#he’s watched her grow up and become a person

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - blurb - she has your eyes

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) the next chapter i spent literally so much time on and i can't wait to share it!!!!

You stood at the reception area of the emergency department, an olive green smock-style dress draped over your form as you held the underside of your nine-month-old belly in an attempt to ease the pain of the fifth contraction you’d had in the past hour. You squeezed your eyes shut again as another wave of pain passed over you. 

“Can you page Dr. Rafe Cameron, please?” 

You asked the nurse through clenched teeth who you weren’t familiar with; ‘she must be a new grad’ you thought to yourself. Where’s Jenni when you really need her?

“I sure can, may I ask what he needs to be paged for?” 

You couldn’t blame this newly hired nurse for her question, you were sure that she was wondering why a woman who looked to be in active labor was wanting her to page an orthopedic surgeon. You knew it was procedure unless you were family for them to ask what the doctor was needed for and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve recognized that. But, you weren’t in your right mind – the not sleeping because of the pain in your pelvis was getting to you and with Rafe working days so he could be at home with you at night, there was no way you could wake him up and ask him to do the massage that the physical therapist had taught you. You let out an exasperated sigh and just as you did, Jenni, your most favorite person in the entire world, turned the corner. You were anxious for many reasons; your body about to push out a baby was first on the list, needing to find your husband was second, and the third, and most looming dreadfully, was the fact that apart from lunches and picking your husband up and doctor’s appointments, you hadn’t been in the hospital in a long time – you hadn’t been a patient in a long time and the anxiety of it all was threatening to overtake you completely.

“Ma’am, what does he need to be paged for?” 

The new grad nurse, who you now realized was named Lizzie, asked you again at the same time that Jenni made her way behind the desk. As you read her name tag – you hyper fixated on whether or not it was short for Elizabeth or something else. You and Rafe had thrown around the name Elizabeth for a middle name – a tribute to the eldest Cameron girl, but had decided against it. You wanted your sweet baby to be unique and to grow into her own name, not be in the shadow of someone else’s. 

“Hey, sweet girl, are you looking for Dr. Handsome?” 

She joked, knowing who you had been asking for before even hearing the contents of the conversation in front of her. 

“Yeah.” 

You spoke meekly and Jenni watched you carefully as you squeezed your eyes shut, this time doubling over and yelling out as the contraction attempted to bring you to your knees. She quickly made her way over to you, grabbing your hand in hers and taking your hospital bag from your shoulders, doing her best to bring you back to an upright position. 

“I think we’re having this sweet baby, today, mama.” 

You gingerly nodded with fear stricken eyes. Being back here – in a place where you spent so much of your time – where you met your husband, but also where you struggled to walk again, where you almost died; it all has quickly become too much to handle and you needed Rafe to remind you of the strength it gave you, the beautiful little girl you were about to bring into this world, and the wonderful life it had helped you create. You just needed him and you just needed him now. 

“I can’t do it without him, Jenni. I need you to find him.” 

Your pleading eyes told her all she needed to know – you were scared – and she hadn’t seen you look this way in a long time. 

“Lizzie, call the OR and let Dr. Cameron know that his wife is in labor.” 

She instructed, tone forceful but kind before she looked back at you. 

“Look at me, mama. He’s gonna be with you soon, I promise. But, right now, I’m gonna take you up to Dr. Lebel’s office, okay?” 

It only made sense to move your OB-GYN’s office to the hospital; Rafe worked here and it made attending appointments much easier. Not to mention, he no longer likes the idea of you in a car by yourself, even five years after your accident. You nodded your head at Jenni’s words and let her lead you to the elevator and up to the fourth floor, where Dr. Lebel’s office was located. 

-

You were in the waiting room for ten minutes when Rafe came barreling through the door. You couldn’t help but giggle at how disheveled he was – still draped in the same scrubs he had left the house in that morning; but hair messy and all over the place, and that fucking mustache; even nine months pregnant and in extreme pain, it was heating up your core. You made grabby hands at him like a baby and he obliged with the Rafe Cameron smile, pulling you in for a hug and rubbing your back with both of his hands. 

“Hi, mama. What’s going on, sweetheart?” 

He asked, sweetly, happy to see you, of course, but concerned by the tone of voice Lizzie used when she called the operating room. He quickly got another doctor to step in and finish the surgery he was performing so he could be with you just in case your little bean decided to make her debut into the world, today of all days. 

“I didn’t sleep at all last night.” 

You said, moving to sit back down into the chair as another contraction made its way into your atmosphere, yet again. You doubled over, the pain was growing sharper each time and they were becoming closer together. You knew you were going to meet your baby girl very soon. Rafe moved quickly, grabbing your hands so you didn’t fall forward and scooting you back into the chair that sat in a sea of ones just like it in the somewhat empty waiting room. You opened your eyes as the wave of pain passed and you panted for breath, the fullness of your belly moved up and down with the correlation of your breasts as your lungs expanded to try and get more air. Rafe waited with kind eyes and a patient tongue, letting you finish explaining what was going on before opening his mouth to speak. 

“I tossed and turned all night – the pain in my pelvis – it was just too much.” 

You let out an exasperated sigh, growing quiet as you waited for him to respond. His strong hands moved to your head as he began to rub soothing circles into your hair. The two of you were no strangers to the effects that the accident had on your pregnancy and pelvic pain from the previously crushed bones that Rafe reorchestrated and seemingly put back together was one of them. He was proactive; getting you quickly into prenatal physical therapy by the end of your first trimester and going to every appointment with you, listening to the physical therapist and massaging your hips in the way you liked so much every time he could. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up, baby? I would’ve done that massage you like.” 

He spoke and you almost melted, knowing that had you just woke him, the thing you wanted was what he would’ve done anyways; how very – Rafe Cameron of him.  

“I didn’t want to wake you, sweet boy. I knew you had to work.” 

You replied, cupping his cheek. 

“Yeah, but you’re more important than anything here. You know that, mama. You and my sweet girl in your little tummy are so much more important.” 

Rafe was selfless and if Molly’s death taught him anything, it was not to take the ones you love for granted. That was something he never intended to do again and it was a lesson that had stuck with him, even seven years later. You put your forehead to his and he kissed your nose before you continued with the events of the morning. 

“Anyways, the pain spread from my hips to my tummy this morning and when I had five contractions in an hour, I came in. I think we’re about to have a baby.” 

He almost squealed in excitement. 

“I can’t wait, mama. My girl is giving me a baby girl.” 

He spoke in content as the door flung open and the nurse called your name for you to come back and see the doctor. Rafe stood and grabbed your hand, helping you move to your feet ever so slowly, the nine-month-old bump you sported made you teeter and the last thing he wanted was for you to fall. His protective hands guided you through the threshold of the door. 

-

You made your way to the room after the nurse noted that your blood pressure was a little bit elevated. You shook that off quickly, the anxiety of giving birth and the pain that had been coursing through your body all night made it make sense. Rafe helped you onto the table and the nurse gently draped the cloth over your lower half, lifting your dress to just below your breasts as Dr. Lebel came in. 

