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burntheedges · 3 days ago

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Pas de Deux Chapter 11

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.2k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: with less than two weeks to go until the gala, you're not sure how you're going to make it.

a/n: sorry about that cliffhanger last week 😂 but here we go. Happy holidays, y'all! Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, kissing, Din lifts reader (again but you know), dancing, costumes

Chapter 11

You’d never been more excited for morning classes.

There was a spring in your step as you walked towards the large classroom. You knew you were smiling – you couldn’t seem to stop. As you neared the door, you bit your lip, thinking of seeing Din inside. Thinking of him made you think of the way he’d kissed you the day before, like it had every few moments since he’d stopped.

You felt a shiver run through your whole body as you sank into the kiss. His lips were warm and soft as they moved against yours. You realized your hands had tangled in his hair without you consciously moving them. His hair was soft, and you tugged at it lightly. He groaned in response and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

He lifted you, suddenly, and you wrapped your legs around his waist easily as he walked towards the barre on the far wall without breaking the kiss. He set you lightly on top of it, still mostly supporting your weight, and pressed tightly against you.

You knew he was wearing a belt, but you could still feel his interest – two sets of tights and a leotard was hardly a barrier, after all.

His tongue teased against your bottom lip and you met it with your own. Another shiver ran through you at the touch and you felt Din smile against your mouth.

You were startled out of your reverie by an arm dropping around your shoulders. Adrian grinned at you. “Daydreaming, are we?”

You blinked and realized you were standing outside the door to the classroom, staring off into space. You felt your entire body go hot. “How long have I been standing here?”

He laughed and tugged you forward. “Not long. Don’t worry, I’m the only one who saw.”

You groaned and dropped your face into your hands. “I can’t stop thinking about it.” You’d called Adrian the night before as soon as you got home from rehearsal, so he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

“Well, of course you can’t,” he whispered as you crossed the threshold into the classroom. “No one could blame you, not after making out with that specimen of a man over there.” He gestured with his head to the right and you looked over to find Din watching you enter. You smiled at him and to your surprise, he smiled gently back.

“Oh-ho!” Adrian murmured. “A smile in public! What did you do to that man?”

You grinned and ducked your head before sitting to put on your shoes. “I told you, we agreed – no more of… that until after the gala.”

You and Din had only managed to tear yourselves away from each other the day before when you heard a loud noise in the hall. You’d both realized at the same time that the door was unlocked. After gaining some distance between you and taking a few deep breaths, Din had nervously suggested waiting until after the gala to… see anything through.

I’m so nervous about it already, he’d said, looking at you with hope and anxiety in his expression. I want this. I want… I want you. But can we wait? I need to concentrate on this, and just this. He’d gestured at the studio, and you knew he meant the pas de deux.

You’d said yes, of course. You knew how nervous he was. And it was just two weeks, right? Of course you could wait. He was worth the wait, even if it killed you.

Adrian rolled his eyes as he dropped down next to you. You peeked up and found Din still watching you as he stretched. You bit your lip and noticed he dropped his gaze to watch.

Adrian scoffed. You looked at him, and saw that he was looking between the two of you. “Sure. I totally believe that you’ll keep your hands off each other for two weeks. Two weeks of rehearsals where you have to put your hands all over each other, all the time. Absolutely.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. You elbowed him and he yelped.

“Maybe the tension will help our performance,” you said. It was the same thing you’d told yourself the night before.

He laughed. “Oh it’ll help, alright. Help you set the stage on fire, maybe.” You elbowed him again.

…

In rehearsal with Kuiil that afternoon, one thing became abundantly clear – you were right about the tension.

From the moment the music started, you could feel it. Your connection was back and stronger than ever before. It was like you’d reached a new level, a new intimacy that you couldn’t access until now. Every touch and glance affected you and you reflected them back to Din. For the first time it felt like you were having a real conversation as you danced.

At the end of the third movement, you fell into your final position – the two of you curved your bodies into each other and Din’s arms surrounded you slowly. You ducked your head into his neck as you both sank to your knees.

For a moment, you simply breathed together, and you resisted the urge to kiss his neck.

“Oh, yes! Yes!” Kuiil was ecstatic. Your connection was back, and he praised you both. You leaned back from each other and turned to look at him. “Yes, I was certain you would fix it. Well done, both of you.” His belief in you made you smile. You only hoped he couldn’t tell what the new… source of your connection was. “From here, we clean. And we focus on strengthening the parts that need it. But overall, I want you to focus on the feeling. The choreography is complete – all that is left to do is for you to complete the narrative. And remember – exist in the moment.”

You nodded. You were certain you would be fully present for this dance every time, in every moment. How could you not be, with Din in front of you, waiting to be touched?

As rehearsal continued, a tentative wonder started to fill your chest. It had never felt like this, to dance with another person. Now that you and Din were on the same page, it felt like a real partnership in a way that no choreography ever had before.

You felt like he could read your mind – whenever you reached, he was there. You would take a breath, and he would extend his movement, aligning his breath with yours. He was an echo of you, and you were an echo of him, and somehow you were moving like two parts of the same machine. The same brain.

It was beautiful.

At the end, Kuiil praised you again, and set out the plan for the remaining rehearsals. He wanted you to include more time working on your solos and more PT and strength training, but not too much.

“I want you at your best, for the performance,” he said, and you both nodded. “We will amaze them. You will see.”

He turned to leave, but Din didn’t move. You looked at him as the door shut behind Kuiil.

“Din…” you said, a bit breathless. “Did you feel it? That was–”

He turned towards you and his eyes were ablaze with emotion. You sucked in a sharp breath.

“You were amazing,” he said, voice low, almost a growl. He walked towards you slowly. You froze in place, simply watching him approach. He stopped just inches away and you looked into his eyes, breathless. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

You nodded. You wanted to reach out and touch him but you were afraid you’d be unable to resist him if you did. “Me neither. It was…” you trailed off, looking for the right words.

Din raised one hand and gently cupped your face in his palm. You leaned into it, eyes fluttering closed. “It was beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful.”

You turned your face into his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his palm. You could feel the shudder that ran through his body in response, even through just that single point of contact. He stepped away.

“Two weeks,” he said, voice firm. A promise.

“Two weeks,” you agreed.

He lingered for just a moment and then swept out the door.

…

Those two weeks were, as you’d predicted, torture.

Your dancing had never been better – Kuiil was effusive with praise, and you and Din seemed to be locked in to some deeper understanding that only drove your performance higher and higher. It felt amazing and awe-inspiring. It also felt like maybe it was going to kill you, by the time you got to the gala.

You’d taken to eating lunch with Adrian every day, just to give yourself a bit of a breather between class with Din and rehearsal with Din. Your best friend continued to tease you, and you continued to try to keep your cool as Din tested it.

On Sunday, he sent you a cute picture of Grogu dancing in their living room in front of a YouTube video of Swan Lake. Your heart had skipped a beat at the knowledge that he wanted to share moments like this with you.

On Tuesday, Kuiil had left you to finish practicing on your own, and Din had gathered you in his arms for the final pose and kept you there, just a bit too long. He’d only released you when he felt the hitch in your breath. When you caught his eye, you could see that you were both feeling just a bit too wrecked for what was usual in rehearsal.

On Friday, with one week to go, you finally felt like you’d fallen into a routine that could carry you through the remaining six days until dress rehearsal.

And then Max brought your costumes by on Saturday for a run through, and you were certain you weren’t going to make it.

Din stepped into the room in the tiniest pair of black shorts you’d ever seen. They had silver stitching in a swirling design that matched his body paint and the black embroidery on your own silver bodysuit, which had skin-colored mesh at the top to make it look strapless and ended in little shorts, too. Your gaze traveled down his chest and then caught on his legs, which you suddenly realized you’d never seen. Not like this, anyway. You swallowed and let your eyes linger on the muscles in his calves and thighs before you dragged your eyes back up to his face.

You realized he still looked a bit nervous, standing barefoot in the room in just his shorts, body on display. His shoulders were drawn in and he had one arm across his chest, holding on to his opposite bicep. But as you met his eyes you realized he hadn’t missed the way you’d just checked him out.

He was smirking at you. He raised his eyebrows and then let his gaze travel slowly down your body and back up. By the time he met your eyes again, his shoulders had relaxed, and you felt like you were on fire.

You were glad Kuiil and Max were talking in the corner and that they’d missed everything that just passed between you and Din.

“My dear, how does it feel?” Kuiil called to you and you blinked, turning away from Din. It felt like you were moving through molasses.

“Good,” you said, twisting your torso, and then cleared your throat when your voice came out too quietly. “Good. Should we do a run through?”

Kuiil and Max both nodded. “Just the third,” said Kuiil. “That will be enough to test it.”

You took a deep breath as you moved to your side of the floor for the start of the third movement. You didn’t look at Din – you needed to focus. But then the music started and you had no choice.

Din’s body was always beautiful, in movement and when he was still. But something about this costume was stoking a fire within you that you’d managed to leave at a slow simmer all week.

When he caught you in the lift, the one that had brought you together, you barely breathed through the following sequence. As he set you back on your toes, chests pressed together, it took everything within you to continue the choreography and move away from him.

One glance at his face told you he was struggling, too.

When the music ended, and Din was wrapped around you, you felt him raise one hand out of view of Kuiil and Max. He placed it gently on your hip and then squeezed. “This is so beautiful on you,” he murmured, and you sat back on your heels, overwhelmed. His hands slid from around you as you looked up at him where he was still kneeling. His eyes were dark.

“Thank you both,” Max said, popping the bubble that had formed around you within your mind. “I think we might need to rethink the body paint, but we’ll be ready for next week.”

You looked down and noticed that a bit of Din’s paint had transferred to your arms, but somehow not your costume. You nodded.

When you looked up, Din was eyeing those transferred marks intently, and you shivered.

“Thanks, Max,” you said, voice thin. “We’ll just… get changed.”

Thankfully there were no more costume fittings to test your already dwindling strength.

...

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a/n: 👀

cleaning - I'm sort of assuming this is a widespread term but every teacher I've ever had used it to talk about the small changes and tweaks you make to get ready for a performance. Usually we'd repeat small sections over and over again until it was perfect.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #x reader #pas de deux fic #nbt fic

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crssvjb · 1 day ago

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Monaco - Ayrton Senna

Ayrton Senna x driver!reader

Summary: As a Formula 1 driver, racing for Ferrari, you win for the first time in Monaco. You and Ayrton are good friends, but there was something more there.

The sound of engines roaring on the Monaco circuit was deafening. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline permeated the air. It was an electric atmosphere, filled with tension and expectation. The narrow, winding track was an impeccable challenge, requiring absolute precision and indomitable courage.

You were in the cockpit of your Ferrari, your heart pounding as you waited for the race to start. The red lights went out, and the show began. Every curve, every straight, every overtaking was a battle. You drove with fierce determination, conscious of every movement, feeling the car like an extension of your own body.

The last lap seemed like an eternity. With your heart racing, you crossed the finish line first. The victory was yours. The first victory in Monaco, a monumental feat for any Formula 1 driver, but even more special for you, who had dreamed of this moment since childhood.

When you got out of the car, you were greeted with a shower of applause and screams. The Ferrari team was ecstatic, the technical team applauded and lifted you on their shoulders. You couldn't believe what had just happened. And then, in the crowd, you saw him: Ayrton Senna, your longtime friend and confidant.

Senna, who came in second place, smiled widely when he saw you, his eyes shining with pride. He approached, pushing his way through the journalists and photographers. – "You were amazing!" – He said, his voice full of emotion. – "I knew you had it in you!"

– "Thank you, Ayrton." – You replied, your voice choked with joy and adrenaline. – "I couldn't have done it without your support."

He pulled you into a tight hug, and you felt the connection of years of friendship and mutual admiration. When they pulled away, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to disappear. The tumult of the celebration, the camera flashes, everything became a blur. There were only the two of you, in that moment of pure euphoria.

Without thinking, you moved closer, and your lips met in a kiss full of passion and intensity. It was as if all the repressed emotion, all the affection and desire accumulated over the years, was released at that moment. The kiss was brief but intense, and when you broke apart, you were both breathless, surprised by what had just happened.

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of interviews, celebrations and congratulations. The kiss with Ayrton kept replaying in his mind, but there was no time to process it calmly. Night fell, and the celebrations calmed down. The paddock was quieter, with just a few team members still working.

You found Ayrton in a far corner, watching the sea. He seemed to be lost in thought, but upon noticing your presence, he smiled softly.

– "Congratulations again, champion." – He said, his voice soft and welcoming.

– "Thanks." – You replied, approaching. – "We need to talk about what happened earlier."

He nodded, looking serious. – "Yes we need."

You sat down, the sound of waves crashing in the background. – "Ayrton, that kiss... it was something I didn't expect, but I don't regret it."

He held your hand, the touch warm and comforting. – "Neither do I. I feel like I've been waiting for this for a long time, but I never had the courage to act."

– "Me too." – You admitted it. – "There has always been something between us, something more than friendship. Maybe today, with all the emotion, it finally came to the surface."

– "Yes." – He agreed. – "And now?"

You sighed, thinking about all the implications. – "Beco, we are pilots, our lives are complicated. But if there's anything I learned today, it's that we can't let opportunities pass us by. I want to see where it can take us."

He smiled, that smile that always brightened your days. – "I'm willing to try, if you are."

You embraced each other again, this time with new hope and expectation. The future was uncertain, but at that moment, nothing else mattered other than how you felt about each other. Victory in Monaco was the start of something new, not just in his career, but also in his heart. And you were ready to face this new journey, alongside Ayrton Senna.

⎊𝙘𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙫𝙟𝙗 - ²⁰²⁴

#ayrton senna x reader #ayrton senna x you #ayrton senna x y/n #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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papasbaseball · 3 days ago

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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 7

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 3,724 of 19,250

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AO3 Link

The festivities start before the sun sets. I watch as it sinks below the horizon, a fat red apple amongst the crooked charred tops of green houses and shops. Its dying light falls gently on the shoulders of ladies and gentlemen as they arrive, like a glowing kiss of welcome as strokes of real gold, gold that could be minted, bathe their cheeks and laughter-filled smiles. They arrive in pairs, by themselves, in whole parties that tumble out of stuffed carriages. I watch from the window of my room, having already been done up for an hour at that point. I have dragged the vanity stool over to the window so that I can watch better. Anything to pass the time as I wait for the inevitable final guest of the party: myself.

I have no desire or intent to go down to the feast because I knew that he would be there: the Wizard. Every stroke of the makeup brushes this afternoon felt like porcupine bristles being dragged across the skin of my cheeks, eyelids, and lips. The lips had stung the worst, right in the spot where he had touched his thumb. It was embarrassing really, the way I fell for it all. Emily didn't know anything about what had happened in the throne room, but her words from weeks ago echoed in my head as she wound locks of my hair around the hot iron. You're not the first dummy to try and sleep her way to head maid. The fact that I wasn't the first one was what was eating at me. Was this the kind of treatment that they got? How many had there been before me?

I shake my head at that. No, not before me. I am not a part of any line of women who would sleep with the Wizard, and I do not want to be any part of that line. I'm sure he has needs that are natural to his human body, just the same as he needs to bathe or dress or sleep, but I refuse to think of him like that. It feels disrespectful to even think that he could be so carnally biased that sleeping with him would earn you a higher rank and station, rather than merit.

The thought of him brushing my lips stings me again and I wince, getting up from the window and throwing myself on the bed. There is something about watching the guests arrive that is causing my mind to lose itself, fixating on... I grit my teeth as I push my face into the pillow, not even trying to protect the curls Emily had set or the makeup that had been painted. The cotton pillow is soft against my made-up face and when I try to breathe in, my lungs are confused by the lack of oxygen. Good. If I knock myself out maybe I'll get out of the whole thing altogether.

There is a knock at the door and I dig my claws into the comforter. It's only been a few minutes since Emily left the room and already someone is coming to bother me. I breathe in the pillow quicker, hoping to speed up the process. There's the sound of the door opening and then an unexpected voice.

