#fanfic smut

[sushirrrry]

majesty - part one.

| masterlist | wattpad word count: 16881 summary: in 1803 England, Josephine Dowding escapes a troubled past by accepting a position as governess to the daughters of the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland. thrilled at the opportunity for stability, she devotes herself to her work, hoping her secrets remain buried in the ground and unspoken. however, her resolve is tested when she meets the Duke’s rakish eldest son, Lord Styles, upon his return from war. known for his charm and scandalous reputation, his piercing stares unsettle Josephine during family suppers, leaving her questioning her composure and safety in his presence. as she navigates life in the castle, Josephine struggles to discern whether the creaking noises outside her door are mere whispers of the old manor or the harbinger of something far more personal.

now let's head back to 1803. enjoy.

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The sound of the carriage wheels rattled over the frozen gravel, each jolt jarring Josephine’s fragile composure as she held her cloak closely against herself. A gasp escaped her occasionally, as she found the ride a bit unnerving, her alertness at her forefront when she would go to grab at the seat.

She felt that her old life had been forgotten with every inch that she moved towards a new one.

As the towering spires of Northumberland Manor came into view from the small window, silhouetted against the pale gray of a winter sky, she tightened her grip on the fraying edges of her cloak. This place was meant to be her sanctuary, far removed from the bruises of her past and the whispers of a life she longed to forget back in Surrey.

It had not been long since she had left her previous life, so the memories had been fresh in the back of her mind. The struggle that had come upon her had forever changed her outlook on how life should be lived. She had fled to Ashbourne from Surrey; looking for any sign of a newly advanced life to forget where she had come from. Now, she had found a resilience to move forward—leading her to Northumberland, for a new role.

It was a fear she hadn’t wished upon her worst enemy; the fear of instability, worthlessness—leaving was in her best interest, she knew that now. But it had been a feat to bring herself to this conclusion.

Every sharp sound reminded her of the night that she left. She had been told to stay; she had been instructed to. But something inside of her rushed her cloak over her body, and in an instant, she had fled. She had stayed in the shadows in Ashbourne, hoping for an opportunity such as this to arise. She wondered if he had been looking for her as her mind had continued to encourage.

Ages went by without a lead to a new life.

And then, almost as if all hope had been given up, she found herself on her way to Northumberland Castle with instruction from the Duke and Duchess.

The year was marked as 1803; Northumberland Castle loomed before Josephine Dowding like a somber, snow-dusted fortress in the winter season. This was to be her chance—a position as governess to the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland's daughters, a role that promised purpose, stability, and, most importantly, respectability by those above her in society. When she had gotten the letter of acceptance of the position, she had felt like the wind was knocked out of her.

It was an opportunity for redemption—it was her opportunity to leave when she felt that she had no voice.

Josephine’s hands trembled as they sat in her lap, merely a distraction from all the thoughts that lingered between her ears. It was not the cold that made her shiver but the memory of whispered threats and the bruises that had yet to fade completely.

Northumberland Castle was not just a new beginning—it was to now be her refuge. She would bring her lessons, her capability and poise to the manor now.

Once the carriage had come to a halt, her breathing had started to quicken.

"Miss Dowding, we’ve arrived," the coachman called, snapping her from her reverie.

When the door of the carriage opened, she felt the direct cold air sharp on her skin. Her hand had found its way to the coachman as he simply helped her down to the ground. The gravel beneath her feet crunched before she was able to look upwards at the statute of the manor itself.

Without a word of her own, her eyes traveled to the voice of the woman standing and waiting for an arrival—hers, perhaps. Josephine hadn’t thought of herself to be as important as needing a greeting from the Duchess of Northumberland, Margaretta Styles, herself, so her confidence drifted to a higher place instantly.

The outside of the palace was as grey as the sky, matching the tone of the sad, empty winter scenery. The front had columns that held the structure into place, curvature of arches and green shrubbery that Josephine could only imagine was bustling with fresh flowers in the warmer months.

She took in the sight, wondering how on earth someone was fortunate enough to come from such privilege. But she felt grateful to be able to be a part of it, somehow. As her attention drew away from the palace back to the woman in front of her, she gave her best and most professional smile.

“Miss Dowding, I presume,” The duchess began, her tone measured but not unkind, “welcome to Northumberland—I hope your journey was well traveled. We are pleased to have you join us as governess to our daughters.”

The word of the woman was held with pride and curiosity; Josephine held her shoulders back to offer her best, but she found it hard to tell her own smile this, as the nerves seemed to uphold her.

“Y-Yes—I,” She fumbled over her words, letting her feet move to curtsey, “I am. It’s a privilege to be in your presence and to serve your family, your grace.”

The duchess stepped closer, her gown whispering against the fine gravel. She was an elegant woman, with dark hair coiled neatly at her nape and eyes that missed no detail; Josephine had watched them travel along her corset and cloak that were certainly her best, but by no means the best. For a moment, she studied Josephine in silence, as though assessing her worth with a single glance. A blush had crept onto Josephine’s cheeks as she watched the woman smile, almost fondly.

“You come highly recommended, you know,” the duchess continued, a faint smile gracing her lips. “I trust you are aware of the discipline and refinement required for a position such as this.”

“Yes, your grace,” Josephine replied, lifting her head just enough to meet the duchess’ gaze. “I assure you, and your family, that I am both capable and committed to this opportunity.”

The duchess nodded, her expression softening. “Good. My children can be... very spirited at times, particularly Beatrice. I expect you will handle them with patience and resolve.”

“I shall, your grace,” Josephine said, a flicker of confidence finding its way into her voice. If there was one thing that she was confident on, it had been her ability to speak with children.

“Excellent.” The duchess gestured back towards the house; another woman, older than them both, had made her way out to the courtyard to greet them.

“Come, you’ve had a long journey, and I wish to hear more about you. After all, if you are to guide my children, it is only fitting that I know the woman entrusted with such a task. Miss Ellory here will assist with your bags, and we will allow you to freshen before we sit for a tea.”

The duchess recognized that another person had been standing there, her eyes flickering towards the carriage for Ellory to retrieve Josephine’s bags.

Josephine hesitated, startled by the invitation, but quickly curtsied again. “Of course, your grace. Thank you.”

As the grand oak doors swung open to reveal flickering candlelight and shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly, a knot formed in her stomach that hadn’t been there previously. For all its promise of safety, something about the manor—which she now realized was quite the castle—had given her a reminder of the task that she had assigned to herself.

The grand foyer was a marvel. Walls adorned with ancestral portraits loomed over her, their subjects’ eyes seeming to follow her as she walked through the hallways towards the sitting room that was anything but subtle. A massive chandelier hung above, its crystals glittering in the flickering firelight. Josephine’s lips parted in awe, though she quickly suppressed the expression, wary of seeming too impressed.

"This way, Miss Dowding," said the stern-faced housekeeper, Ellory, who led her through a labyrinth of hallways. Her small room, tucked in the east wing, was modest—plain furniture, a narrow bed, and a single frosted window—but it was hers.

"It will do just fine," Josephine murmured softly, setting her trunk down. She had given Ellory a smile of encouragement, hoping to not signify anything differently than her complete and utter approval.

“Tea will be in the main hall momentarily. Take a moment to freshen up for the duchess,” Ellory’s words were curt, but they were met with a small up-turn of her lips when Josephine stared at her with a doe-eyed look of fear. “Just as a small favor, make sure to tell her how much you adore the new timepiece on the mantel. It is a gift from her son—she will think very highly of your compliment, I am sure.”

The tidbit of information made Josephine’s head tilt just a bit, almost as if the hint was a dutiful favor from one act of service to another.

Josephine took in a breath, taking the information in before she nodded a few times. “Very well, I appreciate the gesture,” She smiled at the woman, “Thank you.”

Once she had been left alone, the wooden door shut with a clank. The room wasn’t very well lit, hardly able to see her hands in front of her once she had been closed into the tight space.

This was not just an adjustment, but a change far greater than Josephine could have ever dreamed of. She was far more grateful to this opportunity than she could ever say with any verbal discussion, but she hoped that her work would translate her gratitude to the duke and duchess.

As Josephine moved to sit, she felt a glimmer of hope that she hadn’t felt previously; almost as if everything that she had dealt with prior had led to this moment. She took a heavy breath, pushing all the air out of her lungs in relief. The duchess’s tone carried authority, but there was warmth beneath it, she could tell—a sign that perhaps this new chapter in her life would not be as daunting as she had feared. Or so she hoped.

---

Josephine smoothed her skirts yet again, feeling the weight of the moment as she descended the grand staircase of Northumberland Hall, down towards the main affair where she knew that the duchess would be waiting. Her nerves had gotten the best of her, wondering if she had left the Lady waiting for too long.

Each step echoed faintly against the stone walls, a reminder of the vastness of her new world. She hadn’t seen a residence such as this before, which led her mind to take a wander on what could possibly be behind each door. The late afternoon sunlight, which had now been gracefully pushing through the dark clouds, filtered through the towering stained-glass windows, casting dappled hues of crimson and gold onto the polished wooden banister.

She reached the foot of the staircase, pausing to take in the opulence of the main hall. Marble columns stretched to a high, vaulted ceiling adorned with intricate plasterwork. Above the massive stone hearth, a portrait of the late duke loomed, his stern gaze following her as if appraising the new governess. The fire beneath crackled warmly, casting flickering shadows across the room.

At the center of this stately scene sat the Duchess of Northumberland, poised with regal elegance in an intricately carved high-backed chair. She wore a gown of deep emerald green, the fabric shimmering faintly in the firelight, and a delicate string of pearls adorned her neck. Her sharp eyes fixed on Josephine with an assessing gaze that made her feel simultaneously welcome and on trial, both giving her lungs a moment of cease.

"Miss Josephine," the duchess greeted, her voice a harmonious blend of authority and civility. "Do join me, won’t you? We have much to discuss, and I am sure you are famished.”

Josephine curtsied deeply, her palms damp against her skirts. "Your grace, thank you for your hospitality."

“Please,” The duchess shook her wrist at the curtsey, “No need for pleasantries any longer. You are welcome here and are to be a part of our family. For I am not of royal blood, but just matrimony.” She laughed softly, her fingertips tracing the pearls around her neck.

Josephine let out a sigh of relief, “As you wish, thank you.”

The duchess gestured with a graceful hand to the tea service laid out on a low table of polished mahogany. Fine China cups, rimmed with gold, gleamed under the light of the chandelier overhead. A silver teapot steamed gently, its scent a comforting mix of bergamot and lavender. Josephine took a few small crackers that had been laid on the plates in front of them. She took it upon herself to take a few bites, shutting her eyes as she was thankful for the snack.

"Please," the duchess said, pouring tea with measured precision in each of their cups. "Sit. Make yourself feel at home here.”

Josephine had taken time to make her way to the opposite seat across from the Duchess. “Your home is one of dreams, your grace, truly.”

The duchess stared up at her with what Josephine could only identify as a sheepish grin, her hand moving to take ahold of the teacup that she held in front of her lips now. “It is a privilege to live within these walls,” She shook her head with wonder, “The history and folklore that these walls preside is nothing that I take for granted. I remember the day that the duke and I found our residence here—the day after we wed,” Josephine saw the awe on her face at the remembrance of that day, “It had to be the most gracious day of my life.”

Josephine took a sip of her own tea, letting her hands fall into her lap with the small cup. “I imagine it has always been quite beautiful, especially raising a family here. I love the countryside.”

The duchess tilted her head slightly, studying Josephine as if weighing her response. "Tell me, Miss Josephine, where is it you come from? Your accent has a softness that suggests you are not of the North."

Josephine straightened in her chair, her hands lightly gripping her teacup. "No, your grace, you are correct. I am from Surrey, originally—however, I am coming this morning from a small village in Ashbourne. It is by the sea.”

She hoped that the duchess didn’t inquire anything further regarding Ashbourne, as it had been her refuge, not her homestead.

The duchess raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering across her otherwise impassive features. "And your family?"

A sigh of relief seemed to coat Josephine’s lungs for a moment before she found her voice again.

"My parents are tenants on an estate," Josephine explained, her voice steady but reserved. "My father is the steward of the land and stables, and my mother oversees the household for the squire."

"An industrious upbringing," the duchess observed. "And your siblings? I presume you have them?"

Josephine hesitated for a moment before answering. "I have an elder brother, William. He manages the estate with my father. And I had a younger sister,” She paused, her voice softening as she thought of Florence fondly. "She passed away when she was very young. They believe that it had been fever."

The duchess’ expression shifted slightly, her sharp gaze softening at the edges. "My deepest condolences regarding your sister. It isn’t lost on me how difficult that is," She licked her lips softly, “My eldest sister had died of plague when I was only seven—it devastated my mother to bits, I don’t believe she was ever the same.”

"Thank you, your grace. I am sorry to hear of your sister, as well.” Josephine replied, bowing her head slightly.

After a sad beat, the duchess took another sip of her tea and found herself questioning Josephine yet again.

“How did you come to this profession?" The duchess inquired, leaning back in her chair, her hands folded neatly over her lap, the tea having a coat of steam beaming upwards on the table across from her.

"My mother encouraged me to pursue an education beyond what was typical for our privilege," Josephine said. "She believed it was the surest path to independence. I was fortunate to study under a governess as a girl, and I later took positions with other families in the region to help solidify my understandings of literature and arithmetic. I am quite fond of literature, if I am to be biased."

The duchess nodded; her expression unreadable, but Josephine felt that it had an air of relief along with it. "A sensible decision. You seem well-suited for the role, especially with your presence here today, with me,” She took in a breath as she shook her head with a taught smile, “You will have to take a glance at our library if you are so interested in literature. It is quite an impressive spread, if I do say so myself. From the travels of my son, it is imperative that you take advantage of his collection.”

A soft rustle caught her attention, then. Two young girls, peeking from behind the heavy brocade curtains at the far end of the hall, giggled before stepping hesitantly into view.

"My goodness, girls," The duchess announced with a laugh, her tone softening as her gaze fell upon them. "Miss Josephine, I am quite sorry for their abrupt appearance—they can be so mischievous,” She turned to the young girls again, “Eleanor and Beatrice, please come introduce yourselves at once.”

Lady Eleanor, the elder at about twelve, stood with a poised stillness that seemed to mirror her mother. Her auburn hair was swept into an elegant braid, and her blue-gray eyes regarded Josephine with quiet curiosity. Lady Beatrice, no more than eight, radiated a perpetrating energy. Her dark curls framed a round, impish face, and she shifted from foot to foot, her hands clasped behind her back as if hiding some mischief. Both carried the same facial freckles that left Josephine in awe of their natural beauty.

The duchess waved a hand towards the young girls as they made their entrance, standing in front with their eyes on Josephine.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Josephine offered, taking a stand. “I am Josephine, and I am quite ecstatic to fulfill my role in helping you learn.”

"It will be your charge to oversee their education and development. Eleanor is excelling in literature but requires additional focus in mathematics and French. Beatrice..." The duchess paused, casting a knowing look at her youngest. "Beatrice will need someone to channel her... enthusiasm into more productive endeavors."

Beatrice giggled openly, her laugh as bright as her mother’s pearls, while Eleanor cast her a sidelong glance of gentle reproach.

"I shall do my utmost, your grace," Josephine replied, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "It is an honor to be entrusted with their care."

"You may establish your own routine as you wish," The duchess said, her tone firm but not unkind. "However, discipline and decorum are paramount. They must be prepared for their roles in society, and this household will tolerate nothing less."

"Of course, your grace.” Josephine said with a nod.

Eleanor spoke at last, her voice soft but clear. "Will you be teaching us history, too? I’d like to learn more about the Wars of the Roses."

Josephine’s smile widened at her gesture towards learning. "I’d be delighted, Lady Eleanor. Perhaps we can even study historical figures through their letters and journals. I hear that there is quite an impressive library here; I would love to explore that with you."

Beatrice leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she took ahold of Josephine’s wrist for a moment "Do you know riddles? Miss Carden didn’t, and she always made me write lines instead."

Josephine chuckled at the childish question, watching the duchess’ knowing eyebrow quirk at the measure. "I do know a few. Maybe we can trade riddles once your lessons are complete. Or perhaps, after supper this evening."

Beatrice clapped her hands in delight, while Eleanor’s lips curved in a faint, approving smile.

The duchess observed the exchange in silence, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "You may begin tomorrow. Take this afternoon to familiarize yourself with the girls and the household,” The duchess stared at the girls for a moment, “Eleanor and Beatrice, please go finish freshening up. We will be seating for dinner soon, and I know that it can take you quite some time, hm?”

The teasing look of the mother made the girls giggle with knowingness as they adhered to their mother’s direction, making their way towards the stairwell to take them to their rooms.

The duchess poured another cup of tea, the faint chime of the porcelain echoing in the vastness of the hall. The fire crackled warmly, and Josephine watched the flames dance for a moment, the weight of her new role settling on her shoulders.

Josephine let her eyes drift to the mantel that sat the timepiece that Ellory had made a mention of when she had been freshening up in her quarters. “They seem delightful, your grace. I look forward to working with them.” A pause for a moment before she licked over her lip softly, “I cannot help but notice the beauty of that timepiece there. It is quite magnificent.”

The duchess took in a breath before she seemed taken by Josephine’s compliment, nodding as she finished the rest of the tea in her cup. “Thank you,” She seemed to remember a fondness, “My eldest brought that back from France as a gift. Isn’t it lovely?”

It had taken a moment for Josephine to think about the implications of the comment; taking some time to make sure that she had been thorough enough with her questioning of her role and duties. “Will I be overseeing their education as well?”

The duchess laughed lightly; a sound as soft as silk as she shook her head. “No, Miss Josephine. Lord Styles is well beyond needing a governess. He’s recently returned from London—he is the one I stated had the collection of literature in our library. He spends most of his time... elsewhere.” Her eyes sparkled as she took another sip of tea. “Though I imagine he will find his way here for dinner this evening, and I would be delighted to introduce you.”

Josephine hesitated, sensing something unspoken in the duchess’ tone, but she didn’t question it; instead, succumbing and nodding. “I see. I look forward to meeting him, your grace.”

The duchess set her teacup down with deliberate care, her smirk settling into a satisfied smile. “Oh, I have no doubt you will, Miss Josephine. No doubt at all.” A knowing look made Josephine smile, “He is quite something.”

Josephine felt a strange warmth rise to her cheeks, though she couldn’t quite place why. The duchess returned her attention to the fire, her thoughts her own, as if she already knew what the evening might bring.

---

The soft glow of the evening lamps illuminated the grand corridors of Northumberland Hall as Josephine made her way down the stairs, once again, and towards the dining hall as instructed. She was able to get a few moments of rest after tea with the duchess, letting her eyes shut briefly. Before she knew it, the sky had fallen into a darkness quickly as she knew it quickly did in the winter months.

Once on the main level of the palace, she had noticed that quite a few more individuals were filling the space of the large manor. Much more than before, she thought.

The faint hum of activity filled the air—servants bustling about, arranging flowers, polishing silver, and ensuring every detail was immaculate for supper. Though new to the household, Josephine couldn’t ignore the lively energy that seemed to ripple through the palace tonight. While she knew to expect the duchess, Eleanor, and Beatrice to attend dinner, she still hadn’t made contact with the duke yet—or new information to her, the Marquess who had been discussed earlier.

The eldest child, son of the duke and duchess, she had learned.

Approaching the dining wing, she slowed her pace once she was able to hear some faint voices ahead of her. While she had been raised not to pry, it had been a saving grace for her in the past—knowing what was to come. Her ears caught snippets of a conversation between two footmen stationed near the service door, as if awaiting the arrival. They spoke in hushed tones, their voices low but tinged with excitement. It intrigued her greater, so her pace slowed.

“Lord Styles arrived this morning,” one whispered. “Straight from London. Brought his valet and half his wardrobe, I’d wager. Who knows how long his reign will be here.”

“London? He barely stayed a month, then. I wasn’t aware he had been back to mainland at all.” The other replied. “Always restless, that one. The war changed him, they say, but his charm hasn’t dulled a bit.”

Josephine held herself against the wall as she tried to lean her neck forward just a few more lengths.

“Charming or not,” the first murmured, “he’s still a hero. The stories you hear—the things he’s seen—makes you wonder how anyone comes back the same. He’s haunted, they say, though he hides it well enough. Still… his reputation precedes him, doesn’t it? Even the ladies in London can’t seem to resist him. Maybe he will be staying for social season. Maybe he will be settling.”

Josephine paused in the shadow of the corridor, her brow furrowing.

A hero. Restless. Haunted. Their words painted an image of someone far more complex than the heir to a dukedom she’d imagined. Her thoughts on the matter hadn’t been that pressed, but she certainly wasn’t aware that she was about to dine with a hero, at that.

She resumed her steps, her curiosity growing with each passing moment. Protocol for a governess was rarely complicated, as she understood it, but Lord Styles seemed to command a certain gravity of a situation that she was merely unfamiliar. If she was to dine in his presence, she needed to be prepared.

As she wandered down the hall, she spotted Miss Ellory in the side hall directing maids to their posts, Josephine approached her with quiet purpose, then. The older woman, always sharp-eyed, noticed her immediately.

“Miss Josephine,” Miss Ellory greeted with a brisk nod. “What can I do for you? I do not expect that we will be sitting down for supper for just a while yet.”

Josephine hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I appreciate your timeliness, Ellory,” She nodded, “But I have more of a question regarding placement here, that you could possibly answer for me. I-I, well,” She paused for a moment before Ellory egged her on.

“Go on, dear.” She suggested softly.

“I understand Lord Styles will be joining supper this evening. I thought it prudent to inquire about any expectations regarding his presence—I have heard stories about him that seem far serious, and I wish to ensure I observe the proper decorum and not be naïve.”

Miss Ellory paused at Josephine’s question, watching with a flicker of understanding crossing her face then. “Ah, yes. Lord Styles.” She motioned for a maid to step aside, then turned her full attention to Josephine. “His arrival always stirs the household. You needn’t worry about decorum—he’s no tyrant—but it’s wise to understand the man, certainly. I know him quite well, as I watched him become a man in these halls.”

Josephine nodded, waiting as the housekeeper seemed to consider her words carefully.

“Lord Styles is the eldest son, the Duke and Duchess’s pride and heir,” Miss Ellory explained. “He returned from the wars a hero in the eyes of the world—truly, Northumberland salute him as far above his lordship, it seems. His bravery on the battlefield earned him renown, though he rarely speaks of it himself.” She paused, her voice softening to try and make it quiet, just between the two of them as they stood off and away from the others. “The war left its scars. Haunted, perhaps would be a better term for it. He conceals it with charm, but those who’ve known him longer can see the shadows beneath. I believe that he is merely covering up what he’s seen.”

Josephine’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her shawl as she drew it around herself, “And what of his reputation?”

Miss Ellory’s lips curved faintly, though her tone remained measured. “I see you may have heard some notorious gossip around the premise.” The teasing nature of the words left Josephine with a hare of blush on her cheek—Ellory scrunched her nose at the viewing.

“Before the war, Lord Styles was known as a rake, a man of society who could charm his way through any salon in London—believe me, I had a fair share of ensuring that princesses were sent to their carriages quickly and fervently in the night, without a sight here at the manor. So, God only knows what he has been up to in London. It’s completely improper, I know, but I know that the Lord’s heart is full and wonderous. He’s still the same in some ways—his wit is sharp, and women are drawn to him—but his time on the battlefield changed him. There’s a depth to him now, though I suspect even he struggles to reconcile who he was with who he is.”

Josephine felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name—sympathy, curiosity, or perhaps a touch of apprehension. “I see. Thank you, Miss Ellory.”

The housekeeper nodded, her expression softening. “You’ll do well enough, Miss Josephine. Just be yourself. He’s had enough of insincerity in London, I imagine,” She reached to hold onto Josephine’s upper arm, giving her a squeeze, “I suspect that he’ll find you quite charming; possibly the sincerity he’ll need to return back here.”

With a soft nod, a hearty glance, Josephine felt a warmth in the touch. She gave a nod to Ellory with a thanks. “I appreciate you warning me. I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Ellory shook her head, letting the smile on her face show. “I don’t think you will miss a thing, Miss Josephine. You’ve got an inkling for observation, and I think that will do you a great service here. It’s best to stay informed.”

Josephine murmured her another short thanks before continuing down the corridor.

As she passed through the arched doorway into the drawing room, the low hum of activity faded with the space put between it. When she stepped into the room, she had noticed that Eleanor sat curled on the sofa, her auburn hair falling in neat waves over her shoulders as she pored over a leather-bound book. Beatrice was sprawled on the carpet nearby, absently playing with a wooden horse as the fire roared on the other side of her.

Josephine took a seat beside Eleanor, her curiosity now redirected. “What are you reading, Lady Eleanor?”

Eleanor glanced up, her expression momentarily brightening when she recognized Josephine taking a seat beside her “A book about ancient Rome. Did you know they had aqueducts that carried water to entire cities?”

Josephine smiled at the child’s curiosity, seeing a glimmer of herself in the hunger for knowledge and learning. “Indeed, I did. The ingenuity of their engineering is remarkable, isn’t it? Have you reached the part about Julius Caesar yet?”

Eleanor nodded enthusiastically, launching into an animated description of the chapter she’d just finished— the part of the story when civil war in Italy had been impeding with Caesar’s leadership. Josephine listened intently, occasionally glancing at Beatrice, who was now attempting to balance her toy horse on one of her slippers. When the horse fell, she rolled her eyes with impatience; leading Josephine to smile momentarily.

“I see that you have excellent memory and observation, Lady Eleanor,” Josephine praised, watching as the young girl flipped through the pages in significant intrigue and excitement, “I shall hope to find things that will continue to interest you—I’m sure there are many things that we can study around Caesar. His letters are brilliant, his writing is exquisite.”

The young girl’s head whipped around in delight, “I would love that!”

While the sounds from the manor had ceased by her entrance of the room, it had begun to grow louder again. Josephine had turned her head to the sound of approaching footsteps; it had interrupted the quiet rhythm of their conversation regarding the read that Eleanor held in her hands. The voices carried through the hall, warm and welcoming, followed by a deeper tone—unmistakably masculine and faintly amused.

Josephine looked up just as Eleanor and Beatrice bolted from their spots, their skirts swishing as they raced toward the doorway when some individuals had entered the arched doorway.

“Harry!” Beatrice squealed, her voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room, in a childish manner that felt so pure and wholesome.

Lord Styles, his tall frame silhouetted against the lamplight of the hall. His dark hair was slightly unruly, his features sharp and striking as the dancing silhouette of the oil lamp. He was dressed impeccably; sharp golds glistened against the dark black of the coat tailored to his shoulders and waist. Though his posture carried a casual ease, it was suggested that he hadn’t been comfortable with formality.

He crouched slightly as Beatrice threw herself into his arms, laughing as he spun her in a brief circle. Eleanor followed more decorously from her space next to Josephine, though her smile was no less eager.

“My sweet girls, hello,” he said warmly, his voice rich and smooth as he held Beatrice on his hip, with a spectacular ease, and Eleanor held her arms around his waist.

The duchess followed close behind, her expression softening as she watched her children reunite. She caught Josephine’s eye for the briefest moment, her gaze flickering with that same knowing glint Josephine had seen earlier in the day.

Josephine sat frozen on the sofa, her hands resting lightly on her lap. She could feel the faint hum of energy that seemed to follow Lord Styles into the room, his presence commanding without effort. While she was glad that she had talked with Ellory prior to this, she wasn’t sure the proper protocol to introduce herself. High society worried her—she knew how to curtsey, how to say hello, how to introduce herself, but that felt almost insecure at that moment.

She suddenly understood why the staff had spoken of him with such reverence—and why the duchess had smirked when she mentioned him earlier. It was not lost on her that his presence would have made the enemy cower; he was tall, broody, a sense of confidence that lingered from the undeniable cut of his jawline to the way he stood so effortlessly.

As Lord Styles straightened, his gaze briefly swept the room, pausing when it landed on Josephine. His eyes held hers for a moment—curious, assessing, and faintly amused that she hadn’t made her way to introduce herself—before he turned his attention back to his family.

Josephine let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She remained seated on the sofa, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched the reunion unfold. Beatrice clung to Lord Styles, Eleanor stood beside him, quieter but no less eager, her hands clasped behind his back. “It is so good to have you home, Harry,” she said softly, her words carrying a depth of sincerity that made her older brother’s expression soften. “We’ve missed you greatly.”

“And it’s good to see you again, Ellie. I am glad to be back home.” He replied, brushing a strand of auburn hair from her face.

The duchess watched her children with an almost imperceptible smile, but her gaze flicked briefly to Josephine, who remained still and composed, unsure if she should join the conversation or wait to be addressed. Another man, who had just then entered the room, stood near the fireplace, his stern features softened by the glow of the flames as he observed the scene with quiet pride.

At last, the duchess broke the moment. “Benedict, Harry—I would like to introduce you to our guest this evening. Well, she’s going to be our guest most evenings, as Miss Josephine has arrived. She is to be our new houseguest—she has arrived this morning, as well.” The duchess turns towards her husband, “Miss Dowding, it is my highest honor to introduce you to my husband, the Duke of Northumberland, Benedict Styles,” She turned towards the marquess, “And to my eldest, Marquess of Havenbrook, Lord Harry Styles.”

Josephine’s heart skipped a beat as all eyes turned toward her. She rose gracefully—she had hoped—from the sofa, smoothing her skirts as she stepped forward and towards the family reunion of sorts.

Josephine curtsied, keeping her voice steady despite the weight of his attention from both the Duke and Lord themselves. “Miss Josephine Dowding, your graces. I’ve recently joined the household as governess to Lady Eleanor and Lady Beatrice. I hope to exceed all expectations.”

The duke bowed his head at the woman to acknowledge her grace, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dowding. You shall make a great impact on our children, I hope.”

Lord Styles’ lips curved into a faint, amused smile as he interrupted his father, “A governess? I will see that my sisters are in excellent hands.”

