#petticoat on demand | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enha-stars · 11 days ago

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Do It For Me ; L.HS

beg me to stop, i promise i’ll love you if you do it, so do it for me

Pairing: Advisor!Heeseung x F!Princess!Reader

Synopsis: To all the subjects, all the servants, and all other royalty, you’re next in line for the throne. You’re a Princess, their Princess. However, in the depths of the night, far away in another tower, you’re nothing but a filthy, sluty, whore. Master to all, servant to one.

Warnings: porn with plot (little plot), SMUT, p in v, MDNI, fluff, minor angst, lowkey (highkey) master/servant/ownership themes, learned new things about myself tbh, unprotected sex (don’t), switch!heeseung, switch!reader, lots of kissing, genuine trust, all consensual, both are freaks, praise & degradation, abuse of authority (both into it), minor exhibitionism, choking, oral (both), sweat kink, mentions of death & hell & religion (brief), reader has big boobs bcuz i do (not sorry), biting, spit (lots of it), reader has hair long enough to pull, brief lactation kink, crying, overstimulation, 11.9k words

A/N: Well. I didn't think my comeback would be linked to a five second hentai scene I stumbled across, but alas, here we are. This is for my girls, my freakhoonz, who have been so patient with me. I'm pretty proud of this one, actually.

The morning sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows of the castle’s grand dining hall, painting the ancient stone walls with golden hues. The air was crisp, the faint scent of lavender from the nearby gardens carried in on the light breeze.

Despite the magnificence of the room–the high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes, the crystal chandelier that sparkled like captured starlight–it felt eerily empty.

You sat at the center of the impossibly long mahogany dining table, a gown of soft ivory silk pooled around you, delicate lace cuffs brushing against your wrists as you reached for your teacup, the scent of chai wafting through the air. The delicate porcelain looked almost fragile in your hands, a stark contrast to the quiet stiffness in your posture.

You glanced up briefly at the empty seats surrounding you, expression unreadable. The solitude of the grand room seemed to weigh heavily but you bore it with practiced grace, familiar with the chilling quietness that had long seeped into your bones.

Behind you stood your advisor, his figure tall and shadow-like in the glow of the morning light. He remained still, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, his brown eyes watchful. “You’ve hardly touched your breakfast, Your Highness,” he said, his voice low, measured.

You sighed softly, setting your teacup down with a faint clink. “I’m not that hungry,” you replied, tone polite but distant. You toyed with the edge of your napkin, gaze drifting toward the massive windows. Beyond them, the lush gardens stretched endlessly, the vibrant colors of the blooms concentrated well with the muted grays and browns of the castle’s interior.

Servants moved quietly around the room, their footsteps muffled by thick rugs. A maid approached with a tray, setting down a plate of freshly baked pastries. You nodded in silence acknowledgement before the new, baby pink she was adorned in caught your eye. She barely noticed as she bowed, silently walking away.

You stared at her departing figure, intrigued by her outfit. It was new; with a white, crisp blouse with a lace trim on the collar, the baby pink apron consisted of a full bib that had covered her chest with wide straps that criss crossed along her back, the skirt of the apron was pleated as it rested on the petticoat. In sum, it was beautiful. You had half a mind to call her back, just so you could simply admire the subtle embroidery that you were sure consisted of different floral patterns.

Heeseung stepped closer, his voice softening. “The day ahead will demand much of you, Princess. Perhaps a few bites, if only to sustain yourself.”

Instead of answering him, you pointed to the empty space that the maid had retreated to. “What was she wearing, Heeseung? Has mother changed their uniform once again?”

Heeseung nodded, and although you could not see it, you felt it. “Yes, Your Highness. The Queen suggested something that would lighten the castle. They have just arrived from Japan.”

“Hm,” you hummed. You leaned back in your chair, picking at a sugar cookie. Expression laced with something unspoken and a faint smile, you tilted your head in question. “What do you think?”

“About what, Princess?”

“The maid outfits. Poor things have to wear them all the time, don’t they?”

Heeseung narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, the sides of his lips twitching at the faux sympathy in your voice, hiding your intrigue. “They are certainly prettier than their older garments. As long as they look good, I believe the Queen will remain satisfied.”

Wiping your fingers with your napkin, you folded it in half and set it beside the tray. “You think so? Mother is hard to please.”

“For the sake of the maids, I hope so.”

The faintest laugh escaped you, so quiet it might have gone unnoticed if not for the way his lips curved ever so slightly in response. Despite the coldness of the wide room, the warmth that Heeseung’s honesty provided you was enough, unusually so.

Interrupting the moment, Heeseung stepped forward, placing a folded parchment on the table beside your plate. “The morning reports, as you requested,” he said, his tone reverting to its usual professionalism.

You glanced at the parchment but made no move to open it. Instead, your eyes flickered to his retreating hand, catching the faintest twitch of his fingers. You knew that if you turned back, you would have caught his expression, sure of the soft hesitation that would have lingered.

Instead, you smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Heeseung.”

Before you could pick it up, his voice brushed against your ear. “Would you like me to read it to you, Princess?”

“Would you, Heeseung? I’m not quite in the mood.”

He stepped forward, fingers brushing against the paper before he picked it up. “Of course, Princess. Anything for you.”

His words weren’t unique, they had been uttered a few times an hour daily, but they were different when he said them. There was a certain…genuinity to them, a quiet promise just for you.

You loved it.

Reveled in it, even.

