.” Your playful tone fell flat with the heated air you both exhaled moments ago. “But fuck, I’ll never forgive myself if you don’t make a fucking mess of me.”

“Good, because I really don’t know how much more I can take,” he added fervently. His hands wandered over your hips and dipped into your waist, careful not to squeeze in any capacity. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

That was all the encouragement you needed as you shifted closer on your knees. He held you tightly on the hips which each move you made, one hand moving to align him to your entrance. 

“Don’t rush, okay? I’ll do my best not to move until you tell me to.”

You grinned. “Stop being so nice. It just makes me wanna swallow you whole.”

You lowered yourself on him and both of you moaned out, his sounding almost like a growl. The pain clawed at the walls as you were being pried in two.

“Fuck,” he cursed sharply. If he had longer nails, they would have maimed you by now. 

And that was just the tip.

“Think you can swallow me whole still?” He quipped with his hands still holding your hips up. 

“I’m tougher than you think,” you couldn’t help but remark as you sank deeper in—his entire body steeled and another strained groan escaped him. 

The pain took its place in the backseat in this moment, his delectable reactions causing the butterflies in your stomach to jolt awake. That was something you hadn’t felt in a while; it would steer you to a higher state of mind you couldn’t recall ever being in.

It only took a few more minutes before you had indeed swallowed him whole, his tip pressing against your cervix as you shifted to get comfortable.

His hands slithered around your waist once more only to tighten against him, your torso flush against his as his eyes wandered you. Even if you still had top on, it seemed as though he was getting lost in the folds of the fabric, frequently coming back to the swell of your breasts.

“Hey.” You placed a hand on one of his bulky arms tightly slung around you.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” You tilted your head. 

There was something in the way he was holding you, a warmth that rose like steam that caressed your skin—but you weren’t sure this was that kind of scene. You wanted to say it felt out of place but somehow you only felt yourself dripping wetter at the thought of it. 

He swallowed. “Yeah. I’m more than okay, I mean—fuck just—can’t believe my dick is in you right now. You feel so good. This feels good. I can’t even begin to explain how many times this very scene has played in my head in the most inconvenient times.”

He laughed softly, and you laughed with him. 

“How many times I dreamed of fucking you like this. Having you all to myself. Thinking I’d make sure I am the best you’ll ever have.”

He pressed his nose into your clothes as it reached your sternum, his face sitting comfortably between your breasts.

“You smell like … black tea.” His comment was muffled as his eyes were closed.

“Well yeah, that’s because you always give me some when the visiting rooms get busy or if it’s raining outside,” you replied with a lighter chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. How can something be so rough and soft at the same time?

What, exactly, you were referring to when that thought flitted right by you—you didn’t care to reaccess. 

“Wriothesley?”

“Hm?”

“Please fuck me,” you said, lace and pink bow ties intertwined in your words.

“You’re ready?”

“Mhmm.”

His arms unraveled from you, and it seemed like his grip had worked knots on its own; ages passed before his hands rejoined either side of your waist. He was reluctant to part from you, even in the slightest degree as he was no longer pressed into you. 

“Be good for me, yeah?”

And with that, he lifted you up and down on him with ease. He started out at a reasonable pace, though it was one faster than you expected. Your moans spun the room once more, each at their highest when his tip hits your cervix. Pain slipped out and away with each sodden thrust in you.

One hand covered your mouth and the other rested on his shoulder—and even as he rubbed hot, liquid pleasure into you, you caught the precise moment he realized what you’d done.

“Agh—please princess. Haven’t I earned this? What else will it take for me to hear your precious voice, hm?” He hummed, pleasured groans weaving through his strained words. 

“That—mm fuck!—damned nickname again,” you cursed under your breath, causing the duke to smile. 

He slowed his pace to a near stop. “What can I say?” 

Then he pounded so hard into you, the wet slap along with your scream echoing in the safe confines office.

“You make me want to pamper you.”

He clenched his jaw as he continued to fuck you at the same pace, though this time each thrust left a sting on your ass. 

You felt as though your nerves swam and writhed in each layer of flesh beneath your skin, pleasure following the way sound follows shortly after light. The butterflies panicked in your stomach, almost tickling you with the shrouded embarrassment of the duke of Meropide seeing you this way—how you could barely keep your lips together as your jaw lost its zeal a long time ago.

“Mmm c’mon,” he encouraged as your name left his lips again as an exhalation of sampled affection. “If I don’t get to hear you, I’m going to do something I’m not sure you’ll like.”

His thrusts picked up its pace slightly, as if to try and get the noises bubbling in throat to spill. You stayed resilient, however, even shaking your head as you offered a choked whimper instead.

“Alright then.”

His grip on your hand was gentle as he moved it to his shoulder, his fingers brushing your arm as he stopped moving altogether.

You whined irritably, and of course the duke laughed it off with that low and sadly attractive voice of his. Your gut dropped at the very sound of it.

“I told you I’d do something you wouldn’t like,” he reminded, and he sounded perfectly fine, as if he didn’t have his cock buried deep in you and twitching from the lack of friction. His hand was warm and soothing over your own, the other sliding up your waist. 

“Ride me.”

“What?”

“Please, ride me,” he repeated. 

You didn’t follow his request immediately as you knew what it would entail; your entire face, fucked out and reacting to every thrust you made down on him. You couldn’t muster a reply so instead you buried your face in his neck, pressing shallow kisses on his scars.

He laughed again. “Come now, princess. I asked nicely, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t the first time,” you pouted without meaning to.

It was almost like a knee-jerk reaction when his fingers ran through your hair, kissing your head as he cooed. It felt as though his fingers left a trail of butterflies where it combed, and the nectar of his kiss seeped straight to your mind. 

“I’m sorry. I know I didn’t. But I needed to see your face,” he said. His fingers still laid in the strands of your hair. “How shall I make up for it?”

“Beg.”

And so he nodded. 

“Please,” he stressed, your name placed on the throne of his saccharine plea. “Please, ride me. I need you so, so bad—I promise I won’t be mean again. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

You heard him loud and clear the first time, but part of you needed to hear him say it again. A confirmation of what it would mean if he asked this of you—what exactly it is he wanted.

And so you lifted your hips off him slowly, and even in that little bit of movement pleasure ran down his every inch where your cunt hugged. He made soft noises, ones you would keep like small souvenirs in a jar as he shut his eyes for a moment.

Then you dropped down on him, moans shared between the both of you as yours reigned louder.

"I love hearing you moan, fuck," he cursed.

You repeated what you'd done, this time getting faster as the feeling of him filling you grew as addicting as it was pleasurable. Seeing him restrain his sounds and bite his lip was more than a reward for doing as he asked. You wanted him all the way in, even if it bruised your cervix—and his chivalry had only impassioned the carnal thoughts spinning in your mind, chained to the wall as you couldn't have done anything about it without seeming downright sick. 

That is, until now.

Oh, to think he'd been pent up before this, and now you're the only one who can bring him brain-hazing pleasure in this moment. Your fingers clawed at his clothes, legs cramping but the hot pleasure burned brighter in you than anything else. 

"I want to fuck you," he moaned. "I want to see you, hear you, make you feel good—please let me fuck you over the table—ngh—please.”

"How bad?" You panted as you refused to stop.

"What?" He perked up.

"How bad do you want me?"

He wasted no time in wrapping himself around you again, sweat on sweat as he laid you back on his desk, careful not to let your head fall. 

"I hope this answers your question," he whispered in your ear before he backed away to gaze at you again. He had naturally pulled out a little from the movement, but he didn't mind—he wrapped your lips in a heated kiss once more, his tongue a little more gentle this time as he pushes in and you gasped in his mouth. 

More wet slaps ensued as his thrusts grew needy. He drew out slowly only to jerk back in and nearly choke your body in bursts of pleasure, your nerves tingling again as those coils reformed in your gut. They were going to give out. It was approaching sloppily and even your mouth went limp when you tried to pull away. 

You tapped his jaw, and he pulled away instead, with the fog in his half-lidded eyes you could hardly say it was any easier for him than it was for you.

"I'm c-close.”

"Me too," he panted as he straightened his back, hands finding purchase back on your waist. “You’re so pretty like this.” 

Your tailbone had already begun to ache, remnants of your body ache plaguing the rest of you.

His finger wounded up back beneath your folds, and dancing with your clit as you screamed again. Shit, it was approaching before you could catch up to it. Your hands flew to his wrist out of instinct and your knuckles turned white in an instant, but your grip was wind to him.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you erupted, quickly falling off that cliff as you clenched around him and caused him to moan. 

“Fuck! I’m coming!”

He pounded quicker into you, your waist bruised in his grip as your ass stinged a bright red—he pulled out just in time for his cum to spill on the desk and floors. 

Your body went limp. Your clit still pulsed, and both you and the duke panted for a few moments. 

It took a while before the daze of the orgasm cleared, and some of your thoughts had come back coherent to you again.

The first one that took you by the throat was that you had just had sex with the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, the warden of a highly-regarded prison, a man known to be intimidating and a force you should never cross. 

“Hey, hey hey—you okay?” 

Wriothesley rushed to your side when you sat up and winced. His hold on your arm would have hurt if it wasn’t out of concern and the failed attempt to support you on time.

“Yeah, just cramping. I’ll be fine.” You dropped onto the floor, whipping around to find your pants. He didn’t let go of your forearm nor let his eyes leave your face—you didn’t fight it.

“I was thinking of offering to let you rest, but I realize you start work early tomorrow,” he said as he cleaned himself off, then fixed the belt and fasteners on his pants. “I’ll send you home.”

You turned back to him. “What?”

“I’ll see if I can get us private transport so it’s quicker.”

Your other hand fell over his arm. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

“I was the one who brought you back here, so I’ll get you back safely.”

“And if I invited you over?” You raised a brow at him.

He paused for a few seconds as shock reached his gaze. His eyes examined each of your own as if to wonder just how serious you were. 

“I’d go back to the Fortress on my own.” Wriothesley cleared his throat when he handed you your pants. 

“That’s hardly fair,” you scoffed as you rested your sore ass against his desk to put on your clothes. 

“I have never said this about ‘fair’ before, but I think I’m okay with that,” he grinned. You frowned.

“Wriothesley.”

He said your name back to you in a laugh.

“You don’t have to do … all this for me. You’re a very busy man.”

“Indeed, so I’d better hurry and make sure you get home safe and quick.” He tucked some of your hair behind your ear, and for a moment his eyes seemed to draw your features, the way light met your eyes or how your lips crumpled in a certain way when you were in thought or observing something intently.

Just like you had been now, with him. 

You gave up at his persistence, simply shaking your head and then gathering your things before leaving his office with him. 

The fact of the matter is that despite the coils that had broken loose in your gut just a while ago, your pores rippled with goosebumps at the brush of his fingertips down your shoulder when he followed so close behind you. He closed the door behind him and his touch had fled just as soon as it had arrived. 

“Did you mean what you said?” He started, “when you said you’d … invite me over.”

“Mmm, why do you ask?” You teased.