Eleanor tugged at his arm, beaming. “Oh, she’s wonderful, Harry! She says she knows riddles and stories and even said we could study Julius Caesar’s letters!”

“Julius Caesar, you say? That is far more than just literature and arithmetic,” Lord Styles arched an eyebrow, his smile widening. “I can see you’re already raising their expectations, Miss Dowding. I’ll have to keep up with the lessons myself.”

Josephine felt a blush rise to her cheeks but managed a polite smile. “I am sure that you would be able to keep up just fine, my lord.”

His eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary, she is positive, his expression unreadable in that precise moment. Then, with a faint tilt of his head, he turned back to his sisters.

“Well then,” the duchess said, clapping her hands lightly to draw everyone’s attention. “Now that introductions have been made, shall we proceed to supper in the dining hall?”

The family began moving toward the dining room, the duke offering his arm to the duchess as the girls followed in a flurry of chatter, not allowing any space between themselves and the marquess. Josephine trailed behind, her thoughts spinning as she tried to process the interaction.

Lord Styles had an undeniable presence—charming, yes, but also enigmatic. She had seen the way his eyes had darkened, just for a moment, when Eleanor spoke of his absence, and she couldn’t shake the sense that there was far more to him than the confident man who had stridden into the room with ease.

As they entered the dining room, Josephine was struck again by the grandeur of Northumberland Hall. The table was set with gleaming silver and crystal, the centerpiece a lavish arrangement of winter blooms that were covered in reds and greens to bring in the holiday season, approaching quickly. She took her assigned seat at the far end of the table, aware that her role at the table would require a balance of invisibility and attentiveness.

Lord Styles was seated to the right of her, at the head of the table, his mother on the opposite side of him. Eleanor sat on the opposite side of Josephine, Beatrice across from her—the duke at the other end of the table. Though he spoke animatedly with Eleanor and Beatrice, Josephine noticed moments where his gaze would drift, his expression distant, as though his thoughts were miles away. She hadn’t meant to stare, but she felt almost drawn to the way his facial construction had met expectations that were heavenly sent.

At one point, his eyes flicked to Josephine again, and she quickly dropped her gaze, pretending to adjust her napkin on her lap meaningfully. A faint smile played at the corner of his lips, as though he had caught her observation and found it quite amusing.

“I believe that a toast will be in order,” The duchess stated, holding her glass before looking over at the duke, “My dear, if you would please make a toast to honor Miss Dowding and Harry’s arrival.”

“Certainly,” The duke stood in his spot at the end of the table, raising his glass. “I would like to invite us to toast—Miss Dowding, your arrival has been awaiting us, especially since the sad departure of Miss Carden. We welcome you to our residence, and hope you find it to be comforting, warm, and a beautiful place to stay.”

Josephine smiled at the gesture, nodding in her appreciation as she watched the man turn to his own.

“Son, it’s marvelous to have you back at this manor, in the safety of our home. We relish everything that you have fought for and cannot wait to hear every detail of your travels during your stay back here. Your bravery for our country has exceed all our expectations, and we cannot welcome you back enough,” The duke holds his glass, “To this lovely supper, and to all of our prosperities.”

The warmth of the meal—the roast lamb with stewed vegetables had unfolded with ease, filled with laughter and light conversation between the six of them at the relatively small table. Yet, beneath the surface, Josephine felt the undercurrents of something unspoken—a tension or perhaps a weight that hung over Lord Styles like a shadow. His eyes remained fixed in some respects, watching as he held the knife with a bit of a shake to his fingers.

It was enough to make her stare, which led to her being a bit spooked by his directness towards her, his voice penetrating her studying.

"Miss Dowding," he said, his tone unreadable as Josephine watched his trained green eyes inhabit the way that she used her own knife, eyes blazing at her before she felt the redness cross her cheeks. "I trust you’re finding your position… satisfying so far?"

Josephine stiffened as Harry turned his gaze back to her.

"Very much so, my lord," she replied, her voice steady despite the way her heart raced just at the directness of his questioning.

He didn’t look away. "And are my sisters proving to be apt pupils?"

"As I’ve just arrived, I cannot give my truest thoughts, but from the time I have spent with them thus far, they are bright and eager to learn," Josephine said carefully, feeling the weight of every word under his scrutiny. "It will be a privilege to guide them to be their best, I can assure you."

The corner of his mouth quirked; a ghost of a smile that felt more mocking than kind, if she was being honest. "A governess who finds privilege in duty. How… rare." A dry laugh left him; his eyes moving to his mother as she quirked an eyebrow at his humor.

The duchess shook her head at his observation. “I think you would find that Miss Dowding is quite determined.”

“I shall see for myself, then.” Harry solidified, “I would like to sit in on a lesson—make sure that this is to be up to our standards. I would hate for Eleanor and Beatrice to get the wrong impressions on literary complex, hm?”

Josephine let her chewing of the cooked carrot take her mind off his own determination to possibly undermine her teachings.

“I would absolutely encourage that,” Josephine nodded in agreement with the lord’s comment. “You will be welcome to sit in on a lesson at any time.”

The conversation moved on, but Josephine felt his eyes on her throughout the meal. She dared not meet his gaze, but the heat of it lingered, making her pulse quicken and her appetite vanish just by the way she felt overwhelmed with judgement.

The fire crackled gently in the hearth that sat behind the duke, adding warmth to the air, but Josephine couldn’t shake the chill settling in her chest at the way she felt singled; intimidated by the wonder and curiosity of the man beside her. She sat near the end of the long table, her position a reminder of her role in the household—present, but on the periphery.

The duke and duchess were engaged in polite conversation about estate matters, while Eleanor and Beatrice giggled at some private joke shared between them, across from one another. Lord Styles had been quiet for most of the meal, save for the occasional charming quip or comment directed at his sisters.

Finally, during a lull in conversation, Lord Styles leaned back in his chair and directed his attention toward Josephine. “Miss Dowding,” he began, his tone more pleasant than previously, but edged with curiosity. “I apologize for not inquiring sooner—but where are you from?”

Josephine swallowed, knowing where this conversation was leading, but settling for a moment.

“Ashbourne, my lord.”

Harry looks up from his plate for a moment, eyes squinting at the answer, “It’s not often one hears of a governess arriving from a place like Ashbourne. How did you find your way to Northumberland?”

Josephine froze for a fraction of a second, her hand tightening imperceptibly on her fork. She had expected questions eventually, but not so soon—and not so directly with the tone that he had used. She forced a calm smile, willing her voice to remain steady.

“I was fortunate to hear of the position through a family acquaintance,” she replied. “They spoke highly of the household and its reputation. I was quite interested in the premise of teaching young minds.”

“Indeed?” Harry’s eyebrows rose, his expression unreadable. “It’s a rather quiet place for one so capable and evidently well-educated. Ah—and certainly you know the Wilton’s, then?”

The question hung in the air, and Josephine felt the weight of all eyes on her. She could see Eleanor and Beatrice glance between her and their brother, their innocent curiosity mirroring his sharper inquiry. The duchess’s expression remained composed, but there was a flicker of interest in her gaze. Even the duke paused his cutting of his lamb to listen.

“I wanted a change of scenery,” Josephine said carefully. “Ashbourne seemed like the perfect place for respite and reflection after… personal difficulties.” She swallowed, feeling the way that her blood sped through her veins beat after beat, “A-And I’m quite afraid I am not familiar with the Wilton’s, no.”

“Difficulties?” Harry pressed, his voice light but with an undercurrent of something keener. “How intriguing. One rarely hears of governesses with mysterious pasts.”

Josephine’s breath caught; the feeling of her corset was almost more unbearable than usual. She knew this game; it was the type played by men who were too clever for their own good. She straightened slightly, meeting his gaze with as much calm as she could muster.

“Everyone has their struggles, my lord” she said evenly. “Ashbourne offered a quiet place to begin anew.”

Harry studied her, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “Anew?”

She realized her mistake as soon as the word left her lips. Harry caught it too.

“Surrey,” she answered swiftly, too swiftly. “Surrey is where I originate. My—my family, they reign from Surrey. I apologize for the confusion.”

“Surrey?” he repeated, tilting his head. “Not Ashbourne, then? How curious that someone who speaks of a quiet life would have left Surrey, only to begin again in Ashbourne. They are quite far apart, you know,” He laughed dryly, “Of course you would know that.”

Josephine’s pulse quickened. She could feel the attention of the entire table sharpening, though the children remained blissfully unaware of the tension building. She hesitated, knowing that anything she said now could deepen his suspicion. As if he had a reason to be digging at all—she knew her truth on why she had fled Surrey for Ashbourne, but her past wouldn’t have been brought to discussion. Not here, anyways.

“There are times when circumstances necessitate leaving one place for another,” she said, forcing herself to maintain a serene expression. “I hope that satisfies your curiosity, my lord.”

Harry smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “For now, Miss Dowding.”

The duchess cleared her throat delicately, her gaze flicking between the two of them. “Harry, perhaps you might allow Miss Dowding to enjoy her meal in peace. It isn’t polite to interrogate our guests.”

“Of course, mother,” Harry replied smoothly, raising his glass in a gesture of apology. “My apologies, Miss Dowding. My curiosity often gets the better of me, I’m sure you’ll learn.”

Josephine inclined her head, though her heart still raced. “No apology will be necessary, my lord.” Her nods were kept short, “You have every reason to question guests in your home.”

The rest of the meal passed in strained silence, at least for Josephine. Eleanor and Beatrice continued to chatter happily, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. The duke and duchess returned to their conversation regarding the social season that had been fast approaching which would involve multiple strenuous affairs to and from London, though Josephine noticed the occasional glance the duchess sent her way.

It was quite meaningful to her—to see that the duchess seemed to send her glances.

As dessert was served, Beatrice leaned across the table, her voice conspiratorial. “And Harry, are you staying for Christmas this year?”

Harry hesitated, his fork pausing midair. He glanced at the duchess, whose expression remained composed but watchful as she seemed to let the marquess take the lead on the question.

“We shall see, little one.” he said at last, his tone gentle but noncommittal—it was to be expected. Beatrice frowned but didn’t press the matter. “A bit far off, but I do intend to try.”

Josephine, observing the exchange, felt a pang of sympathy. She wondered what kept him so unfocused and able to stay in a place long enough to feel committed, unable to remain. Perhaps Miss Ellory’s words about the scars of war were truer than she had realized; she was glad to have the insight amongst them, but she knew that letting in this bias may have been leading her to have unkind thoughts of the marquess.

As supper had ended, dessert had been moved away. The candles that sat in the middle of the table had started to flicker when the duke stood from his seat, “I suggest we move our conversation into the sitting room, what do we think?”

“I believe that’s a fine idea,” Harry nodded, taking the napkin that had been held in his lap and placing it next to his plate. The men stood first, allowing the women to follow in their lead.

“Josephine, dear, you must be exhausted with your travels.” The duchess asked, taking the girl’s arm to wrap around her own as they made their way towards the sitting area.

A swift nod and a deep breath seemed to settle Josephine as she agreed with the duchess, “Very,” She shook her head, “But I am having a lovely time learning and speaking with yourself and your family. I am very eager to start working with the girls. And the duke and you could not be more welcoming to me.”

 The duchess held onto her hand as they found themselves in the darkened room, lit for the evening affair of after supper. “It’s our pleasure. We want the best for our girls, and you continue to prove why you have been chosen for this. We are highly impressed with your professionalism.”

“Impressed indeed.” The duke added in; he had poured himself and the lord a scotch, both holding the small glasses. “Would either of you like an after-dinner tea? We can put some in the kettle at once.”  

Josephine shook her head, “I would hate to reject your offer; however, I do believe that I am alright now. I would love to enjoy the fire a bit—it is such a beautiful addition this time of year.”

Harry had been standing next to the fire, leaning against the mantel before he turned to see Josephine make her way towards him—making his heart beat in a way that sent him taking a few steps backwards.

The room was warm and inviting, with a fire crackling in the hearth and walls lined with shelves of well-worn books. Plush chairs and sofas were arranged in conversational clusters, and a tea tray had already been placed on the low table in the center of the room. The duke and duchess settled into the armchairs nearest the fire, engaging in quiet conversation, while Eleanor and Beatrice gravitated toward Josephine, who had taken a seat on the ground next to the fire.

"Miss Josephine," Beatrice called brightly, tugging on her hand as she took a seat next to her. "You promised me a riddle, remember?" Eleanor chimed in, holding her book of Roman history which she hadn’t yet to set down except when at the table. "And perhaps we can discuss Caesar again? I was reading about his triumphs, and I had some questions."

Josephine chuckled, allowing herself to relax slightly under their enthusiasm. She glanced over at the duke and duchess, who both gave her approving smiles. Lord Styles, however, stood near the hearth, his hand resting casually in his pocket, observing the scene with quiet curiosity as he took a sip of the poured scotch.

"All right," Josephine said, smiling at Beatrice. "Here’s a riddle for you both: What has to be broken before you can use it?"

Beatrice furrowed her brow at the inquiry, biting her lip in concentration. Eleanor crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful.

"Oh, I know! An egg!" Beatrice exclaimed after a moment, her face lighting up with triumph.

"Very good, you’re quite a thoughtful one, aren’t you?" Josephine said, clapping lightly. "Now, Eleanor, what was your question about Caesar?"

Eleanor settled in front of her, opening her book to a marked page. "I read about the triumphal processions he held when he returned to Rome, but weren’t they seen as boastful? Didn’t some of the senators dislike him for it?"

"Indeed, they did," Josephine replied, her voice taking on the calm, measured tone she used during lessons. "The senators had feared Caesar’s growing influence around, especially among the common people. He was quite charming in a way—he really had a way with getting what he wanted. The triumphs were a way for him to display his power, but they also heightened the tension between him and the Senate."

Eleanor nodded in understanding; her expression serious. "So, it wasn’t just about celebration. It was politics, too."

"Exactly, Lady Eleanor," Josephine said. "This is a lesson worth remembering: what seems like celebration on the surface often has deeper motives underneath."

Lord Styles, who had been leaning casually against the mantel, straightened slightly. "Wise words, Miss Dowding," he said, his tone light but with an undertone of something deeper. "It seems you’ve made quite the impression on my sisters."

Miss Dowding turned toward him, startled by his sudden interjection. She maintained her composure, offering a polite smile. "Lady Eleanor and Lady Beatrice are both eager learners, my lord. It’s a pleasure to guide them."

Beatrice grinned up at her. "Miss Dowding knows everything, Harry. Even riddles! Do you want to hear another?"

Harry chuckled, moving to sit in the chair opposite them. "Why not? Impress me, Beatrice."

Beatrice glanced at Miss Dowding, who leaned over towards Beatrice before making sure to whisper the riddle in her ear to repeat to her brother. "Okay, Harry. What has hands but can’t clap?"

Harry tilted his head, his lips curling into a smirk as he knew the answer immediately. "A clock."

Beatrice pouted at his quick judgement, a whine leaving her lips, "That was too easy."

"You’ll have to try harder if you want to stump me," he teased, leaning back in his chair. Josephine watched as his hand—particularly his thumb print moved the condensation of the glass. His gaze shifted briefly to Miss Dowding as he recognized her stare; his expression unreadable, but she would have sworn that she saw a twinkle in his eye.

Josephine looked away quite quickly.

Eleanor, oblivious to the tension in the room, tapped Miss Dowding’s arm. "Miss Dowding, can we read more about Caesar tomorrow? I want to understand why people followed him, even when it seemed dangerous."

"Of course, Lady Eleanor," Miss Dowding said gently to the young girl, "We’ll explore his leadership and how he inspired loyalty. Anything that you’d like."

The duke cleared his throat from his chair near the fire, drawing the room’s attention. "It is clear Miss Dowding has a firm hand with her charges," he said approvingly. "We’re fortunate to have her."

The duchess nodded in agreement, though her eyes flicked to her son. "Indeed. It takes great skill to balance discipline with encouragement."

Lord Styles didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied Miss Dowding for a long moment before speaking. "It would seem, Miss Dowding, that you’ve brought a sense of calm and purpose to this household. It’s not a simple task; I can assure you."

Josephine felt the weight of his words, though she kept her expression neutral. "Thank you, my Lord. I do my best to fulfill my duties as instructed and not stray away from what I’m told."

For a moment, their gazes held, and Josephine felt an uneasy prickle along her spine. His praise felt genuine, but there was something in his tone—something that hinted at suspicion, as though he were still trying to piece together who she truly was.

Beatrice, oblivious to the undercurrents, climbed onto Miss Dowding’s lap and declared, "Miss Dowding, you should tell Harry a riddle he can’t solve!"

"Perhaps tomorrow," the duchess interjected with a smile, rising gracefully from her chair. "It’s been a long day for all of us. Girls, why don’t you show Miss Dowding how you get ready for sleep, hm? Perhaps she would be interested in our routine.”

Josephine took a breath as she stood from her seated position on the wooden floor, using her hands to wipe down at her skirt before holding the waist of her dress, adjusting accordingly before letting the girl’s take her hand to lead towards their room.

“I shall also retire to my room,” Josephine nodded a few times at the nobles, “It’s been a pleasure already. Thank you for dinner, your graces,” She turned towards Harry then, his eyes fixated on her as she bowed her head at him, “My lord.”

As Josephine guided the girls back to the nursery, she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. Lord Styles still sat by the fireplace, his gaze fixed on her, his expression thoughtful as he tried his best to place his mind on how to get more from her.

Josephine quickened her pace as she felt the tug of the girls’ hands, leading her up the stairs and towards another challenge all together.

---

Once the girls had been tucked away into their bed, Josephine had wished them a great sleep. She had taken it upon herself to put the girls to bed, before making it out into the hall where she would have to make her way down to her own quarters.

The corridors of Northumberland Hall were quiet, save for the occasional creak of ancient wood or the distant whisper of the wind against the stone walls which had started to pick up outside. She noticed the way that the walls start to feel eerie with frigidness. Josephine carried the lamp as she walked back toward her quarters after ensuring the girls were settled for the night. The soft glow illuminated her path, but the stillness of the late hour made every sound seem amplified.

It hadn’t occurred to her that there was still a conversation happening below her. As she neared the grand staircase of which they had walked up only an hour prior, faint voices carried upward from the hall below. She paused, recognizing the deep timbre of the duke’s voice, measured but firm, and another voice—Lord Styles’—sharp with irritation. Both tones of their voices she had yet to hear.

“I’ve just returned from fighting for this country,” Harry’s voice echoed, rising above his father’s steadier tone. “And you would have me march straight into another battle at the altar?”

Josephine froze at the corner of the corridor, her pulse quickening at his words. She shouldn’t linger, but her feet refused to move. The raw emotion in his words held her captive; she knew that this was spying, being completely too observant of their personal ventures, which she knew she shouldn’t hear. It wasn’t meant for her.

“This is not a battle, Harry,” The duke replied, his tone calmer now but insistent. “It is your duty. The family requires stability. An alliance with the Barrenton’s would secure that.”

Harry’s laugh was bitter, reverberating off the cold stone walls. “Stability? As if we do not have stability in this castle that we call our homestead. I believe that you mean more wealth. More influence. Am I correct in saying that? Tell me, Father, what would I be to Lady Barrenton? A husband or just another pawn in your ambitions to gain further notoriety?”

The duchess’s voice is heard then in interjection, softer but no less resolute. “This is not about ambition, Harry. It’s responsibility. You know what is expected of you—the eldest son, the only son.”

“Expected of me?” Harry’s voice cracked slightly using those words, his frustration cutting through the air. “Expected of me was to die on the battlefield, wasn’t it? And now that I’ve defied those odds. I am back here, I am standing on two feet, and you wish to bind me to a life I will no longer recognize! What if I do not want that?”

Josephine’s grip on the candleholder tightened. For all his arrogance, there was pain in his voice—a weariness she recognized too well. She had heard that same tone in her own voice once, in moments when the weight of expectation had crushed her spirit.

What if she didn’t want that? It was a thought she had all too often.

The duke’s voice turned colder, sharper. “You will not speak to your mother that way. This conversation is not a request, Harry. It is a duty.”

There was a long silence, and Josephine could almost feel the tension vibrating up the walls, even though they were out of sight.

“It is not lost on me why I have removed myself from this—this place. I do not wish to marry, and that will be final. I do not wish to tie myself to wed so that I can be sent to war and bleed out in a large field and my wife will have to tend to my death bearing my children—I will not see to it, and you shall not force me to make such a decision as brutal and heavy-hearted.” Harry said finally, his voice low but edged with defiance.

Heavy footsteps followed, and Josephine’s breath hitched as she realized they were moving toward the staircase. She extinguished her lamp and pressed herself into the shadows along the walls of the corridor at once. Her heart began racing as Harry’s figure came into view; his expression was a storm of emotion—anger, frustration, and something deeper, more vulnerable, that lingered in the downturn of his mouth and the flicker of his eyes.

For a moment, she thought he might look up and see her, but he didn’t. He strode past the staircase, disappearing into the darker corridors of the west wing. Only when his footsteps faded entirely did she release the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Josephine stood rooted to the spot, the echoes of his words replaying in her mind. She knew she shouldn’t have stayed to listen—their private conversation had given her bias to a situation she clearly knew nothing about. It wasn’t her place to eavesdrop on the affairs of the family, and yet... she couldn’t ignore the pull she felt in it.

Beneath his defiance, there was a wounded soul struggling to reconcile the man he was expected to be with the one he had become. She understood that conflict all too well. He had been trying to flee from a person he once was, back to someone that he had been before. The only issue was who you were before would never be again.

Shaking herself free of the moment, she turned back toward her quarters, her thoughts restless then. As she climbed the stairs to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder why Harry’s pain had struck a chord within her. She had left behind her own life of battles, but in his words, she heard the echoes of a war she had not fully escaped.

When she finally reached her room and closed the door behind her, the quiet had enveloped her like a heavy cloak. Setting her extinguished lamp on the bedside table, she sat on the edge of the bed, her mind still tangled with what she had heard. She went to reignite the light, letting it be the only glimpse of reality within the darkness of the small room.

Lord Styles was a man of contradictions—arrogant yet vulnerable, defiant yet bound by duty. She had glimpsed the cracks in his armor tonight, and though she didn’t understand why, it unsettled her deeply.

As the night had become quiet with ease, Josephine sat on her bed, against the pillow she had been given as she let the flicker of the lamp trickle over the pages in the novel between her fingers. The memory of his piercing green eyes still vivid in her mind as he questioned her at the table.

The castle seemed unnaturally quiet, the faint creaks and groans of its old timbers amplified by the stillness, the gusty winds outside had troubled her thoughts. She told herself it was her imagination when she heard the softest sound—footsteps, perhaps? —in the hallway outside her door. Her breath held as she watched the door.

She froze, her hand hovering over the lamp on her bedside table. Was it just the castle settling, or was someone there? For a moment, she imagined opening the door to find Lord Styles standing on the other side, his gaze as intense and unrelenting as it had been at supper.

She wondered if he would stand there and question her as he had tonight.

Shaking her head, she scolded herself for such thoughts. He would have no reason to come here, she told herself. Still, the sound of the footsteps lingered in her mind as she lay back on the narrow bed, her heart racing precociously.

As the wind howled outside, Josephine stared at the dark ceiling, wondering if the storm within the castle walls would prove far more dangerous than the one raging beyond them. It was thoughts such as that that had led her into a dream.

---

The morning sun was just beginning to filter through the heavy drapes of Josephine’s small chamber as she fastened the final button of her gown. Her bedroom faced the east, knowing that she was getting the early trickling of the beginning of the daylight. The fabric was simple but neat, a reflection of her practical nature and modesty. The dress she had chosen had long sleeves; blue and white flowers moved across the print in a delicate fashion.

She tied her apron snugly around her waist, smoothing the creases as she took a steadying breath. The mirror in front of her helped to highlight her tousled hair, which she easily pinned back to tuck it behind her ears. The quiet hum of the household awakening reached her—footsteps echoing faintly in the corridors, the clink of crockery and stationery from the kitchens below.

Another day had begun. It had felt as if she had been there for ages. Her journal details would conclude that this was her twentieth day at Northumberland—it had been a journey thus far, and she had woken up every day with a new perspective on the ever-changing ways that children learned, and what they had taught her. It had given her a way to think about dynamics, let her see the world for what it was.

Eleanor and Beatrice were just children—two young girls in a world that would always love them and care for them; money would never be an issue, but their hopes and dreams may come to a halt once they recognized their role in society. It was to please, to gather a new life for their own families as they would be put to society for all of judgement.

It made Josephine quite sick to imagine a mind such as Eleanor’s to become nothing more than what had been expected of her. Beatrice, still young, was approaching these conversations too—she kept up with their banter, their confrontations over literary tales and blunders. It took everything in Josephine not to think about what society was for these young girls and why she felt the need to give them a world that she never had the opportunity for.

The world that she had to run from. She didn’t want them to feel the need to run. And, if they did, she wanted to teach them to run faster—stealthier, quicker.

As she had been getting her items ready for the day, she had heard a small knock on the wooden door. Josephine opened her door to find Miss Ellory waiting in the corridor with a small tray. The housekeeper’s sharp eyes softened as she handed it over, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm toast rising in the air as Josephine too the small tray from her grasps.

“Good morning, Miss Dowding,” Miss Ellory said, her voice brisk but not unkind. “I trust you slept well?”

“I did, thank you,” Josephine replied, taking the tray and setting it on the small table over by her window. “It seems the household is particularly lively this morning—I see that there’s quite a bit of movement.” Josephine referenced the movement that was happening outside of her window, even though she could feel the cold drift from the glass.

Miss Ellory gave a knowing smile. “Lord Styles has a habit of unsettling the usual order of things. He’s taken to rising early this week, which, as you might imagine, keeps the staff on their toes with his demands and necessities.”

Josephine’s lips twitched into a faint smile as she poured herself a cup of tea from the small teapot that Ellory had brought. “I will keep that in mind should our paths cross today.”

Miss Ellory hesitated, her gaze turning slightly more serious. “You’ve done well with the girls these past weeks. Lady Eleanor’s progress in her studies has not gone unnoticed, and even Lady Beatrice seems to have taken a liking to your methods.”

Josephine inclined her head modestly. “The girls are eager learners. It makes my work all the more rewarding,” She finds herself smiling at the thought of the youngest, a quick laugh following, “However, Miss Beatrice is quite a handful, isn’t she?”

Ellory shakes her head with the same enlightened smile, “She is quite mischievous, yes. However, I think the duchess is quite taken with you—the whole family is. You have done an excellent job. But do be cautious, Miss Josephine. You’ve a steady hand and a sensible mind, but there are always... distractions in a household such as this. Keep your focus where it belongs.”

Josephine met the housekeeper’s gaze, a bit of misunderstanding in the unspoken warning. “Of course, Miss Ellory. My sole priority is the education and well-being of Lady Eleanor and Lady Beatrice.”

 The sense of concern started to cross onto her facial features as she turned to face Ellory for a moment, wondering why she had brought up such a concern before she spoke again.

“Was something mentioned about my focus? A distraction, perhaps? I can assure—”

“Miss Josephine, there truly is no concern,” Ellory says quickly, trying to pull her back to focus on her praise rather than the mere, undeniable concern that had started to bubble at the surface of the manor gossip. Ellory had wanted to mention it to Josephine as soon as she had the inclination, knowing that the young girl was impressionable, and new to the environment.

They stood for a moment before Ellory wiped her hands on her apron before she cleared her throat. “I—it is not a concern per se—”

Josephine breathed in, “Please tell me at once.”

“It is just that—” Ellory huffed; her lips feeling dry in the cool, late November air. “It is just that many of the service believe that many may be noticing the way that you are the distraction itself.”

Josephine blinked a few moments before shaking her head at the continuation of confusion that she felt at the words Ellory spoke. Her eyes darted between the older woman’s; they were kind, showing her an affection that she trusted. “I don’t believe that I understand.”

Ellory pursed her lips as she walked closer, trying to make Josephine settle before she spoke too loudly and would be overheard by anyone else that may be in the halls of the manor.

Ellory’s gaze softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. “This is not just about you; I can assure you. But it is about Lord Styles. Since his arrival, he’s been... quite distracted. And more than one member of the service has noticed his attentions seem to be fixed in your direction.”

Josephine’s breath caught, and she shook her head at the complete and utter foolery that had left Ellory’s mouth. “I can—will assure you, Miss Ellory, I have done nothing to encourage him.”

“I believe you,” Miss Ellory said, letting her hands reach to hold onto Josephine’s arms in a comforting manner, letting her know that she was believed, “But intentions matter little when gossip takes root. The maids have whispered about how often he lingers near the schoolroom. The footmen joke about his frequent detours through the gardens when you’re walking with the girls. Even the butler remarked on how he seems to find excuses to pass the corridors by wherever you happen to be.”

Josephine’s cheeks burned, a mix of anger and mortification coursing through her at the idea that she had caused such a disruption without knowing the mere intention, “I cannot control where Lord Styles chooses to be—I-I cannot understand how this has happened, or how these preposterous rumors have begun.”

“No, you cannot,” Miss Ellory agreed, her voice gentler now. “But you can control how you conduct yourself. I’m telling you this not as a reprimand but as a warning. You are a governess, and while the family respects your work a tremendous amount, you must tread carefully. Appearances matter in a household such as this. A governess would never end up with a marquess.”

Josephine’s hands tightened around the edges of her apron at the woman’s words, feeling the weight of them when she starts to nod in a deep certainty. “I understand, Miss Ellory. But what am I to do? Avoid him entirely? How am I to do so when I was not even aware of his presence?”

Miss Ellory’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That may be difficult given the current circumstances, but you must remain vigilant. Keep your interactions with him formal and brief. Do not allow yourself to be drawn into any personal conversations, no matter how innocuous they may seem. As I mentioned, the services will be watching, and they will talk.”

Josephine nodded, though her mind churned with unease as she tried to understand it all herself. She didn’t want to throw away everything that she had built, the relationships that she had started to concrete. “Have... Have the duke and duchess heard these rumors?”