"You planning to fall through the floor to get to the party?" Bruno says. He bats at my shoe. "C'mon. He wants you downstairs."

What? So he can embarrass me? It was one thing when we were in the darkness of the control room, or even teasing remarks in front of Humak, but to do it in front of hundreds of strangers? "I'm not going," I muffle into the pillow.

"I don't know what you said, but you'd better get up before I make you," he says.

I turn my head just enough and find myself involuntarily sucking in clean air. "I said 'I'm not going', okay? You can't make me."

"For Oz's sake," he says, and then he yanks me by the ankle as I squeak in protest. "This is the hill you're going to die on? A stupid party is worth your sister's life?" He yanks me once more and I tumble to the floor, the wind going out of me in a yelp.

"No! I'll run away!" I say, scrambling to my feet. I say this, despite never having thought about it before or knowing how I would survive outside of the Emerald City with no money and a second mouth to feed. I don’t even know how I would get out of the palace without a guard stopping me.

"You look fine," he says. "Now, let's go."

"No," I say.

"What the hell is wrong with you?” he says “You see a ghost or something? There's food downstairs and drinks and dancing.” Dancing. The thought of the Wizard's hands on me again, the knowledge that I'd fall for it again like an idiot... The Wizard had magic in more ways than one.

"I don't want to dance," I say, "...with strangers, that is. Have you seen the Arjiki guards? They're frightening." They aren't, but it's better than confessing my relational problems to no-nonsense Bruno. What would he know of... whatever the Wizard and I were?

"Well, then you can dance with me then," he says.

I blink, having never considered the possibility before. The party would be better than hiding in my room upstairs because I would have an excuse to not see the Wizard. How could he dance with me if I filled my entire dance card with other people? Up here I ran the risk of him slipping away from the party to come torment me in private. "You mean it?" I ask. Bruno simply offers his arm, and I take it.

We take our time walking down to the Grand Ballroom. I ask Bruno how Leo is doing. Apparently, he got in trouble at school the other day for beating a kid up on the playground. I ask him if the kid deserved it and he laughs, asking me about Fileah instead. There's nothing new to report back besides telling him I'm trying to be on my best behavior so I can see her again. We don't talk about the riot. I hope Fileah has stopped talking about it by herself as I hadn't had the chance to tell her to. The Wizard has been keeping me busy with etiquette assignments and other stupid tasks that seem to take up the whole day past when visiting hours are over. As we enter the Grand Ballroom, I can feel the puzzle piece of the confusing social training click into place and realize that he had this party planned for a while and was truly planning to surprise me.

Tulle and taffeta skim across the floor in coiling circles as partners guide them along, sometimes breaking off and weaving in and out of the ladies and gentlemen, all the while laughing. Toward the front of the room parallel to the wall, and on the dais there are tables laden with food. As we draw closer I can see suckling pigs that have been roasted until bronzed, the skin pulled so tight that you could taste the way it would crackle in your mouth without ever sinking your teeth into it. There are turkeys that have been herbed and stuffed and are twice the size of the biggest one I've ever seen. In between the meats are bowls so big that you would have to carry them with both arms filled with buttered turnips, roasted brussel sprouts, sugared beets, whipped and airy potatoes, and several others that I ignore once I see the towers of desserts. The guests who are not dizzying themselves with merriment have taken seats along these tables, filling their plates with any and all of the offerings.

The table on the dais is packed. Fiyero, Humak, and some of their guards that I had seen earlier are seated on the left, a few strangers are seated on the right, and in dead-center there’s him. The Wizard's lips are pressed together in a hard line, goblet draped lazily in hand, and an empty seat beside him. His eyes are scanning the room, and I know he is looking for me.

"This was a mistake," I say, pressing against Bruno to try and get past him.

"I'll be here and ready to dance with you when it's time," he says reassuringly. He takes my wrist which now has a dance card attached to it. Someone must have slipped it on me while I was salivating over the food. Quickly, he pencils his name into two or three slots – I'm not sure how many as I'm watching the Wizard stare at me, not once breaking the gaze – and then he guides me up to the dais. "I'll come get you when it's time."

I climb the stairs on the right side of the dais, trying to find a seat that hasn't been taken already. Unfortunately, all of the seats at the table are labeled with place cards, little bits of cream cardstock that have been etched in curling script with names and titles. I try to keep my eyes on the whirling bodies of the dance floor and away from the Wizard's tiger-like gaze. The dancers seem to have moved onto a reel, two great ovals smashed together as couples take turns dancing down the aisle of refined and all-green and gold clothing. I watch intently, even as I take my seat next to him, even as I can smell the spiced cloud of his cologne, even as I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face to make it so hot that I wonder if I have a fever and might be excused from the party to undisturbed bed rest.

We sit like this for an eternity, letting the full orchestra swallow up our unsaid words, until a familiar voice asks, "Are you a big dancer?" It's Fiyero, goblet in hand, and much more fashionably dressed than the last time I saw him, a satin blue military jacket perfectly accompanying his blinding smile and the twinkle in his eyes.

I have to ask him to repeat himself, feigning that the orchestra is too loud to hear him. He does, and I swear I could go down to the Unionist chapel right now and thank the Unnamed God for getting me away from the man sitting next to me. "Oh yes!" I say. "I love dancing. I don't get to do it much, so I'm really trying to take it all in."

Prince Fiyero laughs at that. "Wouldn't it be better to take it in on the dance floor?" He offers me a hand, and I don't have to think twice before taking it.

I don't have to imagine that Fiyero is a heartbreaker back in Winkie Country. I can feel my own butterflies flap their wings in curiosity at how graceful and perfectly gentlemanlike he is: the way his hand warmly guides me by the waist, the way he laughs at anything that I say and always has the perfect banter ready to shoot back. Even his eyes, his hair, and his teeth are perfectly perfect, and yet I am still not completely sold. Stopping me from falling for him fully is almost equally the shock that a prince has asked me to dance with him when I had been sharing a bed for warmth and stealing ribbons weeks ago, and the fact that I can still feel the Wizard's eyes on me.

I look to the dais, and even though we are a good hundred feet away, I can see the anger seeping from him, how Humak who was sitting to his right looks at him nervously as if the man in the satin green tuxedo were going to explode and kill him in the process. Good, I think. It was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. It wouldn't hurt him to see me dancing with the enemy. It's just a little harmless fun so maybe he'd stop trying to mess with my head and toy with me.

I'm not familiar with the dance that plays next, but Fiyero is such an excellent partner that everyone who looks at us would think I had known it my whole life. He jokes with me about how the party hadn't really started until I showed up and I almost believe him. By the end of it, I have a stitch in my side from all of the dancing and the laughing. I feel as if I could down an entire bottle of fizzy wine the way I'm out of breath and giddy to go again. I don't need the wine as I feel a strange warmth spreading within me. Looking at Fiyero, I'm more than glad he came to the Emerald City, and not just glad that he got me away from the Wizard.

"Come on! Come on!" a man in spectacles that pinch his pupils into reptilian slits shouts. "Let's play a game of Blind Man's Buff!"

This sends the crowd into a tizzy of excitement, young women shrieking with delight and pushing each other, the gentlemen gathering closer to the bespectacled man.

"Blind Man's Buff?" I say, grabbing Fiyero's arm. "What is it?"

Fiyero's grin spreads wide in excitement and he pulls me into the throng of those who have had enough of dancing. The man in the lizard glasses is now waving a white scarf as if it were a flag of surrender as the mob pushes in.

"Who shall be our Blind Man?" Lizard Eyes asks.

Fiyero pulls me forward and pushes me to the front. "Take her!" he shouts, waving my hand above my head. "She's a virgin!"

"A virgin!?" Lizard Eyes exclaims.

I'm short-circuiting over them discussing whether I've slept with anyone before when Fiyero whispers in my ear, "It just means you've never played before, love." The butterflies are now beating their wings in earnest.

"Yes! Yes!" Lizard Eyes says. "It will be a special Lurlinemas treat, then. A real game to remember!" Quickly, Lizard Eyes blindfolds me, the world going dark as the soft and warm cashmere is wrapped snuggly around my eyes. Despite the scarf being white, there is still a green light that comes through, and I realize just how truly green the entire palace and city are if even a thick scarf can't block the verdant glow. "Should we make it a special game?" the voice of Lizard Eyes says.

"Lover's fate!" Fiyero shouts out.

"What's that?" I try to ask Lizard Eyes. However, I can't see him, and my guess as to where he is remains in the last place I saw him. I reach out to my right and touch nothing but air. This earns a laugh from the crowd.

"Lover's fate!" people agree, some even starting a chant.

"Lover's fate it will be!" Lizard Eyes says. He must have moved back behind me, I realize, turning in that direction. "You will have to search the room looking for people. Once you grab someone, you must identify them." He giggles.

"Sounds easy," I say. I hope I catch Fiyero, I think. He's familiar enough and I wouldn't mind an excuse to touch that perfect face of his.

"Well, it would be, except you can't use your hands," Lizard Eyes says. "You'll have to kiss them to figure it out."

I want to rip off the scarf and go hide under one of the banquet tables when Lizard Eyes grabs me by the shoulders and starts spinning me around and around until I'm so dizzy that I want to lay on the floor until my head comes back to normal. Even if I lay there all evening, it would never stop the spinning on account of how many strangers there were and that I would have to kiss one of them. The thought makes my stomach go cold, so I know that I have to find Fiyero. Maybe I’ll be glad that I came to the party after all. Maybe...

The mob that had gathered around Lizard Eyes is now quickly dispersing and reeling back in. Their whoops and hollers are growing distant and then occasionally they bump past me in taunt, but I don’t care. Frankly, there are too many of them, and I'm trying to pick out Fiyero's voice. The slight Winkie accent is what I'm looking for, the way it sparkles. I think I hear him 10 feet diagonally to the right of me. I go chasing after it and can hear his laugh as I fall through the air in my attempt to catch him.

"If I had known you wanted to kiss me that bad," he says, "we could have skipped the dancing."

I'm following his voice once again, trying to sneak up on him. "Okay," I say. "So then get over here." Another snatch and a miss.

"Nuh-uh," he says. "I'm undefeated in this game. You can kiss me afterward if you really want to."

I make a dash for him and miss the grab again. I stomp my foot, willing him to hold still.

"You know, you're supposed to chase other people too," he says. Another missed grab.

"Well nobody told me that," I retort back. I fake going after other people, trying to keep his location in mind. When I'm satisfied with enough squeals and laughs, I taunt him again. "Maybe you're undefeated because you're scared."

"I'm not scared," he says. 8 feet to my left. I reach for the rustle of a skirt that I hear closest to me, pretending to chase it as I make a semicircle to cut him off. I shoot my hand out and grab hold of an arm clad in a soft satin. The blue and gold dress military jacket.

"Too easy," I say with a smirk. The room has gone silent and I can't stop grinning at the thought of the Arjiki prince kissing the Wizard’s special guest. Serve’s him right. "Kiss me."

His fingertips are warm as his hands cradle my face. The room is still holding its breath as I feel just the brush of his lips against my own.

"You call that a kiss?" I whisper. "Kiss me."

His lips crush mine openly, an invitation. I let my tongue slide against his lower lip as his tongue slips against mine and into my mouth, pressing my tongue back into submission. It's everything I can do to not fall into his arms and let him carry me out of the party. He was certainly better than any schoolyard kisses and there was a promise of domination in the way his tongue danced with mine that sent a thrill up my spine.

When he pulls away, his name is already on my lips as I tear the scarf off. I don't make it past the first syllable.

It's him. There's a look of hurt in his eyes and I can't help but feel like an idiot. I was so wrapped up in the idea of kissing Fiyero that I couldn't even recognize the same small scars that had touched my hands earlier that day or the way his mustache and goatee had scratched the delicate skin of my lips.

So many things are crashing and burying me like an avalanche: the way he's looking at me, the way the room is still silent and staring at us, the way Fiyero has a shit-eating grin and I can tell he's holding in a laugh, the way I liked it and still want more. This last part is what sends me running from the room and out into the winding halls of the Emerald Palace.

I need to get away from him, to think this out. How was I ever going to face him again? I remember telling Bruno about how I would run away, and now I'm seriously considering it. How much could a train ticket possibly cost? Fileah and I could probably run away and live in the jungle off of the fruits of the forest until we found somewhere nice in Munchkinland to house us. Maybe Bruno had some family outside of the Emerald City that could hide us.

I burst through the hallway and find myself back in the throne room. Sweet Oz, anywhere but here. The face is well hidden amongst the vines again. I consider going up into it to cry – it'd probably be the last place he'd expect to find me – when I hear a queer wooden sound. It sounds like a penny made of wood is spinning around and around before it falls flat. Then the crash happens, followed by cursing.

I run over to the source of the commotion to see Humak Tigelaar with a funny-looking object in his hands.

"Humak," I say through a tear-constricted throat, "you're missing the party."

Humak laughs nervously at this, agreeing with me. It is as he's trying to slip away that I realize what he's holding.

"The Grimmerie," I breathe.

Humak's smile drops and instantaneously he's bolting into the hallways.

All I wanted to do was to be left alone, to just go somewhere where no one would find me while I tried to sort out what would be best for me, what would be best for Fileah. No, in truth, it was just what would be best for me. If I had really been selfless I would have played whatever part he had set for me and done it happily. Ribbons were a fraction of his generosity, and she could have had anything in the world if I had just played the stupid part.

I feel like Lizard Eyes has spun me around and around for a second time as the machine that is Oz the Great and Terrible seems to be floating up with its ropes towards the ceiling, the ceiling falling to the floor. I stumble, feeling for any sort of familiarity or guidepost in what to do, and I keep stumbling, footstep after footstep until I reach the entrance to the Officer's wing.

My voice sounds a thousand yards away as I yell for help.

#wicked fanfiction #wicked 2024 #the wizard x reader #the wizard fanfiction #wicked 2024 fanfic

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the-universal-sun · 2 days ago

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little lee being scared/having a phobia of the doctors? your stories are such a comfort to me and i have a doctors appointment tomorrow 🙁

Oh no! I hope your Doctor’s appointment goes well! I have one on Tuesday :/. Thank you for your request! I had fun writing it! I hope you enjoy reading it, though it’s less phobia than you might have wanted! TW: mention of needles, bloodwork, and medicine

As always, I’m open to helpful comments and feedback! But also just to talk if you need to! I hope every one has a good day!

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“Stanley Caryn Pines get out from under those covers right this instant.” Ford’s voice was stern, having tried to get Stan to leave to room for nearly half an hour now. His patience with his brother, usually so endless, was running thin. It was awful that they had to do this on a day when Stan was regressed-but then again, neither of them could control when his brother felt small or not.

“Mmmm-No! No Doctor-no!” Came a muffled shout from under the blanket, a figure huddled underneath it for protection and safety. Safety from the scary doctors and needles and icky icky medicine. Stanford was trying to make him see a doctor and let them steal his blood! He needs his blood, doesn’t his brother know that? How could he betray Stan like this?

“It’s just to make sure you’re fine before we go traversing the seas! I had to do it, so you do you! We don’t need either of us getting sick or running out of medicine when we’re weeks away from land, that’s dangerous. Life threatening even!” If Ford could change the day of this appointment he could, he knows Stan’s terrified of doctors, he always has been, but to see him to scared when little? Beyond his annoyance, it brings an ache to his chest. He hates being the one to do this, feeling like he’s betraying his brother to the highest degree again, but they have no choice. They’re leaving in a month and this was the only appointment they could get in for Stan. The next available slot is in February. How, Ford doesn’t know, Gravity Falls only has a population of around 1,000 people, give or take, and he seriously doubts all of them are seeing the Doctor every day. Then again, there’s only one Doctor, and while he was thorough, he was questionable in his bedside manner and execution of his physical. But, alas, this is the day of his brother’s appointment, and he will make Stan go.

