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just-some-random-blogger · 2 months

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Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."

#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon angst #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x modern!reader #hotd time travel au #hotd au #daemon crackfic #harwin fanfic #harwin strong fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #otto hightower fanfic #otto fanfic

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buckysegan · 1 month

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With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two

Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.

John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.

It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.

With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.

Dear Friend From Home

You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you.

I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might.

There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that.

May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return.

If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time.

With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration

Major John Egan

“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.”

With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”

The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.

At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.

Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.

"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.

An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.

Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.

"Dear Major Egan,

I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"

#john egan x reader #john egan #master of the air #mota #mota drabble #callum turner #bucky egan

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chansdoll · 11 months

Note

idkk if you write about 9th member reader but if you do can you please write your thoughts about shy 9th member reader x stray kids where they just want to show her how much they love her and they keep touching her everywhere and at any time but the reader is so shy especially when they are doing a live infront of millions watching making her sit on their lap… okay you can complete from here 😭 thank youuu 🫶🏻

A/n: omg i love it so cute 🥺

Yes i write with 9th member.

I listened to Conan Gray while i wrote, well i teared up quite a few times...

Okay i think i got carried away sorry.

Warnings: none

~~~

♡ They are head over heels for you. You are their princess/ prince, whom they love babying, and spoiling.

♡ One of them is always with you, one of them is always touching you, one of them is always indulging you somehow.

♡ Between the eight boy, and under their love you are so shy. They never had a bad or loud word to you. They always all over you.

♡ Chan, who always watching out for you. He helps you with anything even when he is busy, or tired. He puts you to bed if you want to stay awake with him, or sits you on his lap in his studio while he works. He just softly chukles when you blushing because of it. He always comforts you if you are feeling down. Chan always makes sure, that his members are okay. He is the sweetest.

♡ Minho, who always bullying and roasting you, but out of love. He never wants to hurt you. Once, on your early says as a team, he roasted you, and you cried, because you tought that he was serious. After that he almost begged on his knees to you to accept his apology. After that he cuddled with you, and showed you pics and videos of cute baby cats or animals. This habit of his remained all over the years.

♡ Changbin who wants you to go to the gym with him, so he can admire you while he works out. (And of course, you can see him showing off his muscles) He likes to make you laugh, even if his jokes are bad. His favorite thing is to give kisses on the back of your hand. Of course you blush like crazy, even after these years.

♡ Hyunjin always paints you, and the pics you have on their official instagram page, was made by Hyunjin. All of them. He thinks of you as his muse. He loves to listen to you singing, while you caress his hair. He often brings you coffe in the mornings, along with pastry. And you do that for him too. He is often tickles you. And sometimes you roast him with Minho. But of course lovingly.

♡ Han, who always steals your secret snacks, but then buys you new snacks. He loves to see you eat, and he always looks for you if he has food. You often watch animes with him, and cuddle with him. Felix often joins to the cuddling. Han loves to dance with you, and he wants you to dance with him to the music of Howl's Moving Castle.

♡ Felix who always makes sure that you are eating enough. He feeds you, whether you want or not. He often helps you with the coreography. You two are the crybabies of the group. You two often go to zoos, or he likes to go shopping with you, because sometimes he needs the opinion of a girl.

♡ Seungmin who is the other member who loves to roast you. But learning from Minho's case, he always do it softer and cuter. He knows how cute he is, and he often uses it against you. He loves to attack you from behind, and hugging you tightly. He plays tag with you on the stage, what's in the end is a big chaos now including the other members too.

♡ Jeongin, who always gives you his hoodie or coat, the weather doesn't matter. He is younger than you, but he always babies you too, along with the members. He often poses for pics with you. He loves to draw you cute doodles, everywhere where he knows you will see it.

♡ You are their most important, most precious person. They are always have to be close to you.

♡ During lives, they are fighting (of course in the funny way) that in whos lap should you sit. And while they are trying to decide, you are standing there, blushing in front of the camera.

♡ The stays love how the guys are treating you. And they are admire you too.

Requests are opeen

My masterlist

🩷

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hippiepowrs · 1 month

Text

patchwork

eddie munson x (implied) metalhead!reader

eddie wants to add a new patch to his vest but hates sewing.

a/n: thank you for the love on my first fic!!! this one is based on the fact that i think eddie would be bad at sewing. like he could be good at it but it's funnier to think that he's not. also you will probably see a lot of metalhead!reader from me bc it's self indulgent and there's just not enough of it.

warnings: fluff. gn!reader. sewing needles (obviously). one mention of blood/vague mentions of eddie stabbing himself with sewing needles. established relationship. no reader pronouns. no use of y/n. use of "babe," "baby," and "sweetheart" as nicknames from both. playful bickering. eddie is a biter and impatient as fuck. swearing. sort of eddie's pov i guess?

wc: 877

Eddie is good with his hands. It’s undeniable. Between chords, riffs, strumming, and picking, his calloused fingers know how to move, and they know it well.

But the one thing he always struggled with was sewing.

To him, sewing was like the devil. A necessary evil in his life, but evil nonetheless.

There’s a reason his vest has always stayed so empty. Well, a few, but the main one is the fact that his fingers can never get the needle to move quite how he wants it to. He’s always stabbing himself so hard it draws blood, somehow. One time the needle went clean through. He was able to crack it for long enough to get his back patch on, and one or two more, but then he decided he’d be able to live with it like that. At least for a while.

But now he has you. You, the beautiful thing laying on the floor of his bedroom. You, the one with a cooler vest than him. He can’t let that slide for much longer, can he? He finds himself trying to sew on a new patch he got up in Indy, but he’s already giving up.

“Babe,” He calls from atop his bed, “can you sew this for me?” He gives you that look. The one where he tilts his chin down and looks up at you with his big, wet eyes and bats his eyelashes when he wants something.

“You can’t finish it yourself?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice that he’s keen to pick up on.

“It’s–ugh… it’s just not going well.” He sighs, frustration showing.

You stand up from your place on the floor and snake into the spot next to him on the mattress, getting as close as you can without sitting on top of him.

“Baby, you have like… five stitches done.” You say, looking up at him with a sarcastically annoyed glare.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, though.” He pouts, playing it up like he always does.

You hesitate for a moment, not sure whether to argue or just accept it.