Sighing, Heeseung pushed open the large wooden door to his quarters. He was lucky enough to be liked by the King to receive his own space, no matter how minimal it was, it was his. He could do whatever–whoever–he wanted to.

Rolling his shoulders, he dragged his feet and stretched his neck, rubbing at the knot he was sure was forming. His dark blue tunic was crinkled by the bottom and all he wanted to do was take a warm bath and wash away the dirt of the day.

He pushed his bedroom door open, ready to sink onto the floor when a familiar, too familiar, irritated voice called out to him, draining the tension from his body and igniting a fire in the pit of his stomach.

“Finally!” You stood across from Heeseung, arms crossed. “What took you so long? I requested for father to let you leave the meeting early.”

“Princess?” Heeseung slammed the door shut, pressing his back against it, mouth agape. He was staring at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. He clutched the neck of his tunic, as if his panic was clawing at him. As if you hadn’t found yourself in his bedroom, many times before.

“Well?” You raised your eyebrow. “What kept you?” There was a certain edge to your voice, one Heeseung had heard in meetings and gatherings, the voice of royal blood, companding, booming, and oh so luring.

His throat dried up immediately, blinking once, twice, before you tilted your head and he straightened. It didn’t matter that you stood in front of him in one of the new maid outfits, all tangled and mismatched, strings undone and pieces folded, he still had to answer to you, still a subject.

“The King,” he began, trying to even out his breathing and push all the darker thoughts back into the depths of his brain, “he wanted new territory lines drawn.”

Still standing in the middle of the room, you were a masterful figure, illuminating his room better than the few candles that were littered around his room. “And did you? Help him? Advise him,” you whispered, mocking his discomposure.

Heeseung swallowed, slowly pushing himself off his door. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Instead of answering him, you simply smiled at him, and his legs almost wobbled at the sight. It was different here, seeing you so close, face to face, when he often spent time behind you, deciphering your moods and expressions by the twitch of your ears and stiffness of your shoulders. Like this, with you standing before him, he almost couldn’t handle it.

You were the prettiest in the land, the most beloved jewel of the kingdom, but standing in the dim light of his flickering candles with disheveled clothes and a curved smile, one just for him–he thought you had never looked more beautiful.

He was almost completely undone.

“Your Highness,” he stepped towards you, “what are you doing here?” He knew. He knew. But he wasn’t bold enough to want it, not yet.

Grinning at his question, you spread your arms and motioned towards your body. “I wanted to try this on. It looked so pretty.”

“Yes,” Heeseung nodded, “it does. But why here?” You were always bolder than him, at least in the beginning.

Your eyes shined with something sinister, something lustful, something he could have been hung for, and he wanted it. He wanted to taste it. He wanted to drown in it.

“To show you, of course. But I seemed to have done this wrong.” You pouted, a bit frustrated at yourself for failing to put on a maids outfit. Surely you were more capable.

Heeseung sucked in a sharp breath at your words, his heart beating loudly in his head. He had an inkling, the smallest of feelings that you would pull something like this but he hadn’t thought about it, hadn't gone as far as to want it, in case he was wrong.

He rarely ever was.

“Help me, will you?” You stepped towards him and smiled softly, peering up at him with shiny eyes. “Help me put this on.”

Heeseung held his breath for a second, looking for any hesitation, any sign that would immediately push all his sinful thoughts out of his mind, but all he saw was pure, unfiltered trust in your eyes. You wanted this, whatever it was, you wanted it completely.

He’d give it to you. Of course he would. He’s never denied before you.

“Of course, Princess.” He reached out and gently brushed his fingers against your arm, igniting a raging fire in the pit of your stomach, and he knew he had you. He maneuvered you closer to his bed, closer to the candles so he could see you properly, before he began undoing the laces and straps of the apron, his nimble, long, and veiny fingers gently ghosting over your skin but never touching.

Breathing in his scent, the mixture of musk, old wood, and his sweat made you want to bite into his skin. You stood still as he moved around you, towering over you as he undid the mess you had made of yourself. His fingers brushed against your skin, nails barely grazing your clothed body, and it was almost enough.

When he got to your chest, you felt him hold his breath and you purposefully pressed further into him, forcing his fingers to graze your erect nipple. You had abandoned your corset, letting your breasts press freely against the cotton material. As he shifted the apron to cover your chest–or as much as he could–you tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck.

Heeseung wanted to lick the exposed skin but he bit his tongue instead. He had to be patient. Right now, he was still your subject. You were still his master, he was yours to command.

After a few moments, he tied the final bow in the back and breathed down your neck for one, quick second before he stepped back.

“There you are, Princess.”

Slowly, you turned around and tilted your head in that endearingly dangerous way and smiled at him, shiny eyes staring up at him. “How do I look?”

Like I should be on my knees worshipping you, he wanted to say.

Instead, he whispered, “Beautiful. You always look beautiful, Princess.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling at his wondrous expression.

“Beautiful enough to serve you?” You fluttered your eyelashes, licking your lips in delight.

Pupils blown wide, Heeseung swallowed his tongue.

“Pardon?”

Smiling at his dumbfoundedness, you moved towards him, grinning when he stepped back. You continued to step towards him until the back of his legs hit the edge of his bed and he fell back, staring up at you like he was afraid you’d eat him at the first sign of weakness.

Before Heeseung could find proper footing, you were sinking to your knees and he suddenly couldn’t breathe all over again. You found a comfortable position between his legs, resting your cheek against his thigh, staring at him as if he was the only thing you wanted to focus on.