“Because if your word is true we’d stop when the Fortress of Meropide meets the surface.”

note. don’t ask me why I have a backstory for reader and more ideas for this fic oml. Idk why I am rotting sm over this. Tysm for reading!

taglist: @mun-in-rain @neverlandlostchild @mmmairon

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

one order to be served by lewis carl davidson hamilton please!! oaty slice, english muffin, apple turnover and croissant with a side of tea, cider and pina colada 😁😁 reader is working remotely and having an online meeting but lewis is dying to eat her out and just do it while she was in the meeting 🥵💦

irresistible

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i think this may be my longest story yet, i have been dying to write this and get back to writing after being gone so long, i hate promising to post and then not being able to cause of work, sorry for the late reply <3 your requested prompts will be bolded

pairing; husband lewis hamilton x female wife reader

blurb; working from home while trying to hide the fact that your married and pregnant is hard when your husband can't keep is hands to himself, he's just lucky you love him aka lewis eats his wife out while she's on a zoom call

warnings; oral fem!receiving, thigh kisses, belly kisses, semi public sex, body worship, pregnancy kink. [let me know if i missed anything]

tea; semi public sex cider; body worship pina colada; pregnancy oaty slice; "you smell like me" english muffin; "i could die between these legs" apple turnover; "can you keep it down in there" changed to "can you keep it down under there" croissant; "don't you dare"

words; 3.1k

currently playing; hands to myself by selena gomez "can't keep my hands to myself, no matter how hard i'm trying to"

"oh god dammit, boba no!" you scolded your two year old calico who sat on the stool next to your laptop, swatting at the screensaver you had set, picking her up you stepped out of the little home studio you'd made for yourself during the covid days.

"lew!" you called out waiting for an answer but after not getting one, you wandered down the hall and into the living room, as you carried boba into the living room, she squirmed in your arms, clearly displeased at being removed from her new favorite perch, you sighed, scratching behind her ears to relax her "i know, i know the pretty lights are fun, but mommy needs to work."

as you entered the living room, you noticed lewis sprawled out on the couch, completely engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone. you rolled your eyes fondly, a soft smile decorating your face as you realized why he hadn't answered your call.

"lew..." still no response as his eyes remained trained on his phone "lewis hamilton" you scolded and that caught his attention immediately, looking up at you with soft eyes as he dropped his phone.

"am i in trouble.." he gulped, looking sheepish as he responded.

"not yet," you said, your tone softening as you took in his worried expression. "but you will be if you don't start paying attention."

you merely dropped boba onto his lap and crossed your arms over your chest "please keep her out of my studio... the album is due at the end of the month and i still have three songs to finish" you groaned.

he nodded numbly which made you feel guilty for scolding him over something so silly and so you lent down and placed little kisses against his lips "i'm sorry i called you lewis" you mumbled as your thumb gently traced over his cheek. "you'll always be my lew"

you left him on the sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge but before you could move and return to your studio, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, cradling your pregnant belly lightly.

"you smell like me bub" lewis mumbled into the skin of your neck, which sent shivers zipping up and down your spine.

you leaned back into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. a soft smile played on your lips as you placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers.

"i should hope so," you murmured, turning your head slightly to catch his eye, resting it on his shoulder. "i've been wearing your sweater all day."

he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. "i noticed," he said, his arm tightening around you. "it looks incredible on you."

"well i unfortunately have to take it off soon" you groaned "stupid zoom meeting with my producer"

lewis sighed, running his fingers over your bump, the soft fabric of his over sized sweater rubbing on your skin gently. "can't you just keep it on for the meeting?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

you shook your head, a wry smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "not unless i want to explain to my producer why i'm wearing 'the' lewis hamilton's sweater" you giggled.

lewis chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "but i'd love to see see his reaction." his voice dropped into a whisper, your producer had always been flirty with you mainly because he thought you were single and lewis hated it.

you playfully swatted his arm, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity and tone of voice. "that's horrible lew"

"i hate the way he flirts with you, your mine" he growled against the skin of your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin. "and this proves it" his finger ran over the cold metal of your wedding band.

"your lucky i love you lew, your so possessive and you and i both know you like keeping this private, i like it being just us" you giggled, removing yourself from his grip, pulling his sweater up and over your head, placing it on the counter.

you stood on your tippy toes to peck his lips "love you, i should go" and with that you made your way back to your studio, almost waddling due to the size of your belly.

as you walked, lewis couldn't help but admire you in your white floral maternity dress, he couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in his belly or resist the surge of desire that simmered within him.

lewis had always found you irresistible but now that you were pregnant he could hardly ever keep his hands to himself anymore, working on your newest album was the only break you got from his ever wandering hands.

but unfortunately for you, it seemed that not even that would be enough to stop lewis anymore, he made his way to your home studio, feet padding on the hardwood floors as he went.

you wouldn't have even known that lewis was there, leaning against the door-frame had he not accidentally bumped the door causing the hinges to squeak.

"what are you doing lew" you mumbled, taking your seat in front of your mic, lewis didn't answer your question, he merely wandered over and dropped to his knees in front of you.

his head rested in your lap, hands holding your hips as he placed kisses to your swollen belly, each of them filled with love and a gentleness that only lewis had ever shown you, it was part of the reason you'd fallen for him.

"want to taste you bub" his words were mumbled but you understood him well enough, you shook your head "don't you dare even think about it" you softly scolded, hand cupping his cheek.

but lewis wasn't in the mood to listen, he wanted to taste you and he had to do it now, the desire simmering within him was pushing him to do so, you were beautiful and he just couldn't get enough of you.

his hands trailed up your thighs, his touch feather light and making a pool of desire simmer in your own belly or was that just the baby getting hungry again, most likely the latter you thought as a giggle escaped your soft lips.

"why do i even bother" you murmured as his fingers started pulling at the band of your panties, eager to get them off and thrown into the nearest corner as soon as humanly possible.

you lifted your hips knowing if you didn't that lewis would simply rip them off you and you couldn't afford to be down yet another pair of panties all because your husband couldn't keep his hands to himself.

you watched as his head disappeared under the skirts of your dress, hands gently parting your thighs to get a better look at your dripping cunt, the way this man could affect you so easily.

he nuzzled against the soft skin of your thigh, you started to get lost in the feeling when the facetime ringtone rang out through the room causing you to jump in your seat, you were so distracted by your god of a husband that you'd basically forgotten you were meant to be facetiming your producer.

"can you keep it down under there" you asked lewis and when he hummed against your skin, you trusted him, bad choice might i say and adjusted your laptop so that both lewis and your belly were out of view before clicking 'accept call'.

"there's the star i know and love" your producer; thomas's voice rang out, you glanced at the screen and smiled as best you could, with lewis currently between your legs, the last thing you wanted to be doing right now was talking to thomas.

"hey tom" you mumbled, voice quiet in order to keep yourself from moaning as lewis kissed at your thighs, slowly inching his way towards your dripping wet cunt with every kiss.

thomas began to ramble about the new album and the last three songs that were needed and while you tried your best to listen, your focus was quickly pulled away from the computer screen and was put into staying quiet when lewis's tongue licked your cunt from bottom to top, nibbling on your clit which he knew would make you squirm.

you nibbled on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your composure as lewis worked his magic between your thighs. you could have sworn you could taste the metallic tang of blood from how hard you were gnawing on your bottom lip in that moment.

thomas's voice began to fade into a distant buzz in your ears. your fingers gripped at the arms of your chair, knuckles turning white as you fought the urge to moan.

lewis's hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. the thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body betraying your attempts to appear normal.

"taste so good" you heard lewis's mumbled voice and if you weren't so focused on trying to remain quiet and not draw attention to what was really going on, on your side of the screen you would've smacked him round the head.

thomas's face on the screen remained oblivious, still chattering away about chord progressions and potential guest artists. "what about olivia, we've been wanting to work together for awhile" you suggested when you managed to calm yourself enough to speak, your suggestion set thomas off on another tangent.

'good' you thought, that should hopefully keep him distracted for a while but you were once again pulled from your thoughts when lewis's tongue swirled around your most sensitive spots, making your thighs tremble around his head.

you were struggling to maintain your composure as lewis continued his ministrations. thomas's voice once again fading into a distant buzz as pleasure coursed through your body.

"that's actually a great idea," you managed to catch thomas say. "maybe we could arrange a writing session next week?" he suggested to which you merely nodded in return.

lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of your chair, the new angle sent a jolt of electricity up your spine, and you had to disguise the gasp that escaped you as a cough.

"everything okay?" thomas asked, his brow furrowing with concern, he was always concerned when it came to you, sometimes a little too much for lewis's liking.

"peachy" you squeaked, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "just recovering from a bit of a dry throat" you lied, reaching for your water bottle to make it seem real.

lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, he was going to leave bruises that was for sure but knowing your husband as well as you did, he would also make sure to kiss them better because he hated hurting you, even when you insisted you were fine.

you knew you were completely fucked however the moment you felt lewis's tongue slip inside your cunt, desperate to taste every bit of you that he could.

your breath caught in your throat as lewis's tongue explored you hungrily. every flick and swirl sending shock waves of pleasure radiating through your body, your hips began to involuntarily move against his face the best they could with your rounded swollen belly in the way, thank god it was still hidden from the cameras view.

"oh god, bub" you moaned softly, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

he growled quietly in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations you were currently feeling. lewis's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he devoured you with single-minded focus, you were his top priority in this moment and his focus would remain entirely on you, until you tipped over the edge of your release.

wave after wave of bliss washed over you as lewis worked you expertly with his mouth, you could feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge of release, just a little more...

"ah y/n, you still with me" holy fuck!, you'd completely forgotten about your producer currently working on a melody on his side of the computer screen, thomas was the most oblivius man you'd ever known and today it was working in your favor.

the fact that he somehow hadn't noticed what was going on almost made you laugh, you bit your lip hard to stop yet another soft moan from slipping past your lips and despite everything that was happening, you somehow managed to croak out a reply to thomas.

"y-yeah, just concentrating," you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady, thomas nodded absentmindedly, completely focused on the track he was currently mixing. "what do you think of this bassline?" he asked, pressing play.

a pulsing beat filled the room, providing the perfect cover as lewis picked up his efforts, he wanted thomas to know what was going on but you were not about to let that happen, not on your watch.

"it's good," you gasped out "maybe try... ah speeding it up a bit?"

as thomas began to fiddle with the tempo, you felt yourself rapidly approaching the point of no return, lewis's skilled tongue was soon joined by his equally skilled fingers slipping inside your tight hot cunt as his mouth started to suck and nibble on your clit.

all the emotions and sensations that you were feeling was making your head dizzy, you wanted to end the call with thomas right then and there so that you could focus on lewis and lewis alone but you knew that, that wasn't about to happen unfortunately.

as lewis's movements intensified, you were struggling to maintain your composure, your breath quickened as you fingers tangled in the fabric of your dress skirt and hiked it up and around your hips.

as you did lewis looked up at you with mischievous eyes, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you, his fingers curled inside you, finding that pleasurable spongy spot inside you as his tongue flicked rapidly over your sensitive bud, you swore you could feel lewis smile agaisnt you.