“Ugh, fine. Give it to me.” You pretend to be annoyed, but in all honesty, you can’t help but adore that he relies on you for things like this. It’s weirdly sweet, just like him. You’re able to quickly get into the groove of stitching the patch on, up and down, out and in. It’s relaxingly repetitive, but Eddie is looming next to you. He’s leaning over, a little too close, mesmerized by the way your hands work.

“Ed, can you get out of my fucking face?” You say playfully. He leans back a little to watch from a distance for a minute before leaning in and sinking his teeth into your shoulder. “Ow, you dick.”

He’s as impatient as ever. You can feel the way he’s practically vibrating beside you as he waits for you to finish with the stitching.

“Go do something,” You tell him, knowing you’re only halfway done, and he won’t last at this rate.

“But I wanna watch.” He pouts again.

“Put some music on at least, please?” You ask, putting on a softer tone so you know he’ll get up and do it.

When he reaches his tape deck, he starts shuffling through his collection, trying to find the one that calls out to him. The previous album you were listening to finished a while ago, and neither of you were bothered enough to get up and change it. Eddie finds the cassette he was looking for, and pops it in with a grin.

It’s the mixtape he made for you for your third date. A little corny, he knows. But, he’d never really gone out with anyone before he went out with you, and he didn’t want to fuck it up. Especially not when he found the coolest person to ever grace this horrible town.

Your third date was a night that he’ll never forget. He picked flowers out of the rich neighborhoods’ front gardens, made a glorious mixtape out of all the music you guys talked about loving, and showed up to your house on time. That’s big for him.

He took you out to a real dinner. It might’ve just been the little Italian place on Main Street, but Eddie made sure to save extra cash for the week leading up so that he had enough to pay for you.

And now here you are, sitting on his bed, sewing for him. It’s so domestic that he thinks he’s going to explode. The way you’re so comfortable in his space, and you’re so comfortable around him.

“I’m done, babe.” You softly call to him, holding up his prized possession to show your handiwork.

His eyes widen when he sees you, the giant smile on your face, so proud of yourself—and an even bigger grin breaks out on his own. He almost tackles you onto the bed, engulfing you in one of the most aggressive, warmest hugs he’s ever given you.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” His voice is muffled in the hug, but he makes his point clear by littering your cheek with kisses. With one big smack of his lips on your skin, he mumbles, “God, I love you.”

reblogs and notes always appreciated! | requests are open!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic

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eh-what-blog1 · 10 months

Text

Negan x reader smut

♡Hey everyone! Here's a smut based on a request I got recently...I hope I did it justice!! If you have any more requests, please leave 'em with me <3

Warnings: vibrator play, Negan being Negan, dirty talk, afab reader, overstimulation, penetration mentioned, tears of pleasure referenced, dominant Negan, also his softer side comes out a little!

♡ You decide to tell Negan some valuable information you found out earlier in the day. He appreciates it and wants to reward you for telling him.

You felt nervous as you stand in the ominous looking meeting room. Negan sits confidently at the foot of the large table, his feet stretched out onto the glass as he crosses his legs. You can't help but eye up Lucille, leaning against the dreary grey walls, covered in splotches of dark blood. You shyly look down at your shaky hands, examining your fingers for the sake of keeping distacted from the long silence hanging between you both.

You don't know how the unpredictable man is going to respond to what you just told him. You witnessed Simon, his right hand man, going about the Sanctuary like he owned the place earlier today. He confidently strutted around, talking the big talk on how he wanted to kill Negan and take over as leader. Your heart dropped after hearing him discuss his plan with random Saviors.

You don't know why you felt the need to tell Negan this, but it must have been due to your feelings towards him. You always had an attraction to him... you liked how confident he was, how he presented himself... even his dirty sense of humour amused you. Not to mention how you swooned every time his dimples became promimant as he spoke.

Suddenly, he speaks up, snapping you away from your thoughts.

"So...you wanna know what I think?" *he sighs as his deep voice rumbles through you, making you shiver in your place. You look up to see him staring intensely at you, leaning back in his chair casually while you shyly play around with your fingers. You meet his gaze hopefully, eyes twinkling up at him.

Instead of directly telling you, he laughs to himself as he gets up from his chair. The sound runs through your body, making you shiver as he confidently walks towards you, invading your space. You can't help but look up at him as he smiles widely at you, those dimples showing like you always loved. A blush spreads across your face instantly, feeling shy under his strict gaze.

"I think..." He says slowly, letting his words draw out. "that you've been very good..coming to me and telling me all this"

As he speaks, he let's his rough hand come up to your face, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Very, very good..." He continues, his voice somehow a lot deeper and sultry than it was before. You gulp softly as you continue to look up into his dark hazel eyes. There is a clear tension building up and you feel yourself becoming weaker as he towers over you dominantly.

"Are you a good girl? Is that why you came and told me all this?"

Your eyes flutter closed for a moment as his words send an ache straight down to your already needy core. His presence alone can have you dripping wet with need and you feel your underwear hugging tightly against your wet little pussy as he speaks to you, craving his large, rough hands all over your body. You can't fathom a response and he smirks knowing how he's making you feel.

"I reward good girls...do you know that?" He presses on, not breaking eye contact for a single second as he searches your eyes for a response. You hum out in response, a simple 'mmm' leaving your mouth as a little whine rather than a sound of acknowledgement. This makes him smirk again as he goes to whisper in your ear.

"How about you sit your pretty little ass on that table and give me a second" he utters confidently, his voice a little rough. You recognise that it is not a question, it is a demand. You blush wildly and nod in compliance, quickly making your way over to the table, your skirt riding up your legs slightly. You enjoy the sensation of the cold glass pressing against the heat of your soft thighs as you watch the man open up one of the large cabinets, pulling something out with a low laugh of amusement. Nervously, you look down into your lap as he walks back over to you, stopping right in front of where you're sitting.

He gazes at you with fervour, an inappropriate expression painted on his face as he observes you intensely. He suddenly shakes an object in front of your eyes, forcing you to look up at it with a shy look on your face. It's a pink, medium-sized object, a rod shape. It also has a few small buttons etched onto the side of it. Immediately, you know what it is. Despite your inexperience in the area, you know straight away that he's holding a vibrator right in front of your eyes. The sight makes you gulp as you connect your thoughts, realising what he meant by "reward"

"Hm? Would you like that..? Want me to press this between your legs..?"

His voice sends chills down your spine as you squeeze your thighs together needily, noticeably wanting to give into his offer. He was serious about this...

"M-mmm...Negan..." You say his name softly, your voice coming out a little more needy than you would have liked. That's the confirmation he needs from you as you whimper out your reply, seeing him smirk as he bites his lip a small bit at the sight of you sitting there so vulnerable on his table.

Suddenly, you feel his strong hands grazing along your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling. His thumb brushes against the soft skin as he pushes your legs apart, making room for him to step between them. You're in a very desperate state as he kneads your sensitive flesh, making your face heat up even more than before. Your mind starts racing as you feel him hiking your skirt up, revealing your soaked panties.

"Goddamn! Look at that...you're fucking soaked..."

His crude words make you whimper softly as he plays with the hem of your panties, your eyes fully taken over by the desire you feel for him.

N-Negan...I...

You try to speak as he languidly pulls your panties down, yet they protest a bit as they hug around your sweet little clit and soft, puffy lips. A string of slick connects your panties to your needy core as he slips them down your ankles.