Holding himself up by his arms, Heeseung tried to control his breathing. “Princess,” he gasped out. “What are you doing?” He let out a strangled breath when you brushed your smaller, delicate hand against his growing bulge.

“What does it look like, Heeseung? I’m serving you.” You twisted the threads of his trousers before undoing them. His hand landed on yours, almost fervently. He squeezed once and you glanced up at him.

“Tonight,” you whispered against his inner thigh, “I serve you. I’m yours to command.” Pressing a soft kiss to his thigh, you trailed your fingers all over his pelvis.

“My master.”

Heeseung couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t breathed in quite some time and he was surely never going to breathe again. Despite your words, the soft shift of power, he knew that like this, between his legs, you had all the control.

You tapped the waistband of his trousers and in less than a second, he had pulled them off. They pooled between his legs, sinking to the floor and you gathered them before pulling them right off, leaving him completely naked from the waist down.

You started at his ankles, fingers pressing down on his sun-kissed skin, fingernails grazing upwards, watching in fascination as goosebumps erupted on his skin. Reaching his thighs, you spread his legs further, swallowing the whisper of a whimper he released, and kissed his inner thigh until it was littered in little red marks, fading quickly. You kissed his other thigh, licking and nibbling the skin, acutely aware of the way Heeseung had begun to shift under your hold.

Once you were satisfied with the constellations you had etched onto his skin, you lifted your head and almost gasped at the way he was leaking, his tip red and veiny. Mesmerized, you leaned forward, but before you continued, you shifted your eyes to his and found nothing but darkness staring back at you. His bambi eyes, the ones you loved so dearly, had been replaced by something predatory.

Yet, you could see the softness threaded into the crinkles of his skin, the way he refused to move, to touch you, unless you made it clear that you wanted him to. You rested your cheek against his inner thigh and smiled up at him.

“Can I?” Your voice was low, a mere brush of air against his skin, but he heard you. “Please, Hee. Can I?”

Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded. You blinked up at him, unmoving. Swallowing the lust that had clawed its way to his throat, Heeseung tilted his head forward. “Go ahead, Princess.”

His rough, almost choked voice vibrated against your heart and you slowly lifted your head and shifted as close as you could get to him, knees scraping against the wood of his bed. He didn’t know what to expect, unsure of your next moves. He hated being so disheveled, so not-in-tune with you, but he couldn’t complain, not when you leaned forward and pressed your nose against the base of his cock.

Jerking forward, Heeseung barely had enough time to cry out your name before you licked a long stripe from his base to his tip, circling your tongue around him once before you repeated the action once more. All his empty words died in his throat as he released a shaky breath at the feeling of your warm mouth taking him in, engulfing him completely.

Pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, you could taste the salty taste of his sweat and precum. It took over your senses and you shifted upwards, circling your tongue around his tip before sucking, the taste of him took over your senses. Pooling some spit on your tongue, you let it drip down his length as you wrapped your hand around him, using his own precum mixed with your spit as lube, jerking your hand up and down as you continued to press soft kisses around his tip.

Heeseung groaned, his breathing getting heavier as his legs spasmed around you. You put a bit of pressure on his legs with your arms so he wouldn’t move too much, needing the taste of him down your throat more than you needed anything else, so you sucked on his tip harder, slopplier without stopping the motion of your hand.

“Y/n,” his broken voice moaned out.

Your name on his lips made your legs quiver and you looked up to the sight of his eyes screwed shut, head thrown back. His face had flushed pink and a thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead, his hair half brushed back and half sticking to his skin. His chest was rising rapidly and he looked so beautiful, hands clenched tightly as his legs flexed continuously.

Without stopping, you used your free hand, the one that had been pressing into his skin, to grab his fisted hand. His eyes opened at the touch and he watched with amazement as you uncurled his fingers and guided them to your hair. Instantly, they curled around the strands and you hummed in satisfaction, making his cock twitch in your mouth.

“I’m–Oh, fuck,” he whimpered out, his voice cracking, and you pushed him further down your throat, ignoring the burn because the sound of his broken voice was addictive, it was sweeter than the honey farmed in your land, and it satisfied you more than any of your fingers ever could have.

His grip on your hair tightened and you wanted to giggle when he slowly began controlling your movements, pushing your head down until the tip grazed the back of your throat and you gagged around him, squeezing your own legs together.

“That’s it, Princess,” he whispered. He pulled at your hair a bit, trying to give you the opportunity to breathe but you didn’t want to, so you licked along one of his veins and you glanced up at the exact moment his eyes rolled back into his skull and he moaned, loud and raspy and so broken.

Your free hand trailed his skin, sliding up his tunic and you felt the way his abs flexed, the way his thighs shook as his head slowly fell back, the pleasure overwhelming. His grip on your hair loosened further and you licked at the tip once more before kissing his balls, your hand still wrapped around his length, tight and warm.

Heeseung was close to crying, he was gasping and he could feel the coil in his abdomen tighten further as you licked and sucked on his balls, seeing stars and almost losing feeling in his arms when you nibbled at one of them. His chest rose rapidly, almost as if he was a man in his last moments of life. He could feel it, the way every muscle in his body had flexed, constricted against his will.

“Fuck, I can’t.”

Choosing to fondle his balls instead, you licked up his shaft only to suck on his tip, staring up at him, fascinated at the way his adam's apple bobbed painfully against his skin and the way his skin had flushed even more.

When the pleasure became too much, too blinding, Heeseung threaded his fingers back into your hair, and pulled. “Stop.” He pulled until it hurt, until he had pulled you off his dick and it rested against your cheek instead. “Enough.” His voice was guttural, vibrating against your teeth.