"is everything alright?" thomas asked, finally beginning to notice how quiet you were being on this call compared to all the other video calls you'd shared over these past few months.

"ah.. actually no" you stammered out. "i think i might be coming down with something" you lied to thomas for a second time today.

lewis increased his pace, determined to push you over the edge, you weren't sure how much longer you were going to be able to hold on.

your breath hitched as you tried to maintain your composure, thomas's concerned voice crackled through the phone, "do you need to rest? we can talk later if you're not feeling well."

"n-no, it's okay," you managed to mutter, lewis's fingers dug into your thighs, his tongue and finger's relentless rhythm threatening to unravel you completely.

"are you sure?" thomas pressed, clearly unconvinced. "you sound... strange." panic fluttered in your chest. you couldn't let him suspect what was really happening. "i'm fine, really," you insisted, your voice strained. "just a bit of a headache." you reached for your water once more.

lewis pulled away from your cunt, his fingers slipping out of your warm cunt as well, his breath was hot against the skin of your thighs as he whispered, "tell him you have to go” oh how you prayed thomas hadn't heard that.

you felt a shiver run down your spine at lewis's command. your mind raced, torn between the overwhelming sensations that your husband was making you feel and the need to stay on the video call with thomas and finish the album.

"actually," you gasped out, "i think i might need to lie down for a bit." you had caved, mind you with a husband like lewis, who wouldn't cave when asked.

"of course," thomas replied, his voice laced with genuine concern for you "get some rest. we can catch up tomorrow."

"thanks," you whispered, your finger moved the cursor so it was hovering over the end call button. "i'll text you later." as soon as the call disconnected, a low moan escaped your lips.

lewis looked up at you again "good girl," he murmured, his voice husky with desire for you, his beautiful wife. "now, let me hear you properly."

you finally allowed you restraint crumble and you cried out, no longer having to hide the pleasure coursing through your body. "your a fucking menace lew" you scolded your husband as he went back to work, tongue flicking across your clit with renewed fervor.

lewis chuckled against your sensitive core, the vibrations sending shock waves of pleasure through you once more, his strong hands which you loved oh so much gripped at your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed in your seat.

"you love it," he murmured "no i love you" you replied, fingers tangling in with his twisted braids "my handsome handsome husband"

"don't you dare stop," you gasped, your voice hoarse with need, lewis redoubled his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure, he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just so and that's when you saw stars, your back arched as waves of ecstasy washed over you

"that's it, baby," lewis encouraged, your body trembled as he guided you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, his touch now feather-light and teasing, when your breathing finally steadied, he kissed a trail up your body paying special attention to your bump before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you swore you could taste yourself on his tongue.

"you're so beautiful when you come undone," he murmured pulling away his voice low and husky, his hands rubbed at your thighs soothingly "i could die between these legs" he chuckled.

"i am so going to write a song about this" you teased with a giggle, hand cupping his cheek as you stared into the brown eyes you loved so much, that could be a pretty could be an interesting way to announce your relationship you thought.

he leaned into your touch, a soft smile playing on his lips. "oh yeah? what's it gonna be called?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

"hmm," you pondered, pretending to think hard. "how about 'the ballad of lewis's talented tongue'?" you joked.

lewis could help but burst out in laughter, burying his face in your neck, "cheeky," he mumbled against your skin, pressing a soft kiss there. "i like it though but i might have to fight you for the rights to it."

you ran your thumb across his cheek, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "we could always collaborate," you suggested, your voice softening. "i think we would make beautiful music together."

lewis lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a tender look that made your heart skip. "we already do, love,"

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 77

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, April 2; 1:50 PM - Downtown.

Time is passing. Only one week remains before the holidays. I'm eager to get there. Lucy and I have agreed that I will give my all during these last weeks so that I can relax afterward. It's tough. I'm barely with my friends at school anymore, but I want to be ready for the big day. They know and understand that. Another thing that's hard is that Lucy doesn’t show me any affection at school. Ever since Wiegman found out, she's been very cautious. Sometimes she hugs me in the evening or gives me a kiss or two, but that's it. So, I'm glad it's the weekend. At least now, she doesn't hold back.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asks me.

"Of course," I chuckle. "It's not the first time I've been here."

Today is the second Saturday I'm going to work with Grace at the gallery. She wants to make sure we can work together and that we both enjoy it. Personally, I loved being here last week. It didn't feel like work. Grace has a much more modern style, thanks to street art. Mine is still very classical, so I understand why she said she could teach me a lot. We complement each other in a way. She asked me to come back today, and she'll give me her decision tonight. By the end of the day, I'll know if my future has a chance in this field. I sincerely hope so. It's the only concrete offer I have. I know that if I get my degree, I can find work in administration, but let's just say that’s not what I want.

"True," Lucy replies. "Will you text me when you're done?"

"Like last time, yes. Say hi to everyone for me."

Lucy is going to meet up with her friends at the venue. They need to clear out the last few things before next week. I think they still have a lot to do. I regret not being with them. I enjoy lending a hand, but I have other responsibilities today.

"I won't forget," she says with a smile.

"And tell Ale I'm supporting her with all my strength for tonight."

Lucy laughs, nodding. Leah party is tonight. I sulked about it for a long time. I felt a little guilty for not being there since I haven't been spending much time with them, but I can always count on Lucy to lift my spirits.

"I'll tell her. Now go. You’re going to be late again."

"How about a little kiss first?"

She smiles and leans over to kiss me.

"Have a good day, my love," I say before getting out of the car.

I close the door and walk toward the gallery. I know Lucy won't leave until I’m inside. And that's exactly what happens. I enter the gallery, triggering the little bell hanging on the door. I take the time to close it, and only then do I see my girlfriend's car pulling away. I smile at that but quickly refocus.

"Ah, hey Ona," Grace greets me.

"Hey," I reply.

The first thing she asked me to do last week was to speak informally with her. I must admit it’s a relief. She's young, probably around Lucy’s age. At least I’m sure I won’t mess up. It also makes me feel more comfortable.

"How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

I smile and approach her for a cheek kiss. The gallery she owns is nothing like Mr. Fields'. It's smaller. Much smaller, but I love it. It's very cozy. It's dark, with occasional light accents here and there. I recognize her style from Nyko's paintball artwork.

"You came at the perfect time. I was trying to hang a painting, but it’s up high, and I couldn’t manage alone. Can you help me?"

"Yeah, of course. I’ll just drop my stuff in the back."

"Oops, sorry, poor you," she laughs. "I'm already piling on the work. Go ahead, I’ll wait."

"Oh no, don’t worry," I giggle.

"Meet me in the back."

I nod while taking off my jacket. The gallery is shaped like an "L." It's on a corner, which is lucky. This way, each piece displayed is lit by the large windows. Grace had the entire place renovated, and I must admit it’s brilliant. Passersby can see inside without having to come in. I go behind the counter to reach a back room. There’s about 20 square meters of space here, which serves as a workshop, storage, and even a dressing room. I hang my bag and jacket on the coat rack before joining Grace at the back of the gallery. Now I understand why she needed my help. She’s waiting for me at the top of a stepladder, with a huge canvas on the floor.

"Wow, it's beautiful," I comment.

The painting is a street art piece of the city of Seattle in multicolored hues. I can totally recognize Grace’s style in it. It’s truly stunning.

"Did you make it?" I ask, just to be sure.

"Yeah," she smiles. "I want it to be the centerpiece, but as you can see, it’s quite big."

"Yeah, I can see that," I chuckle. "Hold on, I’ll lift it for you."

No sooner said than done. I lift the painting so she can grab it where she’s standing. I hold it until she manages to hang it from the suspended ceiling using hooks. Unlike the rest of the room, the ceiling is made of white oak beams. It contrasts nicely with the anthracite walls.

"Phew, thanks."

She climbs down the stepladder, and we step back to see how it looks.

"Not bad, huh?"

"It looks great," I reply. "I think the painting’s just a little crooked."

"Yeah, I just noticed that," she giggles. "Can you stay below in case it slips?"

I nod, and we adjust it until it's perfectly straight. Meanwhile, several people have entered the gallery. Most are just curious, but I think some of the paintings catch their eye. Grace told me that most people come back later for a painting that caught their attention. I guess business isn’t doing too bad.

"Have you sold more paintings?" I ask, noticing some empty spots.

"Yeah," she says with a smile. "Can you help me replace them? Then we can get back to the painting you started last week."

"Sounds good to me."

"Not like you have a choice," she teases.

I laugh and shake my head. We head to the storage room to get the new paintings. I’m supposed to stay until closing, but I can tell we’re not going to be idle. That’s fine with me. I prefer this to sitting around doing nothing.

Saturday, April 2; 5:20 PM - Gallery.

"Well, I think it’s time to stop," Grace tells me.

I check the time. It’s almost 5:30. I’m surprised. The time flew by.

"Oh yeah. I’ll text Lucy so she can pick me up."

"Don’t you have your own car?" she asks.

"Not yet, but I think it’s coming soon."

"That would be better, indeed," she smiles.

I text Lucy to let her know I'm done, then I start putting away the tools I used and wash my brushes in the sink. I haven’t finished my painting yet, but I’m sure I’ll have another chance to work on it. Grace’s advice has been really helpful. She has a completely different method than mine, but I appreciate her feedback. Once I’m done, I return to the front where Grace is behind the counter. She managed to sell four paintings this afternoon—and not just any paintings. I think she’s doing pretty well for someone who just started out on her own.

"All done."

"Great," she says. "I promised I’d give you my answer about next year, so here it is," she says, handing me a form.

I pick it up to see what it is. A small smile forms as I realize it’s an application for the Seattle School of Art.

- Does this mean…?

- These two half-days with you were cool. You’re nice, you know how to do good work, and you’ve got talent. That’s all I was asking for.

- Wow, I say, not knowing what else to say.

- I was able to enter one of your pieces into the school's last enrollment competition thanks to my contacts, and you’ve been selected, she tells me.

I’m having trouble understanding. She entered me into a competition without me knowing?

- You…

- Sorry for not asking your permission, but I didn’t have a choice, she giggles, seeing the look on my face.

- It’s no problem.

- You’ve still got a lot of work to improve, Ona, but you really impressed them, so… she shrugs. Welcome, I guess.

Unable to hold back, I hug her. It’s really the least I can do. She just saved my entire future.

- Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I’m so relieved. A huge weight has just been lifted off my shoulders. She giggles at my reaction, but she doesn’t realize what she’s giving me. I’m finally going to be able to live my dream. Just six months ago, I thought this was impossible. All my life, I’ve been told I couldn’t make a living from this, and yet here it is, happening. It feels like a dream. I release my new boss when I hear the doorbell chime. I smile when I see Lucy walk in.

- Well, it seems like there’s good news here.

- Oh yes! I exclaim, handing her the application form.

Lucy looks at it for a moment, then glances between us with a smile forming on her lips.