She could see that Ellory hesitated before answering, shaking her head, but allowing Josephine to not have any hope that they would not, “Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time if things continue as they are. And that is why I am speaking to you now. You have worked hard to build your position here, Miss Dowding. Do not let something beyond your control jeopardize that, do you understand?”

Josephine’s chest tightened just at the thought of her fleeing the manor for a new life once again. She had escaped one life of peril only to find herself walking a tightrope in this new one. The idea that her every move could be scrutinized, misinterpreted, or twisted into scandal made her feel ill instantly.

“Thank you for telling me,” Josephine stated quietly, trying to encourage the continued hush of their conversation, “I will do my utmost to ensure there is no cause for further gossip.”

The housekeeper gave a curt nod. “Good. You’re a sensible woman, Miss Dowding. I trust you’ll take the appropriate steps—we would hate to lose you.”

Ellory squeezed on Josephine’s arms for a quick show of her affection, giving her a tight smile. It had been warm, something that Josephine had looked for, for quite some time.

As Ellory turned to leave, Josephine lingered in her bedroom for a solid few moments, her thoughts spinning at the recent news development. She had been so careful, so determined to keep her head down and do her work. And yet, the attention of one man threatened to unravel everything she had worked for—everything she had run from was starting to catch up with her.

 She thought of Lord Styles—his intensity, his lingering stares, the way he seemed to look at her as though she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. She needed to stay tight-lipped, brief.

She would have to be more cautious, more distant. Whatever curiosity Lord Styles held toward her; she could not afford to indulge it. Not when her very livelihood was at stake. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and made her way back toward the schoolroom, determined to keep her focus where it belonged.

Josephine finished her tea and toast quickly, the exchange with Miss Ellory lingering in her thoughts as she made her way to the schoolroom. The housekeeper’s caution was not unfounded, as it turned out. Lord Styles had an undeniable presence, one that seemed to ripple through the household even when he wasn’t present. Everyone whispered, everyone wanted to know every detail of him. Josephine resolved, once again, to keep her distance and focus on her duties.

By the time she arrived into the room, Eleanor and Beatrice were already seated at their desks, chatting animatedly about their dreams—how Eleanor was swinging high above the trees, looking down on the ocean below her. She couldn’t understand how the tree ended up in the middle of the ocean but had been fascinated by the view; she had wished to see the sea again. Eleanor’s Latin book lay open before her, while Beatrice doodled in the margins of her notebook with pictures of small animals. The sight of them brought a small, genuine smile to Josephine’s face as she had started to truly love beginning her days with their curiosity.

“Good morning, ladies,” she greeted, her tone warm, filled with a passion. “Are we ready to begin?”

The schoolroom was quiet besides their small voices when Josephine entered, the faint morning sun spilling through the tall windows and warming the wooden desks that were cherry oak with hints of red pining through them.

“Good morning, Miss Dowding,” Eleanor replied brightly. “I had just told Beatrice about the poem we’re going to study today.”

Beatrice groaned dramatically; a roll of her eyes followed. “Poetry is so dull. Can’t we do riddles instead?”

Josephine chuckled softly as she set down her materials that she had been carrying through the halls. “I think you’ll find today’s poem quite engaging, Lady Beatrice. We’ll be reading William Cowper—his works are full of vivid imagery and profound ideas that must interest you. Now, let’s begin, shall we?’

Eleanor eagerly opened her book to the marked page, while Beatrice sighed but followed suit with her sister’s guidance. Josephine began to explain the context of the poem, her calm and steady voice filling the room. The girls were attentive to the material and Josephine’s effervescence, even Beatrice showing a grudging interest as they discussed the themes of faith and resilience that Cowper inevitably showed.

At the sound of the door creaking open, breaking the flow of the lesson. Josephine’s eyes had looked up, startled to see Lord Styles leaning casually against the doorframe. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his emerald-green eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed the small room that had been converted for the learning environment—it was as if Josephine had merely designed for the three of them, but it worked with the lesson materials and capabilities.

After the discussion that Josephine had with Ellory this morning, her heart started to beat at a faster rate as she made herself more prominent, standing straight up in acknowledgement of the marquess.

“Good morning, my Lord,” Josephine said evenly, her fingers grasping the book in her hands tighter. “Is there something I can assist you with?”

“Not at all,” Harry replied, his voice a buttery smooth cadence. “I was merely passing by and thought I might observe for a moment, as I believe I have mentioned wanting to prior. I’ve heard much about your lessons from my sisters, and I thought I should take a listen for myself.”

Josephine nodded, though her shoulders stiffened at the thought of him joining their morning ritual. “Yes, very well. You are welcome to stay, of course.” She blinked a few times, running her tongue over her lips softly before trying her best to come back to the conversation regarding faith.

He stepped further into the room, his gaze drifting to the chalkboard where Cowper’s words were written in neat script. His hands were held behind his back as he made his way into the room; the soft leather of his boots had traced across the wooden floors in a shuffle. “Ah, Cowper, I see. A quite lofty choice for young minds, don’t you think?”

Eleanor, bristling slightly at his words, spoke up. “We can understand it perfectly well, Harry. Miss Dowding explains things wonderfully, and I think you will see that if you would let her speak.”

Harry grinned at her, ruffling her hair as he passed by. “I don’t doubt it, Ellie.” His attention shifted back to Josephine, his tone light yet teasing. “Miss Dowding,” he said, “you are far too quiet for someone entrusted with shaping the minds of my sisters. Surely there’s more fire in you than you let on?”

Josephine’s eyes met his, her expression carefully neutral. “Fire, my Lord, is not always the best tool for instruction, you see. Patience and discipline tend to yield better results, I find.”

He found himself watching her more often than he cared to admit. She carried herself with a quiet dignity, her head held high despite her modesty in their manor. There was a resilience about her that intrigued him, a strength he couldn’t quite place. He’d met plenty of women who were bold and spirited—quite spirited, yes, but Miss Dowding’s strength was odd to him. It wasn’t loud or attention-seeking; it was steady, unyielding, like the roots of an ancient oak tree that had prospered for hundreds of years.

It annoyed him, if he were honest. She was a puzzle he couldn’t solve, and he had always hated being bested. But it also fascinated him. He wanted to know what lay beneath her composed exterior, what thoughts and fears she kept hidden behind those guarded eyes.

Those ridiculously shielded, enticing, rather beguiled, gray and guarded eyes she had. And the hair—it was such a natural curl of waves that flowed down her back, tucked gently behind her ears. The sight of her collarbones reveled his desire, pulsing a tight-lipped stare for less than a second, catching a glimpse. Surely, he hadn’t expected her to shine in the light of the early morning sun as she had, but he wouldn’t lie if asked if he enjoyed it.

Certainly, yes.

His lips curved into a slow smile as he found himself biting the inside of his cheek at her carefully articulate answer. “And do you apply that same philosophy to all aspects of your life?”

Before Josephine could respond, Eleanor interjected. “Harry, stop teasing her. She’s an excellent teacher.”

Josephine’s heart skipped a beat at the way she responded. Eleanor was quite outspoken, which gave Josephine the hope she had been pursuing with taking this role. It gave her confidence to know that the young minds were not being undermined.

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender at the young girl’s attempt to continue their lesson. “My apologies, Ellie. No offense intended, of course.” Yet his gaze lingered on Josephine, a challenge sparking in his eyes.

It gave Josephine permission to then return to the lesson, Josephine directed Eleanor to read aloud the next stanza of the poem, as they had been going line by line to interrupt each word in its placement. She refused to let Harry’s presence distract her, though she was acutely aware of his movements as he strolled around the room, glancing at Beatrice’s notebook and inspecting the titles on the bookshelf.

“Quite the artist, aren’t you, Bea?” he said, noting the squirrel she had sketched in the margins on the paper.

Beatrice grinned at the small drawing, almost blushing as she went to cover it up. “Miss Dowding says I have a vivid imagination.”

“That, she does,” Josephine replied, agreeing with the young girl. Her tone softening as she glanced at the younger girl with a knowing look. “But we’re working on channeling that imagination into more structured pursuits, aren’t we?”

“It is a task I do not envy,” Harry quipped, though his expression softened as he looked at his sisters. “I trust that you will make sure that structure is in place, but,” He shrugs almost, “There is always room for imagination and creativity, as well, yes?”

Josephine took in a deep breath, nodding a few times, “Of course. I believe that imagination and imagery are always at the forefront of our minds. Reality is dull without the thought of something greater.”

The twinkle in his eyes made her eyes divert; she knew that she should have been consistent with staying forward, not diving further into conversation with the Lord, as she had promised Ellory.

As the lesson concluded, Eleanor and Beatrice bounded out of the room, eager to explore the gardens before tea would be served. Harry lingered, his gaze following Josephine as she tidied the desks around them.

“You handle them well,” he remarked, his tone more thoughtful now.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she replied without looking up. “They are delightful girls, and I am proud that they are utilizing their knowledge outside of this classroom to ensure logical and articulate discussions.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly. “You are quite an enigma, Miss Dowding. Most women in your position would be eager to curry favor. But you…” He trailed his voice, picking up a book that had been laying on the desk that she used as her own, looking at the title before moving closer to her presence, “You seem determined to keep your distance. Why is that?”

Josephine straightened her spine, meeting his gaze with quiet resolve. “I am here to teach, my lord. Nothing more.”

“Ah, but teaching is such an intimate act, isn’t it? Shaping young minds, influencing their futures. Surely that requires more than mere detachment. Possibly involving personal atonement, anecdotes of your own life that can be based in teachings.”

Her lips tightened. “My role in this manor requires focus, discipline, and professionalism. Which is precisely what I provide. My own successes and failures should not be involved in their learning, and that is by my own doing. We are all individual, after all. My influence would not be deemed professional.”

Harry found himself taken aback by her response; mostly since he enjoyed the way that she spoke so fluently and without stutter, almost like she knew exactly what he would say next. The wit outsmarted him numerous times. She had been so educated and delightfully conversational that he found himself troubled with the idea that she was challenging; in a way that intrigued him to a fault.

He flipped through the book that he held in his palms as he watched her start to tidy up the small schoolroom. “Do you never tire of maintaining such perfect decorum? Surely there’s a rebellious streak in you somewhere that you will not allow to be seen.”

She looked up at him, breathing outwards at his continuous questioning that almost bored her. “My lord, I find that rebellion often leads to unnecessary complications. I prefer to avoid such things.”

“How dreadfully dull,” he replied, though his tone was more amused than mocking; it was then that she noticed the dimple that cratered in his cheek that her eyes had drawn to. Seeing the warmth of his bright smile had transfixed her to a new level of curiosity and allure. “Perhaps I’ll have to be the one to coax it out of you.”

“I would advise against that, my Lord,” she said evenly, almost like she had been instructed to do so. “It would be a waste of your time.”

Harry’s smile widened, but he said nothing more, then staring at the book in his palm. As he walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Miss Dowding was far more than she seemed. And for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he found himself wanting to uncover every one of her secrets. It was a game.

There was a moment of silence, then. Harry studied her for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. He had taken a deep breath, letting his hands fall behind his back as he nodded at her with certainty.

Then he smiled, softer this time. “Very well, Miss Dowding. I will not press you further today,” He licked his lips, “I have enjoyed this, however, and I thank you for allowing me to attend in the lesson.”

Josephine took the books that had been sitting on her desk, noticing that he had one in his hands; it had been her copy of Moll Flanders. She was not sure that he had recognized that he had walked away with it, but when she noticed the way that his fingers gripped around the leather binding, she knew that he knew. He turned to leave, glancing back over his shoulder before he walked through the doorframe.

“I must admit, I’m curious to see how long you can maintain this stoic façade,” The look that he wore almost took Josephine’s breath away, “The relentlessness will be tiring, I assure you.”

Josephine waited until his footsteps faded before exhaling a breath, she hadn’t realized she was holding. She returned to her work then, her hands trembling slightly as she arranged the books on the shelf to put away from the lesson that day.

In many ways, Lord Styles was a dangerous man—not because of his title or charm, but because he seemed determined to see through the walls, she had built around herself.

And that, she realized with a sinking feeling, was a battle she wasn’t sure she could win on her own.

---

The bustle of the manor had been quite lacking through the day as Lord Styles strode down the corridor leading from the schoolroom, his thoughts lingering on the peculiar Miss Dowding. As they had the past few days, indeed. She had handled his teasing with a remarkable composure that he found completely and utterly unsettling. Most of the women he encountered would have become too flustered under his scrutiny, eager to please or to curry favor as he had questioned with her.

Not Miss Dowding.

Her responses had been measured, deliberate, and tinged with a quiet defiance that intrigued him more than he cared to admit. It almost felt directly to the chest how intrigued he had become with her composure and assurance to making her duty fulfilled.

The shuffle of his boots had clunked against the hard flooring, taking him by the drawing room, his mother, the duchess, was seated by the fire, her embroidery hoop in hand as she had a dark purple string lacing into the fabric. She glanced up as he entered, her expression softening with maternal affection by his furrowed brow.

“Harry,” she greeted. “You look as though you have something quite preposterous on the mind. Would you care to explain further?”

He smirked at her acknowledgement, pouring himself a glass of wine from the sideboard table. “Something like that, I assume. I’ve just come from the schoolroom, actually.”

Her eyebrows lifted delicately at his admission to his whereabouts. She wouldn’t comment further but would inquire his reasoning for walking into the lesson. “The schoolroom? And what took you there?”

“Intrigue, I suppose,” he admitted, taking a seat across from her. “I wanted to see how Miss Dowding was faring with Eleanor and Beatrice. They seem very fond of her, which, in return, sends me to be more curious, as well.”

The duchess’ hands paused over her stitching, eyes trained on her hands as she tried to keep her smile down, “And what are your thoughts on her?”

Harry swirled his wine in the rounded glass, considering his words as he stared at the maroon-colored liquid, taking a sharp breath. “She’s… capable. Steady-handed. The girls are lucky to have her.”

The duchess’ lips curved into a small, knowing smile as if she could have told the entire story with just the smirk alone. “That is quite high praise from you, Harry. You don’t often comment on the household staff, you know. Unless it is quite horrific.”

“She is hardly ordinary staff, mother,” he replied quickly, his tone lingering with a bit of edge to it, as if accusatory. “She’s educating my sisters and doing so effectively, as is her duty to us as to their education. It’s worth noting for the sake of Eleanor and Bea.”

His mother’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, her smile deepening at his reasoning, but seeing that there had been a much larger reason for his curiosity. A mother had always known. “Indeed. It seems Miss Dowding has made quite an impression on us all, and I am quite thankful that we had received her letter.”

Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing, unwilling to engage further in the conversation regarding Miss Dowding. However, he would have if he had been taunted to; something about the woman made him want to engage in conversation. He leaned back in his chair, facing in his mother as she sat with her embroidery, the faint sound of approaching footsteps drawing his attention. The duke entered the room, his presence commanding as always. The duchess set her embroidery aside at his entrance, and Harry’s posture stiffened slightly, sensing the shift in mood.

“Harry,” the duke said, his voice calm but firm. “We need to speak at once.”

“Is this about the accounts again?” Harry asked, feigning nonchalance, eyes lifting to look at his father before shrugging. “I assure you that everything is in order, and we have certainty to believe that—”

His father cut him off, holding out letters in his hands.

“No, this is about you,” the duke replied, taking a seat beside his wife. “We’ve heard troubling reports from London, and I am quite horrified by the accounts that I am reading.”

Harry’s jaw tightened, but he kept his expression neutral, eyebrows furrowing at his remarks. “Troubling?” He felt a laugh come from him that was completely humorless and mockery. “Do elaborate.”

“There have been rumors, Harry. About your behavior. Adultery, gambling, neglecting your duties at the manor in London, which you have—in good faith—promised your mother and I that you have been tending to. It’s unbecoming of someone in your position, and there will be no stance for this.”

The duke threw the letters on the table in front of them; a stack of white mail had shuffled across the wood table. Harry’s eyes darting to them at once before he found himself with a smile, sharp and humorless. “Rumors are a pastime in London, father. Surely, you’re not giving them undue weight?”

“When they reflect poorly on this family, we must take them seriously,” the duke said, his tone clipped in anger as he looked at his son, “You are the sole heir to Northumberland. Your actions matter. Your behavior matters, and we will not stand for this.”

“My actions are my own,” Harry replied to him, his voice hardening as he sat up in the chair at the accusations that were being thrown at him. “I’ve fought for this damned country, sacrificed for it. You believe that I would tarnish our name in the name of sin?”

“Do you honestly believe that you live a lifestyle without consequence?” The duke said bluntly. “You are a leader, Harry. It’s time you started acting like one, and those reputable sources are coming straight from the mouths of the highest regards in London. Surely you paint me a fool for not believing them.”

The duchess placed a calming hand on her husband’s arm; her eyes fluttered as she tried to remain the calm sense, looking at her son who had his jaw tight with fury.

“What your father means, is that we believe you’re capable of so much more. You’ve shown bravery and resilience, but now it’s time to channel those qualities into something… meaningful.”

Harry’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to untighten his jaw, but seething instead. “And what would you have me do to prove that of myself?” The tightness and anger that filled within him made his fist feel tight. “We’ve had this discussion, and I will not be brought to my knees with fulfilling the requests to marry.”

The duke’s eyes narrowed in thought at his son’s proposition. “For a start, you might take a lesson from someone like Miss Dowding. She’s shown discipline, propriety, and dedication to her role—she is new, making her name in our world and has done so with absolute grace. Perhaps you could benefit from observing her example.”

Harry’s head snapped toward his father, irritation flashing in his eyes. “You’re comparing me to a governess?”

“If the comparison stings, then perhaps it’s worth considering why.” The duke replied evenly, his voice stern at his son’s complete overreaction to the terms.

The comment struck a nerve, though Harry masked his reaction to try and forfeit the anger. The wine glass was lifted to his mouth, draining the rest before he was setting the glass down with deliberate precision on the wooden table. “Your concern of my well-being and duty is duly noted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

Standing from the velvet chair, his feet could not have taken him quicker out of the room. The warmth of it starting to get to his head as he felt the complete wrath of anger. He left the room, trudging his way towards the west wing; without waiting for a response from either of his parentals, his steps measured as he retreated to the one place that felt that there was an issued silence.

The door to the room was closed; his hand reaching to double doors that were arched with beauty before pushing through them, practically flying through the quiet space. The only sound was the sound of his breath filling the air around him. His walk slowed them, eyes trained on the larger shelves that were masterfully placed around the majestically large ballroom. It had been a dream of his to fill the room with essentially the best literature and adventurous readings that he could find. Once he did, he would send them home, leaving this room to be filled with all his thoughts, all his journeys were contained to this space. Harry took multiple steps, leaning against the shelves, his fingers brushing the spines of the books without focus.

Miss Dowding. Josephine.

The name lingered in his mind, irritating him in ways he couldn’t fully articulate. Just the sound of her name as it crossed his lips made his stomach churn with uncertainty. She was a governess; a fixture of the household whose purpose was to educate his sisters and remain in the background of his dutiful work.

And yet, she had somehow become a point of comparison, a reminder of his supposed failings. She had not seen the gruesome reality of the war; she had not been the heir to the nobility that he had been given. It did not rest of her shoulders, yet, he believed that she could fulfill every duty asked of her without a single glance.

He thought of her earlier, standing before the chalkboard with that maddening air of composure that only bewildered him more. She had challenged him with her poise, deflected his remarks without a hint of fluster. There was strength in her, quiet and unyielding, and it gnawed at him. He was used to women seeking his approval, his attention. Miss Dowding sought neither.

But intrigue was dangerous, he came to find. It led to questions, distractions, and vulnerabilities he couldn’t afford. Not now, anyways. He had spent years crafting a reputation that served as both armor and weapon, a way to deflect expectations and avoid entanglements. Yet, here he had been, the subject of the latest talk.

Miss Dowding, with her steady gaze and measured words, threatened to unravel him further. Further, further down.

Harry exhaled sharply, pushing away from the shelves with a bubbling anger that he couldn’t place. He wouldn’t let his curiosity about her consume him. No—he wouldn’t let that happen.

Whatever interest he felt was fleeting, a passing fancy that would fade in time, he was certain of it. How certain he had been, thinking of those grey eyes that would tell a story so detailed that this mind would only dream of with the highest intentions of all his desires, would be easy to forget.

And, oh how completely, undeniably certain his affection had been all along. So, to learn from her, would be his greatest privilege, he thought.

[scribesoflex]

just thinking abt older miguel x younger reader (smut 17+)

age gap! dark concept!

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚.

you’re his best friend’s daughter, who he watched grow from an awkward teen to a young woman.

until puberty hit, and everything changed. no longer wanting to be around miguel or your father, prancing around like you’re better than that – than hanging out with family.

you grew up much faster than he’d hoped you would and sooner rather than later he’s loosing you to parties and dumb college boys (not like you were ever actually his) that he obviously thinks aren’t good enough.

no more wanting to spend Friday evenings snuggled on the couch, watching a scary movie. no more splashing around in his pool, shrieking out when he tosses you from the ladder. it all came to a stop.

you smiling at him or wishing him a good day coming to a halt, and he begins hearing your father complain of your behavior almost everyday. he’s getting sick of it, wishing you’d just be a good girl again. he tried to tell your father that you need punished, but he’s not having it – he swears it won’t do any good. that you’ve grown up too much.

miguel isn’t oblivious to what a young woman in college does. he was your age once, he knows. knows that your frame filled out, and that your legs grew longer, eyes got shiner, pouty lips got poutier. he just tries not to think too hard about how other men know that as well. and don’t get miguel wrong either – he feels like a creep for staring too long, looking where he shouldn’t. you look up to him.

or atleast you did.

but he’s also not an idiot, and he knows that when he’s not looking at you – you’re looking at him. chewing your lip, thinking things you probably shouldn’t, because that would just be wrong. it would be so so wrong.

it’s miguel who knows that it will do good. a simple plan really, to catch you alone, corner you and scare you into being a better daughter. miguel knows he’s a scary guy, that not even you can see past.

a late evening, one where your father is working late, and you don’t have to study. miguel is going to do it then, slipping in through the front door quietly, padding up the stairs to your bedroom.

that’s when he sees you doing something you definitely shouldn’t be.

your bedroom door is cracked, because you think you’re alone, and it’s just enough for him to see you – pillow lodged between your thighs, face screwed tight in pleasure, hips jumping and squirming. Your shirt is longer than it should be, but it’s caught on the curve of your bare ass, revealing it to his wide eyes.

He knows he should just silently retreat, go home and try to pretend like this hasn’t happened, he really does know it. but he stays put.

in a trance, length growing hard in his boxers with every stupid little incoherent plead you let out, squeaking and whining. you’re begging into the air, please wanna cum, please please. frail frame shaking and twitching. he just can’t seem to stop watching, drool pooling at the back of his throat, swallowing thickly.

you gasp out, thighs clamping tighter around the pillow, clearly approaching an orgasm, but you force yourself to stop, chewing your bottom lip. miguel thinks for a moment that maybe you can see him somehow, but that thought diminishes when you toss the pillow to the floor, falling forward, pressing your face into the mattress, legs spread wide, ass high in the air.

he can’t breathe when he sees it – your soaking pussy, screaming for him, creamy and puffy as if you’ve been at for hours.

you slip two fingers in your hole, moaning out, toes curling. the noises you make when you start thrusting your small fingers in and out, gushy and obscenely loud, make him hot. sweat building at his hairline, cock twitching in his pants.

and as if it can’t get any worse, you say it. what he’d been imagining you do.

“miguel please, need it so bad mi vida” you croon, muffled by the bed sheets, but clear as day in his ears.

“hmmm what does my sweet girl need” he coos, clicking his toungue, sucking a breath between his teeth to suffice the nerves building in his stomach.

you pause, face twisting around to see him as he trudges into your room, glowering down at you with shame. your pussy clenches around your fingers, wetness seeping out around the knuckle, and you whine.

your fingers spread your folds, letting him see your greedy hole as his hands come to spread your cheeks, shuddering at the sight up close.

“want you to fuck me, want it so so bad”

he hums, fingers ghosting over your slit, flicking your clit “since you’re begging so sweetly” he smirks.

you behave better the next day.

𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚. severely unedited! pt.2 here

[sturncrazy]

New Camera 🔥

Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)

warnings: SMUUUUUTTT NSFW 18+ (umm lots. use of camera/recording, dom matt, degrading, slapping, language, daddy kink, slight choking, unprotected, creampie, j very rough)

authors note: so this won the vote for which y’all wanted first! ask and u shall receive! this one is FILTHY AND KINKY so if that’s not ur vibe, uve been warned…also side note, i feel like this goes without saying but, i write mostly unprotected… guys pls don’t actually do that. wrap it before u tap it🫶 ok luv u!! enjoy!!

summary: your boyfriend matt gets a new camera before going on tour and decides to experiment with it on you…

word count: 2,270 w

~you look good on camera baby let’s go make a film~

—————————————————————————

your phone buzzed on your desk.

“be over in 10 babe ❤��” read a message from matt. you went back to fixing your makeup in the mirror, wanting to look your best for your boyfriends last night home. Matt was about to leave to go on tour tomorrow and it would be a month and a half before you got to see him again. even though you were excited for him, you wanted to make sure it was extra hard for him to leave you. after swiping on some lip gloss, you rummaged through your closet and landed on a thin white tank and flannel shorts. comfy, but still cute and showed just the right amount of skin to hopefully get his attention. your doorbell rang and you ran to answer it.

“hi, beautiful” matt said, pulling you in for a kiss.

“hi” you said smiling at him, the chill from outside hitting your mostly bare skin. he closed the door and walked in. his eyes gave you a once over as he took off his coat.

“you look hot” he smirked

“oh yeah?” you replied coyly, turning to head back down the hall.

“yeah. some shorts” he chuckled out, blatantly checking out your ass.

“what these?” you teased, bending over slightly

“don’t start with me, y/n” matt came up behind you and slapped your ass, playfully but hard. the two of you walked to your room and you flopped on your bed, reaching for the remote to your tv. matt followed and unzipped his backpack, rummaging through it and pulling out a box.

“whatcha got there?”

“bought a new vlog camera for tour!” he answered, excitedly

“wanna see?” he sat down next to you, showing off the new device.

“oooo fancy” you knew nothing about cameras, but pretended to be impressed since matt was so enthusiastic. his fingers whizzed around the buttons.

“it’s got awesome quality and it’s so easy to use” he continued, the machine chirped as he hit the red button and pointed it at your face.

“matttt” you whined, covering your face with your hands.

“what are you being camera shy?” he snickered, standing above you continuing to point the lens at you.

“cmon show me that gorgeous face of yours baby” you huffed, dramatically and lowered your hands looking up at him.

“that’s my pretty girl” he cooed, making a smile toy at the corners of your mouth. you could never say no to him. his eyes flicked over you behind the camera and you tried to read what he was thinking. he licked his lips and backed up, silently, getting a wider view of you in frame. you stayed put on the bed.

“take your top off” he stated, flatly.

“matt-what—?” you nervously laughed out

“did i say it was a question? take your top off” something about the harshness of his tone was so out of character it made your heart race. you reached for the hem of your tank and began to lift it.

“damn, baby” matt growled out, lowering the camera to capture your exposed tits. you breathed heavily, unable to bring yourself to move from your perched position on the edge of your bed. your eyes followed as his hands lowered the camera even further to where you had your hands in your lap.

“now your shorts”

“but—matt—im not wearing any underwear” you stuttered.

“and?”

“well you’re filming i mean i—“

“if you’re gonna be a little slut and not wear your panties then i get to treat you like a little slut. strip.” he interrupted, gruffly. you couldn’t help but notice how insanely hot he sounded being so demanding, and hoped he wouldn’t be able to see your already obvious wetness. you reached for your waistband, standing, never taking your eyes off him as you began to lower your shorts to the floor. you stepped out of them and kicked them aside. nervousness spread goosebumps across your skin as you became aware of how completely exposed you were to matt and his camera. this was unlike anything you’d ever done before.

“good girl” matt praised, dryly.

“you wanna give me a better view of that pretty little ass of yours and bend over the bed for me?” you felt as vulnerable to matt’s commands as the machine in his hands. you slowly turned half way and rested your hands on your bed, lifting your ass into better view for him.

“fuck” he exhaled. you could feel him move closer behind you. he brought a hand sharply down against your flesh. you whimpered.

“so sexy” he growled.

“got me so hard just looking at you baby” you turned your head back to look at him. he laughed, sinisterly.

“what? you wanna see what you’re doing to me, slut? huh?”

you nodded, dumbly. he snickered again.

“course you do. get on your knees for me.” he demanded. you followed every order like a well trained dog. you settled down by his feet and looked back up at him, as he readjusted the lens again.

“mmmm you look so perfect from this angle, babygirl” he praised stroking your face gently, before slapping his hand against your cheek just enough to sting a bit. your jaw dropped slightly in surprise, which matt took as an opportunity to slid his thumb into your mouth. you sucked at his digit and he groaned, watching you before sliding it back out of your mouth creating a popping sound.

“take off my pants” he commanded. you eagerly fumbled with his belt and zipper, hooking your fingers around the waste and and pulling slowly. his already rock hard dick sprung out and slapped his t shirt. your mouth almost watered in desperation at the sight of his veiny, practically throbbing, member.

“open your mouth, baby” he exhaled. you looked up into the camera, doe eyed and parted your lips with your tongue out slightly. he pumped himself with his free hand, the tip of his dick just grazing your lips and tongue and then began to slowly insert himself into your warm wet mouth. he ran his hand down your head, petting your hair, soothingly, as you took him all the way down the back of your throat. fighting the urge to gag at his size.

“such a good girl” matt groaned. his pets reached the base of your skull, then latched harshly into your hair. his grip was tight, as he began to thrust into your mouth. you felt tears form at the corner of your eyes as he forcefully fucked your throat. matt let his grasp on your hair go and slid himself out of your mouth. he grabbed your jaw and forced you to turn your messy face to him, getting a clear shot of the streaks of tears on your cheeks and spit running down your chin.