You blinked up at him, mouth agape. His eyes fluttered shut at the sight of you; hair a matted mess, lips plump and bruised, eyes blown wide, and his precum and your own drool dripped down the sides of your mouth. He could have cummed at the sight alone, but he wanted to be inside you.

He had to be inside you.

Slowly, his hand slid from your hair to your face. He cupped your cheek, eyes smiling softly when you leaned into his hand. He wiped the drool off your lips with his thumb only to bring his finger to his mouth. You felt your pussy flutter around nothing and he didn’t have to hear it to know you almost whined.

He brought his hand back to your face, trying to ignore the urge to push his cock back into your mouth, and wiped away your tears. You looked surprised, not even realizing you had begun to cry.

“How did I do?” Your voice was hoarse, a bit broken, and his cock twitched. He rarely had the chance to ever hear it like this. He brought his other hand to your face, cupping both your cheeks and forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Perfect. Always so perfect, Princess.” He could see it in your eyes, the need. So he gave it to you. “Serving me so well. You take such good care of me.”

Your eyes lit up at the praise and he almost cooed, despite being on the urge of cumming. If he had this, if he had you like this, he wanted to enjoy it. And, above all, he wanted you to enjoy it.

He was good at giving you what you needed, not just what you wanted.

“Stand up for me, Princess.” He brushed his fingers against your neck. “Stand up.”

Immediately, obediently, you managed to stand on shaky legs. Heeseung’s gaze traveled from your skirt to your apron, eyes focused on your nipples poking through. Despite fixing your attire earlier, it was all twisted and wet now. He loved it.

You looked at him expectantly and he almost gave it up, almost begging for you to take him, to have him anyway you wanted him, but he couldn’t. A bigger, more selfish part of him couldn’t.

“Strip for me.” When you began pulling at the strings, he coaxed out, “Leave the apron.”

Your fingers paused before quickly pulling off the blouse, biting your lip when the cold air brushed against your skin. You pulled down the skirt and kicked it all to the side until you stood in nothing but the pink apron. It barely covered your chest and left your entire backside exposed, but you loved it; loved the way Heeseung’s eyes drank you in, eyes becoming impossibly darker.

“Come here,” he motioned. You moved towards him, stepping between his legs. At once, he was gripping your hips and pulled you in, his face pressing into your stomach. He breathed you in, trying to burn the memory of you like this into his soul, hoping that when he goes, you’d greet him to the gates of hell like this, ever so enticing, so perfect.

Even though he hadn’t given you permission, your hands found home in his long, shaggy black hair. You brushed your fingers through it, loving the length. He looked up at you and you almost, almost, wanted to ring the local church, wanted to tell them they had it all wrong because one of their angels, one of the sinful devils was here with you.

The look in Heeseung’s eyes had changed. You could see it, feel it in his gaze. The way he looked at you now was anything but sweet. He wanted to eat you whole, in pieces if he had to.

“Want to please me? Make me cum?” He spoke against your stomach, the cloth of the apron muffling his words but you heard him. Your knees weakened in response. You nodded, “Yes.”

You could feel the curve of his smile against your skin as he pressed soft, open mouthed kisses to your stomach. You hadn’t noticed his trailing hand until it landed on your ass and he squeezed hard. You almost yelped at the feeling and jerked forward, his other hand steadying you. You held onto his shoulder, his hair, as his hand grazed your backside, fingers drawing circles on the fat of your skin.

At once, Heeseung shifted and lifted his head, looking up at you. His eyes met yours and you both stared at each other, millions of unsaid words, thoughts, filling the minimal air between you both. The way Heeseung looked at you now, like he was staring up at the starry night sky, absolutely bewildered by the stars that littered the sky, it was better than anything else anyone could have ever given you. You’d trade all your fancy dresses, all your jewels, every single piece of gold you could get your hand on for him, just for him to look at you like this for the rest of your life, like you’re something precious, something beautiful, more than just the blood that ran through your veins.

The weight of your look was too much for him, too terrifying, so he caught your wandering hand instead and rested it on his cheek. He leaned into it and you soothed the skin under his eyes, noticing for the first time just how strained it was. Heeseung kissed the edge of your palm before he pushed himself upwards on the bed until his back rested against the headboard.

You watched him closely, watching the way his length still stood hard and tall but he paid it no mind. His eyes were on you. They had and always would be on you. He spread his legs, his muscles flexing before he patted his lap. “Come, Princess.”

Obeying him immediately, you hastily, ungracefully, crawled towards him and his hands, his large, needy, hard working hands, grabbed you, caressing your skin softly as he settled you on his lap, the apron bunching up between your bodies. He paid little attention to his throbbing dick and more to the warmth of your cheeks, the bashfulness he could see in your eyes.

Like the good girl you were, or wanted to be, you kept your hands to yourself and waited for him. Heeseung smiled at your patience and squeezed your hips once before he rested against the wood, ignoring the way it pierced his skin. You were soaking, knowing that your own wetness coated your thighs, making the apron stick to you in all sorts of uncomfortable ways.

“Take off my tunic, Princess. Undress me.” There was something menacing in his soft voice, a slight tease at her, at her skill. Surely a maid like her, a servant, could undo a simple tunic, his voice had said.

You nodded and reached for the tightly done threads, fingers trembling as you slowly pulled and loosened his collar, keeping your eyes on his chest. If you had lifted them, you’d see the way Heeseung was lazily resting against the headboard, the way his hair was a mess, the glint in his eyes that promised demise. He’d kept himself at bay for now, towing the power between himself and you, but when he took it again, completely and unruly, he’d have broken you tenfold.