- Ah, yes, I see now. That’s really amazing. Thank you so much, Grace. Ona can finally relax a bit.

- Oh, it was my pleasure, Grace replies with a small laugh.

I go to Lucy and slip into her arms. She kisses the top of my head while still holding the form.

- Do we need to send this to the school? she asks.

- Uh, it’s better if you bring it back to me. I need to return it as soon as possible to my contact at the school.

- Alright. Well, do you have a little time? We can fill it out now.

- Oh, that would be great, yeah. I’ll get you a pen.

As soon as she leaves for the back, I let out a little squeal of joy. Lucy laughs, holding me tighter.

- Can you believe it!?

- Yes, yes, she giggles. This is really amazing, babe. I’m proud of you.

She kisses me softly. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I can’t believe all of this is happening so fast. Just a few weeks ago, I imagined myself sorting papers at a desk.

- You know what you have to do now, she whispers to me. You absolutely have to pass your exam.

- I’m working on it. I think I’m doing pretty well.

- Yes, that’s true, she smiles. Who would’ve thought you’d get serious one day…

I stick my tongue out at her teasing. Grace comes back with a pen, and Lucy helps me fill out my part. I realize I don’t even know her address, and it’s about to become mine soon. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to move in with her and call it my home too. I already feel at home there, but it’ll be more official. We’ll be there every day, together. Just thinking about it makes me feel strange. The form is easy to fill out. I double-check that I haven’t forgotten anything before copying the information onto the other two forms. I sign them and hand them to my new boss, who smiles mischievously.

- Well, you’ve just signed your death warrant. You’re under my command now, she jokes.

- Oh, there are worse things… I hope, I giggle.

- You’ll have time to form your opinion, Lucy comments. Well, shall we head out now?

- Great idea. I’m heading home as well. My boyfriend is taking me out to dinner tonight.

- Lucky you, I say with a smile. Well then…

I don’t finish my sentence. I’m not really sure what to say. Now that I’ve signed the papers, what’s next? Grace seems to understand my dilemma, as she says:

- I’ll contact you for the next steps. I’ll give you the details of when you start working here and when your classes start too. You’ll probably need to come back to sign a contract.

- No problem. I’m close by, after all.

- Great. Well, have a good evening then.

- Have a good evening too.

I head to the back to grab my things and return to Lucy. We say goodbye to my new boss one last time before heading out. I feel like a ball of energy. Everything is falling into place now that I’ve signed that form.

- What are we doing tonight?

- Well, I may have reserved a table too…

- Really?

I turn to her sharply. She smiles, amused by my reaction.

- Yep. I thought it would be nice to celebrate the good news.

- Oh yeah? And how did you know, huh? I just found out myself.

I smile as she presses me gently against the car when we reach it. Her hands rest softly on my hips. I relax as her lips tease mine.

- You should know I never doubt you…

- Why are you so perfect? I murmur, wrapping my arms around her neck.

- I’m not.

- Yes, you are, at least with me.

- Well, that’s because you make me that way. Because I love you.

I groan and lean in to kiss her, but she pulls back, keeping me just out of reach. I pout. I don’t like it when she denies me a kiss.

- Don’t make that face, she smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I wanted to apologize, because I’m not as perfect as you think. I’m denying you a night with your friends tonight.

I step back at those words. I can see a hint of sadness in her eyes. It’s partly my fault. I guess I made my disappointment a little too clear about it. I smile, caressing her cheek.

- The most important thing is that I’m spending the evening with you, my love.

- Really…? Because—

- You’re the most important person to me. I know you’re anxious about meeting them.

- What—

- Don’t take me for a fool, I interrupt her with an amused tone. I know you hide your fear behind the idea that we have to be discreet at school. But we both know you’re just scared of meeting them as my girlfriend.

Lucy opens her mouth, then closes it. I love when I can leave her speechless. It’s so rare. She sighs, shaking her head, and tries to pull away, but I hold her close. Our chests are pressed together. I can feel her heart beating a little too fast. She doesn’t like being caught off guard, and I get it. I feel the same way when she surprises me.

- You’re right, she whispers. I’m sorry.

- Don’t be. I totally understand. It must not be easy to meet your students as my friends.

- No, not really. I tend to know what everyone thinks of me at school.

She’s not wrong. Even now, everyone asks me how I can spend so much time with Lucy. They can’t see her as the woman standing in front of me right now, and it’s such a shame. I slide my hand under her hair, gently stroking her neck. My touch seems to calm her down.

That’s true, I murmur. But they don’t know my girlfriend. I know it must be scary for you, but it’s important to me. I want people to meet my girlfriend. I want to show you off. To say that you’re mine, like you do.

- Like me, huh?

- Oh yes. Do I need to remind you of the number of hickeys you've given me? You love to claim that I belong to you.

- Yeah, that's true... There's still a bit of me missing on you, though.

I giggle as her lips brush against my neck.

- No, Lucia! I replied, gently pushing her away.

- What, you don't like my marks? she teased.

- Stop it. That'll be the first thing they tease you about.

- Really? I bet they'll mock my commander nickname instead.

- You want to play that game? Alright, let's make a bet then.

- A bet, huh? OK. If I'm right, I get to do whatever I want with you for a whole evening, and vice versa if you're right.

- Hmm... OK, I'm in.

- Good, she said, pecking my lips. Now let's go. We'll be late for my program otherwise.

- Your program, huh? What do you have planned for me this time?

- A romantic evening, she announced as she walked around the car. I had to make up for the event we're not attending tonight.

- You didn't have to, but I like it. I enjoy going out with you.

- Don’t expect anything crazy. We're just going to have dinner, and I thought we could go to the movies afterward, she said once seated behind the wheel.

- I particularly like that plan, I said while fastening my seatbelt.

- Perfect, then.

We exchanged a smile before she drove off. She took me to a restaurant I didn't know, one fancier than the places we usually go to.

- It's a French restaurant, she whispered as a waiter guided us to our table.

- Really? I asked with a small smile. What gave you the idea?

- Nowhere, I just enjoy coming here.

Lucy had everything planned. She really booked a table, and we were lucky enough to get one on the restaurant's veranda. I wondered how long ago she made the reservation.

- Thank you, she said to the waiter.

- You're welcome. Here are the menus. I'll be back to check on you later.

- Thanks, I added as he left.

I looked around. It was particularly beautiful here, and we were lucky that the sky was clear.

- It's beautiful, I whispered while staring at the starry sky.

- I booked last week... when Grace told me she'd be watching you.

I lowered my eyes, mouth slightly agape.

- Y-you knew?

- Well... yeah, she replied mischievously. She just wanted to keep you waiting a bit longer, so you'd keep giving your best today.

She laughed while I sulked. She knew before I did. But how could I hold it against her when I saw where we were now?

- You're lucky I enjoy surprises.

She laughed and intertwined our fingers. I brought them to my lips for a kiss. This moment of relaxation felt particularly good. I felt exhausted from giving so much, but now that I knew where I was headed next year, I was even more motivated to ace my final exam, which was fast approaching. I’d already had a preview with my recent tests, and I hadn’t done too badly. Next week, we have mock exams. I'm looking forward to them because at least I’ll know exactly where I stand before the real ones.

- What are you thinking about?

- A lot of things, I answered with a small smile. How will things go from here?

- Well, as planned. You’ll take your mock exams, then we’ll go on vacation.

- I can't wait, I giggled. I’m so done with all this.

- I bet, but it'll be fine, she reassured me.

- And after that?

- After that? she asked, tilting her head.

- Well, after... after school...

We were interrupted by the waiter who came to take our drink orders. I trusted Lucy and chose the same as her, a non-alcoholic cocktail. We waited for him to leave before I turned back to Lucy. She shrugged.

- After school... well, we’ll go to Barcelona, and then we'll come back here.

- To live at your place, I murmured.

The idea seemed so surreal. Yet, it was what was going to happen in just a few weeks. After all this time.

- Have you changed your mind?

I snapped out of my thoughts at her question. I could see a hint of concern in her eyes.

- What? No, no! I was just thinking... maybe we could make things more official...?

- What do you mean?

- It might be too soon but... I’d like, I don’t know... to co-own the apartment? We’re going to live together, so I want to contribute to the expenses.

Lucy nodded before sinking into her chair, crossing her arms.

- That’s indeed a big step, becoming a co-owner.

- I don’t want us to move. The apartment is great, but... I want to invest in it, you know?

- I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

I opened my mouth, but I closed it when Lucy raised her hand to stop me from arguing.

- I trust us, I know how you feel, but you never know what could happen. There could be complications between us, and I wouldn’t want the apartment to become another relationship issue to deal with.

- I’m not planning on leaving you, I said, pouting.

Lucy laughed and leaned toward me. She grabbed both my hands, pulling them under her chin.

- I know, love, but it’s too soon. Tomorrow, we’ll celebrate two months together. I know we both feel like we’ve been together longer, but it’s only been two months.

- That’s true, I muttered.

- How about we see how living together full-time goes? I don’t think there will be any problems, but it’ll be a big difference from just weekends.

I nodded, feeling a little sulky. I didn’t like how right she was. After all, we were just at the beginning of our relationship, but I craved more. I needed more, I think, but I didn’t dare say it.

- Hey, she murmured.

She lifted my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. I hated facing her gaze. It made me feel so vulnerable. There was a determination in her eyes that sometimes made me wonder how she got to where she was.

- Don’t make that face. We have all the time in the world now, okay? There’s no need to rush. That’s how we’ll crash into a wall.

- Yeah... I mumbled.

I hated that she was right. The last time I rushed, it ended badly. I wanted to do things right, but at the same time, I wanted to speed things up. The waiter returned to bring our drinks and take our order. Since I hadn’t really paid attention to the menu, I agreed to Lucy’s suggestion that we share a dish—cheese platter, actually. She sold me on the idea, saying it was really good, so I accepted. As the waiter left, I still felt uneasy, but Lucy remained unfazed.

- Honey, one day, I’m going to make you my wife. We’ll buy a big house together, and maybe even have kids. I want all of that just as much as you do. Don’t think otherwise.

- I know, Lucia...

I blushed slightly at her words. If she wanted them to affect me, well, it was working. Wife and kids were big words, perfectly expressing our future together.

- So be patient. First and foremost, we need to learn how to live together and build a stable future. It all starts with a good job. Neither of us knows what our work experience will lead to, and it’s good to focus on that before jumping into anything else. Don’t you agree?

I sighed but nodded.

- Yeah, fine, you win.

She chuckled softly.

- Come on, give me a kiss.

I leaned in to give her what she wanted. I could never deny her that.

- Can we enjoy the evening now?

- Yes.

Our cheese platter finally arrived, and I had to admit it was a good choice. Lucy really knew what was good, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

- I wonder how things are going with Alexia, I mused as we started eating.

- No idea, my girlfriend giggled. But she wasn’t feeling well this afternoon. I had to comfort her.

- You, comforting her? Now I’ve seen everything.

- Well, yeah. I like her, surprisingly.

- That’s good news then, I teased. At least one of my friends you like.