“I heard you’re not feeling the greatest, mama.” 

Rafe gingerly nodded as he met her eyes. He had placed himself on a stool at your head, rubbing soothing circles into your hair once more, the hand of yours that was closest to him was squeezing his – the anxiety coursing heavily through your veins. One thing had never changed about you and that was your need for his touch in a crisis. He loved that about you. While he couldn’t physically help because babies weren’t his specialty, he could soothe you with his touch and that’s what he intended to do. 

“Her contractions are getting closer and closer.” 

Rafe spoke into the air and the doctor nodded. 

“Well, let’s take a look at our girl, shall we?” 

You looked at Rafe who gave you a smile before eagerly nodding at your doctor. One special thing that Rafe developed during your pregnancy was the way he smiled ear-to-ear every time he saw his little girl on the ultrasound screen. He was giddy – like that of a giggling little girl; he never could get over the fact that because of you, because of Molly’s orchestration of him finding you, he was married to the love of his life and he was about to get to be the daddy to the world’s most perfect little girl. 

“Jelly’s gonna be a little cold.” 

She brought the bottle over your belly, squirting it and watching as it gently fell on to your tan skin. You squirmed under the chill of the gel and Rafe giggled. After nine months of ultrasounds, your reaction was still the same – even though you had felt the icy-like drop of the gel as it descended down to your belly more times than he could count on his hands, you always, always, expected it not to be cold. He marked it up to you expecting the good in everything; even this tiny detail about cold gel made him love you more than he did the second previously. His eyes went from the doctor to the screen as she dutifully began to spread the gel around your abdomen and your baby girl appeared on the screen. Her heartbeat was the symphony and yours was the orchestra; one couldn’t co-exist without the other. You were thankful that through all the fear of the morning, her heartbeat was still there. It meant she was good, it meant she was safe. Tears lined your eyes as you turned your head to look at Rafe, the sheet of paper draped over the pillow crinkling as you met his eyes. He smiled and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“She’s okay, baby. Look at her moving around, she’s perfect.” 

He said pointing at the screen. Dr. Lebel was quiet for a moment before locking eyes with Rafe and speaking only with her eyes, something only doctors seemed to know how to do. Rafe knew what it meant – it meant something wasn’t right. 

“What is it, doc?” 

He asked, nonchalantly but his tone was laced with concern. Your eyes went wide. 

“I-is something wrong?” 

You stuttered. Which Rafe knew meant your anxiety was reaching a peak of no return, rapidly. 

“Slow down, nothing is wrong. We don’t want to scare you, mama. Baby girl is measuring at nine pounds – like we discussed previously, with the previous crush injury to your pelvis, a nine pound baby is going to be extremely rough on your body; it may even re-break your pelvis. The pelvis loosens quite a bit in a normal person, but because of the pins and screws in yours, I don’t want to risk reinjury.” 

Rafe’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the thought of your tiny bones breaking for the second time in order to bring your daughter into the world. The worst part was, he knew you’d be fine with that, he knew you’d go to that length to ensure that a c-section wasn’t necessary because if he knew anything about you it was that you didn’t want anyone besides him operating on you – you didn’t trust anyone besides him to. It made sense, he had been the one to repeatedly bring you through surgery over and over, it was him who laid with you and held you close so you’d know you weren’t alone all those late nights in the hospital. You were scared, you were experiencing post-traumatic stress and there was little to nothing he could do about it. But, he knew for damn sure that he was not going to let your first chance at motherhood be spent the way your days in the hospital were – you were going to enjoy this if he had anything to do with it and you deserved that much. 

“So, what do you suggest, doc? What are our options here? I know she’s pretty dead set on a vaginal birth, is that still possible?”

Rafe questioned her with intent – he needed to know what the odds were that your pelvis wasn’t going to break into pieces right in front of him. 

“It’s possible, but the outcomes are extremely grim. Rafe, you know what happens when a pelvis splinters, she’s risking internal bleeding. Not to mention, the significant amount of pain she will already be in as a new mom. We don’t need to add emergency surgery to fix broken bones to that. I would suggest a c-section. I know that’s not in your plan, but it is the safer option.” 

You looked to Rafe with pleading eyes, begging him not to make you do this. 

“I’m going to step out and let you guys talk about it for a few minutes.” 

Dr. Lebel said, giving the both of you a reassuring smile before stepping out and closing the door behind her. 

“Rafferty, please don’t make me do this.” 

You whispered, your voice cracking as the emotion of it all overcame you. Nothing hurt Rafe more than that sound, but he knew he had to give you some tough love in this situation to protect you. 

“Come on, mama. You had to use my government name and the conversation has barely started?” 

It was a half-joke, he needed you to smile so you’d know – so he’d know that this would all be okay and at the end of the day you would have a healthy baby. But, a smile is not what he got. Instead, he watched as your lip trembled and he lurched forward, pulling you into his arms, your belly creating distance between you. It was almost as if the sweet girl inside you was giving her input into the situation. 

“Rafe, c-can’t you just – c-can’t you fix it if it breaks?” 

He was taken aback by your question, though he shouldn’t have been. He knew you like the back of his hand and he knew this was the eerie and winding path your brain would go down. He wished so badly that your brain would give you a break and that for once it would follow the yellow brick road – the normal path of thinking. But, anxiety is anxiety and he knew it well, no matter what the doctor had said, you were going to be anxious because this was a monumental life event for the both of you and him wishing things were different wouldn’t change that. 

“No, mama. I can’t. It could splinter and make you bleed internally. It could kill you baby and as much as I love you and want to make you comfortable, I have my boundaries too, baby – watching you die is not on my to-do list for today. Not to mention, I can’t – I won’t – let you enter motherhood unable to walk and in intense pain; that’s not fair to you or little bean. She needs her mama and she needs her mama whole and healthy, okay?” 

You could only whimper as you nodded in response. 

- 

Only an hour later, you were laying on your back on an operating table, arms spread wide, tied to the table in the shape of a crucifix. Rafe sat on a rolling stool at your head, his regular blue surgical garb adorned his body and his hands sat on top of your head. You looked up at him with fear stricken eyes as the doctors and nurses worked around you, moving the contents of your stomach out of it in an attempt to get to your baby girl. 

“Rafe, I’m scared.” 

You whispered and he stood, peering his eyes down and over the mask that sat on his face until they met yours. 

“I know, baby. But, it’s okay. Not much longer, now.” 

Those blue orbs were the only thing that grounded you as you heard the faintest cry, that managed to get louder and louder by the second. He brought his forehead to yours and you breathed out a breath of relief. 

“Our girl has arrived, mama.” 

He muttered and you smiled softly at the thought. 

“Rafe, go with her.” 

You demanded and he nodded his head as they took her to the incubator in the corner of the room, working quickly to rid her of the contents of your blood and fluid. As quickly as he had left, he returned to your side with tears in his eyes as he brought your daughter to your chest and allowed you to place kisses to her tiny pink button nose. She was the perfect mixture of you and Rafe; his nose, your cheeks, his hair, your lips, and just as you were committing her features to memory she blinked her eyes open. They were the same cerulean blue of her father’s and you thanked your lucky star’s the one prayer you had sent up had become reality. 