Once the neck of his tunic had loosened, you grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled up, smiling briefly at his immediate compliance, lifting his arms. You tossed his shirt to the side somewhere, solely focused on his skin, his solid, glistening chest.

“Go ahead,” he smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. “Touch me.”

Gingerly, you lifted both your hands and settled them on his chest. Heeseung’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your cold hands on his burning body, the way you were gentle as you grazed his toned abs, the way your fingers paused on all the cuts and scars that littered his body.

“Can I?” You didn’t lift your eyes, focused on a new scar right above his heart. Heeseung’s hand travelled from your hip to your stomach and he pushed down.

“Yes.” He swallowed. “Please.”

Gently, like he was fragile, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the scarred tissue. His breathing hitched, his grip on you tightened, and he was a complete goner when your kisses became heavier, sloppier, and soon, his entire chest was littered with the remnants of your saliva.

Pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Heeseung lifted your head, his gaze almost scoldering. He looked between your eyes, trying to find any hesitation, before he glanced down at your lips. Unconsciously, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, a habit you had yet to grow out of.

Sliding his thumb upwards, he coaxed you to release your lip and when he did, he pressed down and you shifted on his lap, his length brushing against the apron and he winced, a mixture of pleasure and pain shadowing across his face.

“I’m going to kiss you, Princess.” Heeseung was already breathless, unsure if he was warning you or asking, only wanting your plush lips against his.

“Please,” is all you managed to whisper out. If the kingdom could see you now, begging and writhing on top of Heeseung, a man not of royal blood or even any land. They’d never understand, you decided.

What it felt like to be wanted like this.

Sliding his hand up from your waist to your throat, he wrapped his fingers gently enough to entice you. Your hands laid flat on his chest and you could feel the rapid pace of his heart, knowing he wanted this just as much, if not more.

Pulling your head down, he tilted his chin to meet your lips in the middle. His lips, plush and pink, brushed against yours and you tilted your head, trying to chase him. His grip on your throat tightened and he kept you where he wanted you. He brushed his lips against yours once more, smiling against your pout.

“Pretty thing,” he cooed. “You’ll take what I give you.”

You whimpered against his lips, keeping your eyes on his. You knew he was being generous, knew he was being kind and sweet, the version of him you loved, but it wasn’t the one you needed. You needed him to abuse the power you had easily surrendered.

“How bad?” He asked against your lips, brushing his lips against your chin, nose, cheek. “How bad do you want this, Princess?”

“Very,” you whispered against his lips. “Please, Heeseung.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of your chin. “Begging for me like this. What would your mother say?”

At the mention of your mother, the Queen, you shifted on his lap once more, his length brushing deliciously against your soaked core. His grip on your throat tightened just for a second before he composed himself.

Unsure whether or not he wanted an answer, you parted your lips to say something, anything, and he interrupted you by crashing your lips against his, swallowing your surprised gasp greedily. His lips moved roughly against yours, so perfect, as one of his hands slid down to your ass, gripping tightly as he moved your hips against his, not caring for the way the apron you had on had been completely soaked by now.

His grip on your throat tightened once more and you moaned into his mouth, moving your lips feverishly against his. Heeseung slipped his tongue into your mouth, tracing the crevices of your teeth and gums before sucking on your tongue, guiding your hips so your cunt rubbed against the side of his cock.

His eyes almost rolled back at the lack of air and he pulled back, mesmerized by the string of spit that connected both of your lips. He pulled further away, just to see how far he could stretch the glistening string before it broke, surging forward to lick it from the edge of your mouth.

He licked and kissed down your throat, his hand sliding downwards until both his hands were focused on the bow on your lower back. He pulled it apart as he nibbled and sucked your neck, only pulling away to pull the apron off your head. His lips immediately reattached to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone and your head fell back, trying to pry yourself open for him.

Heeseung bit down on the skin just above your collarbone and you cried out, hands flying to his hair, gripping for dear life. He grinned against your skin and pulled at your own hair, making you arch for him so he could reach your breasts better.

He began kissing down your body, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to the skin between your breasts, licking and sucking, swallowing the taste of your sweet sweat, knowing he’d fight a war for the taste.

You were a mess above him, head thrown back and eyes sewn shut, incoherent mumbles and whimpers leaving your lips as you pulled and scraped his hair and the nape of his neck. Your entire body was on fire and you almost couldn’t breathe.

Under a trance, Heeseung pressed a soft kiss on one of your breasts, his fingers brushing the nipple of the other. He kitten-licked your swollen, aching bud before latching on, sucking and kissing, circling his tongue as if he could have convinced your body to submit to him completely, as if he could milk you dry.

His other hand pinched and squeezed your other nipple, before he released your swollen and wet nipple with a pop, not even breathing as he latched onto the other one. All of your senses were going crazy, overwhelmed to the point of hysteria and tears. Heeseung jerked his hips upwards, pulling you impossibly closer and flush against him, his cock sliding perfectly between your soaked folds.

Once he’s sure that he’s marked every inch of you, every inch of your supple skin red and pinched, he pulls away and revels in what he sees. You’re gripping onto him tightly, grinding yourself against him, head thrown back as a sheen layer of sweat coats your throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

His voice breaks the trance you seem to be in and you slowly halt your movements and tilt your head forward, eyes locking on his. He pushes himself up, resting his forehead against yours as both of your chests heave. You lean forward and press a swift kiss to his swollen lips, licking his bottom lip. He lets you have it because he captures your lips again, heart beating rapidly against your chest as his arms circle your waist.