- Oh, stop it, she rolled her eyes. I like Mapi too.

- That wasn’t the case in the beginning.

- We were both jealous, but I think she’s starting to understand where her place is with me.

- Yeah, I think you're right.

I sipped my drink, reflecting on the conversation we had a few weeks ago. Mapi had defended Lucy regarding what she didn’t yet know about Feli. I think she has indeed figured out her place with Lucy, even if she struggled to admit it. After all, she was my only close friend before I came here.

- Thinking about something in particular? Lucy asked, noticing I was lost in thought.

- No, I said, blushing. Just that you're right. She defended you not too long ago.

- Really? About what?

I shrugged. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.

- Something unimportant...

I know I’m a terrible liar, but I didn’t want to ruin our night with negative thoughts. Lucy stayed silent for a moment but eventually nodded.

- Okay, she whispered. You know you can tell me anything, right?

- Of course, I said with a small smile. But it’s nothing important. I just wanted you to know that she defended you, and I was the first one surprised.

- Alright... well, I guess things are changing.

We shared a smile. I knew she realized I wasn’t telling her everything, but I appreciated that she didn’t push. The evening continued without any more unsettling topics.

[antoncore]

bro when i tell you i could NOT stop thinking about apologizing (not necessarily for something bad) and begging…. who in riize/bnd😴

gonna do a separate post for bnd if others want it as i made this longer than i planned but for riize, anton and eunseok.

anton is clingy and loves loves LOVES having his hands all over you. he had “ignored” you when you went into his home studio, asking if he needed anything while he worked (although he did have his headphones in) and you got frustrated, storming out of the room. he would get up instantly to see you in the kitchen scrolling, you wouldn’t even notice he was there until you felt his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. you ignored him, continuing to scroll as he placed the softest of kisses along your neck, murmuring apologies between each one. “didn’t mean to ignore you, darling, you know how i get when i’m focused,” as you continued to scroll, not paying any attention to his words, he nuzzled into your neck, whispering softly “i’m sorry, let me make it up to you, please.”

he gently turned you around to face him, lifting you up onto the counter. “i’d do anything for you,” he continued, his voice soft and pleading as he got on his knees as his eyes searched yours, practically begging for your forgiveness as his kissed his way up your thighs. you’d just let him, watching just how eager he was to please you. his full attention would be completely on you for hours as he ate you out. he held your hand tight as you put your other hand through his hair, apologies and pleas slipping from his lips every time he pulled away to breathe. would have you cum on his tongue multiple times until you said the words “i forgive you.”

eunseok had to work late on the night of your anniversary dinner. the deadlines for a crucial project were fast approaching, his team under pressure to finalise designs. every little detail mattered, needing his full attention. he sipped on his coffee as he sent you a text with a heavy sigh, feeling so guilty about missing such an important date.

eunseok: i’m sorry i have to miss the dinner doll, need to finalise the design plans tonight and i can’t leave until it’s all done.

your heart dropped slightly but you understood how stressful the night before a deadline was. you typed a quick reply, trying your best to reassure him that it was okay. as the hours passed, you found yourself glancing at the clock, every second only worsening your disappointment, wondering when eunseok was coming home. he’d walk through the door with a tired smile, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands as a small apology. despite the sweet gesture, you were still frustrated, unable to forget what tonight could’ve been.

he would make it all better by fucking the frustration out of you, letting you order him around slightly, him giving you his cock exactly how you wanted. he’d listen attentively to your every word, your every sound to know that he was making you feel good, if he needed to pick up the pace or slow down. he’d go for rounds until you wanted him to stop, the night ending in breathlessness and him collapsing on top of you, giving you forehead kisses. he would even book a last minute weekend getaway as an extra gesture so that you could celebrate and have some quality time together away from home and the pressures of work (and so that he could make love to you, just like you’d want on your anniversary, ending with you being full of his cum, another way of showing how you always came first, wanting to spend his whole life with you <3)

[xmads-omensx]

It's Okay, I've Got You

Noah Sebastian x reader One Shot

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,736

Content Warnings: Swearing, fluff, slight angst if you squint, thunderstorms

Summary: Y/N has never let Noah stay at her place, and she has never let herself stay at his. Noah gets to the bottom of it one night when a thunderstorm forces her to stay at his place.

Noah and I had been dating for around three months, but hadn’t spent the night at each other’s places yet. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to be able to stay over at his place, or for him to stay at mine, but I just hadn’t made that leap yet.

It wasn’t for Noah’s lack of trying however. He had asked me if I wanted to stay over after movie dates at his place, dinner dates that ran late int the night, even driving aimlessly after getting a drive-thru meal.

He had stayed late at my place, clearly hinting towards him staying the night, but I had always played as being completely oblivious to it.

One night in particular, he was sprawled out on my sofa, with me curled up in his side as we talked about how his tour that he had just finished had been. He was visibly exhausted and all that he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep “for at least twenty seven days” as he had said to me when he walked through the door of my apartment.

I felt his breathing start to slow as sleep overtook him, and as guilty as I felt about it, I started to shake his shoulder to wake him up. His eyes fluttered awake as he gave me a sleepy smile. “Sorry baby.” He grumbled.

“Do you want me to call you a cab?” I offered, rubbing his arm affectionately. “You probably shouldn’t drive home if you’re this tired honey.”

“I can just crash on your couch if you’re cool with it?” He said, fighting to keep his beautiful brown eyes open.

“No, Noah you need to be in your own bed. You’ve just come back from a big tour.”  I tried to convince him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But I’m so fucking tired.” He mumbled sleepily.

“Noah, I’m calling you a cab.” I told him, grabbing my phone and booking an uber to take him home.

“Baby I promise I’m fine on the couch.” He tried to convince me.

“Noah. You’re going home and that’s the end of it.” I huffed, frustrated.

I felt guilty for doing this to him, but I didn’t want to have to make up some bullshit excuse and this was the best I could think of. he was just back from tour after all, and a night in his own bed would do him some good.

Truth was, there was a reason that I didn’t want him to stay, and why I couldn’t stay at his place, but I was too embarrassed for him to find out. It all came to a head one night during a terrible thunderstorm that began whilst myself and Noah were curled up on his bed watching Demon Slayer together.

I heard the pitter-patter of rain on the windows and didn’t think much of it. I had always liked rain and it didn’t seem so bad that it would stop me from driving myself back home when our date was over.

Noah pulled me closer into his side as the rain got heavier, making me feel so much cozier and my heart warmed at his action. He kissed the top of my head and rested his cheek there. “Rain’s getting heavier.” He whispered.

“In that case, I should probably head home before it gets worse.” I started to pull away from him as I moved to gather all of my belongings.

“Baby no, just stay.” He protested.

“No, Noah, it’s fine. I don’t live far and the roads will be quiet. It’s fine.” I grabbed my phone charger and shoved it into my bag, moving to grab my phone and car keys off of his bedside table. Before I could, Noah grabbed my hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

“Please baby, I want you to stay. Plus you hate driving in the dark.” He tried to convince me.

“It’s fine. It’s a short drive. I’ll send you a photo of me with a spoon on my head or some shit like that so you know I’m home safe.” I said with a laugh.

“Baby it’s raining.” He said.

“It’s not that bad and I’m sure it’ll pass soon.” I replied.

As soon as those words left my mouth, a huge crack of lightning lit up Noah’s bedroom, followed by a huge crash of thunder.

“Okay, you’re definitely not going anywhere.” Noah stated, standing up and walking towards his wardrobe. “I’ve got some clothes you can borrow and then you can head back to your place tomorrow.”

I couldn’t control the fear that overtook my body as tears involuntarily fell down my face.

“Here’s an old shirt you can borrow…” Noah trailed off once he had turned back round to face me. “What’s up baby?” he walked over to me, placing the folded shirt on his bed, before taking me into a warm hug.

“Nothing it’s fine.” I mumbled into his hoodie.

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying babe. What’s going on?” He pushed.

“It’s embarrassing and you’ll laugh at me.” I said, looking at my feet.

“How about you get changed and we get into bed and we can talk about it?” Noah suggested.

Feeling defeated, I nodded my head and shuffled towards his ensuite bathroom. Locking the door, I looked up into the mirror and saw that my eyes had started to become puffy and my makeup had started to run. This was so fucking dumb.

After wiping my face clean with some of the makeup wipes Noah had bought when I started to hang out at his place more, I realised that I was going to have to tell him my deep, dark, embarrassing secret.

Accepting my defeat, I unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. I was greeted by Noah already sat in bed with a warm smile. The room was now only illuminated by his LED lights that were turned on a warm orange.

“Feel better baby?” Noah asked softly. I nodded weakly in reply, walking towards the bed. I hopped up and curled up with my head resting on Noah’s chest.

“You want to talk about it?” He whispered. I shrugged my shoulders. “It might help to talk about it.”

“It’s embarrassing and you’ll laugh at me.” I sighed in defeat.

“I swear to god, I won’t laugh. I would never laugh at you, beautiful.” He reassured.

“Imscaredofthedark.” I quickly mumbled into his bare chest.

“Hmm?” He questioned. “What did you say baby, I didn’t hear you.”

I sighed and said quietly, “I’m scared of the dark.”

There was a beat of silence before either of us spoke up again.

“I’m scared of heights.” Noah stated simply.

“What?” Questioned.

“Sorry, are we not just listing things that we are scared of?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“No Noah! I’m being serious. I’m scared, and I was too embarrassed to stay over or for you to stay over at my place and see my stupid fucking nightlight and laugh at me! There! I said it! Happy now?” I yelled at him in frustration.

“Wait here.” Noah got out of bed, put a shirt on and left his bedroom. I could hear footsteps pattering down the stairs. I sat back and sighed in frustration. He was going to leave me because I’m so fucking childish and too much of a pussy to be taken seriously by any man ever. Fuck my life.

About ten minutes had passed and Noah still wasn’t back. Oh my god. Was he downstairs telling Jolly and Jesse? They would all be laughing at me too!

There was never a real reason why the dark scared me so much. I knew nothing would hurt me. I guess it was always just the idea of being alone in a space that didn’t allow me to see everything. The unknown aspect of it always creeped me out.

That’s why my grandmother had bought me a nightlight when I moved out of the family home. She was the only one who had ever taken my phobia seriously. She had passed away about a year ago, and no one had ever understood me since, so I just stopped telling people when my nightlight came up in conversation, or staying over at other people’s houses.

Tears welled up in my eyes again and I began to cry softly into Noah’s pillow that still smelled like him.

Suddenly, his bedroom door opened slowly and in walked Noah. His hair was wet and his shirt was drenched and stuck to his chest. I looked at him with an expression of pure confusion. He whipped off his wet shirt and threw it in the laundry basket before grabbing a towel and drying hir hair slightly.

He held out his Bad Omens bag and handed it to me, then climbed back into bed and sat where he previously was.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“Open the bag.” He smiled down at me, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

I pulled on the zipper and opened the bag. Inside was a nightlight. But, not just any nightlight, MY nightlight. The one from my apartment. He had gone out in the thunderstorm and gotten it for me.