“Rafe, she has your eyes.” 

He mewled at the small fact as he took her from your arms, holding her head in his palm and placing his other hand on her tiny bottom. He bounced her for only a moment, letting tears cascade down his face as the harsh reality hit him that even though he had lost Molly, he had gained all the things he ever prayed for in the end. He placed his forehead against hers, taking in her scent, scared that he’d never smell it again. 

“Millie June Cameron. Hi, baby. I’m your daddy.” 

He cooed. 

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

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[1800i-dont-write-fanfiction]

If we take solavellan in genuine good faith

Solas fell so deeply in love with Lavellan that he truly wanted to stay with her. Against his plans. despite his reservations. Forsake his duty. Because she did change everything.

So deeply enthralled and completely

Captivated

A person can be cold because really opening up your heart and mind is dangerous. And solas struggled to keep himself from giving too much away. she made him want to be the best parts of himself. he COULD NOT stand to be dishonest with her, he literally would not “lay with her under false pretenses” because she meant that much to him. It was an affront to her!!! He didn’t want to be anything other than honest, or himself, with her.

she broke down his defenses so completely that if he allowed her to come with him, she would change his mind. because he could not stand to fulfill his plans AND love her. how could he destroy something so important to her and watch her grow to resent him? or even yet, how could he stay connected to the part of him that loves so deeply AND tear down the veil, knowing what it would cost? I do think Solas wanted to be stopped.

“I would not have you see what I become” please please please trust me here I will hate myself even more knowing I am the villain in our story I don’t WANT to hurt you I have no choice I HOPE you will come to understand and still see me for who I am or was or can be in the end because your esteem means that much to me your empathy is devastatingly horrible “it would be kinder in the long run” I know I am going to hurt you but I can’t help but love you I worship you I would give you the world if I could. i will be in agony for the rest of my existence type shit

[yeonmuse]

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Jongseong ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed until previous reqs are fulfilled] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🎸

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well.

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Jays favorite guitar gets stolen, breaking his heart and forcing him to to buy a new guitar from the music store downtown. While on a search for a new set of strings he has a chance encounter with one of the stores employees and finds there’s more to her that meets the eye. Eventually his visits to the store become more frequent as he now spends most of his time trying to convince her to join his band. Though things only grow complicated when old flames return and drive a distance between the two of them once he finally gets closer to her heart.

Join taglist here

MOTHERS LEAVING

The following day it had been Jay's first day returning to work with a new guitar in his hands. He entered Sacrifice with a newfound stride, whistling a cheerful tune as he was immediately greeted by his bandmates.

Jay had worked at Club Sacrifice for two years now, having started the job his freshman year at UA. Though it started as an easy job to make quick bucks he slowly found himself falling in love with the job. Getting to play shows every night, making money doing something that he absolutely loved to do. He was quick to become friends with the other members of the band, each of them having their own reasons for having decided to take the Job. The band's popularity had grown pretty quickly, the members consisting of seven members including Jay himself. Soyoon, Jay, Jungsu, Wonbin, Masami, Leedo and Sohee Or at least it had been the seven of them until a week ago. Soyoon, who happened to be their lead singer, had decided to pursue other endeavors, leaving them without a lead.

“You found your guitar?”

“Unfortunately no, I had to get a new one.” The others watch as he sits his case on a nearby table. Each of them gathered around to see the guitar that now replaced Jay's beloved guitar. The very guitar that every single one of them had been sad to see him depart with.

“So this is your new jewel.”

“It suits you.”

“Yeah we can get into all of that after we figure out what the fuck we’re gonna do about Soyoon?”

“So she’s really gone huh?”

“Yup, she left two days ago.”

“So in other words we have to find another lead singer in two weeks?”

“Yup. Next saturday is the reopening so unless we find someone by then we’re pretty much all we got.” The group looks around at one another as if waiting for someone to suggest something that gets them out of their dilemma.

“Should we put up some flyers downtown? And Jay goes to UA right so he could also put some up around campus?” Wonbin suggests, being the first of the group to actually come up with some sort of solution

“I mean it’s our best bet, it's not exactly a terrible idea?” Leedos the first to agree, making the others give in almost instantaneously knowing neither of them had a better plan.

“I can maybe take some to the music store too? The girl that works there seemed pretty cool so I’m sure she won’t mind us hanging up a few flyers there.”

“Looks like we’re having Auditions then.” Leedo sits back in his seat twirling the drumstick between his fingertips

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

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[nereidof40k]

Chapter One of the tentatively named

Days of Ultramar.

I have no idea how many chapters, but several for sure.

Ellie (Ellicent) belongs to @justanothermemestrider Thanks for letting me borrow her. Gadriel is getting her back just fine, don’t worry. 😄

Honestly, everything aches. But Mirian keeps the smile on her face as she makes her way through the corridors. Years of being reminded she is a Valerius telling her not to show weakness. The expression on her face probably shows more strain than she likes.

The Fortress of Hera looks quite unchanged from her memories. But the different faces is a stark reminder that she is ten thousand years in the future. She can scarcely believe it. Pushing the thought back into a box. If she dwells on it too much she might break down in tears right in the middle of the Fortress.

Finally she arrives at Guilliman’s office door. Knocking firmly on the ornate surface. In no time there is a very deep voice telling her to come in.

Roboute’s eyes widen as his eidetic memory provides a name he has not thought of for a long time. He finds himself standing up. “Mirian? Lady Mirian Valerius?”

The smile on her face brightens, becoming less strained. “Roboute Guilliman. It’s been a long time.”

He rounds his desk with surprising speed for his massive size. Roboute was always tall, but this makes her feel as small as a bug. Especially as he takes her hand and kisses it gently, like a gentleman. His hand could crush both of hers.

“It seems things have changed considerably since I was last here.” She smiles.

At his urging, she tells a story that makes Roboute’s blood boil. Though she doesn’t state it in so many words, it is clear to him that the Inquisition has been less than kind.

He finds himself promising to do everything he can to aid her. She might not be one of his brothers, but here is another person who remembers Ultramar that was. That is something.

She nods. “I’m grateful, Roboute.” Retrieving an ancient dataslate from inside her dress. “I was not the only one thrown into this future. The crew and other passengers will need support to make ourselves a place in this millennium.”

Taking the dataslate, he muses that she is definitely a daughter of House Valerius. They always looked after their own people. Very well known for their philanthropy and dedication.

Reading her report, he finds it is concise and clearly laid out. Not something he expected. But it is gratifying.

“Of course, Lady Mirian. You and yours are more than welcome to stay on Macragge as long as you wish. The extra hands will be very helpful.”

Then, her face grows serious. “What of Calth? The Inquisition made some concerning remarks. I believe a lot have happened in these millennia.”

Roboute wishes his mother was here. She would be far better suited to explaining the utter shitshow of stupidity that has become of his Father’s Imperium.