Without saying anything, he looks down at you, meeting your gaze for a moment. His dark eyes are full of desire and so are yours. He shakes his head at you a little bit, showing his satisfaction with how needy you are, almost in disbelief regardless of how confident he is in his ability to woo women. This is another level.

He uncharacteristically stays quiet as he grabs the pink vibrator, examining it for a moment before turning it on. A loud buzz fills the room, and your eyes flutter closed as you anticipate what's about to happen. It makes you feel so weak and dizzy as the man looks down on you, sliding his hand up your stomach and pressing you down so you're flat on the table. He pushes your legs out some more, leaving your sensitive core fully displayed for him. You see his expression shift again as his eyes fill with even more desire.

"Mmm...you're not gonna know what's hit you in a second" he says smugly as he presses the object against your inner thigh, slowly letting it drift up towards where you need it most.

"N-Negan..please..I.." Your voice is weak and soft as he looks down, observing your reactions as the vibrator buzzes against you. He teases you for a little longer before pulling it away. You close your eyes for a moment, thinking he's stopping to tease you more. That was until you suddenly felt the object pressing snug against your clit. Your eyes widen immediately as it buzzes loudly against your bundle of nerves, causing you to moan needily.

O-oh God...

You whimper and whine as he presses it against you, holding you down with his hand as you start to squirm a little bit

"Look at you...I couldn't just let you leave here with nothing after telling me such important information, right?" His voice sends shivers down your spine, so deep and rough.

You whimper in response as he holds the vibrator flush against your clit, sometimes letting it drift away from that spot for a second just to tease you.

"God girl I want to bury my dick inside of you so bad...get you all messy"

As soon as the dirty words leave his mouth, your eyes widen a little bit. "P-please...please can you..?" You try your best not to sound shaky, but between every breath you whimper needily at the man.

"What? This isn't good enough for you?" He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling widely as he's clearly amused by his own comment. He wiggles the vibrator against your pussy teasingly.

Suddenly, he presses one of the buttons, and the vibrations get a lot stronger. You whimper out again, not able to stop yourself from reaching your arm out, gripping the end of the table with your shaky fingers. It hasn't taken long for you to get close to your climax as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You screw your eyes shut, and your breath becomes hot and heavy. He notices how you shake and whimper as you approach your orgasm.

"That's it, darlin'. Cum for me...that's it" his deep voice coaxes your orgasm as his words tip you over the edge. You moan his name desperately as you feel your legs shaking slightly from the strong vibrations to your core. As you relax through your high, enjoying the feeling running through your body, you start to feel another feeling taking you over. You notice that Negan still hasn't removed the vibrator, keeping it nestled onto your clit.

"N-Negan.." You say his name softly, a touch of curiosity in your tone as well as a little overwhelmed strain. He laughs a little to himself again, clearly amused as you squirm about. The feeling on your clit makes you wriggle in his grasp as he holds you there. Despite the overwhelming feeling, you enjoy the overstimulation to your sensitive core. You cry out desperately.

"Shhh...shh...I know doll, I know..." He reassures you a little as he continues, pressing the pink vibrator flush against you as your eyes water from the feeling.

"Hmm? That's good, isn't it..? You like that feeling?" His voice is rough as he speaks, so deep and sultry. It drives you wild as he doesn't give up with his attack on your sensitive little pussy. You can only nod your head messily as you feel a wave of pleasure shoot through you again, your second orgasm is already soon approaching. Your eyes continue to water as the overstimulation gets to you.

"I know...I know...it feels so good, hm? You like what I'm doing to you, darlin'?" You nod your head desperately again as he gazes down at you intensely. He seems to be a little softer now as he coaxes yet another orgasm from you.

"Such a good girl...cum for me again, let it all out..."

His words tip you over the edge for a second time as you screw your eyes closed, your orgasm hitting you even harder than the first. The tears prick in your eyes with pleasure as you shake again under his grasp, loving how good it feels. You moan his name over and over again, letting our desperate whimpers and whines as you let yourself go for him.

A few seconds pass as you lie there, shaking and messy as you coat part of the table in your slick.

"Mmmm, you took that so well.." Negan says roughly as he pushes the vibrator away from you, switching it off and placing it on the table. It was like he was experimenting a bit with you, seeing how much pleasure you could take.

You lie against the cold table, your breath hot and fast as your heart rate slowly starts to come down. You can't help but reach out to him, overstepping a bit of a boundary, but you want to feel him close especially after that. Your face is bright red and your painted with a satisfied and joyful expression, in disbelief of what just happened.

He doesn't give you any weird look as you reach out, sitting yourself upright. Instead, he reaches out to your waist, wrapping his strong arms around you as he lifts you up from the table, settling you down onto his lap as he sits down. You don't expect it at all, but you don't question him as you relax in his arms. You let out a soft sigh.

"T-thank you...that was..amazing" you utter gently, your voice barely above a whisper as exhaustion takes over.

"Well, I had to reward you, didn't I?" His voice is low and he seems uncharacteristically a little softer as he speaks to you. You enjoy it as you relax even more, closing your eyes.

Maybe this could be the start of something interesting...

#negan x reader #negan smith smut #negan smith #negan smut #negan twd smut #negan x reader smut #negan x you #twd smut #smut #fandomsmut

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Note

Hii, I was wondering if you could possibly write about what kind of p*rn you think Ghost and König like? (And other characters if you want! )it’s just been floating around my head for days and you’re one of my favorite writers. If not, that’s totally fine! 💛💛💛

MW2 and Their P0rn Preferences

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of P0rn0graphy (none shown), Mention of Poor Mental Health, P0rn w/ Feelings, P0rn w/o Feelings, BDSM, Knife Play, Breeding Kink, Historical P0rn, Mention of Hardcore Lesbian P0rn, Mentions of Masturbation, University Lecturer/Student Relationship, Body Worship, Daddy Kink, Sadism, Mentions of Torture P0rn, Mention of Sex Tape, Mention of Insecurity, Mention of Alcohol, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Profanity, etc.

A/N: Tysm, Anon <3 ! Also, I’ve changed any mentions of the subject material to p0rn as to skirt around any potential censorship issues.

Ghost:

Given the absolute S T A T E of this man’s mental health, I think he secretly watches p0rn for the plot.

No, really. I mean he genuinely watches p0rn for the storyline; though not just any storyline.

It has to have feeling, romance. Love.

Though he’d never, ever, EVER admit it, he watches it to fill an emotional void in his life rather than a sexual one (ejaculation is just a bonus - he sees it as more of a duty to his body’s needs rather than his personal ones).

Definitely favours p0rn where it features a couple who have reunited after a long stretch of time and…well, have at it.

He found that there’s a startling lack of this in the men’s category, though, so he goes and finds it in the women’s because p0rn there is a lot softer, much more sensual, and doesn’t feel as creepy.

Ghost isn’t a fan of typical straight p0rnography; he thinks it’s too violent and unrealistic.

Instead, he watches ones where the couple aren’t just fucking or having sex - they’re making love.

And, really, beneath all the death and decay and bloodshed his life has become buried under, Ghost wants what those couples have.

Maybe if he knows you and likes you, he’ll jack off to the thought of you in those situations with him - absolutely even more so if you’re his partner.

Ghost would NEVER divulge the actual p0rnography he consumes - not even to Soap.

Whenever the guys back at Base would try and draw the truth out of him - Johnny especially - he’d tell them to “Pipe the fuck down” and “Get back to work.”

However, if he were a little loose-lipped via the aid of booze, he’ll cast the 141 a false line.