“Do you want to do the honours or should I?” He asked with a smile.

“What?” I replied. Still in slight shock from this romantic gesture.

“Plug it in? Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“Hmm… You can.” I said.

“Hang on then.” He gently took the nightlight from my hands and walked over to the outlet that was next to his bedroom door. He turned it on and it lit up with a soft, warm glow. Noah waked back over to the bed and climbed in. he then reached over to his bedside table and turned off his LED lights, making the room darker.

Noah could feel my body tense up slightly, so he pulled me closer to him and placed a kiss on top of my head.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered as he slowly began to rock me back and forth to comfort me. “Nothing is going to hurt you. Not when I’m here.”

I could feel sleep take over my body as I listened to his calming, steady heartbeat.

That was the best night sleep I had gotten in years.

[marshmallowgoop]

Minigifts: The thing so nice you gotta give twice

ELEMENTARY, MY DEAR WATSON (WAS WHERE HE BELONGED): THE LIFE AND LEGACY OF KUDOH SHINICHI This day in history marks what would have been the 25th birthday of Kudoh Shinichi, once Tokyo’s foremost high-school detective. Known for his inquisitive nature and “no such thing as winners or losers (especially when I’m losing)” philosophy, Mr. Kudoh’s greatest accomplishments include super wrong ideas about child endangerment and Kansai-ben appropriation. Mr. Kudoh’s intellect was evident at a young age, when he determined a cocaine addict predating CPR, lead-free paint, and the Geneva Conventions to be the paragon of brainpower and ethical behavior. Shortly after, he made his mark on the local community by scolding a kindergarten girl for crying, then personally ensuring the resignation of her favorite teacher. Such were the seeds of his oldest, most beloved relationship. Naturally, Mr. Kudoh expanded his talents and scope with age, and by his second year of high school had attained his nationally-renowned standing as a hero and savior among police administrators looking to cut budgets and overtime on people who actually investigate crimes for a living. In-between, he devoted his energies to several outstanding pastimes, such as proving that perfect pitch was no impediment to tone-deaf caterwauling, and puffing up a sport involving only half the body as an athletic ideal. Truly a Renaissance Man for our times. Bewilderingly, there are those who continue to insist that “Kudoh Shinichi” never existed as an individual, but rather as an elaborate masquerade maintained jointly by ballplayer Nagashima Shigeo, kendo-ka Okita Soshi, and/or convicted felon Kuroba Kaito. The rest of us, possessing a basic grasp of reality (especially concerning the likelihood the aforementioned three could maintain anything together for more than five minutes), will of course recall that Mr. Kudoh tragically passed last January, at the instant his beloved Sherlock Holmes was declared fiction's second-greatest detective by an international poll of some 70,000 professionals.

Nevertheless, we honor his memory every day we follow the World Cup, eat lemon pie, try to bring bowties back in style, or date martial artists way out of our league.

(Happy birthday, ya ahou.)

[shitouttabuck]

several sentence sunday

hello! from this post i saw on here yesterday and also the ridiculous would u peel an orange for me tweets

He imagines his heart as a citrus fruit, bright and bursting. This feels like digging a nail into the rind, working your thumb in, peeling it; quick, because this is already a familiar act—so much of loving Buck feels like memory, even the new. Half of what’s inside, the softest, stickiest, most tender parts of Eddie, given to Buck. The way Buck holds and handles with wonder each wedge of it like it’s—maybe not the first he’s ever had, not some Garden of Eden shit with its contorted belief of sin behind wanting and sharing, but like he’s going to savour it for the rest of time, plant the seeds inside that full-of-life place in his own chest. Keep Eddie there, look after this thing they’re giving each other so they can grow: upwards and intertwined and old together. Jesus, has Eddie always been this gross? This kind of giddy-in-love feeling that has every cell in his body vibrating with want and excitement and—joy, isn’t it? Untouchable, unshakeable joy, every time Buck so much as looks at him, never mind the touching and the telling and the loving on. That’s normal at the start of a relationship, Frank had told him. Yes, even an adult one, not a teenage hormone in sight. It’s just—his relationship with Ana hadn’t really had that, even at the start. And his second go-around with Shannon had been fraught with way too much hurt still held onto by them both. Attraction, passion, desire—check, check, and check. But this simple exhilaration, this fucking thrill that runs through him every time he remembers he gets to take Buck’s hand whenever the urge strikes? Every time Buck takes his hand, casual and easy? It’s a rush like no other. But that fades, right? You date for a few months, you live together, you learn, or relearn, every one of the annoying fucking habits the other person has, intimately, and you love them, so much, but the giddiness fades, right? But they’re coming onto a year, and there’s a ring stuffed into the bottom of the pair of Eddie’s socks he’s sure doesn’t have holes in them, and still, still, he thinks of Buck and he wants, giddy. He looks at Buck and the excitement is a full-body thrum. He reaches for Buck and the joy inside him is bursting, demanding, cannot be contained; it spills over and stains them, sticky like his split-open heart. And maybe that’s okay, he thinks, that he gets to feel like this without a deadline. Because if he gets to give it to Buck, press it into his hands and his mouth and the wispy curls at his hairline? It feels like joy is the point, and Buck’s the glowing foundation of it, and Eddie’s ready, actually, to spend a very long time getting accustomed to just how much happiness is his to keep.

idk where this fits yet, might belong to a wip or may write something more around it :)

tagging @onward--upward @eddiebabygirldiaz @housewifebuck @chronicowboy @colonoscopys @rewritetheending @jeeyuns @zahlibeth @anakinfallen @buckactuallys @bucksbignaturals @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @eowon @clusterbuck @try-set-me-on-fire @butchdiaz @transboybuckley @devirnis <3

[severussnapemylove]

What job do you think snape would get if didn't become a teacher at hogwarts?

My first thought is he'd own an apothecary. He'd be working on his own inventions and traveling a bit to collect ingredients. Maybe he'd publish his work too.

But also, an idea I don't really see brought up, he's very knowledgeable about the Dark Arts as well, so something like an auror or curse breaker is an interesting idea.

[xoxochb]

Throws glitter at you

Sparkles 🫶🏽

I fucking love glitter thank you darling

[mangoslixes]

hello my darling, hope everything is going well 🧡 ok now let’s talk business: could you give me a list of your 5 top favorite podcast, with a little description and your impressions? Please and thank you I’m super curious 🧡

Hello my love! I'm so sorry for disappearing, I've been drowning in finals season. But I'm finally free and here to talk about podcasts with you!

My current top 5 favourites are:

Arden: A fictional podcast about people making a true crime podcast. And it's modern Shakespearean retellings! I didn't know that bit when I started the show and after a while I connected the dots and it was all so interesting. An investigative journalist gets stuck making a podcast with an ex private detective, and they "hate" each other, so for the better half of the episode initially, it's just them arguing over small things. So if you like enemies to lovers, Shakespeare, true crime and a bite at capitalism with the most weirdest ad breaks I've ever heard, I'd highly recommend.

Mabel: it's a horror podcast, and it's about my favourite trope too, i.e, a fucked up house. It's about a carer leaving messages to her client's estranged granddaughter, Mabel. The narrative is so beautiful and haunting, I love it and the house too! I love the idea of houses that are haunting rather than haunted, abandoned houses rejecting humanity, houses that love or hate you to a destructive degree, houses that give too much to the point that they stifle you, houses that take too much until there's nothing left of you but a forgotten carcass at the mercy of time, just fucked up houses in general.

The Silt Verses: do you like the horror around Gods? Yes, the idea of gods existing is about mercy and humanity and generosity etc etc, but there's also the horror of Gods. Gods that are everywhere, within everything, but they're hungry and they need to be fed, they need to feed. They're always hungry, always starving. Gods whose ideas of generosity and miracles and gifts are so far from our own morals and ideas that it's just monstrous. Gods are everywhere and they're hungry. Good existential horror, makes me feel like this 🧍🏽‍♀️ when I listen to it.

Out of Sight: this!! This one's a bit hard to explain, but it's basically about this supernatural investigator and his partner Lazari. Each episode has a different supernatural mystery but they have Lazari's own troubles connecting them all. It's all about creepy legends, ghosts and two people trying to fix those problems while making a podcast out of it.

The White Vault: See I got attached to all of the characters, and that's what I'd recommend you not do because this is a found-footage style podcast. Now that we've got that covered, it's got five seasons, and I'll tell you how it starts and why it's terrifying. It starts with a repair team being sent to an arctic outpost, where they get stuck and are isolated for a while. Here things go south, because this is a horror podcast, so yes, things go down south incredibly fast. The voice cast is amazing, the sounds are amazing, and the details are gory. Then when we come to season 3, it gets worse, because we realize the monster was the least of our worries. Me and @queridaz lost our minds over this and I've still not finished season 5.

[musette22]

Your blog has been such a delight through the Berlinale festival! Any thoughts on how Chris might have reacted to Seb looking like an absolute dream in the all black ensemble? I wanted to devour him

Aww thank you, lovely! I feel like I totally missed everything but it was really good to see Sebastian at the Berlinale the other week!! ❤️ Oh yes, Sebastian did look SO good in that all black suit, didn't he? With the long, sleek hair and the rings and the beard, just.... ugh 😍

As for how Chris would have reacted to that look, I daresay there'd have been a lot of heated looks, and his hands would've been itching to peel Sebastian out of that suit again as soon as possible ❤️‍🔥 Oh man, imagine those two walking the red carpet together, hand in hand, both of them suited and booted and looking like absolute fire... What a power couple they'd be! 💘

[rewh0re]

okay so random thoughts, but: one "have you eaten yet?" *mystic messenger love interest voice*. secondly, if you message a wrong number and turns out it's geto suguru's number wyd now? thirdly, im out of thoughts now. hi hananananana ❤

I'm just answering both your asks together babe hope you don't mind<3333

I have eaten, yes. Uhm so for second question I don't even text on WhatsApp much tbh I stick to Instagram😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 but if that was the case then I'd prolly only keep the convo up if he does cuz idk I'm shit at that and until and unless someone is showing interest I don't talk much either so 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hugs and kisses for u too bae I have this college entrance tomorrow so uhm yea idek I don't really wanna get in this college idk why I applied but well here we are🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[reverieaudios]

THE ANSWER TO THE LAST ASK YOU RECEIVED TASTES LIKE ONE OF THOSE COPYPASTAS it gave me such a sense of deja vu too ???

also how would your characters fare in a rhythm game :) ( specifically project sekai if youve heard of it but if you havent just in general ) i need to know who i can make fun of

another thing , back when i first made my cyril design i showed my friend the wip and they said they wanted to adopt him and i thought that was funny

also happy belated birthday id make something but my daily 2hrs of good art time are up :(

BYEBYE HAVE NICE DAY ‼️

I realized I started to answer this but forgot to finish because I got distracted lol

Lmao that answer definitely feels like one, it's not one I've ever seen but who knows maybe it'll spread lol

And I feel like Casey and Ellis would probably enjoy/be pretty good at rhythm games. Roman probably would too, if he was ever made aware of their existence lmao

Careful if you're gonna adopt him, Cyril probably bites lol

And thank you! I hope you have a good day too!