He guides Lady Mirian to the visitor’s chair, retrieving a dataslate from a drawer. Pulling up the report on the state of the Imperium he compiled after his return, and pulling up the pages on Ultramar.

Passing it to her with a remark that many things have happened.

Watching her read in between his endless paperwork. That fair face turning so pale her freckles look black by comparison. He is impressed by how she does not cry. Emperor knows he wanted to.

Her slender hand reaches out, snatching the glass sitting on his desk.

Pausing with it halfway to her mouth she wrinkles her nose, voice shaky. “While I can use a drink at this point, this might be a little too strong.”

He chuckles ruefully as he takes the glass back. “Far too strong. This is Mjød, a drink from my brother Leman’s homeworld. As far as I know it would make you go blind.”

She leans forward, looking at him intently. “Roboute…how can I help?” Voice heavy with concern.

It’s been so long since anyone addressed him like that. Like a man, not a demigod. She actually seems to see how tired he is.

“We can talk about that tomorrow. You look like you could use some rest, Lady Mirian. I will have someone show you and your party to guest quarters.” He needs to focus. He keeps wanting to go scream at the Inquisition, and that would have horrific consequences.

She nods, standing up regally. “Thank you, Roboute.”

At this very point, an Ultramarine with a plumed helmet enters his office. Cato Sicarius. Who does a double take at the woman standing in his Primarch’s office. Even more so when Roboute introduces Lady Mirian Valerius.

Cato snorts, making a remark about how she is very late to her wedding.

Her explanation about a warp storm does little to mollify Sicarius, so Roboute settles for calling a serf to escort Lady Mirian. Before Cato causes a diplomatic incident.

Fortunately Sicarius is not immune to disappointed looks from his Primarch. Behaving long enough to get Mirian out of there.

Roboute glares at Cato as she leaves. Demanding an explanation for his behavior.

Mirian is glad to be out of there. That was even more awkward than she had feared. Thank goodness for Roboute.

Not wanting to dwell too much on the Marine who looked so much like her Chairon. But he can’t have been. Not with the way he had looked at her so blankly, like a stranger.

She busies herself seeing to the rest of her companions and crew being properly housed, their needs seen to.

This, at least , hasn’t changed. If anything Roboute Guilliman’s household seems to be run so efficiently it would make Tarasha Euten proud.

In the process she does run into a Marine named Uriel Ventris, with a delightfully thick Calth accent. It may not be her Calth, but something does remain of her homeworld. Not everything has ceased to exist.

Far too soon everyone is settled, and so she accepts Ventris’ offer of sharing a drink and talking about Calth.

The place he takes her to is full of Ultramarines, but right now she doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. She can deal with a few stares.

Chairon’s attention keeps drifting to the woman talking to Ventris. A baseline sharing a drink with Astartes is strange enough. But the things she speaks of…he is getting more and more certain she somehow remembers his Calth. Her stories are too familiar, so full of raw emotion. Bringing hazy memories of the past into clarity. And the more he watches her talk, the more it feels familiar. Like it’s almost a memory, one he can almost but not quite remember.

Something about that hair, too. The way she gets more and more animated.

Then Sicarius comes over to complain that a woman of her supposed status shouldn’t be drinking so much.

Her response makes Titus wince in sympathy. He is very familiar with the urge to drink after being questioned by the Inquisition.

As Titus gets up to intervene, Chairon feels a strange sensation of jealousy. Like it should be him standing next to her, protecting her.

Cato finally slinks away after she stomps on his foot and calls him on ungentlemanly behavior.

Leaving Titus and Ventris to escort the last daughter of an extinct house safely to bed. Poor thing. She was far less destructive than most, just talkative. Very few people would begrudge her a bit of drinking.

Chairon sits there for what seems like forever, worrying at the almost formed memory. It’s starting to annoy him. But it feels important.

Titus has to carry Mirian into her room. Between them he and Uriel manage to get her sandals off and tuck her into bed. That pretty dress will probably be wrinkled in the morning, but neither of them is going to do anything untoward.

“I’m worried.” Ventris admits as they leave. Titus nods. That is one desperately lonely person. He can relate to having lost everything. And she can’t even get any of it back. The passage of time is cruel like that.

“Should maybe introduce her to Gadriel’s girlfriend.” Titus muses in a low voice. Ventris nods. He’s met Ellie. She might be a good choice, as unforgettable and unstoppable as she is.

[moonlight-hwa]

FI, TYMI ~ C. S | Chapter 7

Synopsis: Wherein Mikyung does a fake dating agreement with her co-worker, in order to escape the constant pursuits of her ex-boyfriend.

Pairings: lawyer!san x female!lawyer!OC (ft. bff!wooyoung)

Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, fake dating turned real dating, kinda she falls first, he falls harder

Warnings: none…just San being an absolute sweetheart again and Wooyoung being a menace

Word Count: 2,005

Mikyung pulled into a parking lot, belonging to a handmade noddle restaurant, where she was meeting San for lunch, after he had invited her yesterday.

  Her gaze immediately landed onto his familiar figure as she pulled into an empty spot; he was sitting on a bench near the entrance of the restaurant, eyes trained down to the screen of his phone.

  Mikyung breathed out a soft sigh, taking the key from the ignition, before finally getting out of her car. At the sound of a car door shutting, San’s eyes lifted from his phone, his gaze instantly locking with hers.

   A smile curled at his lips, standing from the bench, all the while his eyes bounced up and down her figure “Well, hello there beautiful.” He spoke, his hand finding hers, before he raised them up, allowing them to do a little spin, showing off her outfit.

  Almost two weeks had passed, since the beginning of their agreement and over the course of that time, she and San had grown closer; they held more friendly conversations, along with the occasional flirty remark tossed back and forth. So, San complimenting her was nothing out of the ordinary recently.

  Mikyung felt her face become warm at his words “Thank you, I actually put effort into getting ready this time around.” She said through a soft chuckle, her smile somehow growing as she faced San again.

  He hummed, smile also widening “And you look absolutely gorgeous…but I will say you look beautiful no matter what you wear, darling.” He confessed the pet name rolling off his tongue so effortlessly, that it made her heart beat a little quicker.

  Soon enough the two of them were sitting at a table, enjoying their bowl of noodles as they talked and laughed.

  “Since we’re supposed to make people believe we’re dating, we should probably get to know one another better, huh?” San spoke.

  Mikyung hummed in response “I guess we should.”

  “So…what does Ju Mikyung do in her free time, when she’s not working on cases?” He asked, a small smile curling at his lips.

  Mikyung exhaled a sigh, chopsticks absently moving around the contents of the bowl as she shrugged “I don’t really do anything, I think I’m kinda boring outside of the firm.” She spoke, “Either I’m reading, watching tv shows that I’m really into or with my best friend, which is probably all the time actually.”

  San hummed, while nodding “Do you have hobbies you enjoy?” He asked further.

  She shook her head “No, not really. Either I’m too busy or too tired to really start one.”