“get on your hands and knees. i need to feel that pretty little pussy of yours” he huffed, patting your face again. you scrambled to the bed, desperate to feel him fill you up. you’d never felt so much heat screaming from between your legs in your life. you arched your back, letting matt have perfect access to your dripping folds. matt dragged a finger down them, teasing you and eliciting a loud whine from your lips.

“soaking for me already huh, slut?” he mocked. all you could do in response was whimper.

“so pathetic for me” he taunted, pressing two fingers against your entrance.

“matt—please—“ you breathed out in agony

“camera can’t hear you, baby. be a good little slut and beg louder for me.”

“Matt—fuck—-please—i need your dick now—“ you cried out, the need for contact almost eating away at your brain. you screamed as matt rammed into you, entirely, and without warning. the unprepared sensation of stretch caused a pleasurable pain to radiant through you. he groaned, finally feeling your wet pussy around his torturously hard dick. he began to relentlessly pound into you from behind, filling the room with deafening slapping sounds intermixed with your screams and his grunts.

“MATT—“ you cried out, overwhelmed by his intensity, collapsing your face into the pillows beneath you.

“what? ” he wrapped his free hand around a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back up.

“don’t act like you can’t handle my cock now, slut.” he snarled, not letting up on his unwavering rhythm in and out of your core. he slapped your ass again.

“understand?”

“yes matt” you wheezed. he slapped your ass again.

“yes, who?”

“fuckk—yes, daddy” you sobbed out

“good girl” his thrusts hit your g spot each time, making your legs shake and stars form against your tightly squeezed eyelids.

“you wanna show me how much you love my cock, princess?”

“yes, daddy” you hardly could think straight

“bounce that perfect ass on my cock, baby” he said, slowing his thrusts. you obeyed and began to rock your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his dick.

“good girl. doing such a good job” he sang out, one hand gripping your flesh while the other captured your movement on film. you whimpered again, your hips stuttering.

“you tired, princess?” you nodded and let out another pathetic sound.

“need daddy to take over again?”

“yes—oh fuck—please daddy-“ you managed to mumble out. Matt pulled out of you abruptly, causing you to whine at the loss. you couldn’t move anymore, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop fucking you. he slapped your ass again

“turn over” he growled

“i wanna see your pretty face when i cum in your pussy” you felt like you could cum from his filthy requests alone. you’d barely even landed on you back before matt slammed back into your throbbing entrance. he struggled to keep his balance momentarily, too desperate to feel you around him again. he kept one hand supporting himself upright and the other still holding the camera, pointed at you as his picked back up his steady thrusts.

“so perfect—look ss-so good—with my cock stuffed inside your little pussy” he huffed out between thrusts

“OH—fuck—yes—your cock feels so good, daddy” you moaned out, helplessly. your eyes rolling back into your head. matt’s free hand wrapped around your throat, constricting your breathing perfectly.

“watch me while i fuck you, slut” he growled.

“yes, daddy” you wheezed out against his tight grip. he removed his hand and you gasped for air. within moments of his dick pounding perfectly back against your sweet spot, you felt your orgasm begin to crest.

“FUCK—IM—“ you panted.

“that’s it—good girl—cum all over daddy’s cock” he ordered. your walls clenched and throbbed around him uncontrollably, causing him to let out a string of curse words. you felt his dick begin to twitch deep inside you.

“ohh-hh-fuck—shit” he stuttered out, his thrusts becoming wilder and less expertise.

“mmm—close—“ he groaned, his jaw dropping slightly.

“mmmm fuck yeah cum inside me, daddy” you whined out, your high still settling.

“shit yeah baby? you want me to fill your little pussy?”

your brows knotted and your nodded your head desperately.

“fuck i’ll fill you up—so full of cum—baby you’ll look—-so perfect—spilling out of you” he huffed

“OH FUCK FUCK BABY IM GONNA CUM” he cried out as his whole body shook. he thrust deep into you one last time, halting as his cock spasmed against your walls. releasing a multitude of spurts of his hot white load. once matt seemed to regain his senses, he clicked the red button again—ending his taping. he pulled out of you slowly, making your legs shake. he glanced down at your trembling sensitive entrance leaking his release in pulses and bit his lip in a satisfied smirk, snapping one last photo of the mess he’d made of you.

“MATT!” you laughed out in embarrassment, shutting your legs and rolling onto your side.

“sorry…i had to. too hot not save” he said, smiling and flopping down next to you.

“are you okay? was that too much?” he asked, pushing your hair out of your face.

“no way. i loved that”

“you swear i wasn’t too rough with you?” he said with worry. you shook your head vigorously

“not at ALL! that was HOT” you replied through a smile. he fought a grin, biting his lip clearly extremely pleased at your enthusiasm.

“so can i ask what inspired the camera?” you questioned.

“well, now on tour i can reminisce what it’s like to fuck my crazy hot girlfriend” he smiled at the ceiling.

“hey!” you slapped his chest playfully “you know you can always facetime me and we cannnnn” you dragged your words out, looking off into the distance above his face in teasing suggestion.

“oh don’t you worry, we’ll have phone sex all the time. this is just for when you can’t call me and i need to…y’know” he glanced down at his crotch.

“jesus, how many times are you planning on jerking off” you teased

“twice a day. minimum.” he matter of factly stated, grinning again.

“MATTHEW!” you scoffed out in shock

“What? not my fault you’re so sexy” he laughed, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips.

“yeah yeah whatever. just NEVER show that to anyone”

“are you kidding me? you think i’d ever let anyone else get a look at you like that? nhhuhh nope.” he shook his head dramatically

“only i get to see how perfect you look getting your brains fucked out” he leaned in, kissing you playfully again. you giggled, feeling a slight blush.

“i love you, you freak” you said against his lips.

“i love you more, baby”

—————————————————————————

ok y’all were on to something with wanting this one cause WHY DO I LOVE IT?? rly hope everyone likes it ahhh 🫶🫶

also guys imagine matt accidentally posting the wrong video and posts ur tape instead of a car video?? HAHA

[notsominx]

5:06 AM and I’m thinking of…just the tip.

Like he knows you can take his whole cock if you tried. Though he can’t help but feel a bit guilty hearing your small whines of “It’s…too big..mm..I c-can’t.”

“Yes you can..you’re being so good for me. Just a bit more.” He mumbles pushing more of his mushroom tip into your tight cunt.

Your insides fluttered and squeezes around his tip, denying him to go any further. He lets out a groan of how good you feel. Slowly he starts thrusting, only fucking you with his tip.

Sooner you’ll have to adjust to his size, but for now, fucking with just the tip is fine.

A/N: This was just a rant since this been on my mindddd, Needa write this better whenever I can.

[lenoraslament]

Either it's just pure fluff where y/n makes fun of Theo for sounding like mario when he speaks Italian and it's this cute moment or y/n can make fun of Theo for sounding like mario when he speaks Italian and he fuck her brainless because of her "disrespect"

Oh my god this request made me laugh so much I had to do it. Mixture of smut and comedy. Which let’s be honest is my favorite thing to write.

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), degradation, rough sex, piv, comedy

“It’s a me! Marioooo!” You do your best impression of Mario with a thick Italian accent. Theo’s dark eyes glare at you as his mouth hangs open.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks impatiently and clearly not amused

“You know,” you say giggling nervously, “Mario brothers….Mario…plumber”

Theo’s face is rife with disgust and confusion. You try to explain but he holds his hand up silencing you as he left.

“She called me a plumber,” Theo said to Mattheo as they both smoked in the courtyard. Mattheo took a drag and tilted his head.

“Are you sure man? A plumber?” Mattheo asked shifting in the cold biting air.

“Some Mario plumber,” Theo said angrily.

Mattheo nearly doubled over laughing. He dropped his cigarette and had his hands on his knees as Theo watched offended.

“You know this plumber too!?!” Theo asked in outrage. He held up his hands as if cursing the entire world for his own confusion.

Mattheo wipes tears off his cheeks as he pulls out his phone to show Theo. Theo watches a video of the game and a clip of Mario talking.

“Ah man, your girlfriend is hilarious” he said grinning but Theo is already pitching his cigarette onto the ground. He storms off to go find you as Mattheo pulls out his phone to text.

Theo stumbles into the common room. Pansy and Enzo are sitting, laughing at something Enzo is reading on his phone

“Have you seen Y/N!?” Theo asked in an exasperated tone.

“Maybe your princess is in another castle,” Enzo said as he and Pansy burst out into hysterical laughter.

Theo’s jaw is nearly wired shut in anger as he stomps towards your dorm.

“Why did you compare me to some stupid cartoon man?!?” Theo burst into your room as your mouth hung open.

“Baby it was just…” you wanted to say ‘a joke’ but he cut you off. His mouth pushes against yours in a punishing kiss. You moaned in surprise as he knocked you over onto the bed.

His hands were eager, pushing up your skirt. Pulling down your panties, ripping off your bra as if he had something to prove. It wasn’t until he plunged his fingers deep inside you that he finally spoke.

“So disrespectful,” he muttered in your ear as his thumb swirled around against your clit making you gasp. Roughly, he curled his fingers rocking his entire arm making your mouth drop open. The two fingers punched at that spongy spot over and over until your back arched. Soft gasps turning into breathy moans and you felt a flood of pleasure snap in you. Before your body can stop reeling, you hear the zip of his pants eagerly being shed. Your eyes are still screwed shut, his hands wrap around your ankles dragging you to him across the bed as you pant.

“Baby…,”you mutter breathlessly, but his fingers plunge into your mouth. You gag softly as your eyes widen in surprise.

“So fucking disrespectful bella” he says as he pushes his index finger down on your tongue. You feel thick saliva choking you, you swallow and whine, “I have a better use for that mouth” he mutters in a low voice.

Even as he wraps his hand around your throat to guide it to his cock you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement. The heat between your thighs is undeniable even as he thrusts into your mouth making you blink back tears. He notices the arch in your back as he fucks your pretty lips.

“That’s better,” he mutters as he leans over to grab a handful of your ass greedily. Feeling the vibration of your whimpers and moans on his cock leaves him feral. His finger grip your jaw as he shoves himself in one last time before shoving you back onto the bed.

His eyes are darkened but a cocky smirk remains. The half lidded daze he’s left you in spurs him on as he crawls over to you. Pressing his hands into the back of your thighs he hovers overs your pussy sliding his cock over your slick.

Achingly slow he pumps in making your eyes roll back, groaning at the sight of your mouth slack and panting. His pace quickens and you cry out his name as he mutters curses

“So fucking tight for me, I’m going to stretch you out so good,” his voice is laced with frustration and pleasure, “bad fucking girl”. As you throw back your head and moan loudly, it dawns on you that you should piss him off more often. Your hips tremble as your body tenses, the ragged breath escaping your mouth cuts through your symphony of whines.

He fucks you through your orgasm with a vengeance. You’re in heaven when his hands lace through your hair and tug your head to look at him.

“Still think I’m some stupid Mario plumber?” He asks with a sneer that somehow only makes you want him more.

Between breathy sighs you grin at him.

“No. You’re much too tall,” you say mockingly, “you’re more like Luigi”.

His mouth drops into an offended scoff but he only rolls you over so you can get on your knees.

It’s going to be a long night for you now.

[barnacles34]

Bedside (Ryujin x M!Reader)

Tags: Soft!Ryujin, Dom M!Reader, Soft Dom/Sub, 4k+, True Love, Lots of Fluff, Lots of Smut

The morning felt like it was wrapped in a golden haze, the kind of light that pours in slowly, spreading warmth over everything it touches. I woke with a start, the sun carefully layered on my covered body, its rays stopping just short of my face. The blanket was warmed by its touch, a soft cocoon that enveloped me and Ryujin. I turned my head to the side, and there she was, her face inches from mine, eyes open wide, studying me with a serene intensity.

Her gaze was almost hypnotic—those magnificent eyes that seemed to capture the morning light, her thick, pink lips parted slightly in a silent question, and a delicate button nose that added a youthful charm to her sharp intellect. She was stunning in a way that was almost surreal, like a dream that had somehow crossed into reality.

She lifted a single finger and traced a circle on my exposed collarbone with her long, delicate fingernail, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. “Good morning, babe,” she whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on my bicep, her lips soft and warm against my skin. Her voice had a playful lilt to it, a mix of affection and mischief.

“What do you want to eat?” she asked, her voice a low murmur that carried a sweet intimacy.

I stretched slightly, my arm still heavy with sleep, but my mind was already waking up, tuned into her presence. “Anything you make, babe,” I replied, my hand moving to her head, fingers weaving through her hair, gently patting her. I shifted, offering my arm as a pillow, inviting her to come closer.

Ryujin grinned, a playful glint in her eyes, as she rested her head on my arm. “What if your blood circulation stops?” she teased, nuzzling into my arm, her breath warm against my skin.

“I’ll tolerate it,” I whispered back, my thumb brushing lightly against her scalp, savoring the soft texture of her hair. Her fingers began to inch the blanket lower, tracing slow, deliberate patterns across my chest, her touch firm yet gentle, igniting little sparks wherever her skin met mine.

“Hey, Koji?” she asked again, this time her voice carrying a note of insistence, like a question that had been hanging in the air.

I blinked, still shaking off the last remnants of sleep. “What’s up?” I mumbled, my voice groggy but curious.

“Do you want to have dinner with the group?” she asked, her fingers pausing for a moment on my chest, as if waiting for my answer.

“Huh?” I replied, a bit more alert now, my brow furrowing slightly. “Why would you invite me to that?”

Ryujin’s smile didn’t waver; instead, it widened, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t know, I want to introduce you to the other members,” she said, her hands stilling, her palms pressing warmly against my skin. The touch felt more intense, like her words had given it a new weight.

“Wouldn’t Yeji just tell everyone anyway?” I countered, my tone amused, knowing how easily news traveled in their circle.

“They probably don’t even believe her,” Ryujin replied, laughing softly. “She’s always getting pranked and believes things so easily.” I could picture Yeji, her bright eyes wide with excitement, trying to convince everyone, the thought almost hysterical.

Ryujin shifted closer, her breath warm against my neck, her body fitting perfectly against mine like she had always belonged there. Her hand moved again, this time more slowly, tracing the lines of my muscles with deliberate precision, her fingertips a light dance across my skin. I felt her lips press against my shoulder, a soft, lingering kiss that seemed to convey a hundred unspoken words.

I watched her, the way her face softened as she nuzzled into me, the way her body seemed to melt into mine, and I felt that familiar ache in my chest, that overwhelming need to hold her closer, to feel her warmth against me. She was everything I never knew I needed, a perfect paradox of strength and softness, of intelligence and playfulness. I could feel her heartbeat against mine, a steady, comforting rhythm that seemed to sync perfectly with my own.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice low, my hand moving to cup her cheek, brushing a thumb along her jawline. “I’ll go, but only because you asked.”

Her eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and delight, and she kissed my cheek, quick and soft. “Good. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

She started to pull away, but I caught her wrist, pulling her back to me. “Not so fast,” I murmured, my lips finding hers in a slow, deep kiss. She responded immediately, her body pressing closer, her hands moving to my shoulders, gripping me tightly.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other. “Okay, okay,” she laughed, breathless but happy. “You win. Breakfast first.”

She moved back, moving off the bed with her knees, her hair cascading around her beautiful face. But I couldn’t resist anymore, I grabbed hold of her ankle, and I pulled her back in.

She yelped in surprise, looking at me with a questioning look.

“Let’s do it.” I asked, more of a demand than anything.

“Why are you treating me like I have 10 years of experience, I’m basically sore everyday because of your antics!” She scolded me, mixed with a breaching laughter that eventually took over her irritation.

“How could I resist? Baby. You. Drive. Me. Fucking. Crazy.” Enunciating every word into her face. She stared with all her resolve, which was about a second before she looked away, her wide-eyed pupils frantically moving around. She didn’t have any experience, true. It was her little world I breached with years of experience. Yet, she complimented me so well, so profoundly, her amateur blowjobs, the highlight of my years; the uneven hip movement, the cause of the fire in my loins; her little trembling lips as she climaxed, the afterburn of my lustful passion.

Her face relaxed into acceptance, into affection, she was mine. Slowly our lips grazed, the misty hot breaths enveloping portions of our face. The sweet heat of our interactions grew; my erection was already poking into her navel, my hands already searching, finding, caressing the unbelievable curves of her hips, a genuine hourglass, the most perfect, soft hourglass. Each tight and desperate grip on her hips confirmed one oxymoron after another, her ass like a firm dough, elastic to the touch, warm to the embrace; there was no grip, no swell caress that could satisfy me of her ass, it was perfection personified.

“You like that?” As I caressed her, the side of abdomen, the soft skin underneath her breasts.

“Yes…” she breathed a soft moan against my grip.

I slowly enveloped her neck with my other hand, still lapping at her welcome and moist lips, not to choke her out, but to show her that I have ownership over her, that I was the sole owner.

“Who owns you?” I demanded.

She was silent, I tightened the grip, not on her neck, but the skin surrounding her, I would never, never ever hurt her. 

I pushed my erection against her covered wet cunt, a loud “mmph!” sounded, vibrated, against my lips, it was all a sopping mess. It was an extraordinary affair, to the point where I realized the grip on her skin was too much, the imprint of my grip left white surrounded by the red recirculation.

“Who owns you!?” I growled against her face, the separation of our kiss caused by my penultimate inquiry, our cheeks stuck together, slick with sweat, slick with the condensation of love. 

“You own me! You… own… me…” she whispered, softly clawing her nails on my nape, thoroughly attached to the side of my face. The seductive breath of her declaration on my ears, the faint waves that serenaded the curves of my ears, riled me up so hard, so fucking hard.

“Yes I do, I own you.” I declared, this time, I pulled my face off, no matter how pleasing the heat shared with our bodies was. There was another award, hiding behind her white panties, the condensed wetness at her entrance, begging for reprieve. Slowly I hooked the fabric covering her heat, a wonderful light pink stared back, slick and glossy with arousal, it begged for the relief that I promised, that I held over her like a diamond on a stick. 

“Please”, she said, mouthing the back of her finger, searching for anything to calm her arousal.

I was leading her on, it was euphoric, watching a ‘femme fatale’ writhe under you, begging for reprieve. Slowly and steadily, I climbed on her again, but with a finger grazing, caressing the heat, her pussy, that Ryujin begged to control, it was never enough, of course, it was grazes—caresses that only lead her on more. She was writhing, literally, the striations of her faint abs moved in tandem with the absolute authority she had over her waist. It was surreal. The teasing continued, this time, though, I planted my hand on her body, spreading the essence over her body, the essence that her pussy spread over my hand through just gentle grazes, a streak of a bright sheen across her abdomen, it was divine, absolutely virile.

She breathed heavily, the ceased teasing seemed to give her a moment of peace of mind, her chest heaved in tandem with wavy bounces of her soft beautiful breasts.

“Do you want this cock?” I asked vulgarly. Gripping her legs, waiting for a response, a faint sound was heard, only the submissive tone could be interpreted.

“What was that?” I chimed in, with my head turned, waiting for a more clear sentence.

She quickly grabbed the nape of my neck, pulling herself up with both of her arms. I stumped both of my arms to resist letting both of us fall.

She pulled me in deeper, my ear still turned slightly towards her words: “Daddy, fuck this pussy until I can’t walk anymore,” a chill moan and a vibration exited her body, “fuck me until I can’t think of anything else, paint my pussy in your cum, fuck me until my ass is red with love.” Each sentence weakened the stumped arms, each sentence lowering her onto the bed in tandem with me. 

This time, I swiped the condom, making sure that I don’t make the same mistake for the fifth time. This time, I was ready, a full box of condoms, a canvas to paint with my essence: her body. She wrapped her fingers around my hair whilst she kissed all over my face, “I can’t wait, daddy…”

I didn’t even care if the condom was properly on my dick, all I wanted to do was pummel her with my cock, I wanted her sopping wet mess gumming on my cock for hours straight, perhaps overambitious, but anything less with a goddess like her would be tantamount to self-sabotage to the highest degree.

In the haze of the rapid acceleration into intercourse, many significant things were forgotten. One of them is that Ryujin was still sore from our combined passions these past days, second, that I was 10 inches taller, third, that I could lift 40kg quite easily with one hand. This ignorance of my brute strength combined into a display of absolute inequality. With an arm wrapped around her waist, I picked her up; the other arm explored her soft curves, the glowing creamy skin softer than a water balloon. If my dick was trouble for women 10 inches taller than her, then most definitely would be an incomprehensible hurdle for Ryujin, I felt bad, but really, I wasn’t going to stop, not a fucking chance.

When I picked her up, the position naturally assumed a foreshadowing penetration, I kneeled with my dick in full mast, and the crevices between her thighs and ass slotted onto my thighs, her pussy sliding down slowly onto my cock, her wet pussy perfectly aligned for a most grievous exchange of lust.

“You want it?” I swiped some hairs stuck to her forehead, savoring her knotted face of arousal, of a needy lust. 

“Yes.. I want it so bad, I’ll do anything, please, just fuck me out of my mind…” Her face snapped closer to my face, breathing slowly against my face, waiting for the ecstatic relief of penetration.

I wasn’t stolid in my determination to tease her any further, and feared the chance that her mind could break any second. And so, slowly, I entered her, the reverberating sound of her sopping cunt squelching against my cock was impossible to miss. She breathed in shorter intervals, desperate waves of air caressed my face, she was moaning noticeably louder against my face, still stolid in her determination to stare at my face, making sure that I felt the breaths of arousal on my face, the fervor in her doe-eyes begging for more, strands of saliva from our wet kisses still connecting our lips in faith.

Each time we have sex, five times so far, it’s electric, not in the way that it’s new; of course it’s new, rather, it’s the pure lust—pure passion that wrings out of our bodies uncontrollably, the smothered flames of lust nudging us into a most perfect arrangement. It’s something my former secretaries couldn’t wring out, former daughters of chaebols irritated by my disinterest; only the virgin lust of Ryujin, the loving embrace, brought my flames out. 

And she knows, in her irritated face at hearing about my ‘experience’, she knows that she alone was the only one, to make me growl in her ear in lust, slap her ass in desperation, caress the smooth skin of her god-given sculpted skin, and cuddle with for days.

And so the rapid rumination of our past reflections apexed when I finally buried my cock to the hilt inside her, a final spine-bending moan wrung out of her, the transition into a primal, adrenal, lustful love completed. Swiftly, I pulled her up, her wet mess collecting at the base of my cock, and wet squelches with loud moans synchronized as I sped up, skewering her sopping cunt on my cock.

Her moans were fast, uneven, a rhythm that could never be replicated in any other conditions. Quick and searing ‘Ah!s’ serenaded my ears, only motivating my body to push further, the blood flowing quicker through my body, helping me plunder her insides

“Hngh—I’m gon—I’m gonna—cumm~!” Still seated on my lap, her head fell back, almost spine-bending, her mouth wrenched open with a deep moan exiting her body, tremors shook out her orgasm for the shortest, lengthiest 10 seconds: short in that I wished I could fuck her through the orgasm for longer, lengthy in that her pussy pulsated, varying degrees of tightness that provided wonderful relief, almost making me pulse my essence into the condom, wasting a perfect opportunity to paint her body.

Speeding up against her orgasm didn’t help the matter, she moaned louder, I thought she had already lost the facade of indifference, but her moans were a whole order of magnitude louder. 

“Oh my god—fuck me until I can’t walk—carry me to the dinner!” Her mind was loose, anything that went through her head exited out her mouth… adorable.

Oh shit.

I forgot we had a dinner to attend to.

The sudden realization led to a burst of laughter.

Ryujin brought her head back, confused at what I was laughing at, and asked “what happened?”

“Nothing” I replied

“Tell me!” she nagged, with a higher pitch from the afterglow of her orgasm.

“I think you forget that I’m buried inside you.” I planted her onto the bed, missionary style, and pumped–”Ah!” her moan enthusiastically approved the move. 

The wet slaps of our skin colliding with each other was wonderful. I pulled her legs up, each leg next to my ears, her thick thighs reverberating the wet slaps even more. We had no sense of time, everything outside our depth of field didn’t matter. Hundreds of hours wasted trying to be mindful, to be present, when I could just make Ryujin squirt on my cock in order to be present, in this moment, I realized my rudimentary instincts.

“Turn around” I demanded, in a tone befit to threaten.

“Ah~~Huh? What did you say?” She asked, a puzzled expression, one muddled with a pleasured expression.

I made sure she listened this time. I approached her head, then her ear, made sure my mouth was close to her ear. Slowly I demanded: “Turn around, point your ass to the sky, you slut…” I swear I could feel her nipple become harder whilst I was pinching it.

She submissively turned around, listening to my demands, pointing her beautiful ass to the sky, with her back arched, accentuating her beautiful bare back, the wideness of her hips, the slimness of her body. 

I gripped her waist tightly, everytime I have sex with her, I try to wrap my fingers around her waist. It's always so close, almost touching together. You may ask why I do it. I do it because I can.

“Look at my hands, they’re around your waist, my fingers are almost touching. Look at you squirm on my dick, I can hold you still with one hand around your waist and you’re unable to move, two hands and I own you.” I teased into her ear, pausing extra long every sentence, every pause, I had control, and she loved it.

“Let’s see how I squirm under you.” she said teasingly, biting her index finger as she rested her head against the bed, her face shaped by her beautiful grin, her back arched, reflexing momentarily when laughing.

Honestly, this is the greatest moment of my life, not the billions I made, not the honorary awards I won, it was her, the most beautiful person in the world, that provided me the greatest joy. She was covered in the beautiful sunlight, bent over, the white blanket only accentuating her beauty, her dark hair misshapen across the bed cover. She was bent over, her ass subtly waving at me, waiting for reprieve, waiting for her fire to be put out by my fire, to be dominated in my flames of passion.

And so, I gripped her firm ass cheeks, it was like memory foam, yet softer, yet firmer. I need not explain, she was a polarizing figure, the most paradoxical woman, a goddess. I positioned my tip on her moist lips. In my periphery, I saw her hands adorably clench the blanket, readying herself for the discrepancies in which we extricated our passions.

Yet and so, yet and so. Our sex was in stages, mentally, I dive deeper and deeper into my latent rudimentary mind, one that millenniums of humanity have tried to hard to de-evolve, and yet, she brings it out so easily, in her submissiveness, in her beauty, she knows it not, but she has greater control of me than I do over her. The last stage of the bloom of my caveman mind, an appendix that suddenly took control of the entire body. The soft sounds her pussy made as my dick caved her in prodded me on forth. Each prod a little closer to kissing the end of her cerix, each prod forcing me deeper into a relentless passion.

The absolute serenity of the setting forgotten, the present, the future, the past and what may be, what could be, all forgotten in the haze of the soft wet slaps of our loins. Her breathy moans against the pillow, my strong thrusts that clapped out wet sounds worthy of some of the most obscene sounds you can hear. Her hips moved stealthily, the separation of mind and body apparent for Ryujin, her mind was empty, her eyes retreated back into her head in pleasure, yet her body moved so steadily, her body implored for more, her ass was turning pink from the salivating passion of our sex. 

I took peeks anytime I could, staring at her lovely sex gripping on my cock, running trails of her arousal, a bright sheen even under a muted sunlight covering us. 

“Ah! Ah~~ please, go slower.”

That warranted a loud slap.

“Owww~!” she screamed into the bed, again, not bringing any resistance.

“You’ll take what I give, you needy slut.” I hooked my hand around her throat softly, naturally assuming ownership over her, I felt her soft, creamy back on my chest as I caved in her deeper, my entire lower half was solely dedicated to pleasure, my top half perhaps more sensibly pushed for ownership.

Her hot means grew more rampant, shorter, more intense, she approached her orgasm so beautifully, so poetically, her face knotted in pleasure so beautifully, how could I ever give her the justice she is due?

The wet slaps grew louder, because I approached my climax, because I wanted to see her ass deform with the inertia I put her through; skewering her on my cock, her ass slapping against my hips.

“Ungh~ Un~ Uuuuunnnghhhh~~!” a lengthy moan escaped her body as she climaxed, a warmer wetness covering my cock as I continually skewered her, pummeled her.

Her arms shivered in pleasure, yet I fucked her deeper, holding down her wrists into the bed. Her arms instinctually begged to be released, begging to shiver, shiver to relieve the pressure of her orgasm, but I’ll make sure that she couldn’t walk, make sure this bed is wet with her overstimulation.

I fucked her relentlessly, still making sure to take care of her, softly caressing her body. I began to slow down, the strokes getting slower, I was getting so close, so close.

“Cum on my pussy… Paint me with your seed…”   

Those four words pushed me into overdrive, throwing her over, pointing my sheathed cock, dangerously close to her pussy. 

Every muscle in my body was tight, I didn’t care if I hurt my dick when I fisted it, I cared about painting Ryujin, her beautiful body in my seed. Sprays went out, her eyes grew larger and larger after each rope of semen covered her lower half.

I felt like I was almost in a gridlock, every muscle tensed in determination, in pleasure, and slowly my body fell onto Ryujin softly as the shock of sudden relief poisoned my trance. Her arms were open with a warm embrace, hugging me, rubbing her lower body to smear her stickiness onto me.

“Yo-” About to scold her, when she kissed me, deep and passionate, loving and tense.

“Let’s go shower” she whispered, with a lovely doe-eyed stare, her arms still wrenching me toward her face.

[moonlightpetalz6]

Kinktober Day 1 (Praise Kink)

Character: Sebastian (Stardew Valley)

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Praise kink, smut, pet names, unprotected sex, harsh language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes,

Wc: 4,795

A/n: AAAAAH Finally I can start posting these! anyways I really hope you enjoy this story! I tried my best to label all the warnings, so I apologize if I missed any! Anyways! I fucking love Sebastian in Stardew he was the first one I ever married in game!