And when Johnny comes asking him what his preferences are again, Ghost won’t even cast him a second glance as the lie spills between his lips as he, Simon Riley, with all the conviction of a man accused of a false crime, says “Hardcore lesbian.”

And nobody will think to even question it.

König:

If he’s in a dom mood, something hardcore, though nothing outright sadistic; especially if he’s just returned from a mission.

Instead it’ll be, at most, some bondage, maybe some marking here and there - really nothing too wild.

He saves that for when he’s with you.

On the contrary, if he’s feeling a little raw from his time away but still needs to relieve himself, he’ll watch something similar to Ghost in that whatever he chooses to jank himself off to has to have a storyline. And love.

Though, his may be just a smidge more softcore than Ghost’s in that maybe the more dominantly perceived of the couple bottoms on occasion, or there just isn’t as much sex in favour of a richer storyline.

Most of the time, König actually never makes it to the stage of jacking off because he’s so invested in where the protagonists’ relationship is going and starts getting emotional.

This happens if you’re away and not within his immediate vicinity because he can only think of yours and his relationship.

98% of the time, he gets to the end of the video, realises he’s gone half limp, and just decides to go and watch a rom-com instead.

But don’t be fooled.

The second you arrive home, he’ll be on you like a blanket.

And he is not letting you go until both your needs are met.

Soap:

Something conventional yet with a distinct Johnny twist to it.

I can see him reading Playboy mags, for one, though this is more to get himself hard rather than to alleviate himself with.

He goes for something stronger when he wants to get himself off.

Definitely into the whole jealousy/possessiveness trope, so anything where one of the leads gets jealous for one reason or another and just destroys their partner afterwards is his type of media.

Johnny strikes me as a switch with top lean, so he’s much more likely to put himself in the position of the dominant lead instead of the lead receiving punishment.

Soap definitely gets off on some degree of dumbification - more so that, when the dom lead is almost through with their partner, said partner is just a heaving, whimpering, cum-soaked mess beneath them.

That, and body worship.

Soap wants to see a loving relationship wherein the leads truly love each other and find each other physically attractive (reflecting Johnny’s relationship with you), so to see one or the other in these on-screen relationships tell the other what they love about them gets him a little hot under the collar (though the collar may have been long discarded).

That’s the home stretch that gets Johnny off.

He also watches p0rn to improve, in a way.

Occasionally, he gets a little insecure that there may come a day where he can’t meet your needs, so he uses p0rn as a training ground to make sure he’s at the top of his game.

And many practice sessions with you too, of course.

Price:

University professor x Student.

Change my mind.

No clue what brought this on in him; I feel like this may have just been something he experimented with one bored evening and found that it worked, so he just kept consuming it. Or, it phased into his psyche after being so high in the chain of command for so long.

Either way, he usually can only get off to being in a position of dominance and power.

Though, he does have other preferences when it comes to how he asserts this dominance.

Sometimes he’ll watch historic p0rn (stay with me on this) where there’s a couple in the 40’s - one of whom is a soldier, the other the caretaker of their shared house - who are able to return to each other.

And then they…well, what couples who’ve been separated by war and worry usually do in these circumstances.

I feel like Price may have a preference for the couple being straight, but only for the aspect of one of them being a traditional housewife who the soldier wants to start a family with.

Pretty wholesome concept. Pretty unwholesome execution.

Price isn’t a fan of violent p0rnography, so it’s pretty ordinary and vanilla, but it satiates his breeding kink.

And my god, does this man have a breeding kink.

Not that anyone else on Base knows that.

They know literally nothing about his sexual preferences, and, given he’s their superior, they rarely push the issue when he shuts it down.

Alejandro:

Slow and sensual wins the race.

Man loves a good story – especially if it starts with an argument and one of the leads having to comfort the other by…making it up to them.

Alejandro’s an intense, romantic man, so it would stand to reason that his p0rnographic preferences would match his personality.

Definitely into body worship and praising, both giving and receiving.

The top lead has to be attentive to the sub lead’s needs, to the point that there are slivers of tears running down their cheeks because they feel so good.

Alejandro also has an unintentional preference for edging.

He won’t let himself finish until the sub lead has first; out of habit more than anything else.

If you walk in on him watching it, he’ll be absolutely shameless.

Will beckon you over with a dashing smile and say something to the effect of: “Mi amor, come here. My lap is lonely without you in it.”

Only uses p0rn as a last resort; so if you’re asleep, or away, or just don’t feel like having sex that night, Alejandro will excuse himself and do his business in the next room.

Nothing compares to you, though; these encounters with nameless couples on a screen cannot hold a candle’s light to the flaming glory of euphoria Alejandro feels whenever he is near you, never mind inside you.

And he reminds you of this daily.

Man’s a nymphomaniac, what can I say /j.

Gaz:

For him, it changes.

He’s the youngest in the 141 so he’s more likely than the rest to experiment (the least likely being Price because he’s found his genre lol).

So, really, it is very difficult to pin down his preferences.

However, I will say he takes a liking to p0rn that is very much unexpected.

I mean Hollywood-tier movie twists and turns that would have any outside observer assume that Gaz was just watching an action film the perfect cover.

He did take a fancy to skydiving p0rn once (just people doing it in the air while they’re skydiving - don’t ask how).

But when the crippling reality of how that would work logistically crossed Gaz’s 500 IQ mind, he lost his passion for it.

Let’s just say, whipping your ween out at that altitude with that much pressure against you while falling at a solid 130 mph is more likely to result in the appendage being taken by the wind than anything else.

Aside from that, Gaz has the widest range of tastes in the 141 since he experiments the most.

He has found he has the strongest preference for threesomes.

Only because he’s kind of fascinated by the concept and how much coordination it would take to execute the whole operation.

It genuinely actually started when he couldn’t get to sleep one night and had to go online to read up on the logistics – how these throuples worked and the statistics associated with them.

And now, here we are; crippling p0rn addiction.

I am actually joking; Gaz doesn’t even jack off the most out of the 141.

Graves:

Threesomes, orgies, gangbangs - you name it, he’ll enjoy it.

Superiority complex; he needs to feel in control over as many people as possible.

As most CEOs do.

As such, anything where the lead is in control is his go-to, though he won’t watch straight-up torture p0rn.

However, the lead is typically disproportionately stronger than the co-lead, so you can take that to mean that Graves watches generic p0rn targeted towards the male mass market; so usually something rough with a storyline so flimsy and thin that the terrible acting is made ever more transparent. Apparent.

Graves looks to p0rn only to fulfil himself; if he wants to feel loved or worshipped he’ll just go to you.

When you’re unavailable, however, he’ll just jerk off to the infinite stream of p0rn he has.

Or, considering how rich he is, he’ll get you to make a sex tape with him and just watch that.

Man’s got the money to make it happen; he ain’t janking it to a 144p video of low-quality blocks doing it.

Into body worship (as previously mentioned).

Also really into foreplay.

His favourite’s a kidnapping scenario. No clue why, I didn’t wanna ask. But I get the distinct impression it has to do, yet again, with his superiority complex.

(Daddy Kink Enjoyer; don’t tell him I told you that).

Valeria:

H A R D C O R E P O R N

Seriously, the amount of sheer sadism and violence it takes to get her off is concerning.

It comes with the territory; you run a cartel, you lose a bit of humanity; it’s the way of the world.

If you’re not around, Valeria will take to watching some of the most toe-curling, gut-wrenching p0rn you’ve never seen.

I’m talking hard BDSM, knife play, blood play - you name it; if it’s violent, Valeria will most likely have gotten off to it.