  She then heaved out another sigh, knowing that she was going to regret breaking down this wall. “But I did use to really enjoy photography, I would bring my camera everywhere.” A fond smile tugging at her lips.

  “Why did you stop?” There it was the question she dreaded answering, but at the same time she also completely expected it.

  She didn’t want to go into total detail about what Chanwoo said and did to make her stop, so she just simply said “Chanwoo made me feel insecure about it.”

  A frown tugged downward at his lips “And would he do that?” San questioned softly.

  Mikyung chuckled humorlessly “Because he’s a terrible person and emotionally abusive…simple as that.” She replied rather bluntly, all the while she felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes.

   Silence then filled the air around them as Mikyung continued eating and San thought of something to say.

  He cleared his throat softly “Mikyung,” He spoke after a few moments of silent and she hummed in response, looking up from her bowl of food.

  “Whatever that bastard said to you or called you…not a single one of those things is true, okay?” Mikyung nodded, as tears glossed over her eyes.

  “He had no right to make you feel insecure about something you enjoyed so much…nobody has that right to do that to someone.”

  Mikyung inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly as her gaze turned downward to the table “God…I’m sorry.” She spoke chuckling softly out of embarrassment, while she wiped away fallen tears.

  A soft smile curled at San’s lips “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for darling. I just wanted you to know that you should never let people stop you from doing things you love.”

  And just by his reassuring words, Mikyung could feel herself falling for him even more.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a single word out, a person clearing their throat stopped her. Mikyung’s head whipped around and was immediately met with her best friend.

  Her eyes widened, totally not expecting to see Wooyoung here. “Woo, what in the world are doing here? How did you even know where I was?” She questioned, while he pulled up a chair from a different chair, before sitting down.

  A grin curled on his lips “I have my ways.” He replied.

  As that interaction was happening, San looked between the two with a very confused expression. “Darling, who is this?” San spoke, causing the two of them to turn toward him.

  The grin painting Wooyoung’s features grew wider and before Mikyung could explain, he started talking. “Wow, you guys are really going all out with this, pet names and everything.” He commented.

  Mikyung rolled her eyes, while she elbowed him in his side, causing Wooyoung to mutter an ‘ow’.

  He cleared his throat, composing himself “I’m Jung Wooyoung, Mikyung’s best friend.” He said, extending his right arm.

  San’s face lit up realization “Ahh, so you’re the best friend Mikyung talks about.” He spoke, shaking Wooyoung’s hand as the latter hummed in response.

  “I’m Ch-” and before San could finish his thought, Wooyoung interrupted him by saying “I know who you are, Mikyung has the biggest cru-” Mikyung kicked him in the shin, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

  Wooyoung let out a low pained groan, along with a slew of curses. Mikyung turned back to San, with a composed smile on her lips “I apologize about him, I don’t know what his problem is.” She said and San spoke a soft ‘that’s okay’ in response, before turning back to her friend.

  “Now…” She started, crossing her arms over her torso “What happened that was so important, you had to interrupt our date?” She asked

  Wooyoung interjected with “Fake date actually.” At that Mikyung briefly turned to San, mouthing ‘he knows’ and he let out a soft ‘ahhh’ sound, while nodding his head subtly.

  “Anyway, I listened to your advice. I went back to the apartment that morning, made breakfast for us and we had a civil conversation.” Wooyoung spoke.

  Mikyung’s lips curled up in a smile as she nodded, listening intently to his words. “And I’ll have you know that we came up with a solution to the problem.”

  Mikyung hummed “And that is?” She drew out, basically sitting on the edge of her seat for his next words.

  “Well, we came to the agreement that on Chaayeon’s next trip, I would go with her.” He finally said, a wide smile gradually taking form on his lips.

  Mikyung couldn’t help but smile as well. “That’s awesome, I love that for you guys.” She spoke sincerely.

  Wooyoung’s gaze left hers, taking his bottom between his teeth, nodding his head.

  She chuckled softly, gently elbowing him in the side, causing him to look up at her “See…I told you, you two would work it out.”

He also let out a chuckle “Yeah, yeah you were right-” She gave him a look and that lead him to say, “Thank you, Mimi.”

  “Mimi, huh?” And at that Mikyung remembered that San was still there. She felt her face warm as her head turned in his direction; one of his eyebrows was quirked up and a small smirk curled on his lips.

  She let out a groan, sinking further in her chair, because she knew this was going to set Wooyoung off and lead to more embarrassment.

  An annoying grin curled at his lips, gaze briefly moving to Mikyung as he leaned forward in his chair. “Yep, that’s been her nickname since we were kids, and she absolutely hates it. But you should’ve seen how she was when she was younger-”

  And that set Wooyoung off to talk about embarrassing childhood stories with San, all the while Mikyung wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.

  By the time Mikyung stepped through the door of her apartment, she felt exhausted; Wooyoung’s antics will always and forever tire her out, but it seemed that he and San got along…so that was good at least.

  When she entered her room, instead of getting changed in more comfy clothing, Mikyung just flopped onto her bed, heaving out a long sigh as she covered her closed eyes with her right arm.

  Silence filled the space around her, the only audible being the quiet wooshing of air moving through the ventilation system and the subtle white noise was enough to allow the effects of sleep to wash over her.

  But she was suddenly pulled away from those effects, by the obnoxious buzzing of her phone; Mikyung groaned lowly, blindly reaching for her that phone sat atop the mattress. She expected the text to be from Wooyoung, but it wasn’t, instead it was from San.

  ‘I meant what I said, Mikyung’ She felt her heart stutter inside her chest as her eyes moved down to the second message. ‘You should never let anyone make you feel insecure about something you love and enjoy’.

  Her breathing caught in her throat as her vision blurred with tears, and then the third and final text buzzed through.

  ‘I hope that one day, you realize that you are talented in anything you do, and I hope you find your joy in photography again’.

  When she finished reading the message, tears were rolling down her temples.

  Mikyung exhaled deeply, a steady trail of tears continuing to roll down her temples, while her gaze naturally fell onto the black bag atop the wardrobe.

  Her eyes remained on it for a few more moments, before she eventually got out her bed, wiping away the fallen tears as she stepped closer to the wardrobe.

  She breathed out a shaky breath, reaching for the bag that had been collecting dust from its place on the wardrobe. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, while she stared down at the black camera bag, that now sat on her bed.

  She absolutely loved her camera, and she would take it literally everywhere, taking photos of everything. Photography was Mikyung’s creative outlook and something she would do when she was stressed…but all of that changed when she was dating Chanwoo.

  Every time Mikyung would show Chanwoo the photos she had taken, he would always make a snide comment…and gradually over time she had last her spark and joy for photography.

  And at that time Wooyoung had obviously noticed that she had stopped using her camera. He asked her about it, and she simply said she wasn’t feeling inspired, he believed her. That was the only time Mikyung ever lied to Wooyoung.

  But now…it was different, and she was tired of letting Chanwoo still have power over her, especially when he was stopping her from enjoying what she loved doing.