“Ready to make me cum?” He asks, voice unbelievably gravelly and hoarse. He knows that if you simply touched him, simply grazed his tip with your fingers, he’d cum like he never has before.

“I need to,” you tell him. “Please, Heeseung. Use me.” You’re so earnest in your words, the way your eyes shine with trust and lust, like he could do anything to you and you’d let him.

A darker, sinister part of him wants to know how far he could go before you stop him.

Heeseung grins at you, a curve of his lips, teeth on display as his hands slide up and down your exposed thighs. “Ride me, Princess.” He watches the way your eyes widen, he can feel the way your pulse quickens, and he wants to be the only person to ever see you like this. He wraps one of his hands around his hard, leaking cock and slides up and down once. “Ride me like the good, pretty little slut you are.”

Your pussy flutters at his words and he can feel it against his legs. He almost, almost, loses it right there and then and has half a mind to flip you over but he needs to prolong this. So, instead, he brushes the back of his hand against your cheek, looking as sinful as ever.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you held onto his shoulders with trembling arms and slowly lifted your knees. Like the saint he could sometimes be, Heeseung gripped the underside of your thighs, helping lift your body.

Exhaling a short breath, you gripped his cock and lined him up with your entrance. The soft scrape of his tip against your pussy was almost enough, but you wanted more, needed more. With his red tip positioned at your entrance, you slowly sunk down, moaning loudly.

The satisfying tightening and burn of his veins against your gummy walls made you both moan in unison, your body falling limp into his as you sunk down completely, the base of his cock hitting your core. The stretch felt amazing, so good, and all you could do was tuck your face into the crook of his neck, biting back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans out, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping your skin. “Fuck, so fucking tight.” You press a soft kiss to his neck and he jerks his hips upwards, filling you to the brim, his tip reaching parts of you only he had discovered.

“Move,” he ordered, weakly. “Fuck yourself on my cock, Princess. Just like you said you would, like you want to.”

Your head fell back onto his chest and you bit his shoulder, holding onto his neck tightly as you used all your strength to move. He twitches inside you, against your sensitive walls, and you almost cry out. As if sensing your distraught, one of his hands grips your waist protectively and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your head.

Lifting your legs, you slowly moved on his lap, sliding him in and out of your pussy. His hold on your waist helped lift you up and down, guiding you to a delicious pace. Once you find your rhythm, Heeseungs hands slide from your waist to your ass, resting there.

He throws his head back when you begin to jump on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass. Your grip on his shoulders is piercing, he can feel his skin breaking as you dig your nails into his skin, the creak of his bed is loud in the room filled with your moans.

You slow down, pressing down on his length to catch your breath. Grinding on his lap, his cock brushes against all your sweet spots, stretching your walls with a familiar enough burn. As you wriggle around on his cock, Heeseung’s eyes fly open and he stares at you with a heavy lidded gaze.

“Tired already, Princess?” He chokes out, trying to be amused but his voice breaks. You don’t answer him, you can’t answer him, so he cooes at you instead and slides his hands up your sweaty body until his hand rests on your throat and he grips it, forcing your eyes open when he presses down with his thumb.

Your eyes fly open and there are tears in your eyes as you try to push him to the brim, needing him to cum inside you before you lose your mind. “Heeseung,” you breathe out, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“I got you, Princess,” he whispers against your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I got you.”

He kneads the flesh of your ass before he grips on tightly and thrusts into you. He begins fucking into you at an unsteady pace, your jaw going slack as his tip presses against your cervix with each thrust, making your eyes roll back.

You could feel each and every vein bulging against your walls as he pounded into you, your hands flying to the headboard when his pace became rougher, more animalistic.

“Wanting to serve me,” he mumbles against your throat, licking and biting your skin. “Can’t even fuck herself on my cock for long,” he chastises, spreading your ass so he could fuck into you harder. He bites into your skin sharply, almost breaking skin, and you tug at his hair, whimpering loudly.

He can’t stop his rough movements, his thrusts never faltering as he brings you both closer to your release, abdomens twisting and churning. You felt your ears ringing when he pulled your hair, exposing your neck to him. His lips found home on your breasts, licking and biting as his cock continued to slide in and out of you at an abusing rate.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Imagine if others saw you like this.” At his own words, his pelvis jerked upwards, grazing that gummy, sensitive part inside you. He’d kill whoever saw you like this. But the thought of his Princess, the Princess, being dumb and sloppy for his dick for an audience made his legs burn.

“Don’t–” You started, voice breaking when he pinched your nipple.

“Don’t want what?” He asked, glancing up at you. “Tell me.”

“Don’t want others to see me,” you whispered. You looked down at him and smiled hazily, eyes unfocused and spit coating your lips.

“Just you.”

Desperation clawed at Heeseung and his thrusts became erratic as he pushed your body flush against him, forcing your hips to match his bruising pace as more slick poured from your legs and onto his lap and sheets, your needy moans mixed with his broken ones.

“Close–I’m, oh,” you stuttered out, eyes closing when Heeseung’s fingers grazed your clit, his own eyes shutting for a second when your walls squeezed him impossibly tight as he pressed his fingers against your clit. He could feel it, the dizzying feeling of euphoria building in his chest, the way it was running through his veins. He could tell you felt it too by your breathing, the way your pussy was weeping for him.