Has gotten off to security footage of her torture sessions with her victims before now.

However, she isn’t like that with you (unless you want her to be).

If you prefer her to be more gentle, she’ll simply just go and watch p0rn to satiate her more adventurous needs, saving her soft, loving, tender side for you and you alone.

But, if you want to experiment, Valeria will put all that she has acquired through torturing and p0rn consumption and take you on a one-way trip to pound town.

Big fan of lesbian p0rn, regardless of whether she’s actively in a relationship with a woman or not.

For this specific genre, she loves seeing women in strap-ons.

Just does something to her (call it feminism).

Also a big fan of heavy bondage, marking and intimidation.

She simply enjoys dominion over everyone, regardless of gender, identity – it doesn’t matter to her.

And you are no different.

However, she’d never actually hurt you - not in ways you didn’t want her to.

Because, at the end of the day, she loves you more than life itself and would buy the stars to see them sparkle in your smiling eyes.

Rodolfo:

Accidentally clicked on a pop-up for a free iPad once and it was all over from there.

I'm kidding (mostly).

Rudy doesn't jack off very often, what with his work and physical training taking up so much of his time.

As such, his tastes aren't fully developed as of yet, so he's still at the stage where seeing two people sat on the same sofa is too much for him.

Jkjk. But not too far off the mark.

Rudy will watch whatever's popular at the time, but only because he doesn't know what else he likes, and so doesn't actively go searching for it.

He can't stand bad acting.

He understands that it comes with the territory of consuming p0rn, but he doesn't see it as an excuse to be lax when it comes to the believability of the story and the acting.

When he eventually gets sick and tired of it, he'll just go and read an erotic novel.

Has become somewhat of a connoisseur of the erotic book genre; he has favourite authors, authors he wouldn't touch with a barge pole, preferred genres, etc.

His favourite genre at the moment is friends to enemies to lovers reconciliation novels.

Just loves how, no matter how bad things may seem during the book, everything comes together at the end :-).

Everyone gets a happy ending, everything is resolved.

Secretly, he actually enjoys these novels for the story rather than the sexual content.

Please protect him, he's so wholesome <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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die-pink-maus · 2 months

Text

📖 Mein Tutor 📖

❤︎ Darawing Credits: @shkretart ❤︎

Synopsis: Reader makes a New Year’s resolution to be more productive, finding herself fascinated with language, she decides to hire an in person tutor to give her the run down on Deutsch. However, turns out that learning German isn’t the only thing on readers mind…or her tutor, König’s 🤭

TW: 18+, MDNI, heavy smut, fluff fluff fluff, MDom, age gap relationship (26/41), dirty talk, female pronouns used, fingering, p in v, eye contact during seggs, size kink, female reader, vanilla seggs

AN: This is a ✨one shot✨ all the goods are here and there aren’t any additional parts. I would say this is a “medium” burn lol, there’s quite a bit of background and dialogue before we get into ITTTT. I’m learning German at the moment and my tutor is really cute, so it made me think hmm…😂 Also, I do tend to write König as a softer character, so this won't be for you if you don't like fluff, but I'm going to try my hand at a more domineering version of him soon. I hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 5,412

❤︎Like & Reblogs Are Greatly Appreciated!❤︎

Enjoy! 💋

I’ve never really been one for New Year’s resolutions, but considering how chaotic my life was last year, I figured setting a goal or two for myself would probably do me some good. I’d been searching for new and productive ways to spend my free time for a while now, and discovered that I really enjoy learning new languages. Language has always been incredibly fascinating, but I never realized just how fascinating it could truly be until now. He’s retired, ex military, and practically everything about him is unknown, down to his name as he only goes by his former callsign which is König. He’s shrouded in mystery with just the right amount of danger — everything from the way he caries himself to the black ski mask he wears during our lessons is telling of his obscure and likely troublesome past. But behind this large secretive wall appears to be an overall happy man, one who chooses to spend his free time teaching people such as myself how to speak in his native tongue — German. He’s an incredible teacher, he’s taught me more than I ever thought was possible in two months. He makes our lessons enjoyable and fun, I’m almost always ready for our next lesson the minute one ends. I practically count down the days of each week, patiently awaiting 7pm on Friday nights when he graces my front door, barely able to walk through the door frame without bumping his head due to his unbelievably tall and brawny stature. I think about him more than I’d like to admit. The sweet praises that escape his lips at the end of each lesson, how the wrinkles around his stunning blue eyes crinkle up when he listens to me say a new word he’s taught me — I assume he’s smiling considering I can’t see anything other than his eyes. “Very good, schatz.” He says as he gives me a playful round of applause. There’s something about him that draws me in. I don’t really know what he looks like, but from what I can see, he’s perfect. Probably the tallest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, a muscular physique that never goes unnoticed even in loose fitting clothing, it’s damn near impossible for my mind not to wander off. I know he’s much older than me, and for all I know he could have an entire family with a wife and children. Considering how sweet he is, it wouldn’t be surprising at all. I’m not too sure if German is considered a language of love by many, or anyone at all, but he has a way of making it sound so sexy. I’m damn near hypnotized by the rough and rugged tone that coats each word he speaks. Even in English, his accent is absolutely endearing, it takes everything in me to keep my composure as my core heats and arousal slowly begins to glaze the soft pink cotton of my panties.

Our lesson is almost over for the evening, but I’m feeling a little bold…another thing I promised myself this year is that I won’t allow fear to control my life. I doubt I ever cross his mind. He probably doesn’t look at me or think of me in all the many ways I do with him given our age difference, but I’m old enough to know what I want. Tonight’s the night I start making it clear that I’m interested, and if it’s not reciprocated, at least I tried. He began packing away his notebook and heading towards the foyer when my eye caught a glimpse of a vintage bottle of red wine I’d bought earlier in the week. “Um,” I began hesitantly, my mind sorting through ways in which I could make him stay a little longer. I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the bottle of wine, along with two glasses from the cupboard above. “Any plans for this evening? I was thinking…maybe you’d like to have a glass of wine with me?” I blushed. The look in his eyes was reminiscent of a deer in headlights. Figures he’d be caught off guard, considering we’d never spent time together outside of our lessons. “Well, I don’t have any plans at all,” he laughed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, the wrinkles around his dazzling blue eyes crinkling up. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else you’d rather share that with? Looks like an expensive bottle, don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate you sharing this with the strange masked Austrian man who comes by to teach you German once a week.”

“Well, who said I had a boyfriend?” I giggled, my cheeks ablaze from slight embarrassment at his assumption. “I just assumed that a beautiful young woman such as yourself…” He began as we held each other’s gaze. “So is that a yes or no?” I smirked.

“Alright, wine it is.” He said hesitantly as he removed his boots. “I’ll invoice you for the extra time later.” He teased. We both took a seat on my sofa “Prost!” I smiled after I poured us both a glass, and raised my glass with him. “Sehr gut, Schatz!” He praised before raising the edge of his mask up to his nose and taking a sip. This is more of him than I’ve ever been able to see. His jaw line is strong and chiseled, peppered with an even layer of stubble. “Alright, you have to tell me,” I began. “Why do you wear the mask?”

He paused for a moment, thinking of an answer to a question he probably gets quite frequently. “There are quite a few reasons…” he sighed. “The military has and always will be a large part of my life, I suppose there’s some comfort in it for me. Maybe I just feel a little exposed without it because I’ve worn one almost every day of my life since I was a teenager.” He laughed. “Also, there’s the matter of safety…”