______________________________________________________________

"If you keep glaring like that, you'll get wrinkles." You scoffed, bringing your drink to your lips as you glanced at your friend Leah, who happily munched on a salad, giving you a playful grin as she pointed her fork in the direction your eyes had been staring daggers at just seconds ago. At the other end of the Stardrop Saloon stood your recent ex-boyfriend Sam and his usual gang, except this time there was someone new with them. Your eyes took in the sight of your ex's arm tightly wrapped around Penny's shoulders as he went and kissed the top of her head, causing your heart to ache as you slightly cringe at the sight. "He's such a dick, right?" Leah questioned, tilting her head towards Gus, who silently cleaned one of his glasses. Gus opened his eyes, glancing from the two girls over to the group of young adults whose laughs echoed throughout his salon.

 

"Would you like another drink, Y/n? on the house?" He questioned, getting ready to give the farmer another cup. You took one last look at the new couple before letting out a deep sigh while pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling a slight headache approaching. "No, I think I should start heading back home. I have to wake up early to help Pierre with some new sales ideas he has." The two let out small sympathetic 'ahs' at your words while giving nods of understanding. You carefully rummage through your jeans, pulling out what you owe and slapping it on the counter as you wave goodbye to everyone who acknowledged your exit. You carefully swing the door open, closing your eyes as the night breeze hits your slightly flushed cheeks, letting out a contempt sigh as you lean against the Saloon, staring up into the night sky. 

'Come on Y/n it's been like two months now, get over it.' You thought, annoyed with your feelings. 'Maybe I should try dating again? I am pretty busy, though, with Winter coming in just a few months.' Letting out another deep sigh, you kick yourself off the wall, shoving your hands in your jeans pockets as you turn to return to the farm. Before you could even take the first step back, the doors to the Saloon opened as a familiar figure stepped out in front of you, causing you to stop all movement. "Oh, you're still here, Y/n?" Sebastian questioned, a cigarette between his lips as he looked down at you, slightly surprised to see your form next to him. You took a small step back as your body shifted, showing discomfort at the man's sudden appearance. Sebastian didn't say anything as he eyed you silently while lighting his cigarette. 

"Uh…hey, yeah, I was just about to head back." You mumbled, unable to make eye contact with your ex's best friend. Sebastian hummed his eyes, boring holes into your unaware figure as he let out a puff of smoke while carefully leaning against the Saloon. "Is that right? You want to keep me company for a bit?" His words catch you by surprise as you look up at his mouth, slightly open in awe. Sebastian gives you a barely noticeable smirk, amused with your reaction, as he raises a brow, tilting his head down to get a better look at you. "What? Just cause you and Sam are no longer together doesn't mean I have to stop talking to you, does it?" He scoffed, eyes narrowing as he clicked his tongue. You grew nervous with that as you quickly waved your hands out while stuttering over your words as you tried to devise excuses. 

"T-that's not! I- well, it's just you guys are so close and…um…I… I'm sorry." You admit defeat as you bend over from guilt. Sebastian just let out a small chuckle while ruffling your head as he let out another cloud of smoke. "Good to see you haven't changed since we last talked." He mumbled while motioning for you to join him against the wall. After a moment of hesitation, you decide to entertain your old friend, having not talked to anyone besides Leah since the breakup. "You're right…I haven't changed at all." You admitted while looking down at the ground, tapping your feet together. Sebastian's eyes narrow as he takes in your pitiful form, his chest tightening with disgust as he recalls how you used to smile whenever he saw you with Sam. An awkward silence falls between you, neither knowing what to say to the other after having not spoken in two months. 

"Did you see Sam and Penny?" Finally, Sebastian addresses the two people filling your vision the entire night. He doesn't take your eyes off your form, watching you stiffen at the mention of his best friend and new girlfriend. He hesitates momentarily, debating whether he should hit you with the harsh reality of their situation or leave you to your deluded thoughts. "... They're dating now." He finally starts watching as your body trembles, causing his jaw to clench as he feels a bit of rage cloud his vision, not liking the effect his best friend still had on you. Sebastian bites his lip before going to continue with his words. "They've been dating since-!" His words cut off, eyes widening in shock as he feels your petite, but rough hands press against his mouth as you stand on your tiptoes, your body trembling. 

"Please… don't continue, I u-understand." Your voice sounded so pathetic and broken to the programmer as he listened to the minor hiccups that left your lips. "Hey, are you crying?" He mumbles carefully, going and caressing your cheek, feeling like his heart was stabbed with a pickaxe when he handles your damp skin under his fingers. Sebastian had only ever seen you cry once during the after-party of one of their band's gigs. Everyone was out cold from partying too hard, but Sebastian had woken up to use the bathroom, his head swirling from the alcohol as he staggered towards the bathroom. When he reaches out to grab the doorknob, he is shocked to see it swing open, his sleepy and intoxicated eyes locking with your surprised, tear-filled ones. "...Sam broke up with me." After staring at each other for an eternity, you whispered to Sebastian. 

Scowling at the memory, Sebastian cups both sides of your face, carefully rubbing his thumbs in circles across the bags under your eyes, most likely due to the lack of sleep you have suffered since the breakup. "Hey…hey shhh. Don't cry, Y/n, oh come on, princess, look at me." He cooed, his face inches from yours as he made eye contact with you. "Oh Y/n, you poor thing…geez, why didn't you come to me if you were suffering so much?" You couldn't say anything to the man before you as you cried, feeling your throat ache with each pathetic sob. You look up at Sebastian, his eyes no longer holding that annoyed and lazy look this time; they're much softer and filled with love and compassion as he gives you a small smile. "I-I'm sorry, Sebastian, I don't mean to," He cuts you off, pulling you into a tight embrace as he carefully rubs circles along your back. 

"Shhh, don't apologize, Y/n." He whispered, nuzzling his chin against the top of your head as he took in your scent, his heart racing as he gave your body a small squeeze of reassurance. "Just cry it out for me, okay?" He asked, a small smile ghosting his lips as he felt your body starting to relax. "There we go, that's a good girl." As the words left his lips, you heard the door to the Saloon open, causing whoever just left to hear everything. You go to pull away from Sebastian's comforting embrace, not wanting to have people get the wrong idea. However, his grip suddenly tightens as he rests a hand on your head, pressing your face further into his chest. "Y/n? Sebastian?" Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, your body stiffening as your heartbeat against your ribs. Sebastian rubs circles on your lower back once again as he lets out a lazy hum while looking over at his best friend and Penny standing just inches away from the two of you. 

"Oh hey…you two going home for the night?" He asked with a bored tone, utterly different from the gentle, caring one he had with you moments ago. Your mind starts to wander off as you think back to his words from earlier, finally processing. 'Princess? Good girl?' You thought your cheeks were quickly heating up as steam practically danced from your head, heart pounding as embarrassment overcame you. 'W-what the hell was with that?! A-and this current situation…oh no, Sam's going to get the wrong idea-!' Your rapid thoughts are put to a dead halt as you feel Sebastian's hand suddenly slide down to your ass, his palm gently rubbing circles along the squishy flesh before giving it a slight squeeze causing you to jump as you hid deeper into his chest. "Y/n? Are you okay?" You heard Sam question with that sickening sweet tone he would use when you used to date, indicating he was worried for you. 

"She's fine, just had a bit too much to drink tonight, right, Y/n?" You felt Sebastian dip his head close to your ear, his warm breath hitting your already flushed skin as he quietly whispered his following words. "Right, sweet girl? Be a good girl for me, and nod your head so he can beat it." He growled the last part as his grip on your ass tightened, causing a small whimper to leave your lips while the man chuckled. You do as told while slightly peaking past Sebastian's arms, your eyes still teary from your minor breakdown moments ago. "Y-yeah, Sebastian's right." This earned you a small reward as you felt his thumb carefully rub circles along your hip. You said nothing after that, internally praying for the two to leave so you could hurry up and return to the farm. Your thoughts soon drifted as you inhaled the smell of Sebastian's hoodie; he smelled of cigarettes and motor oil, hinting that he must have been working on his bike at some point today. You felt your mind get fuzzy as you nuzzled closer to him, causing the man to stiffen as his arms squeezed around you, resting his chin on your head again. 

Sam stood there momentarily before nodding, a nervous smile crossed his face. "Ah, I see! I was just about to walk Penny home. Do you want me to take Y/n back to the farm for you?" Sam asked, his eyes only leaving your form to glance at his best friend for a second. "Nah, I'm going to take her back home. You worry about getting your girl home." Sebastian laughed, though you felt his annoyance as he tapped a finger against your skin. Sam hesitated momentarily before complying when he felt Penny tug on his sleeve. With a slight frown, Sam nods his head while giving you both one last look. "Right…get home safe then." The two walked off, leaving you and Sebastian alone outside the Saloon. You listened as he let out a deep sigh, his entire body seeming to relax as he carefully rubbed his hand up and down your back while letting out a small laugh. "Finally, I thought he'd never leave." he joked, arms still holding you close. You felt yourself growing hot as you carefully tried to pull away. 

"U-um, Sebastian, I should get home now." You whispered, avoiding looking up at him. Sebastian hummed, tilting his head to look down at you, his eyes narrowing as a lazy smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, that's right, I have to get my good girl home~" He cooed, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him in shock, your mouth open to shout who knows what at him. Still, he was ready for this as he went and pressed his lips to yours, one hand carefully capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger as he tilted your head up to deepen the kiss. At first, your body is stiff from shock, your mind trying to process how all this was happening as your wide eyes stared straight into Sebastian's narrowed eyes. He smirked against the kiss as he pressed your body closer, his free hand trailing up and down your side, causing your body to relax as you slowly gave in to the feeling. 

The two of you slowly pull away from the kiss, a small string of saliva still attaching your lips as he presses his forehead against yours, his hand carefully caressing your cheek. "Are you lonely, baby?" He whispers, brushing his lips against yours, his eyes filled with desire as he slides his thumb down your lower lip, watching the plump skin tug with his digit, causing him to lick his lips. "Do you want me to take care of you, sweet girl? I can fix that lonely feeling, Y/n." His words cause you to shiver as a small whimper leaves your lips, tears filling your eyes as you feel your chest swell with joy at his praise, your ears wanting to hear more of it. "Come on baby…tell me what you want like a good girl." He kisses along your jaw as his hands ravish over your squirming body, eagerly awaiting your response. You bite your lip as you try to think of the consequences if you take the man in front of you home. You look up at him with a slight pout on your lips as he gives you a lazy smirk; however, his eyes hold nothing, but admiration mixed with lust as he stops, his hands gripping your hips with one last squeeze. "What's wrong, princess?" He whispered, feeling your hands grip at his hoodie. 

"Sebastian I…I want you to take me home." 

_______

As soon as the door to your house shut, Sebastian was all over you. His hands roamed around your body as he slid them up your shirt, kneading at your encaged breasts as he breathed a deep sigh into your ear. "S-sebastian, wait! We just walked in!" You cried, trying to push him away but failing as he went and pressed your front against the wooden floor, grinding against your ass as he leaned over you, licking the shell of your ear. "I'm sorry, princess, but I can't wait anymore. You're just too fucking cute." He growled, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he unclipped your bra, watching your breasts bounce with each grind of his hips. "So, fucking perfect princess." He whispers, going to pinch at your hardened nipples, earning a slight squeal out of you as your hips move back against his, causing him to bite his lip at the sudden friction. 

"Fuck do you like that Y/n? Does my sweet baby girl have sensitive nipples? Do you like me playing with them between my fingers like this?" He laughs as he gives a rough pinch to them, causing your back to arch as a low moan escapes your lips. "Y/n, do you want to know a secret?" He whispers while flipping you onto your back, making sure to grab each of your legs as he wraps them around his waist, pressing the bulge in his pants against your clothed pussy, a slight blush on his cheeks as he looks down at you with a lustful gaze. "I've always wanted you. From the moment you moved here, I wanted to make you such a good girl who I could spoil." He admitted while sinking to leave kisses from your neck towards your chest as he carefully started sucking on one breast, an intense shiver running through his body as he listened to your moans, feeling you squirm underneath him. 

"Sam didn't deserve to have you princess." He moans his teeth, lightly biting the sensitive bud, causing you to let out a small cry, bucking your hips up to meet his own, causing him to chuckle as he pulls away from your breast with a small pop before sitting up straight. "Such a good girl~" He purrs while slowly pulling down your jeans, his lips trailing kisses down your thigh to your ankle as he lets out a small gasp, his eyes locking with the wet spot soaking through your panties, just begging for him to lick it all up. "Such a good girl, Y/n…" He whispers while sinking his head between your thighs, pressing a small kiss against the slick-coated fabric, causing your pussy to twitch as you watch him with hooded eyes, small pants of anticipation leaving your lips. "How long has it been, princess?" He whispers before dragging his tongue up and down the fabric slowly and tormentingly. "When was the last time someone made this pretty pussy of yours feel so good?" he growled while tearing the material out of the way, his tongue invading every inch of your dripping hole. 

Your eyes shoot open as you slap a hand over your mouth, a deep groan leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure jolting throughout your body as your muscles tense up. "F-fuuuuuuck." You cry, a hand reaching out to grab at his dark locks. He grabs your wrist, stopping your movement with a slight chuckle as he pulls away from your pussy. Your juices make his mouth messy as he slowly licks his lips, shaking his head. "Uh uh~ answer my question, princess…when was the last time a guy was inside you?" He leans over your body, lips inches from yours, slowly slips a finger past your folds, rubbing teasing circles around your clenching hole. You whine from the act while wiggling your hips, wanting to feel the digit deep inside you. "Come on, baby~ Just answer my question, and I'll reward you like the good girl you are." He teased, eyes clouded with lust as he tugged at his pants with his free hand, letting out a small groan from being so pent up. 

You look at him with a slight pout as he bites his lip, almost reaching his breaking point from how adorable you looked underneath him. "S-since Sam and I dated…I haven't fucked anyone else, so please…mmh…please make me feel good, Sebby~" You made sure to drag out the little nickname hoping it would give you some reaction, and boy, were you right. Sebastian clenched his teeth together, eyes narrowing as they clouded with pure desire as he licked his lips. "Since Sam, huh?" He asks a hum towards the end. Your eyes widen as your mouth forms an o when you feel his rough and lengthy finger sink deep inside you, causing your back to arch as you grip his biceps, watching his eyes travel down to his hand. "Then my poor baby hasn't been satisfied in so long…" he whispers before sliding another finger inside your needy hole, watching as his fingers go in and out each time, coated in a new layer of your beautiful juices.   

"You're doing such a good job baby, oh such a good fucking job." he moans, watching as your body squirmed underneath him while feeling you needily clenching around his fingers, causing his cock to twitch in his pants as he growls, biting into the crook of your neck. "Princess, look at me, sweetheart." He breathes while carefully adjusting your gaze onto him. "Did you know he used to brag about you all the time?" He confessed, eyes locking with your clouded ones as he slowly freed himself from his pants, a slight hiss leaving his lips as his cock sprang against his chest. "He used to tell me all the time how sexy you were…" You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hear the man fingering you talk about how your ex used to praise you to others, finding yourself disgusting for getting aroused.

 

"He was right but failed to mention how cute you are. Such a cute and obedient pussy~" He sang, a cocky smile on his face as he watched your body shiver underneath him, watching your eyes tear up as your pussy clenched around his fingers, indicating that you had found your release. Sebastian whispers sweetly into your ear as he slows down his fingers, still pumping them through your orgasm. "That's it, princess…such a good girl for me~" he praised while placing kisses all over your cheek as you frowned, trying to get the words to leave your mouth between heavy breaths. "I-i'm not… I'm disgusting." You whimpered, allowing your inner thoughts to come out. Sebastian frowned at this as he went and pulled your legs over his shoulders, causing you to squeak as he removed your limp body closer to him. "W-what are you doing?" You cried, still trying to come down from your orgasm as you pushed at his abdomen. 

Sebastian says nothing as he slowly slides his tip along your wet folds, watching the juices mix with his precum. "He's tried to ruin you…" he mumbles while positioning himself against your throbbing hole, his eyes slowly locking with yours as he grits his teeth. "Be a good girl for me, okay princess? You'll be my pretty little slut and take it all, right?" He smiles at his words while capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss before sliding his cock into your tight hole, causing you to whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, a few tears escaping from your eyes. Sebastian groans, his rough hands sliding up and down your hips reassuringly before pulling away his brows knit together as he kisses the corner of your lips. "So good, Y/n…such a good girl for me, princess." He mumbled, slowly moving his hips as he watched each pleasurable expression cross your face at the feeling of him inside you. 

"S-sebbyyyy," You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck while needily placing sloppy kisses along his neck, causing him to laugh in adoration, loving how cute you were being for him. "What is it, princess? What does my sweet girl want me to do?" He happily lends you his ear, so happy to hear you moaning out his name like you did so many times in his fantasies when he sat at home jerking himself off in the basement. You look up at him, lips swollen from him kissing you so aggressively, cheeks flushed as a bit of drool slipped from the corner of your mouth. "Please move! I wanna feel good!" You whined desperately, causing a soft and caring smile to appear on his face. "As you wish, princess." He whispered before pulling away from you, legs still tossed over his shoulders as his grip on your hips tightened. 

You gasped and moaned as his thrusts became more aggressive, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your squishy walls filling your mind as you tossed your head back, your loud and pitiful moans echoing throughout the quiet and dark house. Sebastian looks down at you, a slight blush on his cheeks, his breathing heavy as he watches your fucked out expression, his cock twitching inside you as he brings one of his hands to your chest, giving a squeeze as he desperately tries to thrust as deep as he could inside you. "Smile for me, baby~ ah, come on smile! Fuck show me that pretty smile, baby~" He whined, watching as you brought your head to face him, your expression causing him to swallow back a loud moan as he felt himself about to cum at just the sight. You looked up at him; the moonlight barely lit the area, showing your eyes shining from the tears of pleasure that had dampened your soft skin. Your cheeks were so flushed as drool slid down your chin when your lips tugged up into a fucked-out smile as you reached your arms up to cup his face. 

Sebastian looked down at you with wide eyes, his mouth open in awe as he felt his chest swell with nothing but love for the farm girl. "Sebby~ Am I a good girl? I did as told please tell me I'm a good girl!" You whined, feeling his cock hit that one spot you needed as you reached your second orgasm causing your tongue to stick out at him, his eyes turning feral. "Fuck princess…yeah, you're such a good fucking girl, alright baby." He suddenly pulls out, causing you to let out a needy whine, having not had enough of his cock inside you just yet. "Whose dick do you like more princess? Mine or Sam's?" He suddenly questions before slamming his entire length back inside your sensitive pussy, ignoring that you had just released for the second time that night. 

"It's mine right princess?" He growls, watching your tits bounce up and down at his faster pace. You can't say anything too fucked out by the intense pleasure you were receiving. Sebastian grunts and groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels his cock wanting to paint your walls so pretty with his cum. "Come on baby say my dick is better. Come on, say it! Say it, oh god, say it with those pretty lips of yours, Y/n~" He whines, sticking his tongue out as he captures your lips in another sloppy kiss, listening to your lewd juices echoing throughout the house, his mind going crazy. He pulls away from the kiss, watching the strings of saliva fall back onto you, his heartbeat pumping through his ears as he pried your mouth open with two fingers. 

 "Say it for me, princess, and I'll give you such a good reward~ Just say it, baby. Come on, be my good, naughty girl~" He whined, desperate for you to say the words that would show him you no longer belonged to his best friend and that you were now finally his perfect girl who would do anything to be praised by him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you start feeling the knot in your stomach for the third time that night. The words barely leave your lips above a whisper, but he can still hear it. "Y-Your dick, Sebbyyyy! Mm, I like your dick more, Sebastian!" A deep growl leaves his throat as he presses his hips right against yours feeling himself ejaculating into your messy pussy, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels your walls clenching around him. You lay there too fucked out of your mind as you felt his cum filling your insides, a happy smile crossing your face as you watched Sebastian unconsciously try to push any cum that leaked out back inside when he pulled out. 

"That's my good girl~ so perfect for me~" He muttered while picking you up bridal style, leaving kisses along your face as he took you to your bed, carefully laying you down as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face. You hummed, tired eyes looking up at him as you leaned into his touch. "I'll grab you some water," he mumbled, giving you another kiss before heading towards the kitchen. As he patiently waited for the glass to fill, he noticed his phone going off, causing him to flip it open and look at the name of the person trying to call him. 

Sam

"Yeah?" Sebastian muttered, holding the phone up to his ear as he stopped the running water, making sure to have a tight grip on the cup, not wanting to break it. "Hey, I was calling to see if you made it home yet! I know you said you were taking Y/n home earlier. Did she get back safe?" Sam's voice laughed from the other end, instantly asking questions. Sebastian enters the room, stopping when he sees your sleeping face pressed against the pillow. He smiles quietly, walking over to you and placing the cup on your nightstand. "Yeah, we returned to her place a while ago." He admitted waiting to see if his best friend caught the fact he said 'we' instead of just you. Sam hesitates for a second, causing a slight smirk on Sebastian's lips as he awaits the blond's following words. 

"Are you still at her place then?' 

Sebastian just hummed as he sat on the edge of your bed, carefully playing with a strand of your hair as he looked down at you, eyes filled with love. 

"Of course, I'd still be at her house. After all, she's my girl now~."

[sweetshuga]

𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✧ 𝑪𝑺 [𝑪𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕!]

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

roomie!chris! Your first time with your roommate.

Contains ⚠︎ Smut!, strong language!, suggestive remarks!, pet names, p in v (unprotected—do not), low-key breeding kink, size kink, use of vibrator (m!), handjob, hint of edging, overstimulation (m!) n’ whatnot. ⚠︎

wc. 2.6k (2654)

note. English is not my first language! [Fanfic] [Series]

"Look, we started dating just a few days ago, and–and I don’t want you to think I’m only after your body—" you silenced him with a searing kiss, swallowing any further argument. A low groan left his lips and into your mouth when you grazed the vibrator against the painfully stiff tent in his sweatpants.

Your lips trailed down his chin and along his jawline, making him take shuddering shorts breaths with each kiss. "Are you sure, ma?" The slightly breathless tone made your inner walls clench in anticipation, your clit aching almost painfully with need.

His head fell back and to the side to give you more room to work with. "Mm, I think I’m sure, wouldn’t be doing any of this otherwise," you chuckled before continuing, "but I must say, you’re really turned on right now, ain’t ya?" He hummed an agreement to your teasing, not denying it. After all, how could he? With the way he was rock hard already would’ve betrayed every lie. 𓆩♡𓆪

"Kid, I’m busy right now, what do you want?" You answered the phone, only to get laughed at. "Whatever, I’m hanging up—" "Wait, wait, c’mon, I wasn’t laughing at you— just don’t hang up please?" You bit back a chuckle and uttered a faux reluctant "alright" to which he replied with another chuckle.

"Don’t worry, I won’t take too long, ’promise," he paused for a few seconds, as if to think what to say next, "right, was just thinking of stopping by a mini-mart on my way back, y’want anything?" Humming as you tapped the armrest of your study chair, "actually, yeah, I need a black pen and um, could you get a few snacks bars?"

"Oh, okay? ’s that all? Y’sure you don’t need anything else?" Smiling to yourself as you hummed a yes, "mhm, that’s all." You could almost hear him smile, "alright then, I’ll be there in a bit." You bid him bye and hung up, stretching languidly in your chair before resuming on working on your assignments.

𓆩♡𓆪

Chris walked in and closed the door behind himself, and he froze when he finally looked at you. You were changing with your back turned to him, standing in a light peach coloured frilly set, putting on a loose t-shirt and cotton shorts. Your hair was damp – indicating that you had a shower before he arrived.

Clearing his throat as he set the bag of things on the study desk, making you turn around to look at him. "Oh you’re back," you said nonchalantly as if you weren’t in your undergarments just a few seconds ago. "Y-yeah, I’m back." Chris tried his best to hide his flustered state, but the slight stutter in his voice gave it away.

You were just about to grab a pair of socks when something caught your eyes, a bulge forming in Chris’ sweatpants. You raised your eyebrows, a small smirk painted on your face, "hm?" You hummed in amusement, taking your gaze back to his face.

Chris looked at you confused, an eyebrow raised and a small confused grin before looking down and immediately covering his boner with his hands. Looking back up at you with wide eyes and a subtle hint of blush on his face. His grin was gone, now replaced with a slack jaw; it opening and closing like a fish out of the water.

"I can explain," a lame excuse really, but you nodded anyway, "yeah, go ahead." Barely suppressing the smirk on your face from growing as you crossed your arms, waiting for him to speak. "You– you can’t expect me not to get turned on when the girl I like was just standing right in front of me in a sexy set of underwear in my favourite color." He mumbled, uncharacteristically quiet.

Your smirk widened by a fraction, amused by his words. "Oh? So it’s my fault?" He quickly shook his head, "no—yeah, I mean no, it’s not your fault... c’mon, ma, don’t tease me like this," he looked pained, like he didn’t know what to say. You burst out laughing, "you’re too cute, c’mere," you plopped on your bed, patting the space beside you.

He hesitated before sitting down beside you, still having his hands hovering over his boner in a futile attempt to hide it. You gently tugged on his wrist, "lemme help you with it." His breath hitched audibly as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, "what?" He mumbled dumbly, making you repeat yourself, "lemme help you."

You coaxed his hands away from the taut fabric of his sweats, humming to yourself before you reached towards your nightstand. Opening the small drawer to retrieve a small black box—which Chris knew immediately what it was. "You... you’re not thinking of using that, are you?"

Your smirk grew, but instead of replying you simply opened the box to reveal the small black vibrator. His adam’s apple bobbed visibly as he gulped, shifting in his seat—feeling his pants grow tighter. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. He was so incredibly turned on to the point it was starting to become painful.

𓆩♡𓆪 A small wet patch formed on his sweatpants from his steadily leaking precum, the sight only fueling the need to tease him further. Putting the vibrator aside for a bit to take his sweats off, his abs clenched and unclenched when your knuckles grazed his lower abdomen. You tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants, "up," you commanded, and he lifted his hips slightly.

The moment his sweatpants and boxers were pooling at his ankles, a quivering exhale left his parted lips. His hefty length stood tall and proud, leaking beads of precum from the swollen taut tip. You almost, almost, felt bad for him when you saw how hard he was, but you weren’t done teasing him yet.

Smiling to yourself as you grasped the base of his thick shaft, giving it a few good pumps, eliciting a low moan and a slight jolt from his hips. He let out a withdrawn groan when the vibrator buzzed on the sensitive head of his cock. "Mm, does that feel good?" Your teasing only seemed to make him more excited.

"Fuck—yeah, feels so good," he moaned lowly, gently grasping your hand – that’s holding the vibe over his tip – and guiding it in small slow circles. "Just like that... fuck, mmfh—" You chuckled and let him guide your hand, biting your bottom lip as you felt yourself grow wetter at the erotic scene in front of you.

Chris threw his head back, jaw clenched and one hand propping himself up behind him as he leaned back—the other one still guiding your hand. You started to move your free hand up and down his shaft, in time with the slow circles of the vibe on his leaking tip.

His jaw went slack as breathy moans left his throat – almost sounding desperate – his hips jerking as he tried to control himself from thrusting up and fucking your fist. You suppressed a smirk and started to move your hand a tad bit faster, gripping his length a tiny bit tighter.

That small difference in speed and tightness seemed enough for his sensitive dick, his hips bucked up in time with your hand as profanities and moans exited his lips. "Shit—ma, m’gonna, fuck, fuck, wait—" you stopped your movements, earning a small groan of annoyance from Chris.

"Why’d you stop?" He breathed out, eyes glazed with pleasure and lips parted slightly. Your gaze raked over him appreciatively, "what? You told me to wait?" You teased on purpose, a small smirk playing on your lips—betraying your attempt at acting coy.

Chris clicked his tongue, mumbling quietly, "I didn’t actually mean for you to stop." Instead of teasing him like you wanted to, you decided to give him what he wanted. His eyes rolled back when the vibe suddenly buzzed louder and stronger on his tip, your hand pumping him quickly.

His thighs trembled as he held your wrist, trying to stop you from moving your hand as loud cries of pleasure echoed throughout the dorm room. "Mm, be quiet, you don’t want everyone to know how much of a mess you are right now, do you?" He put his free hand over his mouth, muffling his moans as you worked him to the brink of insanity.

You chuckled when you noticed how shaky his breaths had become – how much his body was jerking and knew he was close. Turning the vibe to maximum vibrations all while pumping his shaft quickly for a few seconds more and he was already convulsing. His eyes rolling back once more as his hips bucked up with each rope of cum.

"M-ma, no more, please," he whimpered as he tried to push your hand away, already getting overstimulated. You gentled your touch and turned off the vibrator, tossing it somewhere on your bed. "Yeah, you okay?" He nodded, tossing an arm over his eyes as he lay there on your bed; his release all over his abdomen and chest heaving with ragged breaths.

"Mm, think you can go another round?" He licked his dry lips, wetting them, "I don’t know... I need some time to recover." You stood up, smirking to yourself. The sounds of quiet rustling of clothes and soft thud of it falling on the floor caught his attention, taking his arm away from his eyes as he gazed at your now near-naked state.

Propping himself on his elbows as his cock twitched with renewed desire, already growing hard from the sight of your body alone. "Insatiable," you teased with a shit-eating grin on your face as you took off your bra, letting it fall on top of the rest of your clothes. You slid your panties down teasingly until it pooled at your ankles, stepping out of them.

"Jesus..." He breathed out, his pupils dilating as his eyes raked over your body appraisingly. "You’re so fucking beautiful, have I told you that?" You felt a flutter in your stomach, smiling a bit wider as you walked forward until you were standing right in between his spread thighs. "Yeah, plenty of times, but it somehow makes me feel that way every time."

Chris suppressed a groan when you settled on his lap, teasing him – yet again – by rolling your hips, letting his length slide up and down your slick folds. His hands flew up to clutch onto your hips, his fingers digging slightly as he tried not to cum right away.

You, yourself, couldn’t handle any more of the teasing you were doing and decided to just get on with it. His breath hitched in his throat when he felt you hovering over his cock, the tip of it pushing against your entrance, but not enough to go inside.

He waited patiently for you to sink down on his length, looking up at you with pleading eyes and slightly parted lips. His lips seemed more rosy than usual, his face slightly flushed and a thin sheen of sweat adorning his skin from his earlier climax. You helped him out of his t-shirt, your hand sliding down his chest towards his lower abdomen.