Ford’s train of thought is cut off by the sound of a muffled whine-one promising tears if Stan isn’t consoled soon. He sigh, moving to sit beside his brother’s blanket clad body, resting his hand on his back and just patting softly, trying to think of some soothing words to ease his Little Lee’s mind. Because he still needs him to go to the appointment, but he’d rather not do it with the other man kicking and screaming. And crying, no doubt. After a few minutes of silence and some stolen glances at a clock in the corner, Ford finds the words to hopefully calm Stan down.

“Lee, I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you go, I hate to see you so scared, but I have to-“ another whine cuts in and Ford lowers his head until his brow is touching the back of his brothers head, “I know, I know. It was hard for me, too, after 30 years of taking care of myself. But I want us to be safe and healthy for our adventures on the Stan O’ War, and that includes bloodwork and medicine.” He sighs, changing his hand from patting his brother’s back to rubbing it, thinking through his next words. “How about this, Lee, you stay for 30 minutes, and not only can you get a whole roll of fun stickers, we can go get lunch at the reopened Greasy’s, is that a deal?” Ford hopes Stan takes this deal, he loves stickers and Greasy’s diner. While they have an abundant amount of stickers left over from Mabel, Greasy’s just opened yesterday after having been closed since Weirdmaggedon-it’s been a month and a half since Stan’s had food from his favorite diner, he’s been itching for it.

“Gweasy’s?” Stan popped his head out, voice muffled from chewing on his shirt, which Ford promptly pulls out from his mouth. Stan loves Greasy’s, and he’s been wanting it for so long, maybe 39 minutes isn’t so bad if he can get a treat. But stealing his blood, hmm….he’s still not sure, the needles are bound to be big and scary, and while Stan is a super brave boy, he doesn’t know if he’s brave enough for that. Stanford must have read his mind, because he offers another bribe-that’s what they are after all, Stan knows all about bribes-one that has him far more interested than stickers.

“And we can go to Portland for the USS Blueback Submarine tour.” And Stan’s in. He’s been wanting to see the Blueback for ever! For ages, even, but he’s never been able too-not enough free time or anybody to watch the Shack. Or anyone to watch him, knowing how the excitement might make him regress, and he can’t do that by himself when in public. That’s bad, bad, bad and seems very scary. But if Ford’s with him and it happens, he’ll be safe and Ford can show his scary dog face to anyone who’s mean to him! Stan scrambles out of his bed and races towards the door, he’s got to go now so they can hurry and see the submarine!

“Slow your roll, Lee. You need to get dressed and ready first, that means dentures in and dressed in pants and a shirt with your hair brushed.” Ford pulls him to a stop, making him stand still before going to his dresser for clothes. Oh, guess Stan forgot to get dressed today, he’s still in his icky and itchy big Adult pajamas. Which he quickly shucks off, holding his arms out for Ford to help him get dressed. His brother laughs when he turns and sees Stan like that, but when he whines and bounces, Sixer quickly gets to pulling the shirt over his head.

“Okay now. All dressed, dentures in?” Stan smiles widely, his new dentures shining, “Perfect! Let’s go!” It doesn’t really hit Stan until they’re walking to his car that he’s going to the Doctors office and he’s going to get poked and prodded at. He freezes, stiffening up and clutching his arms, his body beginning to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. Are his brother’s bribes really worth it? What if the doctor is mean or-or the needles are huge and take all his blood? Can he really do it? He wishes he could bring-A touch to his shoulder startled Stan out of his thoughts, Stanford looking at Stan with the most gentle look he’s ever seen. Well, if he’s here with Stan, maybe he could do this.

Stanley gasps as Ford presses Shanklin 2 into his hands, clutching the stuffed toy tightly as Ford leads him into the back seat and buckles him in. “I figured your friend would get much too scared waiting here for you, Lee, so he’s coming with us so you can teach him to be brave. Can you do that, Lee?” It’s a low blow almost, but by the way Stan resolutely nods and puts on his best brave face, Ford knew it had worked. For now at least, they’ll see how it goes when he gets blood drawn-he did request a butterfly needle for Stan, so hopefully he’s not as scared when he sees it’s not the thick needles they had as children. “I’m going to be right there with you, too, Lee. I won’t be going anywhere. I might need you to hold my hand if I get scared. If that’s alright with you?” He laughs at his brother’s stern nodding. That’s Stan for you, always willing to be a rock for his brother, his own feelings aside.

Ford buckled himself in, adjusting the mirror before turning on the radio, some old blues music softly playing from it as he slowly backs out onto the paved road. Internally he hopes, glancing back at Stan softly bobbing his head and rubbing Shanklin 2’s tail, that Stan forgets about the Greasy’s promise; the food there gives him such a stomach ache.

Stan does not forget about Greasy’s

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nopainnowhump · 1 day ago

Text

Cracks in the Glass Pt.6

(TW): forced hygiene care, non-consensual touch in a medical context, sedative use, physical restraint, crying, emotional distress.

Thomas stepped out of the cell block, the heavy door sealing shut behind him with a quiet hiss. He paused, running a hand down his face, before heading toward the nurses’ station. The past few days had been... manageable. She was taking her pills without a fight now, eating her meals as long as there was something in it for her—a reward system that worked well enough for now.

But something nagged at him. He hadn’t noticed it at first, too focused on stopping the screaming and glass-banging, but today it was glaringly obvious.

“She hasn’t showered,” he said as he reached the station, setting his laptop down on the counter.

Anna glanced up from her clipboard, her usual warm smile slipping into a look of mild concern. “Since she got here?”

“Not once,” Thomas replied, leaning against the counter. “Her clothes are filthy, her hair’s a mess, and she just looks... rough. I know that incision sites almost healed, but I’m worried it’s gonna get infected with the way she’s acting”

Anna sighed, setting her clipboard aside. “We’ve been giving her space to adjust. I guess we all assumed she’d take care of it when she was ready.”

“She hasn’t,” Thomas said firmly. “And I don’t think she will, not unless we step in.”

Anna nodded, grabbing a fresh set of clothes and towels from the nearby shelf. “Alright. Do you want me to talk to her about it? Maybe she’d respond better to me.”

Thomas shook his head. “No. She tolerates me—barely—but that’s more than she gives anyone else. I’ll tell her. If she’s willing to cooperate, great. If not…” He trailed off, glancing at the towels in Anna’s hands.

“If not, you’ll need help,” Anna finished softly.

Thomas approached her cell again, this time with a stack of clean clothes and towels in hand. He’d left only minutes ago, but this was something he couldn’t put off any longer.

Through the glass, he saw her sitting cross-legged on the bed, her chin propped in her hand. She looked bored, her other hand idly tracing invisible shapes on the blanket.

He knocked lightly on the glass, and her head snapped up, her expression shifting instantly to irritation. She stared at him, her brows pulling together as her eyes flicked down to the bundle in his hand.

“Back so soon?” her glare seemed to say, though she didn’t speak or move from her spot.

Thomas held her gaze, unfazed by the unspoken challenge. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Her eyes narrowed, flicking toward the towels and clothes before locking back on him. Suspicion was written all over her face.

“It’s been a few days now,” Thomas continued, choosing his words carefully, “and there’s something that needs to be addressed.”

She tilted her head slightly, her attention piqued despite herself.

“You're gonna have to take a shower”

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

The shower room is cold, the chill of the air hitting me as soon as they shove me inside. My feet slip on the wet tile, and I stumble forward, catching myself with a hand against the freezing floor.

“Watch your step,” Kyle’s voice cuts through the room, smooth and mocking. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself before the fun even starts.”

They rip my clothes away, and the cold rushes over me like a second assault. I thrash weakly, but the guards only laugh under their breath, shoving me toward the center of the room.

The water hits me before I can prepare—a powerful blast of icy cold that steals the air from my lungs. I gasp, choking as it sprays directly into my face. The freezing pressure stings against my skin, pounding into me without mercy.

“Oh, come on,” Kyle drawls from the corner, his arms crossed as he watches. “You’re not going to cry about a little water, are you? I thought you were tougher than that.”

I try to turn away, but the water follows me, soaking every inch of my trembling body. My wounds sting as the icy spray tears into them, reopening scabs and sending fresh rivulets of blood down my arms and legs.

The tiles beneath me are slick, and I fall hard onto my knees. My hands slap against the floor, but the water doesn’t let up. It hammers down on my back, driving me further into the freezing puddles gathering around me.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Kyle says, his voice light but sharp enough to cut. “Cooperate, and maybe we’ll even let you dry off when this is over.”

I cough violently as the water hits my face again, forcing its way into my nose and mouth. I gag, doubling over as I try to catch my breath, but the spray keeps coming, relentless. My whole body shakes, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

The water cuts off abruptly, leaving me trembling on the slick floor. My skin burns from the cold, my wounds throbbing, but the silence is worse. It leaves space for his voice to fill the room completely.

Kyle crouches down just out of my reach, his expression calm but laced with venom. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

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

My screams tear through the present, raw and guttural as I slam my fists into the glass. The sting radiates up my arms, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.

Through the blur of my tears, I see him standing there—calm, steady, infuriatingly unmoving.

“Listen,” Thomas says, his voice low and firm, cutting through the chaos. “You can do this on your own, or we’ll help you. But one way or another, it’s happening.”

The words twist in my head, feeding the fire in my chest. I scream again, slamming my fists harder, until my whole body shakes with the effort.

The door hisses open, and I whirl around, my back hitting the wall as I brace myself. My breath comes in sharp, jagged bursts, my tears hot against my skin.

Thomas steps into the cell, his hands raised slightly. His tone is steady but not harsh. “You’re overwhelmed. I get that. But this doesn’t have to go like this. You can let us help you, or—”

I lunge at him, cutting him off with another scream as I swing wildly.

He catches my arms easily, his grip firm but controlled. “Hey,” he says, holding me steady as I thrash and kick. “I know you don’t want this, but you need to calm down. This isn’t about hurting you.”

I twist harder, but he doesn’t let go. My screams turn into sobs, raw and broken, as Anna steps into the room behind him. The sight of the needle in her hand sends a fresh wave of panic surging through me.

I kick out again, harder this time, but Thomas shifts his stance, keeping me in place. His voice drops, softer now but unrelenting. “This is to help you settle. You're gonna be ok. Just breathe.”

Anna moves quickly, murmuring something I can’t hear over the pounding in my head. I feel the sharp sting of the needle in my arm and cry out, tears spilling faster as the cold burn spreads.

My movements slow, my body betraying me as the sedative pulls at my limbs. My kicks weaken, my thrashing turning into trembling.

Thomas lowers me gently to the floor, keeping his grip steady as I collapse against the cold tile. “We’ll be back in a few minutes, ok? I want you to calm down for a minute,” he says, his voice steady.

They leave quietly, the door hissing shut behind them.

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

The door hisses open again, and I jerk awake, my heart thudding weakly in my chest. Thomas and Anna enter, their footsteps soft but deliberate.

The sound of running water fills the air, and my breath quickens. I let out a soft, broken whimper, my head lolling against the wall as tears stream down my face.

Thomas crouches in front of me, his voice low but steady. “Hey,” he says gently, meeting my bleary eyes. “We’re going to help you get cleaned up, alright? I know you don’t want this, but it has to happen. I’ll be here the whole time. You’re gonna be ok.”

I let out a weak, trembling sob, too tired to pull away as he slides his arms under me. “No…” I cry softly, the sound more like a plea than a protest.

“I know,” he says, lifting me carefully. My head droops against his chest, and I shiver as the cool air of the bathroom hits my skin.

The sound of the water running makes my stomach twist, and I let out another soft whimper. Anna is waiting, kneeling beside the tub with clean towels and supplies.

Thomas sets me down gently on a small stool, his hands steady as Anna begins to remove my clothes. “You’re alright,” he murmurs, his voice calm but firm. “I know this is hard, but it’ll be over soon.”

I sob quietly, trembling as Anna works quickly, her touch careful but methodical.

They lower me into the tub, and I tense, bracing for the icey water to hit me. Instead, the warmth of the water wraps around me. It’s not comforting, not really, but it’s better than I expected.

Still, I can’t stop crying. My body shakes with each quiet sob, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

Anna starts to clean me with a washcloth, her hands gentle but thorough. I flinch with every touch, my hands twitching to push her away, but Thomas is there, his grip firm on my wrists.

“You’re doing good,” he says softly, holding me steady. “Just a little longer.”

Anna’s hand moves carefully, the warm washcloth gliding over my skin. When it reaches the raised scars on my back, her touch slows, the cloth passing over them with deliberate gentleness, as though trying to avoid reopening wounds that had long since closed.

I let out a weak cry, my head shaking as tears drip into the water. Anna’s voice is soft, soothing. “It’s okay,” she says, her words barely registering through the haze. “You’re alright. Just let me finish, and it’ll be done.”

When she moves to my hair, I snap. My hands shoot up, grabbing at her arm.

“Whoa,” Thomas says sharply, pulling my hands back firmly but not harshly. “She’s just washing your hair. That’s it. Let her finish.”

Anna doesn’t flinch, her touch remaining steady as she strokes my head gently. “You’re alright,” she murmurs, her tone soft and patient. “I’m almost done.”

The motion is soothing despite myself, her fingers working through the tangles with a care I hadn’t expected. My sobs taper off into soft hiccups, and I nod off for a moment, the exhaustion pulling at me.

I jerk awake as Thomas lifts me out of the water, the cool air hitting my skin and making me shiver. He wraps me in a towel, holding me securely as Anna dries me off, her hands quick but careful.

They guide me to sit on the edge of the tub, my body swaying weakly. Anna brushes my hair, but the sensation grates on my frayed nerves. “Mmm,” I whimper, twisting away.

“It’s okay,” Thomas says. Once shes done she places the brush down. “I’ll take it from here.”

Anna leaves to change the sheets while Thomas kneels in front of me with a toothbrush. I lock my mouth shut. “Do you want to try, or should I do it for you?” he asks gently.

I let out a small whimper, then reach for the toothbrush weakly. My hands fumble with it as I half-heartedly brush, but my head droops mid-motion.

Thomas sighs softly, taking it from my hand. He brushes my teeth quickly but carefully, his movements efficient but gentle.

When Anna returns, they dress me in soft, warm clothes and thick socks. My body feels too heavy to move, tears slipping silently down my cheeks as they tuck me into bed. Anna lays a heated blanket over me, the warmth sinking into my trembling form.

Thomas crouches beside the bed, his voice quieter now, almost apologetic. “I know this was hard,” he says, his tone steady. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. But you’re clean, warm, and done for now. Just rest.”

He lingers for a moment before standing, and they both leave, the door clicking softly behind them.

I close my eyes, the exhaustion pressing down like a weight I can’t escape. The warmth of the blanket helps, but the tears still come, quiet and unending.

#caretaker #experiment whump #whump #whump community #whump writing #whumpee #lab whump #forced sedation #whump scenario #whumpblr #whump tropes

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wakacreations · 3 days ago

Text

Infernal Happy Holidays

I wish everyone a happy holidays! Santa Waka made it in time for Christmas lol. Anyways I hope you all enjoy and take care! I'm going to go pass out in the sleigh. If anyone's curious about the song lyrics it's Merry Sinsmas by Samuel Haft & Yoav Landau.

Zevlor:

There is a fleeting wonder when looking upon these flurries with renewed but still tired eyes. I hold few memories of this time of year. One recollection bleed into another sparsely did I have any to covet so dearly. When was the last time I partook in these winter festivities, would come to cross my mind. I used to have a family once long ago before the city was plagued by undead. Maybe it comes with time that I have forgotten their names but not their faces. A crackling fire from the hearth I used to nestle in close under mounting furs. Getting scolded by loved ones for leaving a trail of crumbs from sneaking about to consume some baked treats in my youth.