  Mikyung heaved another sigh, finally unzipping the bag and revealing the camera she loved so dearly. A smile gradually curled at her lips as she grabbed the camera from inside the bag; the weight of the camera was familiar, but unfamiliar at the same time.

  She pressed the power button and surprisingly it turned on.

   Once it was fully powered on, she held it up to her left eye, looking through the viewfinder as she spun around in place, before eventually stopping with her opened bedroom window in view.

  The sunset covered the entirety of the room in warm hues of orange and yellow. Mikyung smiled “Perfect.” She muttered, before taking the photo.

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[pain-is-too-tired]

Why Luke did have bad childhood, and definitely an interesting character, what he did is far from anything close to any of the other characters. Even Octavian(who lot more people hate more then Luke.)

We don't know Octavian's backstory but based off what we are told he likely came from an upper family who enforced the thoughts he had when we see him.

New Rome/CJ pushed anti-greek sentiment lot more than chb even thought about Romans. And then Leo's is possessed and attacks New Rome, his home, all that is confirmed in his mind. By BOO he's very clearly spiraling, but despite all that he truly wants to defeat Gaea. He just feels the greeks are another enemy to his home.

He was 18 when he died, and outside his blackmail tactics everything he did took place in a few month span of time. And he's already falling apart at the seems.

Luke is 23 when he dies. He's believed to be 19 in tlt. Which likely means when he leaves Percy to the very venomous scorpion that he just barely survives, he at least close to 20,as his birthday is probably end of summer but before Percy's.

In those years from 19-23 this is list of what he does-

-attempt murder on multiple children(as well as indirectly cause deaths of multiple children)

- was going to make Percy watch Annabeth and Grover get eaten alive before killing him just to make him suffer a bit more.

- sends unknown amount of demigods into the labyrinth where majority of them died/ went insane.

- Was complicit in what was pretty much human trafficking(both Di Angelos are nearly taken and forced into the Titan Army. Then the next year Nico is near sold to the army,as the ranch guy mentions Luke been offering payment to those who bring demigods to the army. We really dont know how long that been going on by botl)

- Manipulated and blackmail children into working with TA

- was pushing for Thaila to join knowing full well Kronos wanted her for his host(a fate described as worse than death-)

- only really seemed uncomfortable and wanting to backtrack when he was going become Kronos' host.

- we don't see him break through Kronos until he snaps at Chiron. Not even a change in facial expression or hesitantation when dozens of demigods on both sides are killed by Kronos. Not even when Annabeth is stabbed.

He maytrs himself. But that doesn't make all he did justified or to be brushed under the rug. He doesn't really get to face the consequences of his actions(if he is sent to Esylum/reborn, which personal don't believe. At least think he should go to the Fields. Even then they're not really all that aware in the fields)

Luke is a represention of someone so blinded by hatred that he looses himself. Looses his humanity. By SoM, maybe even tlt, he cared more about besting his father then anything. Yet in turn he turned and did the same onto those who looked up to and trusted him.

Percy and Annabeth are at the stage where their prefrontal cortex is less developed. That effects emotions, impulses, aggression and instinctive behaviour. And all have adhd so they're level in that regard. Yet feel as though in some cases they have much more emotional maturity and think through things more than Luke. But they're still gonna to make rash decisions and react more emotionally to things before thinking.

Trauma doesn't go away. But it's up to you to make sure you don't continue the cycle. And Luke failed at that. He failed at that for 3-4 years. But those qualities are what make his character interesting and why I feel just sweeping it under the rug is a disservice to his character. It's not naive to expect more from the grown adult then from the 12-16 yr old children. Trauma doesn't excuse actions. Especially when you have Jason and even Thaila as a comparison

not only did they grow up with a mother not at all present, but unlike May who went insane out of the love for her son and what she saw, their mother hardly gave them much love. Thaila had to raise Jason, and then Jason was abandoned just to please Hera.

Thaila later runs away and then dies. Jason spends almost all his life being raise to be nothing but a soldier for New Rome and Juno. He dies for his friends, not as a last minute choice but something he knew was coming.

Jupiter cared so little over him that Hera grieved more than him. The goddess known for hating children of her husband even says "your son" to Zeus. And in a way was more of a godly parent to Jason then jupiter

Why Hermes, who definitely wasn't perfect father to Luke, still loved Luke after everything. More than all his other children combined i argue.

I mean Chris doesn't get claimed until he's at the lostest part of his life why Hermes gets angry at a teenage girl for choosing not to trust and help the guy who nearly killed her friends and nearly had her eaten alive and crushed under the sky just cause he was upset over what happened his son(and also kinda emotionally avoiding both his own guilt and how Luke put himself in the situation he was now in- emotional avoidance i feel was a trait passed on to Luke as well)

And again,despite being younger, Jason never let's his anger be aimed at those who didn't cause his pain. He focused on making sure no one had to feel like he did.

Naive observation about PJO character flaws

I have noticed something very interesting in Percabeth and Luke discussions when it comes to flaws.

The common rhetic employed by Annabeth defenders against anti Percabeth arguments is that Annabeth had a traumatic childhood so she doesn't know any better and we can't blame her for the way she is.

But then I bet those same people will say Luke has no excuse for his actions and was evil trash who deserved to die...although his childhood was arguably worse than Annabeth's. Thalia seems to be the only one who came close to being his equal. Despite all the injustices the demigods face, Luke's anger and bitterness are waved away by PJO fandom it seems.

Pretty sure I saw someone say Percy's life was terrible but he didn't fall down Luke's path. Percy had trauma but he turned out ok, not like nasty Luke. Just another way to emphasize how much "stronger" Percy is compared to Luke. The same way Snaters will use Neville and Harry to downplay Snape's trauma.

So I guess based on that logic Annabeth is weak for letting her trauma influence her poor treatment of others?? Why does Annabeth's trauma give her freedom to treat Percy the way she does but Luke's trauma is irrelevant and downplayed?

I have a soft heart for characters with innate goodness who have been screwed over by life. Characters who could have been so much more but never got the chance to truly be happy and LIVE. I guess that's something Luke and Snape have in common. I guess another thing Luke and Snape have in common is that the hero protagonist gets all the glory for their pain and sacrifices.

[pastriibunz]

I feel like I don’t talk about bendy as THE Kai Drew father figure enough

[faaun]

we sang in the aeroplane over the sea tgth ☆

[loserelf]

feeling complicated things this wednesday at 2pm

[spotsupstuff]

Only 25% processing power dedicated to sparrows? Thats nothing! *dedicates 87% of my processing power to sparrows*

25% of an Iterator processing power has to be an equivalent to like. three or four NASA centrums combined or smth i do not know processing powers but it has to be insanely much..

n then they make some sort of plans for the night that appeal to Euros Very Much and suddenly all processing power he can spare goes to it for the whole day till the plan happens

[fairyzar]

the older i get the more confused i become in regards to my identity.