His body twitched and shuddered as your hand caressed his body, every inch of skin sensitized. You slowly sank down, taking him inch by excruciating inch. Chris squeezed his eyes shut as he held himself from thrusting up and pushing himself to the hilt in one swift motion.

You let out a breathy moan, feeling his hefty cock stretch you wide. You gasped and clutched tightly onto his forearms when he finally gave in to his desires and thrust up into you. Your eyes threatened to roll back from the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips.

He smirked at the change of your power dynamics, and his hips rutted up into you almost like a jackhammer despite his oversensitized state. "Wait, Chris— too much, too—too deep," you moaned loudly, unable to control your sounds as you clung onto him for dear life, your nails digging into his forearms.

"What? Can’t handle this, ma?" He taunted, his pace not faltering one bit, instead getting faster and rougher. Just as you were about to respond to him, your world blurred and sparks flared behind your eyes when he hit a sweet spot. He chuckled breathlessly, seemingly triumphant for his discovery.

He slowed his hips and thrust up into that spot again, making you clench around him—eliciting a hiss from him. "Here?" He drew back before thrusting up into that spot again, "oh, feels good, doesn’t it?" He chuckled at the way you seemed to unravel more from his words. Your moans becoming needier and more desperate.

Your body trembled as you leaned down, clinging onto him as he kept his thrusts languid, but deep. "You’re so big," you moaned close to his ear and you could’ve sworn you heard something snap inside him. Groaning as his hands slid down your back, grasping your ass in a bruising grip and starting to thrust up into you with renewed vigor.

Your moans echoed throughout your dorm room, only to get muffled by his lips in a hungry, demanding kiss. You found yourself on the brink of something big, something that was sure to make your mind blank. His pace faltered ever so slightly as he neared his own orgasm, groaning and moaning into the crook of your neck as he kept on going.

Your mind blanked, the corners of your vision turning white as you orgasmed hard. Crying out in pure ecstasy as your pussy spasmed rhythmically around his pistoning shaft. That was enough for him to topple over the edge, spurting rope after rope of warm cum deep in your quivering pussy as he thrust up in time with the waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

You fell limp onto his heaving chest, your own chest heaving with exertion. His release trickled out around his shaft, which was still buried deep inside you, proving to have filled you to the brim. He felt a sudden sense of satisfaction knowing his spend was buried deep inside you, enough to knock you up, and that thought made him shudder in excitement.

"I think we’ll get noise complaints from the other students after this, with how loud we both were," Chris chuckled, his smile reaching his eyes and arms wrapping around you, almost protectively – bordering on possessiveness. "Mm, I don’t mind, they’ll just know exactly who made you feel so good."

A small amused laugh escaped your lips, your smile wider than before as you responded back with a playful comment about him being too much. "Too much or just enough? ’Cause I remember a certain someone unable to keep their volume down from how good I was fuckin’em— ow, what was that for?" He chuckled, feigning hurt when you pinched him.

You laughed softly, despite your attempt at being annoyed, knowing full well that you couldn’t actually stay mad at him. You stayed like that for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms and still connected. It was an intimate moment that made butterflies dance in your stomach.

A moment full of love and contentment. And that’s when you realised just how deep your feelings went for the guy laying under you, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on your back, a soft adorning look in his eyes as he gazed into yours. You smiled warmly before connecting your lips together, kissing him tenderly and pouring out your love languidly against his lips.

"My pretty girl," he murmured against your lips, "mine, all mine and I’m yours, forever," and you wouldn’t want it any other way. "Mhm, forever," you echoed his word, making him smile wider. He leaned in for another kiss to seal your vows. Mine and yours forever.

𓆩♡𓆪

taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss

© sweetshuga

[lenacosse]

False god

pairing; jake peralta x reader

word count; 2,500

cw; smut, arguing

summary; reader gets extremely insecure and jealous, instead of talking it through her and jake argue which leads to fucking.



a/n: im backkkk. so sorry for the lack of posting for the last two months, ive been so preoccupied but i hope to get properly back now. also omg try not to make a post about a ts song mission= failed. can’t resist.

‘and you can’t talk to me when i’m like this

daring you to leave me just so i can try and scare you

you’re the west village

you still do it for me, babe.’

════════════════

Your relationship with Jake wasn’t perfect, although to the eye of many that wasn’t obvious. You seemed utterly head over heels, and whilst that was the truth you, like any other couple had problems. But to the extent was not normal, most couples talk it out, that’s never been your method. The problem was Jake’s friendliness, before you got together you loved that about him, it was after all how you got together. You loved how he would talk to everyone, you loved how he made people laugh, but now that you sit in a crowded restaurant gritting your teeth watching your boyfriend make the waitress laugh, he told a joke, a joke first told to you, your gaze was fixated on him, the crease by his eyes as he laughed, the nod of his head as she spoke, but worst of all the prolonged eye contact they held and how her eyes glistened as they done so.

Swiftly you finished your wine, you cleared your throat and the waitress turned to you. You nodded your head to the empty glass, right away she excused herself with the glass to get you another.

“She’s lovely,” you grinned, the sarcasm seeping through your words.

“It’s the Peralta charm, she couldn’t help laugh at my joke,” Jake teased, resuming his meal. You near scoffed at the audacity of him, deep down you knew he was being harmless- a mere joke, but you couldn’t help the insecurity inside of you get the better of your mind. You and Jake have been together for two years, the longest you’ve both been with someone, your biggest fear is that Jake will get bored of you, so interactions like this had your mind running wild- reaching to the worst possible scenarios.

For the rest of your meal you were barely listening to Jake enthuse about his week at work, he talked about his perps, his drug busts and the banter within the precinct. Instead you were in your head, imagining the end of your relationship, more specifically Jake leaving you for someone much prettier and funnier. He’s never not been loyal, he’s never given you an reason to feel this way, yet you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t turn off your self sabotaging mind and that was a slow undeniable killer.

“Are you okay?” Jake said, snapping you back to reality, concern written over his face, his eyes gentle and comforting.

“I’m fine.” You replied. “Just tired.” You couldn’t shake the coldness of your words. Jake reached over the table to grab your hand, you sighed and moved your hand away, feeling too indifferent to talk about it. You could see the disappointment building in his eyes.

“Let’s go then.” Jake said as he stood up grabbing his jacket and pushing his chair in, you paid the bill and got into his car.

A deafening silence fell over you both for the first few minutes of the car ride, you didn’t know what to say, you were worried that if you started to talk you would end up fighting. The car stopped at the red light, you found your eyes wondering over to Jake, one hand on the wheel the other tapping on the dashboard as he starred out the window, his eyebrows were knitted together in a frustrated manner and his body was tense. He glanced at you and instantly your eyes hardened.

“What did I do to upset you this much?” Jake asked, his voice firm.

“Nothing.” You mumbled looking down at your lap.

“Then why are you acting like this? I don’t understand the night started great now you’re distant. Do you not like me anymore or something?”

The emotion in his voice had you heart aching, you couldn’t understand why your mind done this to you, from a rational perspective the interaction was harmless- maybe enough for you to sulk over, but not to this extent and you knew that. You nervously picked at you nails as you replied.

“Of course I do Jake- you know I love you. But it’s just..” you sighed, “I don’t know.”

He turned to look at you now, “just what?”

“You’re too friendly! That’s the problem.”

“Too friendly? What does that even mean?!” He laughed, you looked at him and instantly filled with rage.

“Don’t be stupid Jake. Don’t do that, you were flirting with that fucking waitress.”

The light went green and Jake drove again, his eyes were focused on the road as he spoke. “Flirting? Seriously. This again.” He sighed, “I’m not flirting with anyone.”

“Oh,” you scoffed, “it’s so fucking obvious! The fuck me eyes she was sending you, you’re not blind Jake anyone could have sensed it.”

“You’re seeing things. Seriously, tell me why would I do that?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!!”

“Maybe for once it’s not me, it’s you. You are the one causing the problem here not me.”

“As I recall you were the one flirting!” You fumed.

“Flirting or simply talking? Should I just stay away from all woman from now on?”

“You’re infuriating right now. Just fucking apologise.”

“For what?!” Jake raised his voice, “I didn’t do anything. I made me waitress laugh, you’re acting as if I asked for her number.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” You muttered.

“Really? You think I’d cheat on you.” Jake said as he parked the car outside his apartment complex.

You got out of the car slamming the door after you and Jake followed behind you. “Well would you?”

He punched in the code to open the complex door, you stood with your arms crossed walking with him. “What kind of question is that? Obviously not.”

You pressed the elevator button and stood beside him, arms crossed again and your body stiff with anger. “That’s not what I picked up on looking at you and that woman.”

“Y/N. I did not flirt with her. Get that idea out of your head.” Jake groaned, clearly becoming increasingly frustrated with you.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have that idea if you weren’t so fucking friendly!” You practically shouted. Your face flushed red with embarrassment as a couple walked out of the elevator, by the looks of your face you could tell they heard everything. The man gave Jake a sympathetic look which made you roll your eyes, his girlfriend elbowed him in response to that.

Jake walked into the elevator, you followed and pressed the floor number. “I don’t want to have this stupid conversation anymore. I didn’t flirt with her! And I’m not too friendly, there’s no such thing.”

“Oh yes there is. You are a prime example,” you scoffed as the elevator doors closed.

“You want to know what’s exhausting? This. I’m sick of you being so insecure.”

“Then break up with me.”

“What? No. Are you insane?”

“Go on. Do it. I know you want to, do it Jake break up with me.”

“I’d be crazy to break up with you.” Jake moved closer to you.

“I think you want to.” You starred into his eyes, deep down you’d be distraught if he broke up with you. But the thrill of keeping him on his toes outweighed that.

He grabbed your arm pull you closer to him. “Don’t say anything like that again. Ever.”

Your face flushed hearing him being so assertive, when Jake got this way you could swoon. You smirked and looked up at him. “Why? Does it bother you?”

“Everything you’re doing right now is bothering me,” he got even closer to you, your chest was pushed up against his front. “Trying to scare me off?”

“Is it working?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, you could feel Jake’s breath on your face, furthering the heat rising to your face.

“No.” Jake responded. He pushed you against the elevator mirror, your back hitting the rail. His hands firmly gripped your hips, sure enough to leave a bruise, your breath quickened as he lowered his head and smashed his lips to yours.

You got caught up in an intense moment, your hands went to his hair, pulling him closer as your leg rose to wrap around his waist. You were pushed right up against the mirror as you shared a hungry make out, his tongue fought and won dominance as it explored your mouth. One of his hands moved from your waist and hiked up your thigh and skirt. His finger edged to your panties, and started to slowly circle your clit. You gasped at the sudden pleasure, breaking the kiss. Jake kissed your neck however quickly stopped and moved away once the elevator door opened. You tried to fix yourself up and walk normally to his door, you impatiently waited as Jake opened the door, you could’ve swore he was being slow to tempt you. You walked in first, wasting no time you grabbed his tie, a rare thing to see Jake in and pulled him to you.

His hands met your waist, he smirked. “Eager?”

“Shut up.” You replied.

As you kiss Jake backs you into his room, pulling down your top to reveal your bra and down onto his bed. Using his tie again you pull him on top of you, you remove his tie and make a start at unbuttoning his shirt. His lips meet your neck as he marks you, his hand travels down your body resting in between your legs, he moved your underwear aside and shoves two fingers inside of you. You cry out at the abrupt movement but quickly it turns to an override of pleasure, Jake moves from your neck and watches your face as he roughly fucks you with his fingers, curling them to hit that perfect spot, as if that wasn’t enough he circles his thumb on your clit. The pleasure making your legs shake and vision blur, the sounds coming from your mouth were incoherent, your whole body was trembling in pleasure. The pleasure continuing to build you knew you were close, you felt yourself ignite and be overcome with pleasure but just as you were about to finish he pulled his fingers out.

“Jake-” you whined but was quickly stopped by his fingers going into your mouth. You sucked his fingers, you couldn’t help but heat up at the taste of yourself on his finger. Jake removed his fingers and kissed you hungrily, his hand moving to your breast and rolling your nipple in between his finger over your lacy bra. You pull his shirt off and break the kiss, to mark his collarbone.

“Marking territory?” Jake teased as his hand slipped under your and effortlessly undone your bra. As you pulled your head back he removed your top and bra.

“Seems as if I have to.” You scoffed, Jake grabbed your jaw.

“As I’ve said before I’d never cheat on you.”

You rolled your eyes in response, he let go of your jaw and moved to your ear. “We’re not leaving this bed until you realise it.”

His voice was enough to make you squeeze your thighs together but the words spoken had you stifling a moan. Jake kissed down your neck, you arched your back pushing your body up onto him, desperate for pleasure. You grab his hand and bring it in between your thighs, hoping for pleasure from him.

“What do you want?” Jake asks, his eyes bearing into yours.

“You.” You responded, biting your lip. You could see it in his eyes, he was tempted to take you right there but resisted, much to your dismay.

“Be more specific,” he slowly moved his finger to brush against your clit, you hissed at the sensation.

“I want you to make me cum with your fingers. Then,” you moved your hand into his hair, tugging. “I want you to fuck me.”

“So demanding. Not even a please?”

“Are you going to or not?” You raised an eyebrow, Jake smirked and inserted two fingers into you.

You senses once again filled with pleasure from Jake roughly moving his fingers, you moaned his name feeling the pleasure override you. Your legs trembled as using his thumb he rubbed your clit. A continuous thread of moans left your mouth as you came undone, you vision whitened as you released, your body going into a state of utter bliss. Jake removed his fingers and took your skirt off, your hands made quick work of removing his belt and trousers. You watched eagerly as his cock sprung out with the removal of his boxers.

You moved your hand down to slowly stroke him, he softly groaned in response. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders as he slid into you, your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you adjusted to him. Right away Jake began to pound into you, one of his hands held your thigh as the other gripped the headboard making him completely tower over you, you watched his face contorted in pleasure. The room filled with the sound of your bodies joining together and your lustful moans, you knew trying to conceal them wouldn’t work, so you let it happen, not that anyone would complain Jake loved the sound of your moans. Jake fucked you like he’s never done before you wouldnt’ve been surprised if your bodies left a permanent dent into the mattress, that was only furthered when he moved your legs to rest over his shoulders allowing him to go deeper. Your mind became numb with pleasure, the only thing you could focus on was the immense pressure between your thighs.

Jake pushed your chin up to look at him, your eyes were pricking with tears as you got closure to release. “Believe me now?”

“Not quite.” You moaned.

This only fuelled Jake more to the point where the bed was slamming against the wall and tears of pleasure were streaming down your face, you felt the pleasure override you.

“So close.” You moaned.

“Cum for me,” Jake said, his voice dripping with pleasure, that itself sent you over edge.

The euphoric sensation washed over you yet again, your vision blurred as your entire body shook, never had you felt this way before. Jake continued, cashing his own release as you slowly came down from that high, however it wasn’t long until you felt it building up again. Jakes movements got strained as he got closer, again you came and white hot pleasure overcame you. Jake came inside you, moaning into your ear. Slowly he pulled out and lay beside you. You both starred at the ceiling, catching your breath. He turned to you and tucked your hair behind your ear, you couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto your face as you turned to face him too.

“Believe me now?” Jake teased, stroking your cheek.

“I always did I was just in my head, totally worth it though,”

“Totally worth it though; title of your sex tape.”

“Jake.” You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.

✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.

✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!

✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.

 I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki. 

 Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.

 Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive. 

 Which I have no issue with fulfilling. 

 My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life. 

 However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born. 

 It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing. 

 I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me. 

 That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision. 

 How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.

 And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage. 

 This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction. 

 It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot. 

 I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival. 

 As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task. 

 Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going. 

 To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present. 

 Maybe tonight reminds him of her? 

 “Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response. 

 The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me. 

 His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks. 

 The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty. 

 But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished. 

 “Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”

 Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them. 

 Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition. 

 Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed. 

 That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture. 

 However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made. 

 So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties? 

 All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view. 

 As always, dinner is silent. 

 Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment. 

 If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan. 

 I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.

 My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction. 

 As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.

 When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together. 

 She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.

 I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that. 

 Not likely. 

 I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why? 

 Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward. 

 Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak. 

 I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”

 “It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me? 

 “There is something I would like to discuss with you.”

 “It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.

 “Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze. 

 He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”

 “Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”

 His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage? 

 This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond? 

 The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.

 No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.

 I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife. 

 But how long?

 How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?

 How long? 

 It possibly couldn’t be more than a year. 

 This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic. 

 However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.

 “Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings. 

 I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”

 “We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”

 “Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew. 

 I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.

 So, I continue. 

 “I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”

 My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way. 

 “If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded. 

 I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love. 

 Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this. 

 Not with Byakuya. 

 By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good. 

 But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning. 

 Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed. 

 I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind. 

 Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him. 

 “Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”

 “Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”

 I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”

 “For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”

 My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed. 

 “You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”

 “But… why?” I questioned. 

 “Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”

 I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”

 “Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement. 

 “It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us. 

 “Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”

 I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”

 “Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans. 

 “You’re being ridicu—”

 “That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”

 “Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”

 It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I. 

 Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter. 

 But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall. 

 Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous. 

 I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before. 

 “Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”

 “Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone. 

 He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh. 

 “I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”

 I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”

 “I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”

 “My lord… please.” 

 He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”

 He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day. 

 I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms. 

 I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—

 “May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core. 

 His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me. 

 When he is like this–I do not loathe him.

 “You may.”

 Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.

 How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so. 

 My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not. 

 He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more. 

 This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched  onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again. 

 Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing. 

 Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans. 

 We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me. 

 “Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to. 

 I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on. 

 My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.

 He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not. 

 No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers. 

 “My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back. 

 “You are art, Y/N.”

 “Address me as your lady,” I demanded. 

 “Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”

 “Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly. 

 His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight. 

 He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste. 

 Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking. 

 He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain. 

 “Am I up to your liking?” He quips. 

 I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”

 The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered. 

  He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers. 

 I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt. 

 I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release. 

 Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me. 

 He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name. 

 “Byakuya…”

 He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”

 “I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”

 “Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me. 

 He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers. 

 Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for. 

 There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before. 

 “Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred. 

  “But I have barely touched you, blossom.”

 I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

 “You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”

 “Yes.”

 “Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”

 “Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.”  

 The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.

 “Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”

 “Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand. 

 I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me. 

 For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise. 

 Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance. 

 I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him. 

 He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls. 

 “I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts. 

 I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”

 Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness. 

 I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement. 

 My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating. 

 “You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”

 “More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”

 “So desperate for my come, are you?”

 I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.

  I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets. 

 Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.

 He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue. 

 “When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”

 I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”

 “So come for me, blossom.”

 His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings. 

 I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release. 

 Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me? 

 How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life? 

 “You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”

 “Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”

 “I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”

 “Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”

 “And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”

 Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.

 Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.

 Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt. 

 But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat. 

 An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year. 

 “I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence. 

 I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”

 “For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”

 His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”

 He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”

thank you for reading. reblogs, comments, and likes are well appreciated. if you enjoy my work, please be sure to check our my masterlist for more. ෆ

[nepentheansea]

Pacify Her

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content!

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ・𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

premise: The devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him.

pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

warnings: dark elements, toxic obsessions, possession (but not the scary supernatural kind) smut (p in v-fingering-etc) tom riddle (his own warning) there is probably a lot more...

wc: 4.2k

a/n: this is beautiful and I don't care if you don't agree. shoutout to @demiguisemoon for keeping me company throughout this ride.

enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!

He never truly knew what you were capable of, or more so what his influence would do to you, and that was the problem. He had completely underestimated you, and that would be not only your downfall, but his as well. Pretty and pliant, that's what you were to him, the perfect match, not only intellectually, but emotionally as well. You suited him. From the moment you stumbled into his compartment on the train, down to the moment that you sat down in front of him, not a word muttered, but yet a conversation was had. You understood him, and quite frankly, he understood you, or so he believed.

No one understood him the way you did, the way that you clung to his every word like gospel. Feeding into his absurdities, but never once looking at him as if he was wrong. You supported him. Truth was you were obsessed. Incomplete and broken without him, much like a wounded bird, someone he could fix, take care of, mould into something he wanted, and you lived for it. Lived for the moments that he taught you, helped you, controlled you. The moments where he needed you and only you. At his beck and call in the late hours of the night, or for the favours that could ultimately get you expelled, for anything he wanted, and you’d do it, obediently. You were his. You belonged to him from the first moment, and though neither of you knew it, he belonged to you. 

“Is this seat taken?” You asked, slipping into the compartment faster than he could respond, but he didn’t. He pulled his nose from the daily prophet to study you. He had never seen you before, which was odd considering you were in his house, the green and silver snake adoring your breast, a Slytherin, and a pretty one at that, an old soul and kindred spirit…of sorts. There was something in the way you looked at him, that dutiful look in your piercing eyes, a look as if you could see into the deepest darkest depths of his soul, something he was certain he had well hidden, and yet what you saw didn’t alarm you. Somehow it didn’t scare him, it intrigued him, you intrigued him. He watched as you slid the door closed behind your back, before sliding into the seat across from him, hands trapped behind your back, and your head cocked to the side as you studied him. The slightest of smiles on your face. He should have known then, known what you would become to him, but he could never have suspected you to be as such.

Frail and malleable, obsessed and devoted, and you were his. His star, his pet, his property. You grew to need him, unable to do without the moments you shared with him. You found yourself lingering in the back of his classes, hoping that he would catch a fleeting glimpse of you, needing you for something, anything, to utilise you, need you. For the moments that he’d call for you in the late hours of the night, for the small favours that could leave you expelled or worse, with the promise that nothing bad was going to happen to you, he wouldn’t let it. The hours that you spent with him, soon turned to days, weeks, stealing away any moment that you could, eager to please, to be close. Somewhere in the dim candle light of his office, stolen glances, gentle touches, words exchanged. Finding yourself desperate for the after hours of study in the library, the ones where you could find him making his way from the restricted section, his pretty nose stuck within the pages of his books. Knowing you were there, dutifully watching him, waiting for the right opportunity to seek him out or for him to call for you. 

Your life had become dull. Classes lacked challenge, you found little to no enjoyment in day to day activities, your friends became distant memories, dramatic, but even your mundane routines lost flavour. All you had was him, and the little periods of time you spent by his side. At his beck and call, seduced by the ways he consumed you. Your mind, your body, and most definitely your tainted soul. He knew it too, knew that he could use you for anything his heart desired, that you would do nothing but obey him, follow blindly if he requested it of you, no questions to be asked. A perfect pawn, follower. The more eager you became, with the incessant need to do more, be more for him, he took to it. Giving you more and more to do. It had soon become a list of tasks, simple favours as he would call it. Hide this, seek out this, do this…And you did, you did all of it. 

Your blood rushed as you closed the office door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes scanned the dimly lit room until you found him. In the centre of the room, sat plainly in his chair, eyes roaming your eager figure. He looked as though he sat on a throne, one of his own creation, his arms extended out on the sides of the chair, comfortable and yet cold, observant. “Did you get it?” was all he said, leaning forward over his desk, the faintest traces of a smile on his face when the stifled giggle of yours fleas from your lips. You held it up, in the palms of your small hands presenting it to him, the book he had sent you to find. Restricted, forbidden even, and you had managed it, with his help of course. “Of course.” you whispered. He beckend you over with the bend of two slender fingers, and you moved on your own volition, approaching him with such eagerness. He took the book from your palms, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin, and you wonder if it was on purpose. “Good girl.” There it was, the praise you strove for, the praise that came from him and him only. The slightest flick of his wand had the door clicking locked, as his eyes came to study you once more. There was a fascination in his gaze, the way his eyes softened to you, desperately trying to hide the hunger that he felt towards you. You had something that he had never quite found in anyone else, something that made him crave you more than he had for anyone else…and there it was, the thought that you were his and only his. 

His eyes left you, meeting the pages of the book you had stolen for him, consuming every word on the stale worn parchment. While he was entranced, devouring the text, you were devouring the sight of him, leaning over the desk, eyes droning over the pages. He was stunning this way. The crease in his brow, eager to learn, and you were right there with him, desperate to know just what held him so captivated, leaning over his desk in hopes of catching the slightest bit of the contraband he had tasked you with stealing, no concern for what could have happened to you if you had been caught. But you knew that somehow, if that had been the case, he would have protected you, always, he would be there. His eyes darted up from the page, a lustful hunger to them, but for you or for the knowledge he had been enthralled with, you weren’t sure. “Look.” he instructs, slumping back in his chair, gesturing to the page, the hints of a smile on his lips. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned over the mahogany desk, feeling the hem of your uniform riding up in the back, exposing yourself to him as you did your best to read what was before you, eyes focussing on the text of ancient runes. It wasn’t of much use, you simply couldn’t read it. “I can’t read it, sir.” you mutter, chancing a look back at him. His eyes were shamelessly crawling up the length of your bare legs, and to the swell of your ass. He had looked at you like this before, that strained look in his eyes, like he was in deep thought but those thoughts were ones that he would never quite say aloud, the smallest of smirks on his lips, as he dragged his tongue along them. “I see..” he remarks, slowly pulling his gaze away from your ass, to meet your much more innocent gaze. It was one of his favourite things to do. To teach you, to watch you learn from him. It gave him the sweetest sense of power and meaning. “And what would you have me do about that, darling?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but that flick of amusement dancing across them.

“Read it to me?” It was a simple request, your voice strong and confident. You wanted to know, wanted him to show you, and he seemed to like the idea. Tom hummed, a sweet sound of satisfaction, as his slender fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, pulling you down onto his lap, a gesture he had never quite done before. He was confident in his motions, calculated and collected. He knew what he wanted, and that was you. His hands remained on your hips, fingers drumming on your thighs. “Read it to you, hmm?” He hums, delicately brushing a strand of your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your throat. Goosebumps lining your skin, while his other hand trailed slowly up your bare thigh. Gentle touches that were purposeful, and well measured. Even in this, he was in control. In control of himself, and of the situation. “How will you ever learn if I just read it to you?” “Teach me then..” you blurt, your voice had never been so soft, so demanding and yet desperate. “Sir..” you add, looking back at him. His thumb had started to draw soft slow patterns on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “Teach you….” You could see that he was mulling it over…”teach you…” he cooed in approval, a sinister grin consuming his face. “Very well, darling, teach you, I shall.” He gave a hearty squeeze to your thigh, your breath hitching and your body tensing for a brief moment in his lap, shifting your attention back to his face. Pretending as if he couldn’t see the way your eyes studied him, the way they seemed to have heart shaped iris that were only for him.  

His own gaze was casted past you, eyes scoured the pages before him, looking for something suitable to turn into a lesson. His hands still wandering aimlessly on your skin. “Here…let's start simple…” He leaned back enough, turning to look at you, his breath fanning across your lips from being so close. His eyes trailing up your features until his eyes met yours. “This rune here…” he starts, grasping your jaw with his index and thumb, turning your face, back to the book. “This rune…’othilia’ corresponds to the Latin letter…?” “o.” you state, looking to him for approval, his approval. A soft smile was all he gave you. “And what do you think it means…” His hand, resting under your skirt, had found its way to the crease of your hips and thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh, while his thumb thrummed against your clothed cunt. You found it hard to concentrate, to really look at the shapes on the page, but you had to. “Um…power, wealth?” you tried, letting out a breathy sigh, when his thumb found its way into the damp fabric of your panties, rolling soft circles into your swollen clit. You felt his lips against your ear, your head lulled back against his shoulder. “It means, heritage, possession..” he punctuated the last word with a flick of his thumb, a gesture that had a sweet moan falling from you. With precision he gently rolled his finger over your bud, nipping at your ear with each sweet sound you let out. “Focus….” he coos, drawing your half lidded eyes back to the book. “This one, ‘mannaz’,  tell me its correspondent…” Your mind was muddled. He had pulled the wet fabric away from your cunt, traipsing his slender fingers through your folds, collecting your sweet arousal, teasing your entrance as he waited for your response. “Go on…what is it.?” You hummed softly, searching your mind for what it could possibly be. “Um..it’s ‘m’ the latin ‘m’..” you whimpered, feeling the intrusion of a single digit slipping into your sopping heat. He was rewarding you, with each correct response you gave him. “And what does it mean?” 

You weren’t sure how much of this he really thought you could handle, not with the way that his finger was slowly thrusting in and out of you, his thumb languidly massaging your tender clit. He was watching you, his own gaze lidded, dark. Hungry. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way that he had you, pulling answers from you with simple touches. “Don't make me stop, what does it mean?” he teases, and yet somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you knew that he would. That he would leave you high and dry at a moment's notice. Your eyes had fallen closed, summoning all of your strength to answer him, as he slipped another finger into you, curling them against your sweet spot, just to feel your breath hitch and your body shutter in his grasp. You could feel the way that his cock had hardened beneath you, kept from you by the confines of his trousers, and it did little to help you focus any, it was cruel. “It means…ma-man?” you gasped out, his pace increasing. His lips met the side of your neck, tenderly kissing every bit of exposed skin that he was presented with, careful not to leave a single mark on that delicate skin of yours. “Very good..” he coos, his hot breath felt on your neck and ear. His fingers toyed relentlessly with your aching cunt, his thumb circling your clit gently, and his lips littering chaste kisses to your exposed skin. He had quickly given up on the lesson at hand, now far too consumed in the way that you were writhing happily in his grasp, soft sweet sounds escaping past your lips. Your back arched into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you lost all coherency. Lewd sounds left you like a sinful prayer, trickling past your lips with no real power to stop them. 

You whined, feeling the emptiness in your cunt as he pulled his fingers from you, only to have them brought up to your chapped lips, as he slid not one but both fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the pad of your tongue. A silent order, to taste yourself, to clean up the mess that you had made, and you did without hesitation, closing your lips around them, letting your tongue lap up any and all of the arousal that coated his fingers. He cooed, sweet and simple praises, between delicate chaste kisses to your neck. His free hand wanders the expanse of your neck, down to the top of your blouse, deftly popping the buttons one by one. His touch was featherlight, a mere ghost over your skin, and such a thing allowed for goosebumps to litter your skin. His thumb circles your nipple through your thin bra, smiling against your neck as it perks at his touch. He loved the possession he had over your body, the way you would let him do whatever to it as if it was his own, and you would argue that it was. That it belonged to him, that you belonged to him. 