I have since then spent most of my life away in the midst of redden snow drifts. Another skirmish for I to be sent to the wilds or to simply stand guard outside the city’s borders. Though I had become a quiet observer of these holidays. I did commit to one tradition; to share a reluctant pint with the other Hellriders when the city was safe once again. Though does it still count in celebration of the season if the act was only so brief? Well depends upon your interpretation truly I suppose. Maybe I am a sentimental fool. The Hell’s were never the most idyllic welcoming environment for holiday cheer. Though we had to be very particular about caroling down below, you know. Too uncivilized for the local residence of the Hells for any Faerunian holiday to take root there but we made do. Now this time of year has come again once more. No longer am I greeted by the clash of metal, the uneasiness of reaching nights nor the endless days. I am slowly coming to peace with the tiredness that I can never be rid of. A life long lived and filled with rich emotions littering my skin. There is a pounding in my chest that won’t cease. Honestly this is a recent development. A feeling that I wasn’t sure I was capable of. With each of my steps there was trepidation not of tragedy but of possibilities as your steps aligned with mine. The cold touch of winter leaves their impression upon our cheeks and nose as we chase its delicate beauty. The winds used to howl long lost voices replaced with familiar hearty laughter rings in my ears. I can’t help but stare in awe. There are moments left to witness. Our battered hands falling in hands. Moments left to remember. Stained boots lead a gentle steady pace. Moments to cherish. With a bashful smile that meets the eyes, “happy holidays my love.” Moments to yearn for. A heartbeat goes in sync. Moments left to live for.

Rolan:

I always had complicated feelings about the holidays. There are many who enjoy this time of year and those who can't be bothered. My first experience celebrating was in the orphanage. The first time I snuck out I saw the twinkling lights of Baldur’s Gate and later in Elturel, walking alone in winter night markets. I was young then. My hands have since healed but there are still faint scars from my time being a lowly tiefling beggar. I was lucky enough to have met my mother as she was freely giving out pastries on one of those frigid nights. This is one of the holidays I spare no expense to celebrate and partake in. I used to dream as a child that I would not be alone during this time of year. Don't dwell on that too much. I have never been alone since I had Cal, Lia and my mother for a time. Time I still look back on fondly except for the teasing from those troglodytes. Now I have Cal, Lia and… Now you. It is an odd feeling to start over again once more. I watched you as you helped set up the decorations. Cal and Lia are busy fighting over where to place the tree. Those two haven't changed from even back then. I feared we would never have a home to celebrate in but look to where I have found myself. I don't know where I would be without you. “Cal! Lia! We will sort that out later! Tav has finished decorating the fireplace,” I called behind from my latest project. “You have the scrying eye ready to capture, Rolan? Are you sure it will work?” My little brother poked his head out from behind the mass of leaves. “Don’t worry I have tested it well Cal.” I ushered for them to come sit down before the fire. “Tav let's hurry before those idiots steal all the pillows,” Lia tossed you a couple. You two raced to sit down. Children, all of you. After much arguing and equal distribution of pillows as much as Lia protested. Everyone is finally settled in well… almost. “Move your big head Lia, I can't see!” If you two don't stop roughhousing… “Well stop slouching and maybe then you can see!” You two are grown tieflings! “Quiet! The both of you!” I snapped. Cal and Lia sat straight up in attention. Your hand found my own with a reassuring squeeze, I took a deep breath in. Gods! They're such a headache. “You alright,” you looked up from where you laid on my shoulder. “Better now,” I smiled back. But I wouldn't have it any other way. “Three… Two… One… Happy holidays!” “Did the eye go off?” You idiots. Happy holidays, Tav.

Raphael:

I was always one for grandeur celebrations. I have hosted my own fair share with immaculate planning and the finest quality materials the realms have to offer. There is a certain charm to the city, seeing through the thin veil placed upon their wide toothy grins of these mortals. Desperation hangs heavily through the chill in the fresh air like the first savoring breath in after wrung lungs. Always a familiar comfortable formality, a reminder of the impending frost. There is a wide variety of handcrafted decorations I have come to appreciate. The brilliance of these gemstones adorned by the lost souls wandering through the congested cobblestone paths, ever looking for a humble refuge from the seeping claws of winter's hand. With utmost care I would enjoy plucking the twin stones to examine the craftsmanship but I will save the activity for another time. Under their breaths, the notes of old traditional hymns wishing the downfall of passersby. If only there were new original compositions this year. My what a delight would that be to my ears. The prime season of contracts and to reap one's dues had arrived. There is a long waiting list but should I start with my favorite clients? Where to begin I wonder. Whom would be my first claim?

You kiss me on the cheek and look me in the eye. The wisp of words grabbed my attention. A love ballad, how often are those to be strummed by foolish bards. You tell a lie that you will soon return to me. The soft patter of keys and the familiar soothing resonance carries above the chaotic chatter of the city. Well this is quite a surprise as I stepped away from the busy square. Where have I heard this voice before? I loved you then, Where was the source coming from? I looked around at the nearby taverns. I love you still I followed the tune through the snaking alleyways. Whomever they are, a siren indeed. And now, it won’t be long until you’re here at last. I was greeted by a crumbling home. The sound bled from the battered door before me. And then I ask, “If your heart still burns for me?” I peered through from a side window. There was a figure hunched over surrounded by clutter. Barely any light illuminated the dwelling. I would travel every ring of Hell By the flicker of candle light I caught a glimpse. Just to see if you’ll be mine. Mouse? Know that you are on my mind. You chuckled, the last of the chord settled atop the keys.

“I suppose that is how far my creative genius will take me today.” You yawned, arching your back into a full body stretch. Ah, so it is you, little mouse. Looking over your shoulder our eyes briefly met. Snap. “Raphael?” It has been awhile since I heard my name on your lips. “I must have been mistaken,” rubbing your palms against your lids. There was no one there. You turned back towards the piano. The lid of the instrument began to close shut. “Alone for the holidays?” You went deathly still, the hairs on the back of your neck stood. “Don’t stop. Keep playing. I wonder how the piece will end.” I could hear the thumping of that heart of yours like the fast ticking of a metronome. No that tempo won’t do. “Why are you here, devil?” You stared up at the wall in front of you. “I thought I heard a little mouse squeaking from the square. Only to discover a sweet lonely songbird in their place,” I purred into your ear. You were the one to invite a devil into your home. Who else would you be singing to? “Get out,” you held firm. “Don’t you miss me?” You shivered when I leaned in close. My fingers splayed onto the keys. “Indulge me and I will make it worth your while. Why spoil the holiday cheer in the air?” I began to play my own composition. “Since when did devil's care about mortal holidays?” Your ears perked up at the chord progression. “Mortal holidays hold a special place in the Hells. It marks the time where we are most productive.” Ah, it seems you remember these notes quite well as beads of sweat start to form on your temple. Though I do prefer an organ to play my final act. “Fuck off!” You ceased my wrists for my fingers to still at once. “The longer you hold my attention, mouse. One less soul inked onto my parchment. I am a very busy devil. Now shall we?” I missed this banter of ours. Reluctantly you let go. I placed my hands to where your fingers danced on the keys. You shut your eyes and cursed under your breath. Vaguely I could make out the words, you should have casted silence. Even if you had, I would still find my ways to listen.

“Let's start from the beginning then.” Your hands shoved my own out of the way. Eager, are we? “No, let's start further along in the passage at the line. What was it again, mouse? Your confession?” “You pack a bag, you say goodbye,” pressing down onto the keys. “You never said that phrase,” arching a brow. “I did at the very beginning. Which confession are you referring to in the piece, Raphael?” Don’t play dumb mouse. "The part where you say I lo…" “I am waiting, devil.” You spoke as if you had other plans for the evening. “Let's move on to the next couple of lines.” “You kiss me on the cheek and look me in the eyes. You tell a lie that you would return to me.” It was no lie, little mouse. Your hand froze atop the keys. Afraid to say it once more? “Sing the next phrase, mouse.” Come now you spoke it effortlessly before. “I already did and now it's your turn,” your playing resumed. “I will finish the song if you sing along in harmony. I will not entertain you otherwise.” Hmm? There are many souls waiting for me, mouse. What is stopping I from leaving out the door to go off and collect? “You will never know the ending of the piece.” Who are you to be in a position for negotiations? “Do you honestly believe that I-” You moved to slam the lid. “Alright! Insufferable pipsqueak.” I should have you hanged like an ornament. I cleared my throat, the piano accompaniment came in.

I loved you then, I loved you still. And now, it won’t be long until you’re here at last. And then I ask, "if your heart still burns for me?” I would travel every ring of Hell Just to see if you’ll be mine. “I thought you were a bard that was above singing a love ballad,” I could hear that grin of yours. “I thought you were above serenading for a devil but here we are. You have impressed me. To think you would compose such a ballad and expect the devil not to appear.” You squirmed in your seat and rightfully so for having me sing along. “... Happy holidays, devil.” Well that is a surprise. Maybe we can make this a time honored tradition. I will have you singing my own original work. With a better… as I looked around at the clutter rat's nest you've accumulated.. scenery would be putting it generously. “Likewise, mouse.” You glanced up at me awaiting for there to be more words to utter. My you are already pouting, remember that for next year when you will celebrate in my home. “Happy holidays, little mouse.”

Haarlep:

Sometimes I miss the ice and snow of Cania. “Haarlep, you ass!” But the more that I pondered the thought. “Well that's on you mousey! You never knew how to dodge my projectiles,” I ducked as you threw another ball of ice. The more that I came to the same conclusion I missed being able to wander. “Such a naughty little mouse. You said we were to merely play in the snow, not the ice.” You rolled your eyes at me. My have I seen you do such an act one too many- “You are too cruel!’ I wiped away the snow from my face. There you stood laughing as I was made to stare up at you where I lay in the snow. The mortal realm is missing the otherworldly luxuries I have grown fond of. You squealed as I ran towards you. But I suppose it is a worthy exchange… “I caught you little thief.” For I too never grow hungry. The endless blanket of white was beneath us. Well you were always eager to satiate my appetite. “What is to be my reward?” You have always piqued my curiosity. Seeing you panting before me, hair all tussled from exertion, a flush across your cheeks. Such a tasty mortal you were. “Whatever you desire Haarlep.” You chuckled, reaching out to cup my face. There was always fun to be had with you. “Whatever I desire. You won't like that. Are you sure about that, my sweet pet?” My face came down to yours. You nodded your head like it was the easiest decision to make. I will enjoy every last moment with you. “Happy holidays, Haarlep.” Your voice hitched as I laid my hands atop your wrists. You were always fun to toy with. I will never grow tired of you. “Happy holidays,” I pulled back. With a flick of my tail you were covered in snow. “Haarlep!!!” You screeched at me when I took off into the air. I told you already, but you never do listen. “I thought you would have better aim by now,” I weaved through your barrage of snowballs. My heart's desire will always be to use you for my amusement. “Haarlep, where are you going?” You paused your movements as you watched me flew further away. That heart of yours is quite delectable. “I will be waiting for you at our home.” It should always be pounding in your chest. “Haarlep, no!” You dropped the snowballs in hand. “Come back!” You quickly ran to chase after me. So, you do enjoy my company. Always think of me whenever you feel that beat of your heart. “You were the one who brought us here!” You attempted to wave me down but I happily waved back with a smile. You are mine for the rest of your lifetime. Enjoy it while you last and I will enjoy you. “Happy Holidays, my precious mousey. See you very soon.”

#bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor nation #bg3 rolan #rolan #holy rolan empire #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 haarlep #haarlep #haarlep the incubus

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 1 day ago

Text

Her sweet peach

Roronoa Zoro x reader. NSFW!

Companion to His fourth sword.

*****

Peaches have long been your favourite fruit, ever since you begged your mother to buy one every time you accompanied at the market, to eat on the way home; the juicy, sweet taste filling your senses is still one of your life's small pleasures, enough to elicit a smile even in your darkest days.

Which is why you have been so happy to discover that the small, peaceful island your crew has just docked at is a horticulture centre, the favourable climate allowing the growing of a great number of fruits among which bananas, apples, plums… and peaches.

The sun is shining, you’re free to enjoy an afternoon of rest since you’ve spent the morning helping Franky patch up the damages the Sunny had suffered after your last battle, and you have visited the nearby village to buy a few of the largest peaches you have ever seen.

This is living, you happily think to yourself as, clad in your favourite bikini, you lie on a beach chair, your sunglasses protecting your eyes from the sun’s rays. You're the only one among your friends who has chosen to spend the afternoon sunbathing on the deck, while the others take care of the ship or find other ways to occupy their time, which is why you expect to remain alone…

… until the sound of heavy footsteps, and the familiar clink of metal touching skin -specifically, of swords in their sheaths gently bumping against the leg of the man who carries them- announces the arrival of the person you have been thinking about more and more often, and deeply, over the last few weeks.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Zoro.” you answer happily as you take off your sunglasses to observe, and admire, the tall figure of the swordsman now standing near your chair “Finished your training for the day?”

He nods, sweat glistening on his chest and shoulders; naked to the waist he's even a more attractive sight than usual, which is saying something, especially for someone who, like you, has had two months to appreciate Zoro’s beauty up close.

You propose to take another chair so that the two of you can sunbathe together, but Zoro shakes his head, and sits on a corner of your chair, content in your company just like you are in his. You share a smile, not bothering to speak to express what you’re both thinking about.

“You bought something at the market?” he asks, noticing the brown paper bag placed on the deck near you, from which you are picking a new fruit to enjoy; at this rate you’ll spoil your appetite for dinner, but you’re confident Sanji will forgive you.

“I did! These peaches are really delicious. Do you want one?”

Zoro smiles, amused by your enthusiasm; he has taken advantage of the closeness to start caressing your calf, the touch of his calloused hand moving up and down your skin both gentle and possessive. “Let’s share one.”

You do, taking turns in biting into the soft, fuzzy surface, until only the central stone remains and juice has dampened your fingers. “Wasn’t it good? I’ll have to go buy some more before we sail, they’ll last longer if I keep them in the fridge…”

“It was really good.” Zoro admits “Of course, I know an even better one.”

“Sorry?”

“I know of a peach that is sweeter and juicier than any other - than any other thing, really. I’ve never tasted it, but I just know it is delicious.”

You blink, staring at Zoro’s completely serious, even solemn, expression as you struggle to comprehend the meaning of his words. “What are you talking about? The seller at the market assured me this is the sweetest sort among the many cultivated here on the island.”

“I’m not talking about a variety of fruit; it’s a single, very special peach.”

“I… I don’t understand…”

But you should, after two months spent fooling around, one going on dates every time your ship docked at a new island or town, and exactly thirty-one days after the one you got to taste Zoro’s fourth sword for the first time. Yes, all things considered you should have expected this would happen, and that Zoro would find a way to settle the score between the two of you.

But no matter how clueless you are, this is the sort of surprise you can’t help but appreciate.

“You want me to show you?”

“I… guess so…” you answer, still confused -how can a particularly sweet, single peach exist? Even if such a distinction made sense, one should have to eat the fruit to judge it- and you see Zoro grin, the satisfied glint in his eyes expressing that he managed to get you exactly where he wanted you to be.

“Right…”

He moves slowly, with the sinuous and deliberate grace of a panther approaching his prey, as he stretches over you, swinging a leg over the beach chair and then resting his hands on the sides of the backrest. Soon his face is close enough to yours you’re breathing the same air, and there’s something in Zoro’s eyes, and in his smile, that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Zoro…”

“Let me taste you.” he murmurs, and a moment later he has pressed his lips to yours.

You kiss avidly for a couple of minutes, but when you raise your hands to touch Zoro’s hair and face, he gently but resolutely moves them away. “Let me.” he mumbles, and a moment later you can feel his tongue caressing yours; you let him, pleasantly dizzy, but a sudden noise coming from underdeck makes you jump. “Wait…”

“Shh…” he murmurs, as his mouth descends towards your neck; you feel him gently bite the soft skin. His right hand descends on your body to cup your bikini-covered breast, the pad of his thumb gently stimulating your already hard nipple through the fabric.

A moan erupts from your throat. Oh, God…! “Zoro, we can’t…”

“I say we can.”