[mvndrvke]

let me write stark family content damn it

[prael]

Cleaning Service

Kinktember Day 2: Maid Play

Aespa Karina x male reader smut

words: 4,000 Kinktember Masterlist

"Hey, babe?" You poke your head from the door of your home office. "What's with all the noise?"

Karina is hooking her head around the corner at the end of the hallway and calls back to you, "Noise? Oh, whoops! I was just sweeping the floor and dropped the brush. Sorry, sir."

"Sir?" you question under your breath as she disappears around the corner. "Whatever..." You retreat into the office once again, plopping down onto the comfy computer chair. You turn your focus back to the work documents in front of you. This lasts for all of two minutes before you hear a loud thumping noise once again from somewhere in the apartment.

You leave your chair, cross the room, and open the door, poking your head out in confusion once more. "Karina?" There is no reply. The hallway is quiet. The doors to the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are all closed. You take a step into the hall and you're greeted by the loud scraping of furniture on the floor from the living and dining room at the far end.

You advance towards the corner in apprehension, calling out again, "Karina? What's going on?"

She is half over the dining table and looking over her shoulder. "I'm still cleaning, sir. Sorry if I'm loud. I have been told that I'm too loud with everything I do." There's a lilt in her voice on those last words. Between that and her choice of dress, it is hard not to have your mind in the gutter.

"What the hell are you wearing?" You probably intended to ask that in your own head but you couldn't help but blurt it out. In reality, it's very clear what she is wearing, the better question would have been why is she wearing it, but it's too late for that.

"Sir, this is standard dress for a maid. I am the maid you hired after all. I'm here to give your big, long... hallway a long, hard, deep clean, right after I finish here in the dining room."

At this point, you haven't made eye contact for a single second of the conversation, too drawn to how her skirt is so short that not only can you see her panties, but you can see the bare skin of her lower back above them as she bends. Your gaze wanders down the backs of her tasty thighs and the gap between them.

Karina speaks again after a soft laugh at how you seem to be stunned, "Perhaps you would like to watch me work? Make sure that I don't miss a spot and get into all these... tight spaces?"

"Karina... I have work. I have to finish this paperwork..." you respond half-heartedly.

"Okay sir, if you don't want to watch, I can just keep working on my own." As you lean back on the wall by the corner, thinking, she bends forward, so that her ass rises into the air. "I promise not to make too much noise."

Working is a fool's errand, every time you hear something outside your office, you're reminded of what Karina is up to—of her ridiculous outfit. You want to watch her. There isn't enough blood in your brain for you to think clearly. And then the door opens. Brush in hand, Karina steps into the office and bends over to run the bristles across the floor in long sweeping strokes. It is impossible not to notice the slight sway in her hips.

You look away, turn, and focus back on your work. For a brief second, anyway. Her long and slightly wavy black hair hangs in front of her shoulder as she bends over to sweep, between the locks, the white low-cut lace frills of her outfit struggle to contain her chest. It's fitted so tight that they spill over, each sweep of her arms threatening to push them free.

You can't help it anymore. You steer into the skid and fuel the roleplay. "I expect every inch of this place swept, cleaned, and shined. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir, the place has to be clean, really clean. I am here to serve you to the best of my abilities."

"Clean this desk," you instruct simply, returning to your computer screen with a smug smirk, as though you are oblivious to the real intent of your words. You aren't really oblivious to it—you're relishing it. She is likely doing the same thing, of course. This is her plan. Her choice of outfit—from the black and white dress down to the choker on her neck has an intention behind it, and there's no point pretending that she isn't trying to seduce you.

She steps over next to you, duster in hand, and with exaggeratedly graceful gestures she dusts down the desk you work at. She reaches over you, to the far side, instead of walking around, this way she can push her chest right into your face. In between writing lines in an email, you check out the cleavage just inches from you. You breathe a gentle warm sigh right onto her.

Karina whines, softly, in your ear, and then speaks, "Oh master... It looks like there's some dirt I have to clean right"—Karina reaches down below the desk to grasp your trousers, over your bulge—"here. I know just what it needs. A nice spit-shine."

"I did hire you to clean everything," you smile. Karina settles down to her knees on the floor and then crawls under your desk. You spread your legs a little more to let her inside and roll your chair forward ever so slightly. You type your email; there are so many to work through, after all.

Her hands explore over your trousers until she is firmly clasping at you, massaging through your pants. "It's so dirty down here," Karina puts a feigned whine into her voice. "I'm going to have to get in there and really make it nice and clean, master."

Karina tugs at the zipper of your trousers and pulls it down, next she has your boxer shorts tugged down as well. She cradles you in her right hand, toying, feeling it grow harder in the palm of her hand. For some time, she playfully toys and strokes, squeezing and palming and groping all over. This is heaven.

"This is a really big job, sir, I do hope it's worth a nice, big tip. The maid likes to be rewarded well." You hear and feel the giggle against your inner thigh before she runs her wet, slick tongue all the way from the base of your length right up to the head. She spits onto it and collects it with her stroking hand, creating a smooth and slippery glide.

She uses her other hand to massage your balls, cupping and stroking them. She seems to work you over for so long without making a change and it has you wondering if she intends to use just her hand all the way. Her fingertips play over your sensitive cock, teasing, working you into a fever. Your fingertips brush the keyboard, working away while your cock is worked over, a display of inhuman self-control.

"Are you going to be a good maid and clean it for me, or just play with it all day?" Your hand wanders to the top of her head to rub her.

"Sorry master, I have been known to enjoy my job a little too much at times. Don't worry, I will have your dick all cleaned and polished right away." Karina doesn't waste another second, before her mouth engulfs you, sinking down onto you, wet and soft and slippery, hotter than even the warmth of her hands had been, her lips gliding down on you and wrapping snugly.

Your fingers tap wildly over the keyboard. She runs her lips and tongue all along your shaft as she moves down and then up. Every movement causes your toes to curl, and your body to arch forward in your seat. The movements cause your hands to slow over the keyboard. "Good girl."

Karina grabs and caresses your thigh in silent appreciation. It tickles more than anything, making you writhe ever so slightly, but that just sends you deeper into the warmth and wetness. It is absolute bliss, the smooth, warm feeling enveloping your entire shaft.

Her hands kneed your upper thighs as she pushes her head down all the way, before coming up to gasp for air, catching her breath, and then descending back onto you with eagerness. In a moment like this, you can feel every little thing she shoes with her mouth. She plays her tongue over your tip and you grip the keyboard as if you plan to twist it in half. You stare straight ahead blankly, knowing that if you were to look down, you would be a lost cause.

That tongue swirls and twists around the head, a feat that cannot go unacknowledged. You reach down with one hand and tangle up in her soft, silken black hair and push her harder. It's all the direction she needs as she brings the full heat and pressure of her mouth down into your lap, bobbing up and down rapidly. She is drooling all over you. Your fingers are gently caressing her as her tongue draws all sorts of sensations over your flesh.

At last, the task is done and you hit enter and fire off your email. Just in time to grip the arm of your chair. " Fuck..." you exhale under your breath. Karina hums happily as your cock hits the back of her throat, sending ripples through you, driving you ever closer. Harder she sucks, desperate to suck you clean. Your mouth goes dry, and a violent shiver courses through your body, toes and fingers tingling. "I'm going to..." you exhale as a shiver rushes over you, eyes widening, pleasure mounting, peaking.

You tremble. Then, your eyes shut and you squeeze into a fistful of hair. You let out a low, long growl and thrust your hips forward, grunting. You cum, right down the back of Karina's throat, and she works you the entire time, sucking down every drop of you into herself. This is ecstasy. You could float right up away through the roof and into the sky at any minute.

Karina bobs her head for a short time, the intense sensitivity is almost unbearable, every second, every stroke is an overload to your system, but she won't give in into you have released every drop. Finally, she pulls her mouth away. Your whole body sags in relief as Karina leans her face against your thigh. "I trust my work has satisfied?" she whispers, and all you can do is nod. "Then I should continue my other tasks."

Karina crawls out from under your desk, and as she stands, she wipes around her mouth with her fingers. Her lip gloss is smeared at the sides of her lips, her cheeks reddened and her hair messy, but she still gives you the most beautiful smile. She stands straight and neatens her dress. 

"Where was I... Ah, yes, I should dust the shelves. Sir." You roughly pull up your trousers and underwear and watch as Karina retrieves her duster and sets about her work. You look back at your screen but she's still there in the periphery, standing on her tiptoes as she dusts, the hem of her little dress not even half-covering her perky ass. "Don't let me distract you, sir, work hard. Really, really hard."

What else were you meant to do? You watch Karina as she dances around, dusting in a way that doesn't even clean anything. Everything else has become unimportant, apart from the curves of her body moving in front of you. You could sit there all day, watching her, and, well, that's probably just what Karina wants. She has effectively just said don't try to do any work, sit there and think about fucking me instead.

A few emails later she's still there, leaning to reach the lower shelves, arching her back and showing you everything. Your commitment wanes by the second, just staring, thinking and wanting, it's like torture. "How can I focus while you're just there? In front of me?" You ask her directly at last, leaving your chair, walking past and watching her over her shoulder, pressing a kiss onto the side of her neck.

"What's wrong, sir? Have I done something wrong? Please don't fire me, I'll do anything." You stand directly behind her, nose in her neck, your hands resting on her hips, before sliding down and cupping her round ass. Karina fakes a stammer in her voice, "Sir, that's... that's..."

She doesn't resist. Your hands slip between her legs and stroke her underwear. You can feel how wet she is by just grazing over her. "I didn't hire you to be pretty, slutty and wet, you know? I hired you to work."

Karina pushes back into you, grinding against your fingers, wanting more than a tease. "Sir, I thought those were the only reasons you hired me."

You grip the band of her panties, before tugging them down her thighs. Karina grips the bookshelf, pushing her ass out towards you. "You really want to earn a tip?"

"Yes sir, a big, hard, throbbing, long tip..." Karina purrs, squirming against you, trying to get some stimulation where she needs it most, pushing her wet slit back towards you.

You plant one firm palm between her shoulder blades, using a hard force to pin her against the bookcase. Your fingertips travel down between her legs and you slip one inside her, causing her to inhale sharply through clenched teeth.

You follow this with another. They slide right in with a groan. You whisper in her ear, "How can a maid clean when she is so dirty? Look at the mess you are dripping down your leg." You say that with a tinge of aggression even if you're really happy about it. "It's going to get on my floor. The very floor you should be keeping clean."

"I can mop it all up. I'm so sorry." Her voice is an irresistible plea as you massage her soaked insides. "You can even make a mess of me if you want, then I will clean it all up. You will think I'm the very best maid."

"Want to be a good maid?" You spit onto the floor by her foot. "Get down there and clean that up. Quick." Karina immediately descends and begins licking your saliva off the floor.