[drdemonprince]

If you’ve never been all that disobedient before, you can and should start really, really small. For example, you can wear the slightly revealing or gloriously trashy-looking garment that makes your mom roll her eyes and sigh despondently every time she sees you put it on. You will feel judged and disapproved of when you put it on, but that is fine. Your goal is to sit with the uncomfortable feelings and continue with your desired behavior anyway.  Saunter down the steps in that highlighter-yellow Garfield crop top with your chest hair flowing over the neckline, and harness as much courage as you can muster. It’s okay if you feel like a beacon of sin. Just keep it moving. Your emotions are not the target here. Your behavior is. You can feel however you are feeling in the moment so long as you keep acting like you’re free.  Do you have a favorite TV show that a partner or roommate vocally hates? Try watching that show around them without apologizing or defensively joining them in mocking the program. At first, you probably won’t be able to enjoy the show while in their presence. You’ll feel self-conscious about everything they find annoying or cringe-inducing about the show, and so focused on their reactions that you can’t relax. That’s okay. Allow those feelings of embarrassment and guilt to exist and pass through you without giving up. In time, you will be able to ignore these reactions more, and enjoy the activity.  You want to see the needle of discomfort moving down just a little, like Link’s body temperature meter in Tears of the Kingdom when he puts on a breathable outfit in a hot climate. You’re not gonna go from roiling hot to frosty cold in an instant. But after a certain point, you won’t be actively in pain anymore. Things are just gonna slowly suck less, bit by bit, until they are finally okay. That’s true of most major life adjustments, I find.  Probably the best way to develop self-advocacy skills while growing in your distress tolerance is simply by telling other people no. Do this without explanation or hedging. Nitpicky aunt wants to hear all about your dating life? “No, I don’t want to talk about that.” Unreliable ex-friend wants you to do them the tiny favor of moving their entire home gymnasium into a new third story walk-up? “No, I’m not available.” Manipulative shift supervisor wants to cajole you into sticking around for another three hours to close? “No.”  As many advice columnists smarter than me have already intoned, “no” is a complete sentence. “No” requires no explanation. “No” is not subject to debate. “No” can be repeated over and over like a broken record if a disrespectful person acts like they can’t hear it. And you can walk away at any time to make your “no” physical and impossible to argue with, when someone has proven they don’t respect your boundaries. 

you can read or listen to the full piece for free here

[cursingtoji]

cw: office au, nanami x loser!reader, semi public, oral, praising, slight emotional dependency? geto version gojo version toji version

nanami is so in love with the little office loser. he doesn’t give you much attention when you first arrive, just another presence in the office. then he starts to, unwillingly, listen to the conversation of others about giving the new clumsy girl a little rough time.

nanami watches from the corner of his eye as you quietly accepts your boss’ request to work overtime, he frowns as your boss implies under many corporate jargons that it’ll be unpaid and you should do it for the team.

“so naive” he murmurs watching you smile.

he can’t help but become infatuated with you when watching your skirt raising when you try to reach a tall shelf in the communal kitchen.

“here” he catches the coffee beans bag for you, without even needing to extend his arm much. nanami arrives so quietly that his voice scares you and you take a step back bumping into his strong body behind you and leaving a tiny squeal out, “sorry, are you okay?” he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“y-yes, thank you” he gives you space and you turn around looking at him over the thick frame of your glasses. it reminds nanami of those ads where a gorgeous woman has a pair of glasses down her nose and the caption says something like ‘single hotties in your area’. he then understands the appeal.

he keeps himself busy most days, so one day as soon as he sends an email he relaxes on his desk rolling his shoulders and looking around just in time to watch you knock a box of staples off your table. he raises from his seat to go help you but he gets a call at the same time so he sits back down to answer it while keeping his eyes on you.

you kneel picking the small items one by one. he likes seeing you on your knees. then you push your chair and crawl under the desk, trying to reach a few staples that went under the cabinet, at this point you’re with your head down on the carpeted floor and your ass up, nanami watches it with lusty eyes, just agreeing and humming to whatever the person on the phone is saying while wondering if you remember you are wearing a skirt. he watches in awe the black semi transparent pantyhose you have on stretch at the back of your thighs and the panties peeking out from underneath it.

when you get up your hair is messy and your face is flushed, you don’t think most of it, just glad to have caught every little staple. meanwhile nanami pulls his chair closer to his desk so you don’t see the volume in his pants when you pass by after basically flashing him.

nanami knows he wouldn’t last long with you around. one night he also stays overtime and you, being the extreme people pleaser you are, bring him some coffee and different sugar packets since you don’t know how he takes his coffee, but even with this simple self-assigned task you still manage to screw up and spill some on his pants immediately apologizing and getting on your knees to clean it with your sleeve. the friction on his upper thigh is making him grow hard but your teary eyes is what pushes him over the edge.

“nanami-san, don’t go home too late” the last person in the office says stepping on the elevator and waving goodbye.

“have a good night” the blond manages to say over the desk divider that hides your figure. finally knowing you two are alone kento throws his head back and allow his muscles to relax and enjoy the warmth of your mouth as you suck him.

“that’s right, sweetheart, good girl” he praises with a guiding hand on the back of your neck. it’s so good to have someone praising you in this place that your eyes water with joy. kento never meant to nut in the office but here he is, watching his cum run down your chin.

you take the small bin under his desk to spit the incriminating evidence of his pleasure so you don’t have to swallow it, “here, let’s make the clean crew think that’s matsuda’s” kento switches the bin with the one under his coworkers desk.

he hates to admit but over time he starts to look forward the times you feel overwhelmed and come to him for affection.

which leads him to the tiny copy room way too many times, making you hold the edge of your skirt and pulling your underwear and tights down to eat you out on top of the copy maker.

“keep quiet, darling” he warns knowing fully well how thin the walls are.

although you have done many unspoken things to him in this office, nanami still flusters you. every time he’s near, your thighs start to shake and your clit throbs untouched.

“come here, i’ll show you” he motions you over his desk when you ask for help with a task. you watch him perform it on the computer screen, “now you try it” he moves his chair a bit to give you space to use his keyboard and as you bend over slightly to replicate his steps he uses the opportunity to feel the skin of the back of your legs since today you don’t have any tights.

“go back, click here” he corrects still touching you, his hand comes higher, laying just under your ass cheeks, “why are you shaking? type the code there” he says like he doesn’t have a hand under your skirt.

“s-sorry” you say when making a mistake.

“it’s okay, start over” he commands, now playing with the hem of your underwear, it’s hard to do what he showed you when you can’t even guide the cursor right.

nanami pushes the material of your underwear into your folds making out the shape of your pussy through it.

“do it again with this file” he points sounding so collected it makes you even more nervous, he rubs your core so lightly, it’s almost like he’s doing it for his own pleasure, like he’s trying to make out the shape of your clit with the tips of his finger only.

“save it, and send to yourself” as you finish the task he starts to pull down your underwear looking around to make sure no one is watching when he helps you step out of the white lacy material, “well done” he bends to pick your panties, giving your leg a quick kiss — since that’s the most he can do in the office during the day—, and putting the soaked fabric in his pocket.