“But the others… we’re on the deck, anyone could see…”

The island’s little port is empty, but Luffy and the others are nearby, busy working on the ship or going about their own business but free to step on deck any moment, through a door that is only a few steps to your right. You and Zoro have kept your relationship secret until now, mostly because you both feel the matter only concerns the two of you rather that the whole crew, and while you have nothing against telling your friends, you want to do it while you’re all gathered around the dinner table, not being surprised while you and Zoro make out. You should stop, and take this to one of the cabins like you’ve done so many times over the last two months…

“Zoro, please… we are completely in the open…” you murmur, sounding less urgent and resolved than you wish you did; Zoro knows neck kisses are your weak spot, and he’s mercilessly exploiting that knowledge against you… who, in turn, are starting to think that maybe it’s alright to take a few minutes for yourself, since the chance of being caught is after all negligible if you make it quick. You moan softly, the sweet torture of Zoro’s lips, teeth and tongue eliciting goosebumps on your skin as his hand caresses your chest; if he carries on like this he’ll suck a lovebite on your neck, which will be a pain to hide, but you can manage, and since the deck is silent you’ll allow yourself to enjoy this for a minute more… only a minute more…

… and then Zoro’s hand quickly pulls your bikini bra down, exposing your chest.

You jump - literally. “Zoro…!”

“God, you look so good…”

“Zoro, we can’t… what has gotten into you?” you hiss, bewildered; he grins in response, his gaze unashamedly revelling in the sight in front of him. “As I said, I’m going to show you the sweetest peach in the world.” he explains “And you did say I had to return the favour, right?”

“... what?”

“That day in my cabin. When you… took care of my fourth sword.”

Despite his position of power, Zoro can’t help blushing as he mentions the moment you shared a month ago; the memory elicits a smile on your lips, followed by a surge of panic once his intentions finally become clear.

“You… you want to do it now? Here?”

“Well, I am in your debt, aren’t I? You said it yourself.” Zoro points out, his eyes still trained on your chest; it’s a sight he already had the chance to admire several times, but the naked, unashamed desire in his gaze is no less intense, and you have to admit it, it doesn’t leave you indifferent. At all “And there’s no time like the present, like they say.”

“I know, but… we could go under deck, make sure no one sees us…”

“No one can see us now. Now let me take care of you…”

He’s not forcing you to do anything, you are well aware; you could easily fix your bra, stand and walk away, either holding Zoro’s hand to find a safer place somewhere on the ship or on your own, after telling him you don’t feel comfortable with what he’s proposing and you’d rather wait for a more appropriate occasion.

You could do it; despite his enormous strength and occasional lack of social graces, Zoro is not a brute and would never pressure you to anything you’re not comfortable with; you know, and you love him for it, and remembering that you don’t want to be caught by one or more of your friends while you and Zoro fool around, especially not if you really end up doing what he’s suggesting, is harder and harder with any passing second…

What he is suggesting. God, you can feel your heart pounding at the mere thought.

You don’t openly say go on, but Zoro must see he has overcome your objections, because he grins and licks his lips in anticipation, like a man who sees an excellent meal served at his table… with the sole difference that in this case the thing he’s going to eat -or to eat out, as it happens- is not the delicious food Sanji prepares for the crew every day, but you.

He kisses you again, deep and firm and passionate, intense like most of what he does is; you share a look, and suddenly you are completely unable to speak.

“Scream if you want; I like it.” Zoro invites you, and a moment later he has lowered his face to your chest and captured your nipple between his lips.

You don’t scream. You moan, and pant, and are forced to press a hand to your lips, but you don’t scream, your voice literally caught in your throat as Zoro plays with your chest, kissing, biting, sucking as if today were the last day of his life. “You have amazing tits, you know?” he murmurs into your skin “I’ve thought about this; I’ve dreamt of seeing them bounce as you move above me.”

The image his words are evoking is enough to make your head spin. You have thought about it as well, plenty of times in fact, the growing intimacy between you and Zoro naturally leading you to imagine and look forward to the day you’ll finally take your relationship to the next level. The fact that he envisions it with you on top is more than a little titillating, but right now… right now all you can think about is Zoro making good on his promise, and you feeling the kisses he’s placing on your chest on an even more delicate part of your body.

Moving cautiously, you slip a hand behind your back to unclasp your bra; Zoro allows you to take it off, and then smiles up at you, aware that he has completely silenced your protests. He moves to sit on the bottom edge of the beach chair in order to have both of his hands free, and unclasps his swords from his belt to delicately place them on the deck next to him. A moment later he’s bent over you once more, his hands squeezing your breasts as he rubs his face against them.

You lift your -slightly trembling- hand to caress Zoro’s hair, and this time he lets you, smiling into your skin. “Relax now.” he murmurs, and then his kisses start descending down your abdomen, soft, delicate pecks that leave a trail of fire behind them, the movement agonizingly slow. Torn between the impulse of telling him to hurry up because you can’t wait and the desire to savour any moment like a piece of delicious fruit, you are holding your breath by the time he reaches the hem of your bikini panties, and then… Zoro stops.

He stops, and you can feel him hold his breath for a moment, which immediately transforms the unhappy surge of frustration in your chest into worry.

“Are you alright?” you murmur, propping yourself up on your elbow to meet Zoro’s gaze “You don’t have to do it, you know.”

“I do want to do it.” he assures you, unsure like you’ve never seen him “It’s just… I want this to be good for you; I don’t even know what I have to do.”

“You really don’t?”

“I mean… I know the theory; putting it in practice is a different matter.”

You can’t help but smile. “Zoro… you need to stop considering this thing between us a test or something you need to prove yourself worthy of. Would you have gotten angry if I had seriously asked you to stop?”

“Of course not. It’s just…”

“Yes?”

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unsaid secrets and shames. You can feel heat pool in your belly, your body already screaming with anticipation for what Zoro has promised, but rather than hurrying him you sit up, so that you’re face to face.

“Just what?” you gently invite him “What is it that worries you so much?”

“I’m not worried! But I was thinking that…” Zoro rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as he confesses: “That you might decide to do it with someone else. With Sanji, or with some guy you meet on some island we stop at. You know, someone who knows more about this than I do.”

“Zoro…”

“It’s stupid, I know; let me try, I’m sure I can do it…”

“Of course you can; and I wouldn’t mind either way.” you assure him, taking his face in your hands “Zoro… I like you. Very, very much, and I’m not going to stop being with you simply because… because of this, first of all because you could never disappoint me, and second because sex is only one of the many things of you I’m attracted to.”

You sigh, well aware that lust is no longer the only reason why you are blushing; it’s way too early for you and Zoro to be talking about feelings, which is something you feel difficult and embarrassing in the best of cases, but the last thing you want is for him to think he owes you or that you might start looking at other men because he doesn’t immediately become the perfect lover. The poor man is still a virgin, for God’s sake!

“Now would be a good moment to tell me you also really like me, Zoro.”

“Of-of course I like you. For more than sex, that is.”

“And you wouldn’t do what you do with me with any other woman?”

“Of course not.”

“Thank you.” you say, and smile as you lie back down on the chair “Now go on; take your time and listen to your intuition. Your body knows what to do already, even if your mind doesn’t.”

Zoro nods, finally relieved, and gets to work. You can’t take your eyes off him as he bends to kiss your stomach once more, and then your thighs, and then finally the centre of your pleasure, his kiss slow, lingering and almost lazy, that opens in a new smile when Zoro feels you tremble, your body already reacting to his passion.

“Lift.” he orders, and you comply, allowing him to hook his thumbs around the side of your panties, and then slide them down your legs.

You are now completely bare, naked as the day you were born, visible to any of your friends who might decide to step on the deck for whatever reason. You don’t think you could survive the shame, but right now all you can think and care about is Zoro, once more looming over you, almost fascinated as he admires your nudity.

“You are beautiful.” he murmurs, almost reverent, and you smile as you spread your legs, just enough to let him catch a glimpse of your wet, warm folds.

“This is all for you.” you murmur “Please, Zoro, I need you; I need to feel you…”

He groans. “Fuck, (name)...”

You help him get comfortable with your heels resting on his thighs while Zoro leans forward and wraps his arms around your thighs; you share a last smile, and a moment later he’s kissing you for the first time, the warm touch of his mouth sending a shiver of pleasure through your body. You tremble, his name leaving your lips in a whimper as his kisses multiply, sweet and worshipful, and a moment later you can feel his tongue on you, the slow, intense drag over your pubic hair sending a new jolt of pleasure through you.

“You’re not… shaved.” Zoro murmurs, not breaking the contact so that you can feel his words reverberating against your skin.

“I’m not; is that… a problem?” you ask, a vein of uncertainty appearing in the sea of your pleasure; none of your previous partners complained, but you know Zoro shaves regularly, which might mean that he prefers his women equally hairless “I’m sorry, if you want I can…”

“It’s fine. No, I mean, it’s perfect.” he quickly reassures you; you can’t see his face from your position, but you can hear the smile in his voice “I like you the way you are.”

Those words, and the hidden meaning Zoro is perhaps slipping into them, touch you deeper than you expected them to. I like you as you are too, you’d like to say, and you’re about to, but then, as he keeps kissing your pubis to his heart’s content and his hands run up and down your thighs, Zoro’s tongue inadvertently brushes against your centre, the touch quick, almost absentminded, but enough to make you scream - a sudden, uncontrolled cry while Zoro is forced to quickly grab your legs once more to keep you still.

“Down, you…”

“Zoro, please…”

“Please what?” he asks, his handsome face suddenly peeking up between your legs; despite his lack of experience he knows you are at his mercy and is clearly proud of it “What do you want, (name)? Use your words.”

“You prat…” you mumble, but there’s no bite behind the insult, and you can’t help but smile “I know I told you to go slow, but…”

“... not too slow?”

“Exactly.”

“As you wish.” Zoro says, but nevertheless, when he dives back between your legs, it takes him a few more, agonizing minutes to actually reach the part of your body that desperately needs his attention. Completely naked under the sun, your muscles made tense by desire, you hold your breath, praying for a moment, just a moment of respite from the lust burning in your belly, but Zoro is determined to take his revenge for the sweet torture you inflicted on him four weeks ago, and by the time he finally takes pity on you you’re practically crying with desire, begging the swordsman to face-fuck you, now, otherwise you’ll lose your mind…

And Zoro finally does.

“Oh… you’re so wet…” he whispers, almost amazed; you can feel his voice vibrate against your clit, and your whole body has a new spasm.

“And whose fault is that?” you ask, or rather try to, because emotion has stuck your voice in your throat, and once again, you feel him grin. You whimper, because while you’ve always hated being manhandled as if you were an object, you can’t help feeling even more aroused now that Zoro is the one doing it; in a complete reversal of your positions a month ago, when you took care of his needs, he is now completely dominating you, your poor body completely at his mercy, surrendered and begging for a relief he could easily deny you.

Fortunately, he doesn’t.

“What a sweet little peach.” Zoro murmurs; he’s licking, almost lapping at your core with abandon, the completely lurid sound fueling your lust “You… taste so sweet… so juicy… hmm, (name), I want to lick you dry…”

The hand you have pressed to your mouth is not enough to stifle the symphony of moans, pants and cries Zoro’s tongue tears from your throat; he has taken your advice to let his instincts guide him to heart, and quickly learns how to give you pleasure without the need for further instruction. He is really treating your pussy as if it were a delicious fruit, savouring and tasting it, unashamedly pushing you to the brink as he holds your body close.

You can already feel pleasure mounting inside you, the lust only partially sated by his ministrations, and no matter how sweet it would be to just let go and find your relief, you want this to last, because, as you told Zoro that day in your cabin, the longer you’ll force yourself to resist, the more pleasant it will be once you finally come.

You sigh his name, and a moment later, behind you, a door slams; Zoro tenses, and “No!” you cry “Don’t stop…”

He laughs. “Not so worried about being caught now, are we?”

“Not anymore, no.” you admit, by now beyond blushing “Rather, I-I have to admit… I wouldn’t mind that.”

Zoro groans. “Shit, (name)…”

Being seen right now, in the state you are, Zoro eating you out as if his life depended on it, one of your friends - no, the whole crew witnessing such an intimate moment… the mere thought makes you tremble, and not in fear and shame. You arch your back, pressing yourself against Zoro, as your hands find purchase on his shoulders.

“More.” you urge him, your voice reduced to a growl. You have lost all control of yourself and you are proud, rather than embarrassed, of it; proud, and grateful, for the sweet, generous man who is giving everything he has to gift you a moment you will remember forever “Zoro, I want - I need more. Make me come. Darling, make me scream.”

Another groan - raw, deep, visceral, almost animalistic, as if the one taking care of your pleasure weren’t a clever, steadfast young man but an animal, a savage beast forced to an enormous strain in order to maintain at least a modicum of control as he ravishes you, just a step away from losing control, from giving in to his basest instincts to own you…

And then he stops again.

Light-headed as you are, it takes you a moment to realise it, to feel the absence of Zoro’s kisses on your core, and then you frown, disappointed but not worried, thinking that maybe he just needed a moment to catch his breath or clean his face.

But then the seconds pass, and nothing happens; Zoro is still holding you by the legs, unmoving, his face still inches away while the tide inside you stills, unable to mount to its release. You are painfully, desperately stretched, muscles tense towards a liberatory reward the man in front of you could easily give but that you can’t reach without him; still lying, you roll your hips, hoping to cover the brief distance between you, but you can’t, Zoro’s hands still keeping you in place.

You lift yourself on your elbow, finally meeting his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” you ask, hoping to sound less frustrated than you are. You are almost there, dammit!

“Yeah, I’m good. I was just thinking…”

Zoro bites his lip; he’d have any reason to feel smug, but suddenly uncertainty is colouring his face. You can see traces of your fluid on his lips, a sight that has your hips spasm.

His mouth is no longer enough, you decide on that moment, no matter how sweet and passionate his kisses. You need more, more of him, all of him, body and heart and soul, like you need to give him yours - and you will soon, you are pretty confident Zoro would be glad to agree, but now you just need a minute more… you need to come, you need it desperately, otherwise you don’t know what will become of you…

“... are we a thing now?”

“... what?!”

“You said you don’t want to do this with anyone but me, and I don’t want anyone but you either.” Zoro reminds you; he’s focused on your conversation but otherwise perfectly calm and in control, as if he couldn’t care less about the poor, needy woman lying in front of him, out of her mind with lust and desperately needing to be fucked “Does this mean we are a couple? You know, since we’re exclusive… and we’ve been seeing each other for a while…”

“...”

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want… or if you need to think about it…”

“It’s not that.” you reassure him, amused despite your exasperation “You could have found a better moment to discuss it, that’s all; one doesn’t normally stop to talk while they’re in the middle of this. Zoro, I feel like I’m going to burst.”

“Oh! Uhm…” Zoro blinks, sincerely taken aback “Sorry, I didn’t think… I’ll finish now…”

“That would be nice, thank you. And Zoro?”

“Yes?”

You smile; you can’t help it. “And I’d love for us to be a couple.”

“... really?”

“Of course. The exclusive sort, of course.”

Zoro bites his lip, as if suddenly aware of his lack of timing and of the absurdity of the situation, but then he smiles, his eyes expressing all the joy he’s unable to voice. “That’s… good.”

“Very good, yes. Now would you mind making me come?”

Zoro hurries to nod, and then his face disappears between your legs once more; his new attack is immediately fiery, relentless even, as he quickly picks up the pace he had built until a moment ago, as if determined to make up for lost time. Relief fills you as your body finally finds the escape it was craving for; it feels like holding your breath for hours and then filling your lungs with clean, fresh air.

“I-I’m close.” you stammer, once more close to your breaking point; it’s never been like this for you, so intense, sweet and devoted despite its ardor, as if Zoro were channelling all his strength and his indomitable will, not against a foe or to fight for his life, but to give you pleasure, and to be a good partner for you “I’m almost… Zoro…”

He doesn’t answer, but he moans, and then does something so indescribably lurid with his tongue, that it pushes you over the brink; the tether inside you snaps, and then you’re coming, Zoro’s hands keeping you still as he eats you out, ravenous, passionate, hungry for you, for your sweet peach, angry and jealous enough he wants it, and you, all to himself.