Stars danced around in your vision and he knew his own vision mirrored yours, the tightness in his core was almost unbearable and he tipped his head forward and pressed his lips against yours, smiling briefly when your hold on him tightened. “Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock,” his voice was sweet, borderline crazed.

You fell limp in his arms when he thrusted into you once, twice, right against your cervix, and you had come undone for him, release washing over you, body weak as your legs shook on top of Heeseung’s. His hands were all over your body, caressing your skin to comfort you as your body convulsed for him.

His lips were littering soft kisses to any skin he could reach, and when your walls tightened completely, coating his cock in your cum, he softly cried out your name as warm ropes of his cum filled you to the brim.

You could barely blink, senses still overwhelmed as he kept kissing you, kept cumming, filling you up so well, until you could almost taste him. Quiet praises filled with love and encouragement were whispered against your skin as he remained buried up to the hilt in you, his hips still pushing his cum into you, almost as if he had no control over himself.

Your entire body was shaking and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, rubbing your back gently until your whimpers turned into heavy breathing, until all you could mumble was some variation of his name. He forced his hips to still, forced himself to breathe deeply.

Bodies sticky and sweaty, he ran his hands up and down your back, nails grazing your skin to ground you. He was sure he was still cumming but if he could distract you, keep your attention on anything other than your overly stimulated, stuffed pussy, he’d do so.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed lovingly, kissing the shell of your ear. “I got you.” He smiled when he felt you nod in the crook of his neck. “Did so well for me, Princess.” You simply hummed in response, unable to form any sentences at the moment. Heeseung rested his cheek against your head, fighting the urge to grind his hips against yours.

You breathed in Heeseung’s scent slowly, head safely tucked in the crook of his neck. The way he held you now, so soft, so lovingly, had your heart settling. You still could barely feel your legs, moaning lightly when his cock twitched inside you. Wrapped around his body, you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck, sucking softly when he tilted his head to give you more access.

Your fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck and he shuddered. You could have fallen asleep right there and then, with his cock stuffed safely in your pussy, sticky wetness fusing your both together.

But, as you should have known, Heeseung had other plans. Gently, oh, so gently, he coaxed you up. The movement had you both hissing but he was quick to steady you, quick to brush your hair from your face. You stared at him and his legs wobbled at the look in your eyes. You brought a hand up to his face and traced the length of his eyebrow, brushing your fingers down his nose, and along his nose.

“Pretty,” you mumbled, and he leaned forward and kissed you softly.

It was different, slower, more intimate as he cupped your cheek and tilted his head, lips plush against yours. You moaned into his mouth at the intimacy of it; the way his cock was still buried inside you, the way your mixed juices still leaked out of you, the gentle caress of his hand as he whispered loving praises into your mouth.

Your hand trailed down his face until it rested against his throat. In a surge of confidence, a sudden flicker of realization, you pushed down on his adam's apple and he moaned into your mouth, tightening his hold on you.

Before you could indulge yourself, take back the power you had so easily given way, Heeseung was lifting you, he held you close as he pushed up on his legs and you held onto him tightly as he guided you to fall back on the mattress, his cock still buried deep within you.

You stared up at him in bewilderment and he grinned, a wicked look in his eyes as he leaned over you, pressing a kiss to your nose. Your legs had naturally lifted and he rested them against his shoulders, needing the access. He grinded his hips against yours and smiled devilishly when your walls clenched around him.

“Not so fast, Princess,” he nipped your chin. He dragged his lips down your throat, leaving a trail of saliva. “You’re still here to serve me, aren’t you?” His breath was hot against your ear, voice tantalizing.

You nodded and wriggled under him, needing any sort of friction. He gripped your hips and halted your movements. “Behave,” he mumbles. Just when you’re relaxing against his hold, shoulders loosening and back straight on his mattress, he tightens his hold on your hips and pulls you forward, pelvis’ meeting as his tip digs deeper into you.

Crying out, you clutch his arms, digging your nails into his skin. He stays there for a moment, buried deep inside of you, cock twitching in sensitivity, to catch his breath. He glances up at you and breathes out a quiet laugh.

At the sound, you open your eyes and glance up at him, smiling at the sound. He leans down and kisses your lips softly before peppering small kisses down your neck. He slowly guides your legs back down, settling on either side of him as he kisses down your body, licking and nibbling.

He slowly shifts his body downwards, coming to lay between your legs. When he pulls his cock out of your seeping hole, he watches in absolute amazement as his seed drips out of you. He watched until it stopped, blowing onto your folds just to watch them flutter.

You lay there, mind on overdrive as the immense pleasure from all your muscles begged to lull you asleep. Instead, you dug your hands into his hair and ran your fingers through the matted threads, needing to ground yourself.

Heeseung takes his time as he reaches your breasts, kissing around them both softly before he sucks on each nipple interchangeably. When you moan out his name, he continues on, kissing and licking down your stomach. He presses a wet kiss to your belly button and despite the sensual environment, soft laughter erupts from your throat at the feeling and Heeseung rests his forehead against your stomach at the sound.

He lifts his head and rests his chin on your stomach, simply staring at you. You’re looking down at him, eyes shiny with a small, bright smile on your lips and he can’t help but smile brightly at your joy. He almost says it, almost begs you to accept his devotion, but he simply presses a kiss to your hip.

“I’d go to war for it,” he whispered against your skin.

“For what?” Your hand is in his hair again and your nails scrape against his scalp. “I’d never ask you to go to war, Heeseung.” To get your point across, hoping he could see the mirrored devotion in your eyes, you pulled at his hair so he’d look at you properly. “You’re not going.”