“thank you” you smile and slowly make your way back to your desk, though your boss calls you middle way about a mistake you made on a file and to come to his office, now you wonder how you’re supposed to make it through the day not only without underwear but also dripping wet.

[pearlymel]

A dance— Capitano

Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.

Wc : 3.2k

Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.

Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!

You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.

Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.

All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)

Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.

It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.

Like last week.

“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.

Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.

"Did you learn it from someone?”

“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”

You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.

“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.

Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.

"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”

“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”

“i don't.”

And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.

“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.

You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.

An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.

“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.

“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”

“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.

All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.

But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.

You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.

“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”

“and the colour?”

"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”

Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.

Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.

Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.

You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”

"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”

You are ready.

You are not ready.

Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?

The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.

Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.

You were here to make friends, hopefully.

You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.

And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.

Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?

Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.

But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?

You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.

“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.

"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.

The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.

Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.

He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.

"I suppose we should dance, wife.”

“you want to dance?”

"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.

You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.

Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.

"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.

"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.

Interesting.

He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.

You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.

His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.

”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”

You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.

His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.

"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.

"You look rather well tonight, as well.”

“Thank you, wife.”

The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.

You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.

As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.

You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.

But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.

"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.

"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”

He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.

Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.

“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.

you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.

The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.

Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.

Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.

The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.

He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.

“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let it breath from the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.

You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in him stir.

His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.

It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.

Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.

You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.

Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.

“Will you allow me to touch you?”

The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.

When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.

His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.

“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”

And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.

“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.

“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.

He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.

His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.

It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.

Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.

Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.

“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.

“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’

Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.

Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.

You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.

He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.

His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.

“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.

Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.

—

You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.

As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.

“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”

Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,

[joonie-beanie]

Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]

Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k

Sigewinne is evil.

You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)

It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.

You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.

Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.

…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.

“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”

Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—

“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”

And you’d responded with—

“Errand girl.”

“What?”

“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”

—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.

“Hmm. Very convincing.”

The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.

So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.

Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.

Safe to say, the two of you get along.

…which Sigewinne notices.

You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.

The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.

However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.

Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.

“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.

“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”

Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.

The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.

But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.

“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.

“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.

“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”

You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.

“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.

“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”

Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.

“What?”

She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.

“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”

Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.

Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.

“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”

Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”

You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.

Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.

“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.

“Of course!”

“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.

You nod.

“I see.”

“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”

She cutely huffs.

“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”

“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”

“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.

“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”

You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.

“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne. 

“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”

The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair. 

“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—

“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”

“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.

“Hmm…”

He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting. 

Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.

“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.

“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”

“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”

You shake your head.

“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”

Sigewinne cutely laughs. 

“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”

Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.

“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”

“Good! I want both of you to drink up.” 

Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?

“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.

Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.

You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today? 

You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.

“Oh! Y/N!” 

Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.

“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”

“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.

His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.

“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.

“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.

Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.

“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”

You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.

There’s sweat beading on his brow.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”

You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.

Your tummy starts to ache.

“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”

Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face. 

“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”

You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing. 

What’s this about doctor’s orders?

You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.

His pants feel too tight.

“Sigewinne, you did not—”

There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing. 

He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.

“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…

“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”

She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.

“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”

“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.

“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”

Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor. 

Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…

So, she decides to cut to the chase.

Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.

“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”

“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.

“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”

“Sigewinne—” 

Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.

Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.

“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.

“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”

With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.

A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.

"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."

You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.

You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.

"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."

Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.

"Have I been acting like a hardass?"

"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…

"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."

"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.

"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"

"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."

"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.

However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .

So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.

"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"

"Ah, you caught that."

He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.

"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."

"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"

"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight. 

"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"

Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth. 

"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."

You pout.

"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"

"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."

Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.

You sigh.

"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"

You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.

"And?"

You take a deep breath.

"That you're a cute puppy."

He blinks in shock.

"...excuse me?"

Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.

"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."

For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs. 

Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak. 

With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.

He coughs, pulling himself back together.

"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."

You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.

The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.

"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."

You swallow, anticipating his next words.

"Would you be…interested in having sex?"

Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.

"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded. 

"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"

"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head. 

"We are."

In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.

Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.

You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.

You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another. 

Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.

“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.

“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”

Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.

When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.

“Wh—”

Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.

“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.

“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.

“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.

“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”

Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.

Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.

“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”

His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue. 

“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.

And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.

So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.

…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.

Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.

No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.

Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.

The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.

Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…

“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.

“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light. 

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”

You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.

However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.

With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.

Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.

Shit, he thinks. 

His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.

There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—

“Let’s get you right side up.”

—and the world spins again.

Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.

You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.

You glance down at his lap.

“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”

“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”

Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.

“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.

“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”

His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.

It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.

“Here we are.”

Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots. 

By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.

His lips twitch into a little smile.

“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”

Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.

“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”

Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.

In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.

“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…” 

He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt. 

“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them. 

Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.

“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…” 

His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.

“...what say we continue like this, hm?”

Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy. 

His icy eyes catch yours.

“Any objection?”

“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets. 

Wriothesley nods—

“Good.”

—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.

Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.

His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.

Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him. 

And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.

“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.

Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.

“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—

Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!

“Fuck! ” 

You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.

The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.

…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.

You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.

Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you. 

The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.

His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.

Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…

Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.

Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.

So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.

The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.

“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”

Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.

Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.

“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin. 

“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”

You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.

Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.

He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.

Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.

To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.

“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.

Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.

“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.

You can’t take it anymore.

Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.

He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy. 

His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.

It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.

The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.

He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.

After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.

…only to realize that you’re laughing.

“...puppy…”

He props himself up, glancing at you.

“What?”

“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”

You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.

“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”

His hand rubs against your waist.

“...right?”

Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”

Wriothesley chuckles.

“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”

“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.

“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.

“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”

Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.

The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.

For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath. 

…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.

“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”

“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”

You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.

“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”

“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.

“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”

His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?

“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.

“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”

The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.

“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle. 

Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.

“So, I’ll…see you later?”

His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.

“You’ll see me later,” you promise. 

With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.

Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.

To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.

…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.

With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.

When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.

“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”

Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.

“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”

“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.

As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.

“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”

Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.

“...maybe.”

Sigewinne smiles. 

That’s good enough for her.

[A Dragon's Constitution] ->

[xo2dee]

NOW LOADING. .

JJK MASTERLIST

LAMBENT

PAIRING: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader WARNINGS: true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, pregnancy, mentions of cannibalism, sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect) WORD COUNT: 3,767 SUMMARY: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.

A/N: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍

Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.

You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.

…Husband.

In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.

You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.

One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.

Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.

You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”

Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”

A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”

And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”

Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”

“Yes, but –”

“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”

Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”

“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.

“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).

Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).

You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”

Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”

Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”

And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.

Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”

Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”

“My Lady – oh!”

Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.

Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.

You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”

Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”

You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.

A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”

You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”

Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"

In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.

Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”

Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.

Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.

And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.

Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.

You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”

“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.

“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”

How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.

An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.

Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.

Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.

You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”

Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.

You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.

Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.  

“What –”

“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”

He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.

Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…

“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.

“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”

Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”

“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”

You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.

Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.

In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”

Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.

Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”

You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.

With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.