You’ve got nothing against that, and you vow to make sure he knows it soon; your scream of pure pleasure fills the air as your body trembles, your nails digging into the flesh of Zoro’s shoulders keeping you from being swept away.

Your orgasm is long, intense and absolutely sublime; he guides you through it, prolonging your pleasure as much as he can and then gently lowering your legs to the chair as you try to catch your breath. He places a last, sweet kiss on your belly and then stands -carefully; his legs look a bit wobbly- to come kneel again by your side.

“Are you alright?”

For a full minute all you can do is nod, and smile broadly. “I’m fine. And it was amazing, Zoro; thank you.”

“A-are you sure? I wasn’t sure… and then I stopped, like an idiot…”

You silence him with a finger to his lips; then you change your mind, and do it with your mouth, feeling pleasantly numb and yet wanting more. More of this; more of him. “It was perfect; you clearly are naturally talented in more than just swordsmanship.” you reassure him “Was it nice for you?”

“Very. I… I can't wait to do it again.”

“And we will. And tonight we can look at the stars in the crow’s nest.”

“Sounds nice. We can drink the sakè we bought on the last island.”

It's nothing you haven’t done a thousand times already, but a large smile blossoms on your lips. “Yeah, fine.”

Zoro grins. He's been doing it more and more often recently, at least while the two of you are together; you had never noticed how lovely his smiles can be. “As I thought, you taste better than any peach in the world.”

“Well, thank you…”

You should probably cover yourself, since you're still naked and in plain sight, but you don't, and you don't care. Zoro rests his forehead against yours, and for a minute you remain still, enjoying the intimacy of a shared breath.

“So… it's official.” you comment after a while, feeling… not exactly shy, but a little trepidant “You're still in time to change your mind.”

“Why should I? I asked you, after all.”

“I know, but…”

“But nothing; I, err, don't really know what it means to be a b-boyfriend, but I promise I'll do my best.”

“Your best is enough.” you reassure him, and smile “And if not, once again, I can teach you.”

Zoro frowns. “Can you? How many other boyfriends have you had?”

“That's not what I meant, you dummy…”

You share a smile, laughing softly as your lips meet in the middle.

#One Piece #Roronoa Zoro #Roronoa Zoro x reader #Bellona's stuff

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sudokuplayer · 7 months ago

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i'm so angry and heartbroken and i think this is all i will ever be

#no it's not pms :( Jeremy is still missing and i haven't slept well waiting for him #it's getting so cold too #all my ''''progress'''' this year means nothing to me #also my sister is here because she didn't have to work yesterday and today and my brother video called her not knowing she was here #and when she picked up he was all cheerful and happy and it sounded like they video call often #(he texted me only a few times when he moved to the north and not a single time since he moved to Argentina)#and when he realized she was here he sort of got quiet and asked if i was around and she pointed the camera at me which always makes me sic #so i didn't look or wave and i didn't say anything and he said “she's got he headphones on” and my sister said no lol and it was awkward #then she told him we are all sad about Jeremy and said me in particular #i've been so sad and moody and angry #i can't do anything because of this anguish i feel #can't read or watch movies because i can't concentrate #i watched the emperor's new groove the other day to cheer up a little but it made sad #nostalgia doesn't work for me when i'm down like this because i see through it lol and i remember i spent my whole childhood scared #i remember i was certain something bad would happen to me (and it did but not as tragic as what i was scared of)#i'm rambling. i should be journaling instead #...#Keanu is with me now and i can't even look at him without tearing up because i start thinking about Jeremy #it's so cold and he's probably hungry. if he's even alive #the cats are all i have. i spend more time with them than with the only 2 humans i can interact with without throwing up (mom and sister)#you know how they say cats mirror twhe personality of their humans :( Jeremy is exactly like me. my mom and siblings used to joke about it #he hides when people come over to the house:( he pees himself when strangers touch him :(#we have the vet come over so we don't have to take him out of the house #and the vet is the only person he's forced to see. he pees himself when she touches him too #i can't stop thinking about how he's doing if he's still alive because he gets scared so easily and he's so anxious #i'm so angry because i should go outside and look for him but i can't even picture myself out of this house #i feel so betrayed too. because one thing is my stupid sick head thinking there's no amount of therapy or meds that could work for me #but why is my family listening to me when i say these things. why don't they get me lobotomized or something #maybe it is a bit of pms #📓

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screampied · 6 months ago

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RIDIN' DIRTY ?!

⋆˚. sum. you never realized how hot your local mechanic was until he had you arched and bent over your hood. spoiler fucking alert, you end up getting a different kind of pipe that’s of course free of charge just for you.

warnings. fem! reader, mechanic toji, unprotected, degradation, oral (f! receiving), spıt, breēding, shotgunning, fuckıng you on the hood, praise, manhandling, pússywhipped toji, size kink, biting, brief fıngering, petnames.

wc. 5.3k

an. ty kali for beta'ing some x

“she’s all done, ma’am,” your mechanic toji murmurs in a gruff voice, yanking back your stick shift before putting it in park. he drove it near the garage of his auto shop, a rounded plump cigarette sticking from the corner of his mouth. with a yawn departing from his lips, he eyes you up and down for a bit before removing his seatbelt. stepping out, he then towers over you by many, many staggering inches. his silhouette alone was intimidating, and you shift your dilated irises away once he cocks his head to your level. “still in pretty good shape. y’er model ain’t that old ‘n i think you should visit every few weeks.”

compressing your thighs together, you bury your purse underneath the pit of your arm. “oh, okay thank you sir,” and as he’s standing—you then take a good glimpse at the man in front of you. he’s handsome, sweaty, and covered in nothing but a slick sheet of grease. the more you gawk, the more you could see a bit of curly chest hair poke out against his skin. his broad chest, his perky pink nipples that poked-

“heh, darlin’ ya don’t gotta be so formal, y’know,” and your eyes darted toward his work cap that was slightly twisted. god, he was so attractive. he inches toward you closer, watching you struggle to keep composure before you think he’s gonna kiss you. so what do you do, you close your eyes. you close your fucking eyes, thinking he was gonna kiss you but instead, he places a hand on the hood of your car. “oh? silly girl, were you expectin’ something?”

“n- no.”

yeah, you were.

it was late at night, midnight, and everyone had clocked out for the day.

everyone except toji. he was a workaholic. you needed a last minute oil change and he was the only available one near by. he was about to close but made an exception. the auto shop has a cooling air surrounding the inside of the garage before you swallow. you can hear your saliva trail its way down your throat as you finally meet direct eye contact with the older man. “cute,” toji murmurs, and he’s not even touching you. he’s not even touching you but it felt like it. despite his teasing, you get hit face first with a strong waft of his scent. his cologne, you knew the exact type he was wearing. cheap, but long lasting against anyone’s nostrils who takes a first whiff. “it’s been a while since y’er last oil change though, i’d be lyin’ if i said i didn’t miss ya.”

with a quirk of a brow, you murmur up at him, deciding why not to play along. you knew he was most likely teasing but still. “you missed … me?”

“sure,” toji removes his baseball cap, fanning it against the sweat glistening off his bulging muscles that poke through his perfectly sculpted body. he was so fit, you couldn’t help but openly leer at his broad, intense figure. with a sly smile, he leans against your car before humming, taking another hit of his cigar. “not too many pretty faces show up ‘round here. besides, i didn’t forget about our little moment last time.”

your breath gets caught in the back of your throat.

he remembered,

he remembered the little incident the two of you shared. when you came for your last oil change and a battery repair, you also ended up sharing a kiss with toji. it was nothing more, nothing less.

but it was hot, having his tongue shoved down your throat with his big rough hands roaming along the sides of your body. being so pressed up against him, you felt yourself longing for more. in your city, toji was the best mechanic for miles. he we well known, quick, precise, and quite flirty.

you brought out the worst in him that day, and it annoyed you how the steamy, sultry kiss got interrupted by his boss. shiu … something, rich raven hair mirroring the same color as his worker.

“oh y- yeah.” you sheepishly mumble, feeling the tension through the air run thick. you loathed desperately how whenever you were around toji, your stammer would make an appearance. you hated it, it was so embarrassing and he ate it up everytime. toji’s sly gaze lowers and he titters at the cute pullover and skirt you wore before your own eyes trail toward his lips.

his lips,

they were naturally crooked — pink, and that damn slanted scar that remained to slash against the right side of his mouth. you peeped a bit of a growing stubble, but nevertheless he was always well trimmed. toji flashed a grin before he got way close to you. kneeling his head down, he whispers toward you. “oh y- yeah,” he mocks your trembling tone, and he was so close that his musk, his body heat radiates off you completely. “somethin’ tellin’ me you came here for more than just an oil change, that right, baby?”

your heart’s pulsing intensifies at his cunning words. always cutting straight to the chase. he’s so up close, his cologne’s just clogging up your nose by now before your thighs squeeze themselves shut. “yes.”

“yes what, darlin’?” and there’s a hint of jibe in his voice. the moment he grabs your chin gently, you’re ready to lose it right there. toji’s wearing mechanic gloves, the soft padded leather pulling down on your bottom lip playfully. with a coy head tilt, he purses your lips a bit more open. “ah, c’mon. use those pretty words, tell me what ya want.”

your legs, the crevices between them were already starting to slick with moisture.

oh, this couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing. as you meet his jade green eyes, you reply with a tone that comes out far more needy than you originally intended. “i want .. i want you, toji.”

there’s a frisky, playful glint in his eye—as well as the tiny crinkle forming at each twist of his facial expressions. “yeah you do,” and his words were pitched deep, so deep that the timbre lingering underneath his tone sends your spine shivers. “more than a kiss? i’ll hafta charge ya extra, heh.”

still . . it was humor in his voice, you knew he was joking but the heat purring between your thighs only grew. your body was screaming at you, it’s been a while since your last time anyway, the last time you’ve been touched.

with a nod, murmuring out a faint little, “more than a kiss, ‘toj,” he snickers, closing the awkward distance between you two finally.

the moment his lips crash against yours, everything feels hot. scorching hot — similar to the sahara, his tongue being the water you needed to cool down. the leftover smoke and booze that lingered on his tongue was strong, the second it glided against your buds it tasted stronger. you could feel his smirk creeping against his lips before with two hands, he lifts you up, propping you to sit on the hood of your car.

it was madly aggressive - teeth clashing, tongues twisting, one taste again and he was addicted.

he made sure to take out his cigarette before hand, squeezing it against his fingers as he’s gradually grinding his hips by you. it’s slow, you could feel his raging boner prod right through his work pants.

it was hard to miss, you couldn’t help but give him a few nosy peeks which he was working on your car to see if he was a packer and he definitely was.

sticky strands of his hair tickle against your forehead as he’s rutting right in you. a free hand makes its way onto your left thigh, slowly dancing his fingers amongst your skin. the moment your legs entrap his slim waist, locking around his torso, he grunts. both lashes were close to touching, breaths were becoming heavy, and you felt his tongue curl around yours. toji was a sloppy yet passionate kisser, and yet— he wanted his tongue to work in other ways.

and it did,

your jaw drops open as you’re laid flat on your back, staring at the man with his face shoved deep between your thighs. toji sprawls open your legs, delving his long tongue inside of your slick entrance to get a sweet taste.

gradually, his tongue dips all around your cunt, creating a little swirl before he feels your body twitch in rapture.

“t- tojiiii,” you whine, feeling a bit paranoid at how anyone could just see the two of you.

sure, you were both in a securely locked garage ( at least you hoped ) —but, anyone could just walk in. walk in and see you having your pussy being devoured by one of the most top known mechanics in the city. if you’d have given a rating on his pussy eating skills, it’d be five stars without question.

he was always so nasty with it— occasionally, with his now bare fingers from removing his gloves, he slides a thumb down your slick.

“look at her, she’s fuckin’ sloppy,” he whispers against your cunt — his warm breath brushes near your folds and you whimper. your voice echoes raw out your throat, ringing through the spacey walls of his garage. this was far better than just an oil change, you were thinking. so so better,

as toji’s still swiping a tongue against your entrance in a circular rotation—nose deep, speaking of nose, it starts to rummage its way against your nub. you gag out a gasp, nearly choking from how out of breath you were with your legs shaking tremendously. with your teeth shattering, he nibbles against your clit, staring you dead in the eyes. “mmf, ‘s fuckin’ good. how generous of you though,” he coos in a gruff tone, easing a single digit inside of your slippery core. “haven’t ate all day ‘n this meal ‘s just what i needed darlin, heh.”

toji’s charisma was simply unmatched.

it was something about him being face first between your legs that made him ten times more attractive.

his hair, it was a bit lengthy but not too much. he grew it out the last time you saw him. a bit of a wolf cut but was neatly trimmed toward his shoulders. it’s rough and unkempt, dark black bangs still running down his eyes. every few seconds, he’s got to whip his head back in vex so his vision isn’t occluded.

“hnnggh, right there toji. pleaseplease.” you babble out in desperate cries, swallowing your own pathetic pity before savoring the honeyed taste.

a whimper rips out of your throat to where it sounds similar to a gargle. his tongue knows just the right spots to reach. your clitoral hood, he loved to suck on it until that cute scream snatches from your esophagus.

“never tasted a girl so sweet ‘n all my years,” he groans, a single finger still shoved inside. it’s stretching you out more and your back arches against the warm hood of your vehicle.

from side to side,

his head moves and shifts and shakes and you’re about to lose it. in fact, you were already losing it, feeling your legs turn into complete mush. jello even, they felt nonexistent thanks to his sloppy tongue.

whilst he’s buried right between your thighs, the mechanic’s got the smuggest grin that you just wanted to wipe right off his face.

toji’s so pent up and aroused—he works a regular six to twelve hour shift, it was almost the same situation for you. he can’t remember the last time he’s been … active, albeit he was exhausted. and yet it seemed as if your precious, slick cunt gave him all the needed battery to fuel his energy right back up.

a husky growl vibrates against your pussy and you whine as a hand combs its way into his hair. in the process, your fingers tangle against his strands. your digits - all five of them stroke through his scalp before giving it a brief tug.

“kinky ‘lil slut, huh,” he grunts, head yanking forward towards your thighs. toji hated the fact that it turned him on. a lot, so much so that his dick twitches in his wrangler rigg jeans. as he’s got you still laid against your parked car, he slurps against your cunt - feeling you pulse right into his mouth. “there’s that cute heartbeat, she wants so much fuckin’ attention today.”

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum,” you moan, his low words only pushing you further to the edge. barred big hands cling against both sides of your thighs. no longer having a finger inside, he firmly grabs your leg.

you’re quavering,

seeing nothing but splotches of snowy white as he’s slurping up your cunt like a hot dish of pasta. “c- cum, fuck ‘m gonna cum, y- your tongue ‘s goodddd.”

with a low hoarsely chortle, he hums. “careful, doll. cum ‘n i’ll have to add a bit of tax to your bill. plus an extra fee for heh, grease.”

you stare at him with a cute confused expression and he snickers. “aw, ‘m joking, don’t gimme that look,” and with warm lips pressing against your cunt, you mewl out a desperate, shrilling whine.

as the seconds go on, you’re steadily being brung to the teetering orgasmic edge. with your hips bucking against his face, he’s grabbing ahold of waist with his tongue exploring the inner caves of your delicious cunt.

your nub, he continues to flick against it, making your body jerk back against the unmoving vehicle. you whimper and whimper before he shoots you a teasing smile, whistling against your folds. “use those words, darlin’. use ‘em ‘n tell me what you want, yeah.”

“wanna cum- wanna c-cum,” you breathe, feeling the shiver in your jaw. even still, you’re wisping fingers into his strands, gripping it tightly before you’re grinding your cunt against his face.

a snail-like trail of your own clear slick runs down his chin. oh, with the way he slowly pulls his head up to smirk at you, you just wanted to kiss him again. your body’s hanging onto its last and final hinges before you’re spasming, feeling him swat a palm against your pussy thrice. “ngh, toji. wanna cum. please, need it. n- need to cum.”