You weren’t sure when it changed, the suddenness of it all, but you found yourself being gently laid down against the hard polished wood of his desk, your back draping over the materials he had been studying, and your skirt pushed up your waist. His body hovered over yours, his hands gliding up under the blouse that he had worked open, greedily exploring the exposed skin, his head ducked and lips ghosting over the spot his hands had touched mere seconds ago. Your eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, relying on your other senses completely. Gentle kisses, soft bites, and languid movements of his tongue as he dragged it up your sternum and neck, taking in the sweet smell and taste of your delicate skin. You arched into his touches, soft sweet sounds escaping you at every one. Each of your senses flooded with nothing but him. His lips were pending over yours, a silent acknowledgement, that everything would be on his terms, and you were okay with it. 

He didn’t bother to kiss you, and you didn’t request it of him either. 

Tom made quick work of removing his trousers, before his hands slid up your thighs, fingers ghosting over your cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you present in the moment. He hooked his fingers over your panties and pulled them aside, the cool air hitting your bare cunt, a soft hiss escaping your lips.  With his free hand, Tom wrapped his slender fingers around your chin, using his index and thumb to pull your face up to his. His eyes were cold, animalistic desire dwelling past the dark shade of brown. He tilted your head down so that you could watch the way his swelling cock slid into your tight cunt, forcing you to understand that he owned you, now in body as well.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, the unrelenting feeling of him stretching you out was nothing shy of pain, but a sweet sweet pleasure. He watched your face, mocking the way you fell silent, with a sly smirk to his perfect lips. He forced you to watch every sinful inch of him disappear deep into your greedy cunt, time and time again. He wanted you to understand, to grasp the claim he had on you. You were being rewarded for your diligence, for your obedience, and he wanted you to know that you were his, only his. No one else could touch you like this, that's what he was saying to you. 

Tom let go of your face, as he gripped your hips, jerking you towards the edge of the table. Your hands fall back to support you, arching your back slightly as you watch him with lidded eyes. As he moved, his pace picking up with each passing moment, you began to lose yourself to the delicious drag of his heavy cock, your sinful mantra of moans and whimpers filling the dark empty spaces of his office. His fingers gripping onto the soft pliable flesh of your thigh and hip was bruising, another simple yet effective reminder of who you belonged to. 

He watched each little tick of your face, each pleasure filled twitch of your lips as you fought off a smile at the feeling of him, taking in each little puff of air that left your parted lips, each pant and moan of satisfaction. He coaxed nothing but the best out of you, building your release at his own desire, his own pace. Your head fell back, your eyes falling closed as you did. You were consumed by the feeling of him and your body was reacting to it in the only way it knew how. 

You felt his hand leave your thigh first, before feeling it wrap around your throat, his long slender fingers wrapping around the curve of your jaw, as he willed you to look at him once more. 

“You keep those pretty little eyes of yours…on me,” he whispered forcefully. There was no room for mistake, you would watch him as he possessed every part of you. He controlled it all, and you’d let him, you’d let him do it forever. 

That's when it all changed. 

He had been sweet seduction, and the thought alone drew you closer….until she came along. Professor. Hawkethorn had never been his match, not the way you were. She didn’t understand him, she didn’t see him for what he truly was. She had fallen trap to his charm, and that was only the surface. You watched it happen, your late night sessions with him faded, he seemingly didn’t need you as much, and he gave not even the slightest inkling why. He said nothing, entertained nothing, did, nothing. His time seemed occupied, but not by you, by her. Selvine Hawkethrone, the new history of magic professor. 

Fine, checkmate. He didn’t want to see you? then you would make him. See you at your fullest, see that you were always there, that you had never left, and more importantly, that you were still very much his to possess. 

He needed to see you, not her. He had no business with her, she wouldn’t do the things that you did for him, you were certain of that. She was only a disruption, a threat to what you guys shared, and she had to go. You wanted to show him your devout loyalty, the extremes that you were willing to go to keep him, to protect him, to *serve* him, and so you would. 

You sat in *his* chair, his office dark and cold, nothing that you minded, as you waited…waited to hear the sound of polished heels clack on in the smooth stone outside the door. You pulse steady as the door opens, a small sliver of light filling the room. 

“Tom?” her soft voice echoed off the shelves of books, as she warily stepped inside. Once the door was shut, you waved your wand lazily, the candles that surrounded his office springing to life with a dull crackle. Her eyes met yours immediately, and they widened almost as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. She looked fearful. You had a crazed look in your eyes, as you looked over her in silence. She was pathetic, dressed in her best clothes as if she was expecting to meet Professor Riddle, and that's exactly what you had told her, in your little letter. Told her to meet you here, that you desired to see her, all pretending to be your dear dear professor, and she fell for it. Pathetic. 

“You don’t deserve him….” you said, your tone hollow, as you watched her flinch slightly. “Did you really think that he would want you? Send for you? Come on Selvine…you have more sense than that…” you continued, pulling yourself to stand up, walking around the desk, your fingers taunting the flame of the candle. “Professor…you were never going to be his match, his equal…he is destined for great things and you were never going to be the one to help him fulfil that…your just….” You gestured to her with the tip of your wand as if to say something cruel, your face contorted in disgust. “Weak, you're just plain….ordinary…” you said, a mock tone of pity, your face in a frown. 

Selvine said nothing, but reached for her wand slowly, not sure what to expect from you, but you saw it…”ah ah ah, don’t do that..” you warned. You were now pointing your wand directly at her, your grip firm and unwavering. You take a deep breath, tired of this moment…Selvine opened her mouth to say something but you were quick to silence her, ”Save it professor, you shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.” 

You flicked your wrist and a green jet of light bursted out of the tip of your wand without remorse. You watched with glassy, transfixed eyes as her lifeless body crumbled to the floor with a thump. The simple unforgivable curse stealing what small pathetic life she had out of her. She was gone. Dead. you lowered your wand to your side, and stood there, slightly shocked by what you had done. 

Tom had slipped out from a dark corner of his office, one where he had stood, watching the entire thing transpire before his eyes. His cold gaze watching you as he approached. Your eyes snapped up to meet him, startled, and unaware that he had been watching the entire time..but that meant that he had seen it, seen the lengths you would go to just for him. You had used the unforgivable curse, for him, something that you had never done before.  

You felt yourself soften, at his appearance, as he stepped over the lifeless body like it was nothing but scum beneath his foot as he approached you. Gripping your chin like a child as he pulled you to meet his gaze. He almost looked pleased, a small sense of approval in his tepid gaze.  

“You can't tell anyone, Professor, I did this for you...she was a threat, and I took care of it, I killed her for you...for us.” you pleaded softly, scared that you had upset him. 

The darkness he lurked in had always been seductive, and when he held out his hand to guide you, how could you say no. You followed, eyes never leaving his, entranced by the beauty of it all, the beauty of the power and knowledge that he possessed. And he was going to share it all with you. It was then that you knew, the devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him. “I won’t tell anyone, it's our little secret.”

[airaibunny]

PRAISE/SOFT/ETC SMUT PROMPTS

1. “i need you, right here/now”

2. “i’ll go slow/i’ll be gentle”

3. “tell me what feels good”

4. “do you trust me?”

5. “do you like that?”

6. “please teach me”

7. “i want you, now”

8. “you look so pretty on your knees”

9. “it’s okay, im right here”

10. “i got you”

11. “don’t hold it in, it’s okay”

12. “don’t call me that, that’s what everyone else calls me”

13. “we can go for as long as you want”

14. “does it taste/feel good?”

15. “you’re doing so well”

16. “i want you, now”

17. “i love you so much”

18. “i want you to fuck me, *name*”

19. “you look so pretty right now”

20. “don’t stop yourself, let me hear”

21. “please don’t stop”

22. “do you want to take it off of me?”

23. “do you want to touch?”

24. “can i touch?”

25. “what about you?”

26. “let me do it for you”

27. “does that feel good?”

28. “you’re so cute”

29. “like that, i like that”

30. “can i touch you too?”

31. “am i going too fast?”

32. “can you do that again?”

33. “do you want more?”

34. “your *body part* are/is so pretty”

35. “do you want to stop?”

36. “i’ve wanted this for such a long time”

37. “aw, poor baby, do you want me to take care of this for you?”

38. “kiss me, i don’t care where”

39. “i don’t care where you touch me”

40. “i don’t care what you call me” - “can i call you mommy?”

41. “are you comfortable?”

42. “let me help you”

43. “do you need help?”

44. “keep going”

45. “you taste so sweet”

46. “do you want to try?”

47. “breathe for me”

48. “you’re doing such a good job”

49. “i’m so proud of you”

50. “tell me what you want”

51. “let me try”

52. “don’t cover up/don’t be embarrassed”

53. “i want you to touch me”

54. “you sound so pretty”

55. “turn around for me”

56. “louder”

57. “quieter”

58. “you look so hot right now”

59. “play with me”

60. “i’ve been waiting all day”

61. “harder, please”

62. “i think i deserve a reward”

63. “you’ve been so good lately, you deserve a reward”

64. “i love your tits/ass/etc”

65. “you’re the only one that gets to touch, pretty girl”

66. “this is exactly how i imagined it”

67. “keep doing that, please”

68. “you feel so good”

69. “kiss/touch me, everywhere”

70. “you’re so gorgeous”

71. “i want you to keep going, forever”

72. “you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”

73. “i want to do so many things to you”

74. “you look amazing, really, but i think i prefer the dress on the floor”

75. “i need you”

76. “i love making you so flustered, you get so cute”

77. “do you like it when i touch right here?”

78. “let me eat you out while you do that, please?”

79. “can you teach me?”

80. “can i call you mommy?”

81. “shower with me”

82. “i want to taste you so bad”

83. “i don’t care how, i just want you to touch me”

84. “i want to feel you inside”

85. “you’re not going to fall, i’ve got you”

86. “you looked so hot out there”

87. “breathe, please"

88. “you’re being such a good girl for unnie”

[cornsoupflavour]

Dear, Mr. Manager (Twice NSFW Smut)

[ Sick Day Pt. 2 – See Pt. 1 ]

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Momo Hirai x Manager!Male Reader

Tags: 3.9k words, wholesome, manager x idol, multiple creampies, phone sex, romance, mutual masturbation, caught in the act, date, squirting, slight comedy

"Hey girls... Back already?" you asked, Momo still impaled on your softening cock, her tits pressing against your chest. Jihyo, who was at the front, slowly and silently closed the door as the girls opted to wait outside till you two were done. You and Momo shared a quick and embarrassed glance as you both scrambled to get up and get dressed. However, the two of you weren't able to keep too far apart from each other, sharing a passionate kiss or two amidst the scuffle. Once you were done, you left the room as Momo stayed. She gave you a floating kiss as you left. Outside, you bumped into the rest of the girls.

"Mr. Manager!" Nayeon gasped as the others shook their heads in embarrassment and disbelief. "We expected so much better from you..." Tzuyu pouted, as she walked in with the others. Jihyo stayed behind, closing the door so the girls couldn't hear your conversation. "Y/N, I–I can't believe this..." she brought her fingers to her nose bridge, "...alright, what's done is done– I'll have a talk with Momo and see how she feels about this. If I get any semblance that she was coerced, or forced, or anything like that... You. Are. Dead. You hear me?"

Despite being her manager, Jihyo still knew how to strike fear into your heart. Perhaps it's the overall Muscle Mommy vibe. You nodded in acknowledgement of what she said. "Hope you two had a good time... we might have to request for new bedsheets now..." she sighed, waving you off. You watched as she entered the room before making haste back to your car. As you sat in your car trying to process the events of the day, you decided it was best for you to drive home and maybe give the girls some space for a bit.

About a week or so later, you get a text message from Jihyo. "Y/N, I'd like to schedule a meetup with you. It's important." Immediately, alarm bells started ringing in your head and you accepted the meetup request. As you arrived at the meetup venue, you noticed Momo and Jihyo sitting at a table. Oh shit, did you knock Momo up already? Damn, this is bad... You enter the venue and take a seat at their table, an awkward silence surrounded the three of you.

"Hello, Mr. Manager. Momo here has something she wants to tell you." Jihyo started, not doing much to help ease your anxiety about the situation. You braced yourself as Momo opened her mouth.

"Mr. Manager... I'd like to... pursue a romantic relationship with you..." Momo confessed. You sat shocked, your mouth agape. That’s it? Phew... "Momo... Are you sure? Have you spoken to Jihyo about this?"

"She has. And she is a grown woman, I can't really dictate who she wants to date, I'm not her mom. But I am here to make sure your managerial duties remain done appropriately despite being with Momo. Can we agree on that?"

"Yeah, of course. I think this will only keep me closer to you guys if you guys need any help or whatsoever."

"Good. I guess you two are dating now... Thank goodness for the lack of boundary–breaking paparazzi... I'm sure in some other universe, you two would be screwed."

"Well, we did screw each other~" Momo joked, Jihyo's face scrunching up as she cringed. "Momo, that's the worst attempt at a joke I've ever heard you say," Jihyo shook her head, playfully repulsed by Momo's terrible sense of humour.

You shared some last few exchanges before Jihyo got up, followed by yourself and Momo. As the three of you parted ways, you decided to take Momo out on a proper date. You booked a fancy restaurant, and drove Momo back to her shared apartment with Nayeon. You walked Momo up to her door as she went in to change, Nayeon gave you a flirty wave as the door opened, prompting a playful punch by Momo.

"Nice suit. You guys heading out for a date~?" Nayeon asked teasingly.

"Why yes, we are. Wanna come?" you returned the same attitude back at her. Nayeon nodded approvingly as she returned to her own activity. You couldn't help but feel nervous as you waited patiently. You've had your fun on that fateful day, but now it's the time to take things slow, and you didn't know if you were up for the challenge.

Suddenly, Momo walked out of her room, her hair flowing down onto her chest, wearing an elegant but dominating, figure–hugging blazer dress, she was absolutely stunning. Your heart skipped a beat as she approached you, her eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You stood frozen, your lips quivering.

"Momo... You look... gorgeous..." you complimented her, your eyes digesting her entire look. Nayeon gave the two of you a knowing glance as you extended your arm out to her. As Momo locked arms with you, you walked her back to your car and set off for the restaurant. Upon arriving, you were seated at your reserved table.

As you ordered, the two of you talked about everything – from your childhood to your dreams, and even shared your favorite movies, songs, and TV shows. It was a comfortable silence as you both laughed and enjoyed the small talk. The food arrived, and you took turns feeding each other, causing the other diners to give you judgmental stares.

The two of you decided to keep the PDA to a minimum as to not rile up the other guests. "Momo, are you okay with me taking this slow?" you asked, wanting to make sure she was up for a steady pace.

Momo swallowed her bite, setting the fork down before responding, "Of course. I appreciate you taking the time to get to know me outside the stage... especially since it felt like we skipped a few steps the last time..."  Her eyes shone with contentment and reminisce as her hands reached for yours under the table, her thumb caressing tracing circles on the back of your hand. "I'm excited to see what's in store for us," she added, her smile bright, showing her eagerness for the future.

As the night went on, you decided to end it with a little stargazing session. You drove to a nearby cliffside parking lot. The two of you climbed onto the hood of your car and gazed upwards into the forever–expanding vacuum that was space.

"I hope you had a good time tonight, Momo."

"I did, Mr. Manager..." she responded, her body leaning onto yours.

"Please, call me Y/N."

Momo gave you a wide and warm smile as she nodded. Before long, your lips connected under the starry night sky in a deep and loving kiss. A manager dating an idol under his name is often considered taboo, but who's really keeping up with the semantics of it all?

It was late and was about time for the both of you to get home. You helped Momo back into your car as you drove back to her apartment. "What's your address, Y/N?" Momo asked you. "I hope I'm not making you drive too far..." her burrows frowed in concern.

"Oh don't worry about it, Momo. I actually don't live too far away from you. So once I get you back home safe, I can just drive back to my place." 

"Momo, before we get to your place, I have a question for you. If we're gonna be together, I want to make sure we're on the same page. Do you want to keep this a secret for now?"

Momo thought for a moment. "I'm okay with that, for now. Let's keep it between us, Y/N." She gave you a reassuring smile, your fingers still entwined with hers as you drove. The two of you reached her apartment. After walking her up to her apartment, she unlocked her door. "You want to come in for a bit? I'm afraid that you might be too tired to drive..."

"It's alright. I'll be okay. Plus, I don't wanna bother Nayeon," your lips curled as you bid her farewell. But not before sharing a hungry kiss. You walked back to your car and drove back to your own apartment for the night. You went through your nightly routine before noticing you received several texts from Momo, with the inclusion of some spicy pictures.

You laid in bed, your phone illuminating the room as you scrolled through Momo's texts. You bit your bottom lip as you admired the pictures she had sent. Before you knew it, your phone buzzed, a notification that Momo was calling you.

Your heart raced as you answered the call, "Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N..." Momo whispered, her voice sensual and inviting. "I'm going to do something naughty~ Wanna see?"

"Oh? And what might that be?" You replied, trying to maintain your composure.

"I'm taking off my dress..." she whispered, as she turned her video feed on. She placed the phone on her bed, leaning against the wall as she continued, "...and I want you to describe to me how hard you're getting just by watching me~"

Your breath hitched, the sight of Momo sensually stripping before you, her body on full display, was enough to send a surge of heat to your cock. "Momo, just the thought of you standing there, your dress sliding down, revealing your beautiful body... Let alone getting to watch it? I'm already at attention, baby... Aching to be inside you..."

Momo continued to undress herself and before long, you watched as the dress she wore to your date fell, pooling at her ankles. "It's off, Y/N. I'm standing here, all naked for you... you're making me so wet just by talking to me~" her voice was breathy, her need for you evident in her tone.

Your breathing grew heavy, your hand already making its way to your growing erection through your boxers. "Fuck... I wish I was there with you, Momo... I would worship your body, starting from your neck, making my way down, tracing my tongue along your collarbone, kissing those gorgeous, soft tits... It pisses me off that I can't..."

Momo moaned out loud, "Yes, Y/N, keep going. Make me feel it."

"I'd take one of your nipples into my mouth and hold it steady with my teeth. I'd be sucking on it, flicking my tongue over it, making you moan. And then I'd move to the other one, repeating the same until you're begging for more."

"Oh, Y/N..." Momo's voice trembled, "Please, please continue..."

You watched as Momo shifted onto her bed, adjusting the camera so it would capture the sight of her beautiful flaps as she began rubbing her body, the distinct sound of fingers against skin. 

"Fuck... Y/N, don't stop..." Momo began pleasuring herself as you continued to paint her a picture of your desires. "I'd slide my hand down, my fingers now trailing along the crease of your waist, feeling the curve of your hips. My hand would continue down, arriving at your wet slit, my fingers now parting your soft folds..."

"Y/N– Y/N, please... I need more..." Momo's voice was desperate, her need for you tangible through the phone.

"I would slide three fingers deep inside you, feeling your walls clench around me. I'd thrust my fingers in and out, mimicking the way I'd be pounding you if I was there, our bodies moving in perfect sync, my finger sliding in and out, your moans getting louder and louder."

"Y/N– That's it– Mmmh~" Momo's moans grew more intense, "Y/N, I can't... I can't, I'm going to–"

Her voice cut off as she threw her head back. Her cries of pleasure echoed out in her room. You watched as she squirted onto her phone, her body succumbing to the pleasure you'd given her. That squirt turned you on so much that it sent your hand moving faster around your erection, your shaft slick with precum as you prepared for your own climax. "Fuck– Momo, your voice... I'm gonna c–cum..."

Your bodies were in sync, both of you reaching your peaks, the sounds of your climaxes filling your rooms, your breathing heavy as you both came down from your high. "Momo..." You whispered, your hand still wrapped around your softening dick.

"Y/N..." Momo replied, her voice hazy and spent. "That was... amazing..."

"Momo, I don't want to bother Nayeon, but if it's alright with you, I can come back over, and we can continue from where we left off."

Momo hesitated for a moment. "I... I'd love that. But please, be quiet. Nayeon's a light sleeper."

You chuckled, "Oh no... I'm not sure I'll be able to keep quiet while you're riding me..."

You hung up, quickly slipping into a pair of shorts, throwing your hard–on back into your underwear. You drove back to Momo's apartment, your heart racing as you approached the door. You messaged her to let you know you've arrived. A few soft footsteps later, Momo opened the door, her eyes wide in surprise. "You came back~". Her tone was playful, her gaze traveling down to the bulge in your shorts. You slipped inside, moving with the grace of a stealthy ninja. You smirked, "I'll do my best to be quiet, baby~" you whispered, as you stepped inside, closing the door softly behind you.Momo guided you to her room.

Momo's hands moved to the waistband of your shorts, yanking it down slightly as her hands gripped your erection. She began stroking it slowly. "Mmm... I can't wait to have you inside me, Y/N."

You helped Momo onto the bed, your lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss, your hands trailing down her body, exploring her curves as you kissed her. Your tongue dueled with hers, your bodies eager to have each other. You guided Momo to lie down, your hand moving to her core. "Momo, you ready?"

"Y/N, I've been waiting for you all night..." She replied breathlessly.

You grinned, positioning yourself between her legs. "I'm sorry, I can't quite hear you... Do you want me to take you?"

"Y/N, yes... Take me." Momo's eyes pleading with yours, her body inviting you in.

You lined yourself up with her entrance, letting out a slow but purposeful thrust, your body merging with hers. You both moaned, the pleasure between you unmistakable. Momo's hands gripping your back, her hips meeting with yours.

Pleasure coursed through you both, the delicious sound of skin slapping against skin, your thrusts deep, your hips rolling in sync with hers, your bodies lit by the moonlight streaming in from the window, the two of you coming together in a dance of passion. 

"Momo– you feel so good..." you moaned softly as your lips began to claim hers. You both reached for each other, your fingertips digging into her flesh, the two of you locked in each other's gaze, your hips slamming into each other, a carnal symphony of pleasure.

Your breath hitched, your release imminent. "Momo..." you stammered, your thrusts growing faster, your body trembling.

"Y/N... Do it, let go inside me... Fill me up... my dear, Mr. Manager~" Momo encouraged, her eyes bright with lust, the two of you hurtling towards the edge.

You met her gaze, your thrusts hitting harder, your release taking over, your body shuddering, her name escaping your lips, both of you melding together as you came, your body spasms rippling through you, your release coating Momo's insides.

Momo's body shivered, her moans mufflered by your chest, your hearts beating as one. You collapsed on top of her, your breaths heavy and ragged. You gazed into each other's eyes as you two let out a few more sultry moans. Your lips connected once more in a desperate kiss as you hear banging from the next room over.

"FUCK– Y/N– NNNGHH~!"

Both you and Momo turned your heads slowly towards the wall, your mouths hanging in confusion and intrigue.

"Mmmh– Fuck... Shit, I just squirted all over the floor–" the voice suddenly paused, "–wait, can you guys hear me?"

You turned your head away and chuckled as Momo pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes. Nayeon– have you been listening to us the whole time?"

The voice went silent for a little. "Yeah, you kinda woke me up when you guys decided to have phone sex."

You broke out into a hearty laugh, unsure to be embarrassed or amused by the situation. Momo seemed to be playfully annoyed.

"Goddamn– you guys should do this here more often... maybe let me watch... that'd be nice, yeah..."

As Nayeon ran off to grab tissues from the kitchen, you and Momo shared another deep kiss before drifting off to sleep in each others' arms. The following day, you woke up and slowly detangled yourself from Momo so she wouldn't be startled awake. You gave her a quick kiss on her forehead before draping a blanket over her nude body. You made your way to the bathroom to freshen up for the morning. On the way, you pass by Nayeon's room.

"Mmmh– Nngh– Y/N... Just like that..." she seemed to be mumbling something in her sleep. Following your shower, you lent a bathrobe and headed to the kitchen to get started on breakfast. About an hour or so went by and the two girls finally awoke, Momo first and then Nayeon. Momo looked well–rested but Nayeon had an expression you couldn't describe. She stumbled over to the seats at the kitchen counter and waited for Momo to shower.

"Good morning, Nayeon. How was your sleep?"

"Morning Y/N– I mean, Mr. Manager... I take it as only Momo and Jihyo can call you that... but I only managed to sleep at like 3AM."

"I appreciate it, thank you. Oh no, why's that?"

Nayeon rubbed her eyes, before folding her arms on the counter and dropping her head onto them.

"I spent the whole night touching myself... to you."

You froze for a bit, your cheeks flushed. What a forward girl... In a way, you admired her honesty... but maybe some extra PR lessons in case... "W–Well, I'm flattered. But you know my current relationship with Momo, correct?"

She nodded, her eyes struggling to open. "I just wanna listen, is all. It's hot– You're both hot."

Your mouth hung open for a little, unsure of what to say. She's so blunt– Just then, Momo sauntered out of the bathroom, the towel she had on wrapping around her curves. She gave a slight wink before heading back into her room to get changed.

You gestured for Nayeon to head to the showers since Momo is out. She groggily dragged herself off the counter and waddled over to the bathroom. You shook your head slightly, amused at the different personalities of girls you've found yourself managing.

As you laid the breakfast out, Momo waltzed out of her room and walked over to you. She gave the breakfast a big sniff before turning to you and wrapping her arms around your neck. She pulled you into a spicy kiss as your hands gripped onto her waist gently.

"Mmmh~ Good morning, Y/N~ Is all this for me?"

"Well, you've gotta share some of it with Nayeon."

Momo gave you a teasing pout before grabbing a plate and picking which dishes she wanted to take. She playfully wiggled her plump jeans–clad ass in front of you like bait on the end of a fishing line. Tried as you might, but you couldn't resist her allure. You grabbed onto her hips and quickly pulled your cock out from its confines.

"Sorry, Momo... You're just irresistible..."

"Oh–!" Momo gasped as she felt the sudden sensation of your hands on her hips. Her surprise slowly turned into desire as you began to bend her over the counter. She placed her plate on the counter as a smirk appeared on her lips.

Momo let out a low, sultry moan, "Oh, Y/N~" as you freed her from her jeans, her ass now bared for you. You gave it a tight smack before letting your cock prob her entrance, her slick walls eagerly taking you in. Her moans grew louder, her hips gyrating as you slid in and out slowly.

"Ahhh, Y/N~" she cried out, the ruffles on her shirt fluttering. They danced with each thrust as her tits swayed beneath her shirt, the sound of your hips slamming against her plump ass filling the room.

"Mmmm– Fuck, Y/N..." she moaned, her voice shaking. "You feel... so fucking good..." Her words were punctuated by gasping breaths as you slammed into her, the kitchen counter digging into her chest, her breasts bouncing wildly with each thrust.

"Gnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop..." Momo's voice was desperate, her hands clawing at the counter, her body tensing with each thrust.

Your pace was frantic, your thrusts driving her towards ecstasy, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and Momo's moans escalating. "Fuck, Momo, I'm close..." you warned, your grip tightening on her hips.

"Y/N... Y/N, let it out... let it out inside me... Pump me full~" She begged, her voice thick with lust.

Hearing her request, you tangled your fingers in her low, messy ponytail and yanked it towards you, her head tilting back as her moans echoed. "Oh my, so rough~"

You hammered into Momo, your climax beginning to flow, the two of you approaching your own orgasms. Her moans grew louder, her body tightening around you. "Momo, I'm cumming..."

"Do it– Do it, baby~" she cried out. With that, your release took over, your thrusts hitting harder, your body shuddering. "Y/N~! Fill me up, Mr. Manager~ Pump all that seed into me~" your name escaping her lips as your release flooded her insides. Her body shivered, her moans muffling against the counter as you came together, your hearts beating as one.

You collapsed on her back, your breaths ragged. You held her close, lost in the afterglow. "Momo, you're incredible, I fucking love you..." you whispered, your heart racing.

The two of you slowly detangled and straightened yourselves out as Nayeon groggily walked out of the bathroom and back into her room. You helped Momo grab a plate of the breakfast you made, your lips connecting once more, your tongues exploring each other, savoring each other's taste. "Let's eat, baby," you said, gently guiding her to the table.

Momo's face was flushed, her eyes bright. "Yes, Y/N– let's eat." She smiled, the two of you sitting down to breakfast, your hands entwining as you enjoyed the morning calm.

Not long later, Nayeon joined the two of you at the table, grabbing her own plate. Her widened eyes suggested that your food tasted amazing. "Damn, Momo– you should have Mr. Manager here more often. We'd be eating so good."

You let out a chuckle as you finished your plate. You looked at Momo and asked if she'd wanted to join you to go run some errands. She nodded excitedly and went to grab her purse. You were left with Nayeon once more.

"Do you wanna come?"

"Oh– uhh, no thanks. I'll stay behind to finish the rest of the breakfast."

You both shared a laugh before Momo walked out with her belongings in hand. You stood up, locked arms with Momo and headed out. The two of you wandered around a nearby shopping mall together as you ran your errands. That was when you saw a familiar face.

"Mina?"

"Momo!"

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[scribesoflex]

idk if you taking requests, but can you do a smut where reader and stiles are in a secret relationship cause reader is scott’s brother, n like one day stiles is so pussy drunk that he’s a whimpering moaning mess. and then scott just so happens to walk in. THEN reader starts to try and get up to follow her brother once he storms out the room, but stiles holds her back and continues until they both cum? just a thought..🫶🏽.