“Why would you need your mask for safety?”

He sighed, “It’s complicated, but there are situations you can sometimes get yourself into that cause you to make enemies out of people you wouldn’t really want to make enemies with.” He said. It hadn’t really occurred to me until just now that he’s more than likely had a hand in ending someone else’s life. It sounds silly, because he was in the military so I should have just assumed, but aside from the mask and his large, intimidating body, it’s kinda hard to picture him as some ruthless assassin. All of our interactions thus far have been so pleasant, and he’s never been anything other than a gentleman, there’s a part of me that wonders… “Are you okay?” I asked, a pang of immediate regret stirring within me as soon as the words left my lips. I guess I just can’t imagine having to do the things he probably had to do. I don’t think I’d be okay, I don’t know how I could cope with taking another life, or watching the life of someone else get taken. He cocked his head to the side, eyes slightly squinted as he let out a brief chuckle. “You know,” he began. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before…” he trailed off. “I would say…I wasn’t always okay, it was very hard in the beginning, but over time I’ve learned to be okay.” He beamed, a softness gleaming in his eyes, almost as if he was glad I asked. “I’m happy to hear that” I smiled.

I’d like to think I was able to gain his trust that night, something I know is probably a challenging task for many others. Since then, we’ve made it somewhat of a tradition to share a bottle of wine after each of our lessons. Sometimes he even cooks dinner and chefs up a few of his favourite Austrian dishes. Nothing makes me melt more than seeing how overjoyed he is that I’ve enjoyed something he made. Another two months have gone by, and it’s safe to say that he and I have been growing…closer, but be has yet to make an actual move. The ball is now in his court, so let’s see what he does with it. It's Saturday and I'm bored as hell. We spoke earlier and since we both aren’t doing anything, we decided maybe it would be a good idea to do something together, so I invited him over. This would be the first time we’d be spending time together where a lesson hasn’t taken place beforehand, so as excited as I am, I’m also feeling quite nervous. I made a small plater of appetizers for us to snack on while we do whatever it is we’re gonna be doing. Ultimately there’s no set plan, so I’m thinking we’ll probably end up watching a movie or two. My doorbell rang a few minutes later, and there he was holding a 6 pack of German beer and an extra large pizza. “You told me you enjoy pizza last time, so I figured I’d bring some for us to share.” He smiled.

“Great choice.” I giggled as I moved aside so he could come in. “I did half meat lovers, and half extra cheese with pineapples.” He said as he opened the box to display the pizza, the look in his eyes hinting at how proud he was for remembering the toppings I like. “Very simple order, but it’s something very few can seem to get right,” I laughed as he placed the pizza on the counter top. “Thank you, König.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his torso. He’s huge so a proper hug just doesn’t work, but no hug in this world compares to a König hug. Those big muscular arms wrapped around me, engulfing me into his strong chest. He always smell amazing, like fragrant musky oud and aftershave. “Natürlich, Schatz.“ he whispers as his hand roams over the back of my head, fingers gently playing in my hair. I could stay in his arms forever, I’ve genuinely never felt safer than I do right here. We haven’t really had a moment quite as intimate as this one. We’ve hugged many times before, but not like this. We pulled away and smiled at each other. I cleared my throat before heading over to my kitchen to grab plates and napkins. "So how has your day been so far?" He asked a he took a took a seat at the breakfast bar. "Honestly, it's been pretty boring thus far, I'm counting on you to entertain me" I teased.

"And how do you expect me to do that?" He smirked.

"That's your job to figure out, not mine." I winked.

"Alright, what's you opinion on horror movies?"

"Love 'em!"

"Paranormal or slasher?"

"Hmm, haven't watched a slasher in a while..." I said as I took a seat on the stool beside him, grabbing a slice of my half of the pizza.

"Okay, I'm gonna count down, we're both gonna say a slasher on three and then go from there."

"Alright."

"Eins, Zwei, Drei..."

"Saw marathon." We both said before proceeding to burst into laugher. "Well that was easy," He laughed. "Never would've pegged you for a Saw type of woman though."

"Hey...ya girl's got good taste alright?" I laughed as I took a bite of my slice. We moved everything to the couch and setup Netflix. Luckily for us, Netflix happens to have all of the saw movies available for streaming. I took a seat on the couch after figuring everything out with the TV. "Why are you so far away?" He asked. I sat frozen for a moment, not sure what to do, the blood rushing to my cheeks as I face him. One of his arms rested gently behind the couch, signalling for me to come closer. I smiled bashfully before sliding closer to him, his large robust arm swinging around me and nuzzling me into his side. I gently placed my hand on his chest, before looking up at him. He looked down at me, the wrinkles around his eyes doing that thing I love so much to give away that he's smiling. He gently rubbed my arm, lifting his mask up to his nose, as he placed his finger underneath my chin. He leaned in close, gently rubbing his nose against mine. "May I kiss you, Schatz?" He whispered.

"Ja." I breathed.

"Sehr gut..." He smiled, taking note of my Deutsch response, as he closed the gap between our lips, enrapturing me in a kiss so deep my body turned to jello. His tongue entered my mouth, taking the kiss to new heights. It was dripping with passion, riddled with fervour and yearning. It was hot. Sensual and inviting, I was practically speechless when he pulled away, a string of spit connecting our swollen lips from the brief make out session a few seconds prior. He pulled me back into his chest, gently placing a kiss on the top of my head. Seems like he’s doing something with that ball after all.

By the time we’d finished watching the movies, it was nearly 2am. We were both slowly beginning to doze off before König took notice of the time. “Schiße,” he groaned as he rubbed his eyes. “When did it get so late?”

“No idea.” I yawned as I gently rose from his chest. Ugh he’s so comfy, I really didn’t want to get up, but I didn’t want to push things too far along by suggesting that he spend the night, no matter how badly I wanted to, and fuck did I want to. That one kiss alone was more than enough to have me practically dripping through my panties and down my thighs. He’s such a phenomenal kisser. For a good hour throughout the first movie, I pretty much had to fight myself to keep my mind off of imagining those lips of his covering my entire body in wet gentle kisses. Feeling them enclosed around my nipples, sucking and nipping at them with his teeth while his large calloused hands roam about my body. Picturing him between my legs, his sweet, rough tongue lapping over my swollen nub and dipping between my folds, blue eyes piercing my gaze as he watches me writhe in pleasure beneath him. I would let him have me all over the house, on every piece of furniture, every corner and crevice, I want to be able to look anywhere in here and remember how hard he fucked me…but I don’t want to come off too eager. We got up from the couch and headed towards the front foyer. “I had a great time tonight.” I blushed. “I’d love to maybe do it again sometime.”

“I agree,” he said. “But maybe, only if you’d like to, I could take you out for dinner somewhere nice?”

“Yes,” I said a little two quickly. “I would love to.”

“What about after our next lesson this week?”

“That works for me.”

“Perfect.” He said as he finished putting on his shoes. “I’ll see you then, Schatz. Guten Nacht” he said, gently pulling me in for a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “Let me know when you make it in.” I said.

“Roger.” He smiled, playfully saluting me as he headed out the front door.