“i’d beg to differ,” he groans, reaching for the hem of his pants - pulling the heavy piece of clothing down. his dick alone had a bit of weight to it and with murky-like irises, you gawk openly.

with a hand going inside of his pants, he lets off a guttural groan, starting to stroke himself off. a few solid pumps and he’s already sucking his teeth at the almost unbearable friction.

“fuck, y- you don’t ‘need’ shit, little girl,” and he’s multitasking. one hand focusing on your thigh and another on his cock. he’s so hard, he’s so fucking hard and the moving you’re doing against his body - the grinding, it doesn’t make it any better. with a mean slap, he spanks your cunt again before spitting near your folds. “you need it, you need ‘ta cum. right darlin’?”

“y- yes,” you hiccup, white noise deafening your ears continuously. the loooooong, sleazy slurps of his tongue makes you rock more into his mouth, nearly pulling out his strands with your rough, hard grip.

the more you tug and pull against his hair, the more it turns him on. his cock throbs whilst a long vein runs through the very side of his shaft. the center of toji’s thumb brushes against his peeling brief foreskin. “need, i need to cum. please.” you correct yourself, in hopes that he’d let you succumb to your nirvana-filled release.

as your fingers continue to fish through his hair, gathering a nice hold, he starts to make out with your folds. the squelches, they were singing out a cacophony of sloppy sounds. you’re sopping wet so good for him to where your cunt’s just voluntarily cascading on his mouth—cascading down his chin.

with ease, you even drench his stubble with your slick - happily. “go ‘head girl,” he grunts, gazing hungrily at the concoction of strings departing. cobwebs of his saliva mixing along with strings of your slick makes him groan. what a mess. a mess and you were the biggest one possible.

once you come undone, everything’s so hazy. your legs jitter in exhilaration, moaning loudly from the intense palpitation. he licks you clean, lapping up your flavorful juices with his tongue before feeling a few spurts of his own cum paint against his palm. “f- fuck, pretty,” he grunts, each stroke against his hard cock making him grind his teeth together. his jaw tightens, realizing he’d just came with you - all from eating you out. you were shaking still, your climax making your vision turn into a rainbow of color. your eyelids, all you saw was a plethora of colorful tints, slowly jerking your hips forward until you couldn’t anymore. as you move, he guides you to ride out your orgasm, ride it out all on his face. “thaaaat’s it, gimme all of y’er taste, mhm.”

it lasts for seconds, seconds that felt like long, never ending hours. with a sweet elongated battle cry of your own that’s in reality replaced with an ear shattering orgasm, you slump back against your vehicle.

“such a good girl,” he murmurs, getting up and it’s a concise soreness in his thighs from bending down for that duration of a time. inhaling a breath of fresh air, he inches toward your face. “heh, you look so dumb,” he teases at your state. indeed you were, his tongue had you feral and craving for more. you were still throbbing, his body heat closing the remaining spacey inches between you both before he grabs your chin. “want a taste, do ya?”

“y- yes,” you nod, your own breathing betraying you with how you struggle to maintain easy, singlular breaths.

toji pops his cigarette back into his mouth before taking a long, deep inhale. the smoke burns, and he aligns his dick up against your drooling slit. he didn’t have to do much moving, the skirt you wore made it easy for him to lift the thin piece of fabric up for access. you glance down, and he was so big.

veiny, a heavy fat cock with an even heavier fat base. as the end of the lit cigarette sticks between his teeth, his brows contorts into a furrow.

toji coos quietly, the mushroom-tip of his dick sweltering inside against your warm heated core. “open wide, babygirl,” he huffs, a thumb peeling down your lip once more. his eye contact had your pussy twitching profusely. it was so intimate, you felt the arising tension reach its peak. not even hesitating, you part your lips open, leaving your mouth open ajar for him. “good. nice ‘n wide for toji,” he refers to himself and you watch with doe eyes as he blows an airy puff of smoke right into your mouth. tepid lips hover against your own, and he’s so close that he can almost smell your longing arousal. you moan at the feeling of his tip easing its way into your cunt, creating squelchy sloshing sounds of acceptance. “there we go baby, nice ‘n easy.” he whispers, and toji finally kisses you.

you moan, feeling his dick breeze its way into your sopping cunt, the stretch already presenting itself toward your walls. it’s a tight stretch and you moan, throbbing from the way you’re opening up for him. as the friction sets against your twitching muscle, you whine, running your tongue down his to taste the brewing variations of saliva and smoke into your mouth. it’s so sloppy, his tongue game was just improperly risqué.

fithly, coarse..

with your ass sitting directly on the cool running hood of your vehicle, he’s continuing to drive his dick straight into you.

you moan as his lips attack against yours, savoring your candied flavor. it was something about you that he couldn’t get enough of. toji’s body - it was broad and big. as he towers over your frame, he starts to thrust a bit forward.

“ughh,” he bites down on your lip, dark mean eyes meeting yours as he then opens them.

the stretch had you gasping for air once his lips shortly break away. already, you missed them. he sees the pout and he chuckles before his head tosses itself back. as his lips pull away, strands of spit abruptly leave, saying its goodbyes to each mouth. “so fuckin’ — shit.” he swears, so lost in your swallowing walls that he forgets his initial sentence.

already, his eyes were starting to flicker back.

rolling back,

it was sexy to witness, especially up close. toji’s cock dives into your cunt further and further before finally, he bottoms out. once he’s reached the hilt - the very hilt, you whine, throwing your arms over his tense shoulders carelessly.

“fuck me, f- fuck me, toji. please.” you stammer out in pathetic babbles, the repetitive twitch in your pussy making him all the more harder. your pleas almost fall on deaf ears before you feel the veins pulse down his cock. it spasms inside you and if you weren’t as wet before, you were certainly wet now.

he’s just so hard, your walls grip and envelope around his length as you bite on his shoulder.

“didn’t know we’re on bitin’ terms now, heh,” he attempts to joke, one hand gently squeezing onto your waist. his touch, you never failed to lean into his touch. with a needy gasp, his hefty dick tucks its way into the insides of your cunt. your goopy walls squelch and squelch, shrieking out a lewd harmony of wails. you’re so wet - already, his base starts to get painted from your slick. you moan, licking a stripe near the crook up neck. he snickers, feeling the moisture of your tongue collide against his skin. “jus’ so fuckin’ hot,” he gruffs, staring at your already fucked dumb expression. “mhm, such a nasty girl. havin’ me fuck ya on y’er car.”

he’s stretching you out so good, its as if your cunt was a gymnast — easily bending and breaking, stretching in and out. toji’s dick was fat - the foreskin that’s glued against his tip stimulates the insides of your wet core. you whine once more, clinging onto his beefy body as he’s fucking you on the hood.

pitiful babbles of mercy whisper in his ears, your ankles and heels brushing alongside the red lines of his back. toji was sweating a lot more from the constant moving — you, your body jolting up against your car and his sharp, deadly hits going in and out of you. each piston has you weak, stupid even.

despite his mechanic scented musk with a sprinkle of inexpensive cologne, it was still alluring to you. you throbbed as he continued to jerk his hips against the same spot. your toes, all five of them on both feet curl in awe before you start to spasm.

“y- yes, please. right there, right there tojiiii.” and you probably sounded so pathetic but you could care less. your face was all scrunched up and twisting in blissful pleasure as he’s plunging into you at full force. his rhythm, his pace . . it was ruthless.

safe to say, you were addicted.

cock drunk, easy - just like that. with a secure grip still on your hip, he’s reeling you back with such ease. strands of saliva starts to pour out from the side corners of your mouth and he slyly smiles. “oh, you just wanna be a messy customer today, huh. such a mess,” and with a flick of his thumb, he swipes your spit clean. he does this only to pop the same finger into his mouth, relishing in your glacé, syrupy taste. “so sweet, ‘m gonna need more though.”

your knees embarrassingly buckle. your weeping cunt sobs for more and more as his mean, degrading thrusts is just leaving you utterly dumbfounded. your mouth was open, tiny little pants of air escaping out into the form of a mere croak. toji’s weighty dick thoroughly plummets into your insides with all of his might to where you’re already visibly stupid.

each mocking thrust makes your stomach churn. he’s so deep, his tip located in every area. you’re stretched, worn thin, and the minute his cockhead greets your cervix with a french kiss, you shriek sweetly.

“oh my g- goddd, there please, toji, tojiiii,” and you were just babbling out anything at this point.

it was adorable, every few seconds, the mechanic had to swipe the back of his hand against his forehead. the remaining few droplets of perspiration that resided underneath his bangs was a lot. as beads of sweat race down his face, sable irises meeting your dumbed down state and you moan, nails now clawing into his shoulders. “f- fuck, ‘s good. ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“big just for you, baby,” he groans against your ear - the fat of his balls mashing against your entrance making you dizzy. you’re about to break again, the smell in the air was almost potent.

with his cologne, the mixture of his sweat, and the burning hot gas fumes of your car, you felt like you were floating. your cunt was being stuffed with delirious inches of cock and you wouldn’t have it any other way. toji grabs your chin, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth before his tempo accelerates. “shittt, grippin’ on me so good, ‘m gonna cum, darlin’.”

at his throaty words, you meet his eyes before burying your face into his neck for about the nth time again. the only words he could hear you whine into his neck was, “inside, inside me, ‘toj.”

“so y’er a creampieee kinda girl,” he sneers in amusement - watching as you’re slowly being taken to your inevitable rapturous rapture.

you’re whimpering, taking in each of his deep, pivotal strokes. toji brings his hands toward your waistline, skimming his fingertips against the curvature before nibbling on your earlobe. “careful, sweets... ‘s gonna be a nice big load. can ya be a good girl ‘n take that much? don’t wanna give ya too much of a full, heh.”

if it wasn’t for his puns — you’d smack him, but you were too cock drunk to think, let alone comprehend.

“i can take it,” you nod desperately, a cute tremor in your voice as you’re making haste with your own hips against his. everything’s so sharp. “fuck, f- fuck me, right there.”

toji found it cute how repetitive your sweet nothings were - the same endless chatter flowing past your lips. “yeahhh.” he jibes, although his words were in the form of a question. you grab against his wrist while your slippery soaked cunt braces for the parching, hot fill.

three thrusts,

three slow deep thrusts and he was at his peak. leisurely, as toji’s cock deeply into the pits of you, almost reaching your tummy - you feel a few hot spurts shoot into you raw. toji groans, his voice echoing through the garage. he was whipped. your expression was so cute, hooded droopy eyes and an abashed little grin.

his swollen fat tip was downright rude with the way it scrapes against your pussy, thrashing all inside as if it knows the place.

it’s so much, colossal big hands of his grab onto your thigh, and he leans in to gently pierce his teeth into your skin. sucking against your tender flesh, like honey—like nectar, he grunts his own gruff climax into your shoulder.

his voice was low - his adam’s apple bobs at his actions, feeling an unforeseeable wave crash over him at once. it’s intense and he’s just eating up your delicious fervor that was right in front of him.

“t- toji,” you breathe, your arms still slung over his shoulders. easily, he’s jerking away from attentions.

toji wasn’t fully thrusting anymore, but he still had a decent pace of pumps. his fresh, warm cum emits into your cunt like how a volcano erupts. gushing into you, it’s hot and thick like lava, warm and sticky like magma.

you were chasing your breaths but failed to surpass them in the fictitious lewd race. it’s so hot inside, you were almost positive a few slimy spurts of toji’s cum exudes up on the hood of your car. you’ve never felt so full, his chest heaves and yours deflates in harmony.

with both bodies were in sync and casual harmony, he grunts before leaning in to kiss you. his now flaccid dick was just idly inside of your swollen, greedy cunt. throbbing even still, you rub the backs of your ankles behind his slim waist before tilting your head back. the kiss was far more passionate this time.

if you knew mechanics fucked this good, maybe, just maybe you’d come for an oil change more often.

except, toji didn’t just add the new oil into the engine of your car, he added his own new oil into your sopping, drenched cunt.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, feverish breaths titillating against the inner areas of your neck.

you pulse from any movement he makes, clinging onto him tightly like a koala. he has a flashy half girn, slowly pulling out his dick to see the mess. your cunt was overflowed to the max - so much cum, so so much.

toji licks his lips, the tip of it grazing against his fleshed scar as he peers at your pussy’s opening. the way your entrance slowly spitting out his thick, velvety ropes of cum due to its fullness makes him grunt.

inside, it was lukewarm—oozing out of your entrance before you lean back against your hood. “mhm, ‘s still pourin’ out. guess i was so pent up from today, barely had any time to jerk off.”

“i didn’t have to know that.” you huff at his teasing, trying to catch your breaths. your full lungs felt like they were about to collapse.

toji helps you off your car - although, he wanted more and so did you. surprisingly, he even cleans the hood off for you. as you’re back on your feet, sore and all, he asks for your number. “you’re gonna ask me out or something?”

“maybe, hold still darlin,” and your interest peaked, wondering why he wanted you to be still.

you turn, heaving a bit of shifting before toji bends down. you shudder a bit, feeling what feels like a cold marker starting to drag and scrape down against the right cheek of your ass. you could hear low, raspy laughter as he’s writing on your rear. with a pout, you wait as he’s continuing to write what you assume to be his number onto your skin with a sharpie.

the smell smolders against your nose quickly before he finishes, popping the black cap into his mouth. “there, call me after the hours of,” and he pauses, glancing at his watch. “hm, eleven pm.”

“thank you….” you murmur, that simple action making you throb again before your eye twitches. you make your way towards your car and then you feel a breeze through your legs. eyes widening, you turn towards the mechanic. “um- my panties? i kind of need them.”

with a sly grin, he pulls his work jeans back up before humming. “um, you kind of don’t,” he mocks your sentence, and you almost moan at the feeling of his hand squeezing your ass. toji then spanks it, the sharpie marker of his number imprinted on your skin slightly smearing against his palm.

“darlin, consider y’er panties as payment. ‘s on the house,” and you gulp, meeting his viridescent, green eyes. he looked hungry for more - that natural smirk compressing against his lips never once fading. toji brushes a thumb against your cheek before leaning against your car. “come back anytime for a fill.”

he hums cheekily at you through the mirror, closing your car door once you get in, starting the ignition. with your panties in hand, he shoots you a nod. “i’ll make it extra creamy next time. no charge, baby.”

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nataliesnews · 1 year ago

Text

It is a very sad day. Veronica phoned me this morning to tell me that Uta's mother had died after a long illness. I spoke to her just a few days ago and she knew she was dying and was so brave. I am glad that I had the opportunity of meeting her, even if only for a few days and since then we have been in touch all the time. I often thought of her when I was writing my letters and wondering what she thought.

Then yesterday too my friend's grandson was mortally wounded. He has particles in his brain and there does not seem to be much hope. It was only the other day that I had supper with her and Robbie and she said that she does not sleep at night. That it would break them if something happened to him .

I can think of nothing positive happening in my life. Then I read of our president whom I realise does not have a brain in his head. He signs a rocket which is going to kill people as if he were writing on someone's bandages leg or knee? And then there are people who laugh at their sufferings.

It is getting harder and harder to write. woman Orit Stroch. a settler, who wrote demanding to know whether the pilots who said they would not report for future reserve duty had refused to take part in the war? By the way she is also the one who said that no doctor should have to treat anyone from the gay community if it conflicted with their religious beliefs. And for support which Netanyahu gave the general who replied to her read the attached

Outrage as far-right minister suggests some pilots refusing air support for Gaza troops

Settlements Minister Orit Strock widely reported to ask at cabinet if some in Air Force are failing to carry out their duties for ideological reasons

Today the Jerusalem municipality came to the tent of the families and took down and tore all their signs and a bunch of hooligans came past screaming that all the families are traitors and caused the death of their children and the war and that piece of shit whose two sons cower behind them is quiet. That is Israel today of Netanyahu.