You lower to your own knees, right behind her, and push your trousers down again, pulling your hardened, still-wet, cock free once more. Karina's licks are frantic—even if there's nothing left on the floor, you order her to continue until it's spotless while you take hold of her hips in a firm, dominant grasp.

You guide her body as needed as you press yourself against her pussy, running your stiffened cock over her flesh. "You clean that floor well and I'll give you a very... very big tip."

"Yes sir," is a repeated series of eager replies punctuated by soft groans, as you grind your shaft against her, lubing yourself up with her sticky juices. She shudders in your grasp and quivers every time the tip of your cock brushes across her clit.

Her attention falters with each one, causing her tongue to get slower. "Keep... Cleaning. You're not done yet." You hold your cock right at her entrance, and she pushes back, a subtle attempt to get you in her, she gets as much as the first inch before you pull back out.

Karina cries out at the teasing, "Nooo, please, put it inside me, sir." She glances back at you, and there's a glaze over those hazel eyes. Desperation.

"Keep licking," you tease Karina, pushing the head of your cock into her and out, never quite fucking her but driving her crazy. "Show me how clean you can get my floor. Then I'll fuck you... Hard... You want that, don't you?"

"Yes," she pants and shivers, unable to even formulate more of a sentence.

You reach up for the back of her dress, the black fabric held together by a white string, which you easily pull free. You keep pulling and it all unwinds from her, exposing her beautiful pale skin down to her lower back. Her breathing speeds as the reality sets in, you're taking control, pulling off her clothing, baring her. You grab the dress, yanking it down her body, and she doesn't even wear a bra so those heavy tits hang freely.

You return a palm to her upper back, pinning her to the floor. You readjust your position behind her.

Now she is near-nude, pressed flush against the cold and wet floor, and you're leaning over her. You steady your grasp back on her waist, taking her firmly. "What do you want?"

"I want payment for my services, sir, in the form of a big, hot load in my slutty, little pussy," Karina moans. She feels vulnerable now, underneath you as you lean over her back.

You begin to press inside her, feeling all of that clinging wetness, hearing her little noises. Slowly at first, before increasing your intensity, driving inside of her all the way. As you do, you speak over her, "Paid in sex? Paid in cum? And where will it go after we're done?"

"I'll keep it inside me, sir, so there's no mess. You can even dump it all inside my ass, and then I will make sure it all stays there." Karina quivers under you, her back is so slender and delicate, smooth as silk. You run your fingers across her spine and see her skin ripple and her butt rise slightly upwards in response.

"Think I might just do that then..." You begin to build up a rhythm inside her, picking up momentum. She seems so delicate and weak under you, everything Karina usually is not. She's whimpering already, a sign of how desperately horny she is, how she wants to be yours. You grip the soft flesh of her ass and then give a slap with your palm, leaving a red mark.

"Thank you, sir." There's a sincere sense of submission in Karina, which you drink up. She enjoys this change of pace just as much as you do.

You slip a thumb between her cheeks and run it up and down her crack. You prod her hole, eliciting another high-pitched whine from her lips and her insides tighten around you which feels fucking amazing. You gather more of the sticky juices leaking down from her pussy, moistening your thumb further and begin pressing your finger more firmly into her, inching the first knuckle up inside her ass.

With each press inside, a squeal leaves her lips, though her words beg for more, "Give me more, sir, don't stop, it's so good... Thank you!"

Karina is reacting like crazy, it is unlike her to be this sensitive, in the moment, she doesn't allow anyone to control her, but this is everything to her now. You push deeper into her, and deeper, and with a little more resistance, all the way inside. Now you're pressed to the hilt, all the way inside Karina's pussy, and thumb-deep inside her ass at the same moment, drawing more delicious, delicate noises from her, turning your beautiful domineering woman into a helpless mess of blissful whimpers.

Keeping your length inside her, you work your thumb with a twist and a push and you let your spit spill onto her hole, slicking it and making the movement smoother. You use your spare hand to brush over the cheeks and grope. Karina trembles violently, moaning, pushing herself backwards on your digit. She loves having you deep inside her like this, both holes stuffed.

There are so many things that you could say, so many taunts, so many vulgar things, but to bask in the revelry of Karina being a messy submissive girl is to not even need to say them, her expressions, noises, reactions and the pure depravity of it are more than enough for you. This is it.

This is it.

You pull from her cunt and cock back your thumb, ready to replace it with all the pumped-up eagerness of a man possessed, and then you spread her wide. Little to stop you as you slide forward, plunging into the warm and snug grip of her ass. She cries out in response to your breach, making those cute, sexy noises all over again, as you slowly slide into her, gritting your own teeth and groaning as you bury yourself completely within the grip of Karina's asshole, every bit as intense and delightful as you knew it would be.

"God you've got the best ass," you say with a growl. "Fit to take everything I have."

Karina could say anything, sarcastic or clever, or maybe something born out of depravity, but she can barely summon up anything more than an approving murmur. The kind of sound a girl makes when her mind isn't here anymore, focused on a single, wonderful feeling—being stuffed and stretched out.

Your hands caress the supple skin of Karina's ass as you begin to withdraw, holding the soft flesh between your fingers and taking handfuls of her.

Karina clutches, clawing at the floor, but says nothing, letting the sensations take her away, overwhelmed. Just her moans and the deep gasping breath through her nose as you roll your hips into her, grinding and stroking over her and causing her to go so rigid and tense. Her eyes roll back as you lose yourself within her.

A rhythm forms and you're barrelling towards giving her the mess she wants inside her ass. She strains to say, "Fuck my ass. Fuck it. Fuck it and then fill it. Want you so deep. Want all that cum."

Your fingernails dig in, gouging red scratches on her pale ass cheeks as you squeeze her tighter. Karina's hole grows snugger and hotter by the second as if the warmth and depth were begging for what Karina had voiced—an ass full of cum. You certainly want that, and the faster and rougher your hips work the closer it is. "Love filling all your tight holes."

"Do it, cum," Karina moans.

Hard and fast it arrives, the need that you can't prevent. You erupt within her. Violent spasms accompany your filling of her ass, of what must be the most satisfying, taboo orgasm of your life (so far). She takes it all so beautifully, moaning and squealing as she fills up.

No mess. None at all. "So full," she whines. No mess but the one in her.

You lean down, head at her shoulder as you catch your breath, and she cranes her head to nuzzle against you, reaching up to touch your cheek and make eye contact with you through heavy-lidded, satisfied eyes. In that gaze, she doesn't have a smirk or any sort of mischief, just a pleased look of joy, appreciation, and perhaps even a desire for more. You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't say you shared the feeling.

You leave her there, slumped onto the floor, ass in the air. Her little maid outfit is barely even affixed to her body anymore, crumpled and hanging around her midsection. The skin of her ass still bears the marks of your nails. She remains where you have left her. Karina's face and breasts smudge and push against the floor with each breath she takes. The room smells of sex, her, the two of you.

"Clean yourself up. Clean my office up," you instruct her while buckling yourself back up before heading for the door.

Karina coughs once, then admits, "I don't know if I can manage that. Maybe we need a real maid."

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo doing things for his new love interests that you begged him for while you were married.

After a joint meeting between the sister schools, you overheard Suguru asking him who he was texting during the meeting.

Satoru replied, "Just letting my date know I'll be a bit late tonight since we ran long here. Todo can yap, huh?"

"Seriously!" Their voices faded as they walked down the hall.

You stood just outside the meeting room watching the corner the disappeared around. If you had to pinpoint the number one reason your marriage failed - more than clan pressure, more than the strain of being young parents, more than back to back to back missions - it would be the fact that Satoru can't communicate for shit.

Part of it wasn't his fault. His brain just didn't work like that. An inconvenient side effect of limitless is that everything makes sense in your head, but it's hard for a person with the gift to explain their thoughts to others.

So the no-call, no-shows to dinners was technically a side effect of limitless, as was his inability to articulate his feelings like an adult or the fact that he would just do things without even telling you there was a problem in the first place.

"Quit doing that with your face, brat." Sukuna emerges from the meeting room. He's out of his Ryomen form at the moment, as he usually is during meetings so that he can actually fit in his chair. "How long are you gonna let what he does affect you?"

"It doesn't!" you insist.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. "If that helps you sleep at night."

Imagine reminding yourself that you can't be mad at him.

You're seeing other people now, too. Hell, you've been divorced for over a decade, it's insanity that you care at all.

It's just. You never doubted his love for you. Not for a second, not even now that your marriage failed and you largely raised your son on your own.

"Mom?"

Maybe your divorce was his motivation to be better. You're not sure. But if he's capable of change, capable of being attentive and communicative, why couldn't he change for you all those years ago?

"Mom."

Could it be that you were his childhood companion and he loved you, but he was never in love with you? Was his love for you less than your love for him?

You hardly notice your son calling out to you until he springs into action. "Mom!" Sen nudges you away from the stove to turn of the burner. When did smoke fill the kitchen? The roux you were trying to make was burnt to a crisp, stuck to the pan and emanating an unpleasant smell.

Sen gently pries your hands off the handle and drops the ruined pan in the sink to soak. Then he makes sure the burner's off before turning to you with a conflicted expression.

He may have inherited a hybrid of both your and Satoru's personal brands of emotional stuntedness, but he could put two and two together between how distracted you've been and the rumors of Satoru dating again - What with it being huge news among jujutsu society (aka power hungry clans with eligible daughters.) Your son had his own complicated feelings regarding his father and as much as he'd prefer Satoru stay away from you, it hurt him to see you like this.

Though, watching you try to keep a stiff upper lip for his sake during the divorce is the reason he doesn't want his father anywhere near you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You wipe your hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't paying attention. Hang tight while I make you something else."

He could kill Satoru right now. But you wouldn't like that, so he won't.

"Mama, I--" He shuts his mouth. You've been protecting him from the details of the divorce his whole life. What did he know about comforting you? But while he may not have been able to protect you then, he can sure as hell try now.

"Mama, why don't I take you out to dinner? My treat."

Imagine that Sen decides he needs to stop having ideas.

He brought you to a local okonomiyaki that you've been going to since he was little to the point where the owners knew you well and liked to give you little extras from the kitchen. Today's treat was a side of pickled radish.

It was your happy little hideaway. Away from jujutsu and clans and curses and your broken home.

Sen insisted on cooking the okonomiyaki for you, saying that, "My treats means I'll take care of everything!" The weak smile you gave him made his heart soar.

You giggle while he jokes around and tells you about school like how Hikari fell asleep for 45 minutes out of an hour long test and still got a better score than him. Hearing about your son and his happy school days always made you feel better.

Sen was ready to give himself a pat on the back for cheering you up when he hears the front bell jungle and a woman's laughter carries over.

"Fancy places are like that, though!" the woman laughs. "They give a bite of food per plate."

Then a familiar voice replies, "Yeah, but it was good, wasn't it? And now we get to fill up at a cute place like this."

Even though he's the one facing the door and not you, the look on your face tells Sen all he needs to know. What breaks his heart is that you've sunk lower into your seat to make yourself smaller.

Sen could kill his father right now.

Hooray, angst!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]