Sundays are what I like to call Self Care Days. I’ll normally do a full deep clean of the entire house, engage in some intensive skincare, play my favourite music, drink my favourite wine and eat my favourite foods. It wasn’t until I was finished washing off my clay face mask that I realized I was missing the wine and food. I quickly slipped into a pair of black leggings and a white hoodie, then grabbed my car keys and headed out to the grocery store a few minutes away to grab a bottle of Chardonnay and a few ingredients I’m missing to make lasagna. The supermarket is relatively empty today, which is quite surprising considering it’s a Sunday, but I have zero complaints. I definitely prefer it this way, there’s less anxiety surrounding finding the things you need as you can simply take your time. After grabbing my favourite jar of tomato sauce, ricotta cheese and big bottle of Chardonnay, I began walking off towards to the cash register. As I mindlessly drifted through the aisle towards the cashier, I caught a glimpse of someone familiar. My eyes trailed over the produce section of the grocery store and I saw him — König…but he wasn’t alone. Beside him, a beautiful statuesque blonde, gently rubbing his arm as a little boy around maybe around 3 or 4 years old sat nestled between his arm and chest. My heart practically sank and fell right out of my body and I froze dead in my tracks. No, nothing is set in stone between he and I, but what the hell is going on? Why spend any time at all with me outside of our lessons? Why kiss me the way he did or ask me out to dinner? It’s not like we sit and talk about German for hours over multiple glasses of wine, watch movies on opposite ends of my couch in complete silence, or conjugate verbs while he cooks me Käsespätzle. I’m no fool, I see the way he looks at me…but if he’s married, I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Once I’d gotten over the initial shock of what I’d seen, I was enraged. I decided the next course of action was going to be absolute pettiness. I began heading over in his direction, a gigantic phoney grin plastered across my face as I approach him and his family. “Oh wow, König!” I exclaimed. “Had no idea you and your family also shopped here too.” I said through nearly gritted teeth. “Yes, I’m surprised I haven’t run into you here before.” He smiled, seemingly oblivious to being caught. “I’m one of König’s students, nice to meet you.” I smiled as I turned to the blonde.

“Karina, likewise.” She smiled.

“She’s my Friday evening student, she’s progressing quite well!” He laughed.

“Ahhh…I’ve heard quite a bit about you actually.” She smirked.

“I’m sure you have…well I just wanted to come over and say hello. Take care” I said before I walked over to self checkout. As angry as I am, more than anything else, I feel foolish. Of course he has an entire family, and of course she’s beautiful. Good thing I grabbed the big bottle of wine today. The first thing I did when I got home, aside from pour myself a glass of wine, was cancel the rest of my lessons with König before blocking his number all together. I feel so disgusting and betrayed. Why wouldn’t he tell me about her? Was he hoping I’d be interested in being some sort of mistress? Considering this is something that was initiated by me on the basis of “I’m gonna get what I want this year”, this is a little embarrassing.

The thunderstorm brewing outside was the perfect addition to this mess of an evening. About 3 glasses of Chardonnay and 3 slices of pizza later, I still can’t get over seeing him with them. I just feel so stupid. I genuinely thought this could have been the beginning of something…special. As mad as I am, I cannot get over how amazing he looked with that baby in his arms. Considering how patient he is with me during our lessons, I just know he’s probably the most amazing father, but I have to just try to move on I guess. I got up to pour myself another glass of wine when my doorbell rang. Very strange seeing as it’s 10pm and I’m not expecting a visit from anyone other than a brutal hangover, but I’m not expecting that till tomorrow morning. I opened my phone to check my Ring camera before going towards the door. It’s him. What the hell is he doing here? Was today not enough? I walked over to the door, taking a very deep breath before proceeding to open. He’s soaking wet from head to toe. His white, crew next t-shirt sticking to his body, revealing a clearly defined chest and sculpted abs. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“You cancelled your lessons…and then I tried calling you and never got through. I thought maybe something happened to you.” He said.

“Really? König, please, spare me the pity party.”

“What? What are you talking about? What pity party?”

“Wasn’t it enough for me to have to see you with her? And then you act as if it’s not weird as hell for me to be interacting with your wife.” I spat. He stared at me for a moment before doing something I never thought he would do. He pulled his mask up and over his head. I stared at him, dumbfounded. I drank him in, assessing all of his features — he’s beautiful. He has a buzz cut, which is different than what I’d always pictured, and a scar the slits through his eyebrow that looks…pretty damn good if I’m being honest. His expression grew soft, mildly amused as he watched me stare at his maskless face. “Schatz,” he said. “That is my sister, Karina, and her 4 year old son Markus.” He laughed.

“Fuck…” I cursed under my breath.

“Can I come in please?” He asked. I nodded as I moved aside to let him through the front door. I really don’t know what’s worse, me assuming that the similarly large blonde hair blue eyed Austrian woman standing beside him was his wife, or the outburst I just had. I would crawl under a rock and live there for the rest of my life if I could, because I genuinely cannot handle the embarrassment. I walked over to the linen closet to grab him a towel to dry off. “Thank you,” he said as he put the towel to his face. “Now, what’s all of this about me having a wife?” He asked, smirking knowingly as he clearly already knows the answer. I’m not at all ready to have this conversation, but here goes. “I guess when I saw all three of you, I just assumed that was your wife and child.” I sighed. Looking back, especially now that I’ve seen his face, I definitely see the resemblance between him and Karina. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together after lessons…that kiss last night…I thought there was something between us.” I blushed.

He stepped closer to me. “Of course there is, I asked you out for a reason.” He laughed in mild disbelief. “But I do have a hard time understanding why you would be interested in me…You are so beautiful, too beautiful, but I’m so much older than you and all the things I’ve done —“

“König, I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is how I feel when I’m with you.”

He smiled as he raised his hand up to my face, cupping my cheek in his palm. My heart began to race at the sensation of his touch. “Why do you think she said she’s heard a lot about you?” He laughed. “I help her out with my nephew while her husband is deployed. Admittedly, you are all I can ever seem to think or talk about these days. I am happiest when I’m with you.” I never thought I’d hear him say these things, but God does it feel so good to hear. He leaned down and I leaned upward to close the gap between our lips. I never understood what people meant before when they said they felt a spark when they kissed someone, that is until he first kissed me. I never want it to end, but I also want more and I can tell he does too. He picks me up, effortlessly walking us both over to the kitchen before placing me on the countertop, his kiss growing hungrier and hungrier by the second. My hands sauntered about his torso through his damp shirt. He pulls away briefly to take it off before returning to my lips. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in closer between my thighs. A small moan escapes my lips as I feel his hardened length push up against my pussy through his grey sweatpants. Fuck, looks like he’s big all around. My pussy weeps at the thought of him splitting me in half with his big stiff rod. His hands slip beneath my oversized shirt, softly massaging and caressing my tits as we continue to kiss, his hips slowly grinding against my sopping wet heat through my panties. Christ. I could cum right here. The motion of his hips alone is enough to send me spiralling out into a fit of intense pleasure. I can’t wait to feel him fill me up, and see the look on his face as he slips into the slick mess he’s created. He begins to roll and pinch my nipples between his fingers as his lips move towards my jawline, slow soft kisses trailing down my neck as I whimper and moan, my sensitive nipples growing harder beneath his touch. I pull my shirt up over my head, allowing his lips access to my exposed chest. His lips continue to trail downward towards my breasts, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, while his hand continues to massage the other. “Oh, König…” I moan quietly as my head falls back, goosebumps slowly decorating my entire body as he takes his time catering to my nipples. “Your body is incredible,” he breathed as he came back up to meet my lips. “I love the way it reacts to me…” he said lowly, his hand trailing along my side until it reaches the hem of my panties. “Oh…I wanna taste you.” he whispered in my ear. I placed both feet on the countertop and leaned back onto my elbows, slowly sliding my panties off and down my legs, flicking them off to the side in one swift little kick. He fell to his knees, spreading my legs apart to admire my sticky wet folds. “Schiße, Schatz…” he moaned as he looked up at me, placing gentle kisses along my inner thighs. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He smirked as he planted slow purposeful kisses against my heat. He nuzzled his face between my folds, his tongue lapping gently at the arousal pouring from my tight cunt. “Ohhh…” I moaned out, my hand resting on his head as he picked up the pace, my clit throbbing uncontrollably as his tongue ferociously flicks against it. “Fuck, König…God, you’re gonna make me cum.” I whimpered, legs beginning to shake as his hands held on tight to my thighs, fingers digging into my plush flesh as I squirmed beneath his lips and tongue. He began sucking my clit while his tongue continued to flick against my swollen nub, my orgasm building as I watched him indulge in me, enjoying and savouring every ounce of my sweet juices. He came up for air, licking his lips as he took in every inch of my naked body. “I could eat your pussy all day, Schatz. Fuck, you taste even better than you look.” He praised.