After a long interval because of the war, we had not been to the DCO and decided to go. We were surprised to find about 15 men there. They had all been summoned by the ISA, the secret service. One indignantly told us that he had to pull his trousers down to his ankles and did not know why. They also told us that the Satmar cult comes into their neighborhoods with the Palestinian flag with no problem. They were all very pleasant.

We then decided to see what is happening at the entrance to Beit Lechem from road 60. Until the war the road was completely open but this is the way it looks now. We stopped a short distance before the checkpoint.

Shlomit got out to photograph and immediately a soldier came running up demanding our IDs. We told him we only have to show IDs to a policeman and when he said he was also a policeman asked to be shown identification. Also , as we were on the main road of the town and not in the area of the checkpoint, to be shown proof that where we were standing was a closed army area. He claimed that we had photographed him and said that it was easy to identify him....I leave that to your judgement,He said he would phone the police and we said to be our guest. I said to Shlomit that it was just as well we had not driven off before we saw him approaching us as in this day and age he would probably have taken a shot at us. But all's well that ends well....He had evidently phoned the representative of the DCO. He knew us from former days at Etzion and we showed him the photo which he did not ask to have deleted and after a short and pleasant conversation continued on our way home.

Today we went to plant trees with one of the farmers from Burin. Not that I could help but I go to identify. This is how the others went up. Her ladyship went up by taxi. i don't think it is the help which is important but that we come. We left early though as the Palestinian authority phoned and said that the area was getting restless and we should go and then too soldiers and settlers started coming down the mountain. But people bought a lot of his olives and olive oil. I asked where his family was ...usually it is very joyous there and the house was so empty but he said it was too dangerous from them to be there so they had gone to live in the village.

But then we also have this......I remember how Israelis said what animals the Palestinians are that whenever there was an attack on Israelis they would go out to celebrate and give out sweets. Evidently Israelis are also keen to learn from Palestinians as this is what some soldiers did.... singing and dancing in the street and giving out sweets at the death of one of the Hamas. Not that I feel any grief for him but this is not the Jewish way. But today I no longer think that there is a Jewish way. I think we have learned only too well of how to hate and how to conduct pogroms. They should remember the Peisach seder where God rebukes his angels for singing when the Egyptians drowned.

and this caricature appeared in one of the far right newspapers. If it had been from a newspaper on the left or a journalist/ whoever published it would already be sitting in jail/ If you want to know what this is about look at the pdf below. It is too complicated for me to go into it.

Sorry I wish I could write something positive

Henrietta Szold 2

Migdal Nofim Room 708

Kiryat Hayovel

Jerusalem 9650230

Israel

Tel 0528-375593

Nofim Tel 972-(0)2-6580222

Home 972 (2)6418387 no messages

Outrage as far-right minister suggests some pilots refusing air support for Gaza troops

Settlements Minister Orit Strock widely reported to ask at cabinet if some in Air Force are failing to carry out their duties for ideological reasons

Sorry I wish I could write something positive

Henrietta Szold 2

Migdal Nofim Room 708

Kiryat Hayovel

Jerusalem 9650230

Israel

Tel 0528-375593

Nofim Tel 972-(0)2-6580222

Home 972 (2)6418387 no messages

#It is a very sad day. Veronica phoned me this morning to tell me that Uta's mother had died after a long illness. I spoke to her just a few #even if only for a few days and since then we have been in touch all the time. I often thought of her when I was writing my letters and won #Then yesterday too my friend's grandson was mortally wounded. He has particles in his brain and there does not seem to be much hope. It wa #I can think of nothing positive happening in my life. Then I read of our president whom I realise does not have a brain in his head. He si #It is getting harder and harder to write. woman Orit Stroch. a settler #who wrote demanding to know whether the pilots who said they would not report for future reserve duty had refused to take part in the war?#Outrage as far-right minister suggests some pilots refusing air support for Gaza troops #Settlements Minister Orit Strock widely reported to ask at cabinet if some in Air Force are failing to carry out their duties for ideologic #https://www.timesofisrael.com/outrage-after-far-right-minister-suggests-some-pilots-refusing-to-support-gaza-troops #Today the Jerusalem municipality came to the tent of the families and took down and tore all their signs and a bunch of hooligans came pa #https://www.jpost.com/israel-news/crime-in-israel/article-779881 #779881 #After a long interval because of the war #we had not been to the DCO and decided to go. We were surprised to find about 15 men there. They had all been summoned by the ISA #the secret service. One indignantly told us that he had to pull his trousers down to his ankles and did not know why. They also told us tha #We then decided to see what is happening at the entrance to Beit Lechem from road 60. Until the war the road was completely open but this i #Shlomit got out to photograph and immediately a soldier came running up demanding our IDs. We told him we only have to show IDs to a police #as we were on the main road of the town and not in the area of the checkpoint #to be shown proof that where we were standing was a closed army area. He claimed that we had photographed him and said that it was easy to #He said he would phone the police and we said to be our guest. I said to Shlomit that it was just as well we had not driven off before we #Today we went to plant trees with one of the farmers from Burin. Not that I could help but I go to identify. This is how the others went up #But then we also have this......I remember how Israelis said what animals the Palestinians are that whenever there was an attack on Israeli #and this caricature appeared in one of the far right newspapers. If it had been from a newspaper on the left or a journalist/ whoever publ #Sorry I wish I could write something positive #Henrietta Szold 2 #Migdal Nofim Room 708 #Kiryat Hayovel #Jerusalem 9650230 #Israel #Tel 0528-375593

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rosiereveries · 9 days ago

Text

Part three of CEO!John Price

Part one | Part two

CW : smut, oral sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, mating press, little power imbalance, reader is a female

After you read the note that John left for you on your table, you are left feeling quite nervous but also excited. You were prepared for this. When you were getting ready for work this morning, you put on your favorite underwear. Lacy pink panties and matching bra that made your tits look great. You put on a lot of perfume, the one John had bought for you. You wore your best outfit, and you felt sexy and confident. You wanted to impress John, yesterday took you by surprise, but now you were in charge. When the time for his lunch break came, you were ready, so when you went to his office you knew what you wanted. You wanted him.

You find John sitting behind his table, working on his laptop. He looks good, so fucking hot without even trying. When he realizes that it´s you, who just walked in, he immediately shuts up his laptop and his full attention is on you. “Suddenly my day just got a lot better” he says and walks to you.

He gently places his hand on your cheek, and he kisses you. It’s nothing like the kiss you shared yesterday. This one is soft and gentle, like now he has time to taste you properly. He takes his time kissing you. When you try to touch him more, he pulls away. “Not now sweetheart, we have plans don’t we”. John walks out of the office with you. His hand on your back walking you through the whole floor like you’re his wife and not his secretary.

You’re confused. You expected a quick sex in his office, just like yesterday, you expected him to just pull your skirt up and fuck you on the desk. But now he is taking you somewhere in his expensive car and you’re wondering what the hell is going on.

You don’t know how John is feels about dating. You always thought that he was the type who just had casual sex with different partners. Since you started working for him, he didn’t have a girlfriend, but you heard from your colleges that he enjoys a company of beautiful women. Sometimes the relationship lasts longer but mostly there were a few weeks hook ups.

You stop in front of some Italian restaurant. He opens your door for you and like a true gentleman he helps you to get out of the car. The restaurant is lovely, there are only a few people inside and it looks really cozy. After you order your food he asks about your day, how did you sleep and what are your plans for the evening. He acts like you’re on a normal date and not on a business lunch. “I can see that something is bothering you, you don’t like it here?” John asks you after he notices how out of the place you look.

You tell him that you don’t understand what is going on, why are you here and what are you doing. “Well, I know that you don’t go out for your lunch break, so I wanted to take my girl out, take care of you.” He says it is not a big deal. “Your girl?” you ask. “What did you thought that I’m just going to fuck you in my office, when I am will be bored? John asks and your face goes red. That is exactly what you thought he would do. “I take care of my partners. I want to spoil you. Since you started to work for me you have been such a good girl, making my life so much easier. Now it is my turn.” You’re left speechless.

After the lunch, he takes you back to the office. His hand is on your thigh while he drives and it’s making you insane. Yes, you do like that he took you out but you’re so horny. The whole morning you imagined what he would do to you, and you were excited. And now he is teasing you with his fingers lightly brushing over your skin and each time he goes higher and higher.

At one moment when John’s hand is almost all the way under your skirt you moan. He looks at you with a playfulness in his eyes. Now he is teasing you on purpose. He continues to drive while his hand is slowly making its way in your panties. “Fuck love, you’re soaked, you could tell me that you wanted me so much.” Gently he starts to circle your clit and you’re opening your legs more for him.

He slowly puts two of his fingers inside you and after a while he starts to move them. You’re almost at the office building when he makes a turn and starts to drive in a different direction. “Where are we going?” you ask. “I made a promise to you yesterday, haven’t I. Were not fucking in my car. I am taking you to my place, so we don’t have to worry about some of your colleagues catching us fucking. We would want Janice from finance to see how good you take my cock. Am I right?”

To be honest you don’t care if Janice saw you. You’re so close and you can feel your orgasm approaching. John still casually drives while his fucking your pussy with his fingers. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you’re desperate, you just need a little bit more and you know that he knows it too. “You will come on my face in a minute don’t worry” John says.

And he is right the drive to his house is short and you both quickly get out of the car. When the door to his house closes behind you, he is immediately on you. Kissing you passionately and lifting you up so your legs are wrapped on his hips. He walks with you up the stairs not letting you go.

“Everything off, I want to see you” he says when he lays you on his bed. You’re quick with your clothes and now you lay before him in nothing but your panties. “Fucking beautiful, and I bet you taste even better than you look.” “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart, let me see you” he gently pulls your panties, and he shows his head between your thighs. You’re already so wet and when he finally starts to lick your pussy your gone. You arch your back, and you can hear him whisper fucking perfect for me.

When his tongue finds you clit you’re gone. He looks up at you and you can see your wetness on his beard and it’s the hottest thing you have ever seen. He quickly brings you to your orgasm and as he promised you to come on his face. When you finally come down from your orgasm you can see him taking his shirt off. He unzips his pants and quickly takes them off. He is on you naked, and you can see his hard dick leaking precum.

“I want to see your face this time, I want to see how pretty you’re going to look when I make you come on my dick.” He slowly pushes in you. “You were made for me honey, youre going to be the death of me.” he growls, and he starts to move in you. John is a big man and the way his stretching you is amazing. You can feel him everywhere and you are full.

It’s completely different than the sex you had yesterday. This is slow, his thrusts are hard, but it’s not rushed like the last time. He plays with your nipples, and you can feel that your second orgasm is approaching. “I am going to cum” you tell him, and you can feel that he is close too. He pushes your legs to your chest in a mating press and you can feel him so much deeper. “I need to come in your sweet pussy, please sweetheart be a good girl and let me” he says and you just nod. His fingers start to rub your clit and your orgasm hits you. He follows shortly after you spilling his seed into you. When he pulls out of you, he pulls you to his chest and he holds you so tight. You just lay there and you on his chest and his hands holding you.

You don’t go back to work that day, you stay at his place the night and the next day he drives you to your apartment. He tries to convince you to take the rest of the week off, so he can enjoy your company, but you tell him that he is the boss, and he needs to work, and he can’t take a vacation just because he is horny. You go to work and when you go to your desk you see a note there, just like yesterday. But this time it says: My office now! And loose your panties on the way.

Masterlist

#john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod #john price x f!reader #john price x you #smut #task force 141 #captain john price #captain price x reader #rosiereveries

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 2 months ago

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i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night

bf!rafe cameron x fem!reader

cw — alcohol, brief talks abt arguing, this is lowk short

summary — you drunk call rafe for a ride home from your friends house.

a/n — whipped this up in a few minutes so please don’t be too harsh. request!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you sat outside with the warm breeze as you waited on the steps to your best friends house for your boyfriend to pick you up. you were completely out of it, eyes feeling heavy, body all soft and feeling like jelly from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through you.

you’d probably had one too many drinks and you were expecting a lecture from rafe when he arrived but you were too far past the point of caring. you just wanted to see him and go home after the terrible day you’d had.

the two of you had argued earlier in the afternoon which eventually led to you both parting ways and not speaking for a few hours. you were both very opinionated and you had attitudes that often didn’t mix well when you were frustrated. one of you usually apologized though and you guys moved past it.

this one was different though. you knew you’d been a little mean in your replies but you also felt like he deserved a little reality check. you currently couldn’t even remember why you were arguing due to your drunken state, but you knew it was something you guys could easily get over. you two would probably forget about it by morning anyway.

when you finally saw the big truck pull into the driveway, you quickly stood and almost immediately regretted the sudden action. your head began to spin and a pain accumulated behind your eyelids as you drunkenly stumbled to his car. he was standing on the passengers side waiting for you.

once you approached after tripping over your own feet, he opened up the door for you without a word and helped you up the big step to get inside. he shut it behind you and made his way into his own seat. he assured you had your seatbelt on and began reversing out of the driveway without a word.

“i’m sorry,” you slurred quietly, noticing the way both his hands held the steering wheel instead of one of them resting on your thigh. “didn’t know who else to call.”

you heard him sigh and begin to drive. “would rather you call me than anyone else,” he admitted honestly and spared a glance in your direction. his heart broke a little at the soft pout on your lips and the sad glint in your eyes. “‘nd i’m not mad at you, baby. ‘s fine.”

your eyes glistened with tears as you looked at him. “you’re not?” you mumbled under your breath, eyes feeling heavier and your head getting all foggy.

he shook his head with a shrug and gently rested his hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. “could never be mad at you,” he said before the car fell into a comfortable silence. the only sound being the quiet song playing on his radio.

you didn’t know when you fell asleep or how long it’d been since, but you began to wake to the sight of rafe standing in front of you looking extremely focused and a soft towel being dragged carefully over your cheeks. you were sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread slightly and him standing between them with majority of your body weight leaning against his.

he was holding your jaw in one hand while the other hand did what you assumed was taking off your makeup. when you finally fluttered your eyes open for real this time, he scanned your face and placed the towel down on the counter. “you have fun tonight?”

you nodded and smiled softly. “mhm. morgan’s friends are really nice. the bar was so cool,” you replied, awkwardly rubbing your hands along your thighs not knowing whether or not it was appropriate to touch him. “‘m really sorry, rafe.”

he went silent for a moment but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “its okay, sweetheart. we both said some shit we shouldn’t have. ‘s alright. people make mistakes.”

“i was bein’ a bitch earlier,” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his chest.

he laughed softly and smoothed a hand down the back of your head comfortingly. “i think i can handle your attitude pretty well by now,” he replied just barely above a whisper. “c’mon. time for bed.”

you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you and walking you to your shared bedroom before dropping you down gently on your side. he was quick to pull his shirt over his head and crawl under the covers beside you.

you scooted closer to his side and sighed at the familiar warmth you enjoyed so much. his arm loosely fell to the dip of your waist as he scrolled through netflix to find a movie on, knowing you couldn’t sleep without the tv on. “i love you baby,” you muttered through a sleep-laced voice.

he smiled and pressed a kiss to your hair. “i love you more, angel.”

#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#rafe cameron imagine #rafe angst #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #rafe cameron obx #obx #drew starkey

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joonie-beanie · 8 months ago

Text

A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself.

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked.

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask.

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”.

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building.

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands.

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment.

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say.

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket.

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours.

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you.

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today.

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day.

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you.

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be.

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright.

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat.

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy—

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening.

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice.

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm.

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back.

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat.

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him.

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette.

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass.

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay.

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe.

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart.

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours.

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop.

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body.

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm.

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you.

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt.

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head.

Finally, you're bare beneath him.

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass.

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before.

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger.

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away.

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!”

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much.

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair.

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.”

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you.

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is.

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension.

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole.

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom.

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin.

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours.

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body.

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more.

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go.

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss.

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm.

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts.

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you.

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent.

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips.

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you.

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you.

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you.

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek.

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy.

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station.

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office.

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more.

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes.

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body.

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment.

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze.

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

#genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette fic #genshin impact x reader #bean fic #genshin x reader

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