(btw idk if you do anon emojis but if so can i be ‘🧟‍♀️’)

. • °🍼✧༺ 17+ smut below the cut !

stiles has always joked about how he’s a lesser man when it comes to you, crude comments about how he’d give anything to spend all day between your legs, making you squirm just cause he likes it.

but it’s times like this when you actually think stiles might be a feign for pussy – your pussy.

the bed creaks with every rapid thrust of his hips, sheet sheilding where your bodies connect but it doesn’t matter because you can hear the squelching from your sopping folds, and feel the wetness seep down your ass crack splashing across the backs of your thigs when his sack hits your skin. and even if you could see the sight of his cock sliding in and out of you, it wouldn’t matter because – well stiles looks like that.

pupils blown wide as he stares down at you, bitten lips parted enough to let whines and groans slip free every couple of seconds, incoherent praises causing your sweaty skin to flush even more. he’s sweating too, fluffy hair matted to his forhead, sticking up in places from your gripping it.

“jesus fuck baby, love this cunt so much” he mutters, eyebrows frowning as he stares down st you with a determined pout “gonna fucking cum right in this tight pussy, feels too fucking good” you clench around him, gummy walls molding to every ridge and vein along his girthy length, arching your back off the back in hopes to feel him even deeper – whining and crying out when he does.

he drops his face to the crook of your neck, hips becoming slightly sloppy, movements less smooth and more desperate — cock twitching inside of you now, his release definitely nearing.

“oh’baby fuck me so good, feels so amazing” he’s practically crying into your shoulder, thrusting so forcefully your body begins to scoot up the bed, headboard nocking against the bed rhythmically “ — never gonna leave your cunt babe, might cry’feels so good”

your about to moan his name out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when a creak sounds followed by a glass hitting the floor amd small whispered curse “oh shit!” he murmurs, and when you peak over stiles shoulder to lock eyes with ones that mirror your own, your breath completely leaves your lungs and sudden your trying to scramble away from stiles.

scott makes a face of disgust, throwing his hands up in the air as he spins on his heel, the sound of sneakers hitting the stairs loud as he stomps away “shit, shit, shit! stiles stop!” you cry, gasping when stiles shifts to his knees, pulling out to just the tip as he stares down at you with pleading eyes.

“gotta cum baby”

he slams back into you to punctuate his sentence, your jaw going slack in a silent moan, pussy clenching around his cock in a violent manner. your toes curl against the mattress, tears welling at your lash line – an overwhelming mix of embarrassment and pleasure taking over as he pounds into you so hard you’re worried he might actually hurt you.

you can feel the pulse and twitch of his cock against your straining walls, struggling to take him the deeper he goes, pressing your body so harshly into the bed you swear you hear the crackle of wooden planks beneathe your matress.

“s-stiles, it’s to-to much” you plead, mascara running streaks down your cheeks now, sweat and tears matting your hair to your face and neck, the sight making stiles go cross eyed, gripping the underneaths of your thighs as he leans back just enough to fold you in half, biceps rippling beneath his taut skin – prominent veins trailing up his fingers to his forearms, its enough to have your eyes rolling back into your skull, biting down on your bottom lip so hard blood fills your jaw, making you cry out in pain — but mostly because you’re cumming so hard that it drains the air from your lungs, stiles suffocating you with a wet and lazy kiss as his own orgasm creeps closer.

it’s not much longer before he’s becoming erratic in his thrusts, rhytm thrown a bump as he pumps his seed deep in your cunt, filling you so much it begins to spill put around the base of cock, and down his balls, making obscene noises as he pulls out with a weak hiss, dark eyebrows furrowing from the lack of warmth.

“maybe we’ll close the door next time?” he smirks down at your spent expression, brown eyes full of trouble.

. • °🍼✧༺ extremely unedited!

[bassmars]

submissive! neuvillette x gender neutral reader.

it’s been so long but I am back, I still love neuvillette. Matter in fact I got him a hydro goblet with 35 crit dmg I know I know…. Be jealous.

No proof read sorry if this is all messed up, wrote this pretty late too.. I might start posting more but who should I write about?

—————

Justice served hot

Sub! Neuvillette nsfw.

warnings: semi-public setting, mild exhibitionism, oral sex, penetrative sex (reader can either have a dick or like a strap on I tried)

"Not now, Y/N," Neuvillette murmured, his eyes never leaving the mountain of paperwork that had piled up on his desk. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cluttered room, the only sound being the scratch of his quill against parchment. Y/N, ever the persistent one, leaned against the heavy oak doorframe, arms folded across their chest. Their eyes, filled with a mix of longing and mischief, scanned the room for any signs of weakness.

Neuvillette's desk was a battlefield of legal documents, ink stains spreading like spilled wine across the once pristine surface. The scent of parchment and candle wax filled the air, a stark contrast to the faint hint of incense that usually lingered in the hallways outside. The judge's white hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd been running his hands through it in frustration, and the blue underside of his single strand was vivid against his pale skin. His pointed ears twitched slightly as Y/N's footsteps grew closer, the quiet thud of boots on the cold stone floor echoing in the vast chamber.

"Comeee onnnnn," Y/N whined, their voice a sweet symphony of seduction, "You've been buried in this stuff for hours." They stepped closer, the leather of their corset creaking faintly. "We haven't had any...quality time in so long."

Neuvillette sighed, setting down his quill with a delicate clink. He rubbed his eyes with his gloved hand, the blue fabric stretching over his knuckles. "You know how important this is," he said, his voice strained. "The fate of Fontaine is literally in my hands."

Y/N pouted, their eyes scanning the room as they approached the desk. They leaned over, their chest brushing against the papers, and whispered into Neuvillette's ear, "I know, but so is my happiness." Their breath was warm, sending a shiver down the judge's spine.

Neuvillette swiveled his chair to face Y/N, his gaze dropping to their mouth. "And what would make you happy right now?" His voice was low, a challenge wrapped in velvet.

Y/N smirked, their hand sliding down to graze the bulge in Neuvillette's trousers. "Well," they murmured, "since you're already sitting..." They knelt down, pushing aside the chair slightly, and flipped the desk's edge up, giving them the perfect access.

Neuvillette's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. He looked over his shoulder at the door, then back at Y/N. "Here? Now?" His voice was a mix of surprise and arousal.

Y/N nodded, their grin growing wider. "Why not?" They leaned in, capturing Neuvillette's bottom lip in a teasing nip. "It's not like anyone's going to walk in, right?"

Neuvillette's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, his pointy ears turning a darker shade of red. He glanced at the clock on the wall, the ticking sound suddenly very loud in the quiet room. "Almost time for the next session," he murmured, trying to regain his composure.

Y/N's pout grew more pronounced, their eyes shimmering with a hint of desperation. "Are you really going to leave me like this?" They whispered, their hand still playing with the fabric of his trousers.

Neuvillette sighed, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. "I have to, Y/N. You know how much is on the line for these cases." He began to stand up, but Y/N's grip tightened, their eyes pleading.

"C'mon," Y/N whined, their voice a siren's call, "Just a quickie, before you go." They leaned in closer, their breath hot against Neuvillette's neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

The judge's resolve wavered, the temptation of a passionate encounter with Y/N almost too much to resist. But he knew he couldn't. "No," he said firmly, pushing back his chair, "We can't." He gently but insistently removed Y/N's hand from his crotch and stood up, straightening his robes.

Y/N pouted even more, their eyes glinting with a hint of annoyance. "You're no fun," they grumbled, crossing their arms over their chest.

Neuvillette chuckled despite himself, reaching out to stroke their cheek with his gloved hand. "I know," he said, "but duty calls." He turned and made his way to the courtroom, the heavy doors looming before him like a final boss in a video game.

Y/N trailed after him, their steps echoing down the hallway. "Fine," they said with a dramatic sigh, "but I'm coming with you."

Neuvillette rolled his eyes but didn't protest. He knew Y/N well enough to know that once they had their mind set on something, there was no changing it. They arrived at the grand courtroom, the air thick with the anticipation of the looming proceedings. The room was eerily empty, the wooden benches untouched by the usual bustle of plaintiffs and defendants.

"Well, this is odd," Neuvillette murmured, checking his pocket watch. "We're not supposed to start for another half an hour."

Y/N snickered, their mood lightening at the sight of the empty room. "Maybe the universe is giving us a little gift," they said, wagging their eyebrows suggestively.

Neuvillette couldn't help but laugh. "Or maybe it's just another one of your jinxes," he teased, pushing the door open with a squeak.

The judge stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the vast space. The high ceilings, adorned with frescoes of ancient battles and legal triumphs, seemed to watch over them like disapproving parents. Y/N followed, their boots clicking against the marble floor.

"Come on," Y/N whispered, sidling up to Neuvillette, "at least give me a kiss. It's been ages."

Neuvillette's resolve was waning, the heat of their earlier encounter still simmering between them. He leaned down, their lips meeting in a soft, chaste kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through his body. But Y/N wasn't satisfied with just a peck. They grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

Their tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with longing and desire. Y/N's hands roamed down to Neuvillette's waist, fumbling with the knot of his sash. They pushed him backward, the large judge's chair looming behind him like a throne. With a grunt, Neuvillette gave in, his body weight carrying him backward into the plush velvet embrace of the chair.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with triumph as they sank to their knees in front of the chair.

Neuvillette's cock, now free from its confines, stood proud and demanding. Veins bulged with anticipation, tracing a map of pleasure along its length, and the underside was particularly sensitive to the touch, a fact that Y/N knew all too well.

As Y/N leaned in, Neuvillette's hips jerked involuntarily, his hand shooting up to grab a fistful of their hair. He gripped it tightly, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold back the moan that threatened to escape his lips. The sensation of Y/N's warm breath against his cock was almost too much, and he had to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out.

Y/N, ever the eager participant, took the hint and wrapped their lips around the tip, teasing the slit with their tongue. Neuvillette's grip on their hair tightened, his legs spreading wider as he pushed his hips up slightly to meet their mouth. The feeling of their tongue flicking against his most sensitive spot sent a shiver down his spine, making his toes curl in his boots.

Y/N took him in deeper, their cheeks hollowing as they sucked hard. The sound of wetness filled the quiet courtroom, the only other noise the occasional crackle of the candles that lined the walls. They could feel the judge's thighs trembling, his gloved hands clutching their head, guiding them deeper. The taste of his precum was sweet on their tongue, a promise of the release to come.

Neuvillette's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to keep his composure. He knew that Y/N was a master at this, that they could make him cum in seconds if they wanted to, but he was trying to hold out. The anticipation was part of the thrill, the knowledge that they were about to be caught up in something so deliciously scandalous in the very heart of Fontaine's legal system.

But it was a battle he was quickly losing. The way Y/N's mouth moved, the pressure and rhythm, it was all too much. His hips began to buck, his hand moving to the armrest of the chair to keep from toppling over. He could feel the orgasm building, a storm brewing in his core, threatening to spill over at any moment.

And just as he was about to let go, the doors to the courtroom swung open, the sound echoing through the room like a gavel's final blow.

Y/N and Neuvillette froze, the latter's eyes shooting wide open as a parade of officials and assistants began to file in, their murmurs of greeting and shuffling of papers a stark contrast to the silence that had been moments before. Y/N, ever the quick thinker, ducked under the desk, their heart racing. Neuvillette's cock, still wet from Y/N's eager mouth, twitched in response to the sudden cold air.

The judge took a deep breath, willing his body to behave as he forced himself to sit up straight, the chair creaking ominously beneath him. He smoothed his robes down, trying to look as dignified as possible despite the raging hard-on he was trying to hide. The room grew louder as more people filled in, taking their seats, arranging their notes. Neuvillette could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, a blush that was hopefully just from the exertion and not the embarrassment of being caught.

Y/N, hidden from view, couldn't help but let out a stifled giggle, the sound muffled by the fabric of Neuvillette's robes. The judge shot them a glare, his hand shooting down to grip the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white.

"Thank you all for being here today," Neuvillette began, his voice a little shakier than usual. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself as he continued, "We have a very important case to discuss." His eyes darted around the room, looking for any signs of suspicion. The attendees nodded and murmured in response, none the wiser to the scandalous scene playing out just out of their line of sight.

Y/N, unable to resist the temptation, leaned back in and took him in their mouth again, their hands moving to stroke the base of his cock. Neuvillette's eyes rolled back in his head, his grip on the desk tightening as he bit down on his knuckle to keep from moaning. The room was a blur, the faces of the officials swimming before his eyes as he tried to focus on the case at hand.

With a Herculean effort, Neuvillette pulled Y/N's head back, their teeth grazing the sensitive skin just before they were fully extracted. "Not now," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N pouted but obeyed— for now, sitting back on their heels and watching him with hungry eyes.

Neuvillette took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to compose himself. He couldn't very well start the session with a raging erection, now could he? He shuffled his papers, hoping that the rustling would cover the sound of his racing heart. The room had filled up, the murmur of conversation growing louder as the minutes ticked by. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of anticipation for the upcoming case and the unspoken tension between the two lovers.

He took his seat at the bench, adjusting his robes to try and hide his arousal. The first case was brought before him, a dull roar of words that barely registered as he tried to focus. His eyes scanned the pages before him, but the words swam together like ink in water. The pressure of Y/N's mouth was still imprinted on his cock, the ghost of their touch driving him wild. He could feel the wetness of their saliva slowly drying, leaving his skin feeling tight and sensitive.

As the prosecutor began their opening statement, Neuvillette's hand strayed to his mouth, his teeth sinking into his lower lip to keep from groaning. The pressure grew, his cock throbbing with the need for release. He glanced down, trying to be subtle, and found that Y/N's hand had slipped into his lap, their fingers tracing lazy circles around the base of his shaft.

The first time he stuttered, he blamed it on the poor lighting. The second time, he coughed and took a sip of water, his hand shaking slightly as he brought the glass to his lips. The third time, the prosecutor paused, a look of concern flashing across their face. "Your honor, are you feeling quite alright?"

Neuvillette's eyes snapped up, his cheeks burning with a mix of arousal and embarrassment. "I'm fine," he ground out, his voice strained. "Just a... a bit of a cold, I think." He coughed into his fist, hoping it was convincing. The room watched him for a moment before the proceedings continued, the murmur of whispers and shuffling papers resuming.

Y/N took advantage of the distraction, their mouth once again wrapping around Neuvillette's cock. This time, they were more cautious, their movements slow and deliberate. They could feel the judge's thighs tensing, his hips trying to rock up to meet them despite his efforts to remain still. The sound of fabric against skin was almost silent, but to Neuvillette, it was like a symphony in his ears.

He tried to focus on the case, really he did. But every time Y/N hit just the right spot, his eyes would squeeze shut, and a strangled sound would escape his throat. He bit down on his gloved fingers, the leather muffling his moans. The room was so still, so formal, and here he was, on the verge of losing control.

The case droned on, the words a blur as Neuvillette's mind was a whirlwind of pleasure and panic. He could feel the climax building, a crescendo that was all too familiar. Y/N's tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, teasing the slit before plunging back down, taking him in deep.

Neuvillette's body tensed, and he had to bite down on the leather of his gloved hand to keep from crying out. The sudden sharp pain brought him back to reality for a brief moment. He looked up, trying to focus on the defendant standing before him, but all he could see was the swirl of color from the stained glass windows above, casting a kaleidoscope across the room.

"Your honor," the prosecutor's voice cut through the haze, "the defense seems to be... distracted. Is everything alright?" Concerned whispers spread through the courtroom like a ripple in a pond.

Neuvillette coughed, his voice strained. "Just a bit of... allergies, yes. The flowers outside, you know." He cleared his throat and hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. "Please, continue with your questioning."

The prosecutor looked at him skeptically but carried on. Meanwhile, Y/N had found his sweet spot, licking and sucking with the finesse of a maestro conducting an orchestra. Neuvillette's eyes watered, his hips jerking slightly as he felt the release approaching.

He had to get a grip, literally. He clenched his fists in his robes, the fabric bunching in his grip. "What is your defense?" he managed to ask the defendant, his voice a mix of authority and the beginning of a moan.

The defendant, a burly man with a scruffy beard, looked confused. "I-I was just saying, Your Honor, that I didn't mean to..."

But Neuvillette wasn't listening. Y/N's mouth was like a vise, their tongue a whirlwind of sensation. He could feel the pressure building, the dam about to burst. "I-I need a recess," he blurted out, his voice a strangled whisper.

The room went silent, all eyes on the judge who was clearly not his usual composed self. The prosecutor and defendant exchanged glances, while the bailiff looked like he was about to ask if Neuvillette needed medical attention.

"A... recess?" the prosecutor echoed, looking at the clock. "But we've only just begun."

"Now," Neuvillette snapped, his voice firm despite the tremble in his legs. "This... this case is too important to be rushed." He slammed his gavel down, the sound echoing through the hushed room.

The bailiff stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Your Honor, are you feeling... well?"

Neuvillette took a deep breath, willing his body to calm. "I'm fine," he assured, his voice a barely controlled rumble. But Y/N's mouth was like a siren's call, latched onto that spot that made his toes curl and his vision swim. He couldn't ignore the way their tongue danced around the sensitive ridge, the flicks and swirls that sent bolts of pleasure through him.

The prosecutor looked unconvinced, but the defendant's counsel nodded, eager to take advantage of the break. "Very well, Your Honor," the prosecutor said, their voice filled with skepticism. “We'll reconvene in fifteen minutes.”

The room buzzed with whispers as everyone began to stand, their movements a symphony of confusion and curiosity. Y/N didn't waste a second, pulling away from Neuvillette's cock with a final, tantalizing kiss that left him gasping for air. They slipped out from under the desk, smoothing their clothes with a smug grin. "Fifteen minutes, perfect," they murmured, giving Neuvillette's leg a final squeeze before sauntering out of the courtroom.

The judge took a moment to compose himself, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He adjusted his robes, trying to hide the evidence of their tryst. The room emptied slowly, the murmurs of the crowd fading into the hallway. He waited until the last set of footsteps had disappeared before standing, his legs wobbly with need. He could feel the stickiness on his cock, a testament to how close he'd come.

"Y/N, office," he called out, his voice still a little hoarse. Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement, their hand already on the doorknob. They stepped aside, allowing Neuvillette to pass, their fingers trailing over his lower back as they did so.

Once in the office, Neuvillette's gaze swept over the chaos. Papers littered the floor, ink pots were overturned, and the smell of spilled wine filled the air. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his body. "This place is a mess," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "It's all part of the ambiance," they said, stepping closer to him. They reached up, untying the knot of his sash with nimble fingers. "Now, where were we?"

Neuvillette's eyes darkened with desire, his hand coming up to cup Y/N's cheek. "We were about to take this somewhere more... private," he murmured, his thumb tracing their jawline. "And then, we're going to make up for lost time."

The door clicked shut behind them, the sound echoing through the cluttered room. Y/N's eyes locked onto his, their hands roaming over his body with a hunger that matched his own. They stepped closer, their bodies pressing together in a delicious dance of heat and want.

"Fuck, you're so hard for me," Y/N growled, their fingers fumbling with the button of his pants. With a swift, brutal motion, they tore open his fly, sending his cock springing free. It jutted out, a testament to his unabated desire, slick with pre-come and begging for release.

Neuvillette's cock sprang free, a testament to his unabated desire. He watched as Y/N took it in their hand, their grip firm and sure. They stroked him slowly, their thumb circling the sensitive tip, sending shivers down his spine.

"Turn over," Y/N ordered, their voice low and commanding.

Neuvillette whimpered at the interruption but reluctantly obeyed, his palms flat on the desk as he bent over, his ass in the air. The cold wood sent a shiver through him, making his skin prickle with anticipation. He was panting and flushed, cock leaking heavily between them as he learned to savor each delicious slide.

Y/N stepped closer, their cock brushing against his thigh. Neuvillette could feel the heat of them, the promise of what was to come. He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for the onslaught.

The first slick press of Y/N's length against his entrance was like a spark igniting a flame. Neuvillette gasped, his eyes squeezing shut as they pushed inside him. The sensation was almost too much, a mix of pain and pleasure that made his knees wobble, the sensation of their bodies reconnecting after so long almost too much to handle.

Their rhythm grew steadier as they lost themselves in the moment, their movements driven by pure instinct. Neuvillettes nails raked down Y/n’s back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Y/n," Neuvillette moaned, his hips rising to meet each thrust. "Harder."

Y/N didn't give him any time to adjust, their hips snapping forward with a force that made the desk shake. Neuvillette let out a strangled cry, his body taking a moment to accommodate the intrusion.

They set a relentless pace, their length sliding in and out of him with a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. The desk creaked and groaned, a testament to their passion.

Neuvillette's nails dug into the wood, his knuckles white with the effort of holding on. He could feel his orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that washed over him with every thrust.

Y/N leaned over him, their breath hot against his neck. "You're so fucking tight," they murmured, their voice strained with lust. "So good, Neuvillette."

Their words were like a spell, casting a net of desire over him. He pushed back, meeting each thrust with a wantonness that surprised even himself. The need to be filled, to be claimed, was overwhelming.

Y/N's hand slammed down onto the desk beside his head, the sound echoing through the room. "Fuck, yes," they grunted, their hips driving into him with an intensity that bordered on violence.

Neuvillette's eyes watered as Y/N hit that spot, that magical spot deep inside that made his toes curl and his body spasm. He bit down on his gloved hand, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his lips. The fabric muffled the sound, but the pain only added to his pleasure.

Each slap of their hips against his ass was a symphony of sensation, a crescendo that built and built until he thought he couldn't take it anymore. He could feel his orgasm coiling in his belly, tightening like a spring ready to snap.

Y/N's length slammed into Neuvillette with the force of a storm, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent room. The judge's face was a picture of ecstasy and torment, his eyes squeezed shut as he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. Each thrust was accompanied by a wet smack, the sound bouncing off the walls like a taunt to their secret.

Neuvillette's legs trembled, his toes curling in his boots as he tried to keep his body from betraying him. He knew the Melusines were just outside, their sensitive hearing attuned to every little noise. The thought of them hearing his desperate gasps and the sloppy sounds of their lovemaking sent a thrill of both fear and excitement through him.

He couldn't help the way his body reacted, his muscles clenching around Y/N's length with every thrust. He was so close, so desperately close to losing control. The pressure was building, a coil in his belly that tightened with every movement. The room swam around him, the candlelight playing across his skin like a lover's caress.

He could feel the tension in Y/N's body, the way their muscles tightened and released with each movement. They were both chasing that elusive high, that sweet release that hovered just out of reach. Neuvillette's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more depraved than the last.

His body arched, his back bowing like a bowstring pulled taut before releasing an arrow. His orgasm hit, sending waves of pure ecstasy crashing through his body. He bit down hard on the leather of his glove, muffling the scream that threatened to rip from his chest.

His cock spasmed, shooting ropes of cum across the desk, painting the once pristine surface with a chaotic pattern of white. The smell of sex filled the room, a musky scent that seemed to cling to every inch of them. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and delight at the display, their own hand moving faster as they watched him come undone.

The hand over his mouth was almost painful now, but Neuvillette didn't care. He bucked and thrashed beneath Y/N, the world outside the office forgotten. The only thing that mattered was the exquisite pleasure that consumed him, leaving him boneless and panting.

Finally, the storm passed, and he collapsed against the desk, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The hand over his mouth slipped away, and he took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes still closed. The silence was deafening, the only sound the faint tick of the clock on the wall.

Neuvillette's eyes snapped open, his heart dropping into his stomach. He looked at the timepiece, the hands pointing to the number fifteen. "No.”

[chiaraswritings]

Batman Vs Bruce Wayne Headcanons: Date Night with fem!Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Smut, comfort. 18+.

Important Note: 18+ suggestive headcanons begin after the stars (✶ ✶ ✶), and will have a star (✶) in their intro.

Author's Note: Don't come for me, it's been awhile! For everything. This is my first time posting headcanons so I'm sorry if I didn't do them right. Nonetheless, I hope you're all having an incredible summer, and I hope you enjoy.

☽ Batman

☽ Batman not wanting to take off the Batsuit until you have to physically take it off him. And then physically put the matching hoodie you got on him.

☽ Batman not being anywhere near finished with the case he's working on.

☽ Batman letting you sit on his lap while he "finishes up real quick".

☽ Batman grumbling because you saw him rubbing his eyes, and now you're worried about the blue light from the Batcomputer affecting him. "The computer is not the enemy, (y/n)."

☽ Batman looking over your shoulder to see who you're texting and rolling his eyes that you're actually playing a merging game.

☽ Batman letting you fall asleep on his lap, and when you wake up, he still has his arms in the exact same position around you as he did an hour ago. The only thing that's changed is the screen.

☽ Batman rolling his eyes fondly when you get bored by his research on the screen. "Technically, this is classified information. You're not even supposed to be reading this."

☽ Batman letting you order Chinese food to the manor from his phone. You abandon his lap only to run up and get it, coming back with the plastic bag. He only eats when you hold the chopsticks up for him (both of his hands are on the keyboard).

☽ Batman allowing you to steal kisses every so often, then complaining you taste like beef and broccoli.

☽ Batman giving you gentle squeezes to check in. He'll run his hand down to yours and squeeze, and you'll capture his hand with your fingers.

☽ Batman finishing his work and turning you in his lap to give you his full attention.

☽ Batman scoffing when you ask if you can watch a Disney movie on the Batcomputer, but it only takes a few moments of convincing before he grumbles and relents.

☽ Batman breathing in the smell of your shampoo as he half-watches the movie with you. You glare at him, subtly telling him to pay attention to the plot, and he finally does. "What, are you quizzing me on it later?"

✶ ✶ ✶ (18+ content ahead) ✶ ✶ ✶

☽ ✶ Batman totally not getting distracted when you take off your shirt and go right back to cuddling in your sports bra. Because he's Batman, of course he doesn't get distracted.

☽ ✶ Batman forgetting all about the movie and starting research on you instead. Our ADHD king. ✨

☽ ✶ Batman making out with you in the middle of the Batcave, his hands unashamedly memorizing your curves. Your waist, your thighs, up to cup your breasts in calloused hands, then back down to your thighs again.

☽ ✶ Batman pulling you into the Batmobile of all places for privacy. "What? It's the closest place with a lock." So now you are destined to have sex in his car. Though the darkened windows do give a certain... aura to the tight space.

☽ ✶ Batman pulling you on top of him in the driver's seat, secretly grateful you made him take off the Batsuit earlier. You're soon locked in a kiss again, his lips eager and his hands running over your thighs.

☽ ✶ Batman gruffly apologizing when you bump your head on the roof of the car as he peels off your leggings unceremoniously. "Careful. It's cramped in here." He keeps his hand near your hand after that.

☽ ✶ Batman's hands supporting your hips as you grind against him, you can feel his growing erection through those goddamn sweatpants you made him wear. The only noise he makes is low grunts and deep exhales through his nose, clear signs to your trained ear that he's enjoying this.

☽ ✶ Batman keeping his hands on your thighs the entire time you ride him. His fingers roughly dig into your skin, keeping your legs parted, helping you move up and down. His lips find yours, muffling your shrill moans.

☼ Bruce Wayne

☼ Bruce Wayne not really having a preference between going out and staying in.

☼ Bruce Wayne loving the way you dress up when you try a new restaurant together. You have the best smear-proof lipstick, so he can kiss you as often as he wants.

☼ Bruce Wayne keeping you close when he sees a camera lens pointing at them. If the picture's going to hit the news, he wants everyone to know you're his girl.

☼ Bruce Wayne not really paying attention to anything but you. He mumbles absently to the waiter, his eyes trained on yours. It could be the completely wrong dish that comes out, one he despises, and he wouldn't really care. He's too happy being with you.

☼ Bruce Wayne not minding your requests to stay in instead of go out. He'll take off his jacket and shoes without a second thought, handing you one of his hoodies to stay warm in. "Here. You're going to steal it later anyways."

☼ Bruce Wayne putting on your favorite Netflix show as you curl up into his sheets. Word on the street is he wanted to buy the whole show just for you, and when the company turned him down, you had to stop him from punching the representative.

☼ Bruce Wayne binging a pack of Oreos with you, and then kissing you even with cookie in your teeth.

☼ Bruce Wayne keeping you close when you fall asleep, but even then he doesn't turn off the show. By this time he's way too invested in the plot he once rolled his eyes at.

☼ Bruce Wayne waking up in the middle of the night to see you re-watching the episodes you slept through, and gladly watching them again. He's so bad at not spoiling the ending. You'd think he could keep a secret, with all the secrets he already keeps.

☼ Bruce Wayne falling asleep right at the climax (he's already seen), and you low-key getting pissed off at him because you're so invested and on edge.

☼ Bruce Wayne drifting in and out of sleep until you finally fall asleep with him, the show playing in the background. You'll have to finish it another day.

☼ Bruce Wayne waking up before you do and brushing his teeth so he won't have morning breath when he kisses you.

☼ Bruce Wayne insisting you can't just eat Oreos for breakfast, though you argue it has the same nutrients as a muffin would.

✶ ✶ ✶ (18+ content ahead) ✶ ✶ ✶

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne insisting he only joined you in the bathroom so he can shave, and nicking himself more than once because he was sneaking peeks at you in the shower.

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne finally giving up on shaving and watching you in the shower without shame. His eyes follow the lather that runs over the curve of your hips and down your legs.

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne staring for so long, you finally open the shower door as an invitation. He strips in record time and steps in, quickly turning the water to a hotter temperature.

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne being fully aroused from the moment he steps in the shower, but taking the time for foreplay. His hands move from your waist, to your stomach, then between your legs, his fingers doing nimble, skilled work there.

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne wrapping one of your legs around his waist, his lips doing their duty on your neck, his fingers working between your legs where you need them the most. He usually takes the lead in foreplay, reducing you to a mess in his arms.

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne keeping his hand between your legs as he thrusts into you, fingertips pressing against your bundle of nerves. He knows exactly how to please you, and how to not overstimulate you.

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne murmuring sweet (sexy) nothings into your ear as he fucks you. All you can do is open your mouth in a silent moan, your breath coming out in a long sigh.

☼ ✶ Bruce Wayne resting his forehead against yours, the water running over your lips, making them look so inviting. He's not so lost in pleasure that he can't notice this, and he pauses his thrusts to kiss you like you're an addiction. Your hips buck, the lack of movement annoying you slightly. He grins and resumes, his fingers moving in between your bodies, fucking you in all the right ways.