“Now I want you to cum for me.” He said, slowly sliding two of his fingers inside me, his thumb rubbing swift circles against my clit. My back arches up off the counter as the room fills with the loud, obscene noises of me growing closer to succumbing to my orgasm.

He leans over me, fingers curling upward and into that delightful spongy spot inside me. He kisses me slowly as I cum all over his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. “Sehr Gut.” He smirks as he pulls away, my eyes immediately drawn to the large bulge in his sweatpants. He pulls them, along with his boxers, down, revealing his long, hard, uncut cock. Fuck…he might actually split me in two. He’s gotta be at least 9-10 inches with a fair amount of girth, and a thick vein that embellishes the side of his length. I sat up as he placed his hands on my hips. “Are you sure about this, Schatz? I don’t wanna hurt you…you’re so tight.” He said.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I said, gently taking his hardness in my hand, slowly stroking him as I held his gaze. “I want you, König.” I breathed as I positioned his thick leaky tip at my entrance. “I’ll be gentle.” He breathed against my lips before kissing me , slowly pushing forward. I leaned back onto my hands to allow him more room to go deeper, his hands resting on the counter on either side of me. “König,” I gasped as he went deeper, slowly thrusting in more of himself little by little. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, expression awash with concern as he takes a brief pause. “No. I want more,” I moaned. “I want it all.”

He smiled, “Gutes Mädchen.” He said, holding my gaze as he continued to push into me, my eyes widening at the delicious feel of his fullness. “Fuck.” I moaned.

“Mmm, look at you…” he smirked. “Schiße, you take me so fucking well.” He breathed, watching his fat cock slip in and out of me, letting out a guttural moan as he bottoms out. “Mein Got, you’re so fucking tight.” He said as his thrusts began to pick up pace. “So…big…” I moaned as he thrusted harder, eyes glued to mine, basking in my aroused expression as he continued to fuck me. “Harder.” I panted.

“You sure you can handle it, Schatz?” He asked.

“Yes. Please” I begged. He stood up, gently pulling me towards the edge of the countertop, placing my legs in the air, and wrapping one of his arms around both of my thighs before slamming into me repeatedly. “Oh my God.” I cried out, his thick tip kissing the sweet gummy edge of my cervix over and over. “This is what you wanted, ja?” He taunted.

“Y-yes.” I moaned, barely able to speak.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Schatz? Thought you could handle this?” He smirked, watching as my pussy gushes around this cock, dripping down it’s base. His free hand moved towards my clit, his thumb continuing with those hypnotizing circles as he mercilessly pounds my cunt, his face and chest glistening with sweat. I can feel myself about to come undone. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered. I’ve never been fucked this hard before, or taken anything nearly as big as him. I am completely overwhelmed with pleasure in the best way, and the look and his face let’s me know the feeling is mutual. I damn near explode all over his cock, coating majority of his length in my creaminess. He pulled out, I could tell his orgasm was about to follow mine. I climbed off of the counter top and got on my knees, licking my slick off of his shaft before wrapping my lips around the head of his cock. He grabbed hold of my hair and I began sliding my lips up and down his shaft. “Fuck…” he whimpered. “I’m gonna cum.” He moaned. I picked up the pace, sucking him vigorously. I continued until he couldn’t hold back anymore, shooting ropes of his hot, sticky cum down my throat. I held his gaze as I swallowed. “Fuck….” He exhaled, trying to catch his breath as I rose to my feet. He pulled me into him, kissing me hard as we both came down from our high. “That was incredible.” He smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It was.” I blushed. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

He laughed. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Schatz, especially not after that.”

“Would you like to spend the night?” I asked sheepishly.

“I would love to.” He smiled as he gave me a kiss on the cheek, before scooping me up into his arms bridal style. “Let’s go take a shower, Ja?”

“Lead the way!” I laughed as he headed towards the stairs.

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magicalbats · 6 months

Text

Flesh-Devouring Part 3

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18,592

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

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

Header credit goes to the oh so lovely @jymwahuwu💕

⭐

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

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

“Thank you, sir.”

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

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

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

“Ooh … thank you, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You exaggerate …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y - your grace?”

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

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

“Good. And what else?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like a little preview?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

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

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

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

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

Much to your gobsmacked surprise, he was right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neuvillette’s brows slowly lift. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“O - okay …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please think nothing of it, monsieur Neuvillette …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wha - -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean, monsieur?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, this was …

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

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

“No, I suppose we don’t.”

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

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

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

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

“I thought perhaps you could join me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, your grace. My apologies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Much, your grace.”

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

“Have you helped many ladies in their boudoir?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… I don’t think so.”

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

“Oh.” You blurt out, with feeling.

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

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

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

“Do you want it tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shall I do it like this, sir?”

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

“You’re the one who taught me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not that …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then he finds your clit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y - your grace?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swat!

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

Swat!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll stay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #self insert bullshit

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