“I would, though,” he responded. He traced different shapes into your skin before kissing you again. “For your laugh? I’d go.”

Before you could reply, before you could forbid him, he shifted downwards and pressed his nose against your cunt, holding down your hips as your legs twitched. You cried out and pulled at his hair but he was adamant, ignoring the pain and pushed your legs further apart.

You squirmed under him as he stared at your cunt before blowing warm air on it, finding your agony humorous. Even now, you could have said that you couldn’t take any more, but he knows you’d be lying.

He spread your legs even further before he kissed your pussy softly. “Such a pretty pussy, Your Highness,” he praises, a twinge of mockery in his voice. He meant it, he loved it so dearly, almost as much as he loved you, but there was something unforbidding in his words.

Here he was, treating the next in line for the throne as his own personal servant, using her until she begs to stop.

Heeseung smiled against you, knowing you’d never ask to stop, even if you needed to. Nothing he could do would warrant such a reaction.

“Hee,” you whispered.

“I know, baby,” he nodded, his nose brushing against your slick folds. “Such a good little thing you are,” he mumbled, the vibrations going straight to your core. “Letting me have my way.”

“Please,” you begged. “Please.”

Instead of giving you what you wanted, he brushed two of his fingers through your pussy, holding your hips down with one arm as he coats both fingers in a mixture of both of your releases. Once he’s pleased enough, Heeseung lifts his fingers to your mouth and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Suck.”

Like a man starved, you latched onto his fingers. He watched with dark eyes as you sucked on his fingers, twirling your tongue around them, cleaning them completely. Just as you’re about to pull his fingers out, he presses down on your tongue, making you gag. The taste of yourself mixed with him has you rutting against his nose.

At that exact moment, he licked a harsh stripe of your core, holding you down as you writhe under him, still gagging on his fingers.

He presses his face closer to your cunt as his tongue pushes in and out of your sopping hole, licking and sucking as if you’re his last meal. You might as well be, knowing what could happen if you’re discovered. That thought urges him to drag his tongue along your pussy, fucking it into your cunt before sucking on your clit.

Tears are gathering in your eyes as Heeseungs fingers remain in your mouth, you’re sucking and licking but he’s still pushing down on your tongue, drool tipping over the edge of your lips.

He traces his name, his devotion, into your gummy walls, his nose pressing against your clit. You moan out a broken, gagged version of his name and arched your back as his nose digs further into your clit, rubbing it until he’s sure you’re all he’ll smell for weeks.

And he will. He won’t clean himself as well, hoping the scent of his sweat and your juices mixes into his skin and it becomes his new scent. It’ll waft through the air of the castle, enticing all, but only he would know the truth.

Heeseung pressed his face even closer to your cunt as his tongue licked and suckled, lapping up all your juices. The taste of himself mixed in with yours has his eyes rolling back, knowing he’d never taste anything that would compare.

The sounds of slurping and his lips smacking around your clit made your legs shake as you tried pulling his fingers out of your mouth, if only to get another taste of your mixtures. He tilted his even further, pushing his tongue deeper within you and you moaned.

He curled the tip of his tongue upwards and you almost screamed, tears falling down your cheeks at the pleasure. “Yes, yes,” you chanted, words muffled by his fingers.

Lifting his eyes, Heeseung hummed at the sight of your pleasure, the way tears prettily fell down your cheeks, and lifted his fingers from your tongue. Before he could bring his hand back towards him, you grabbed it and settled it on your chest. His wet, dripping fingers pinched your nipples, teasing the sensitive skin.

Needing more, you began moving your hips feverishly against his face, grinding down on him. Heeseung groaned into your cunt, making your insides vibrate, as you smeared all your slick over his face, his chin dripping with drool and arousal.

Your sweet scent and taste overwhelmed his mind and he began losing it, rutting against the mattress like a schoolboy, his lips latching onto your clit as he pushed himself closer to your dripping cunt, nose rubbing deliciously against your bud as he slid his tongue in and out of you.

“Seung,” you cry, eyes barely open as you watch him suck you dry. His hand shifts from your chest to the one in his hair. He threads your fingers together and squeezes once, twice, before your legs are pulsing erratically and your walls clench around his tongue. “I’m close, baby, please.”

Heeseung’s brain short-circuited at your words, at the term, and he spread you open wider and licked at you harsher, his tongue inching towards your anus, licking long strips as he teases your clit with his nose.

“Cum, pretty thing,” he edged, lulling you closer to your orgasm.

“Cum all over my face, Princess.”

His words were enough to break you and your vision blurred as you moaned, your stomach coiling and uncoiling as your orgasm washed over you like cold water, soaking you completely.

Throwing your head back, Heeseung continued to push his tongue into your gushing pussy, lips coaxing all your juices down his throat, not wasting a single drop. He licked and sucked harshly, even as you mumbled incoherently about it being too much.

He knew it was too much, it was taking all his power to hold you down, but he needed this more than he needed life. More than he needed anything else, more than even the King could offer him. He needed every last drop you had to offer in his mouth, he needed to imprint the taste to memory, the velvety of your juices healed him, he could feel it, the way his heart had mended and his scars had healed and he was perfect and worthy of you.

His tongue continued to lap up everything that dripped out of you, including his own drool, as you breathed harshly, chest heaving up and down as you tried to pry yourself from his hold. You didn’t really want to break free, you just wanted his mouth on yours so you could taste a bit of yourself again.

Once he was sure he had sucked you completely dry, cleaning your inner thighs with his tongue, leaving nothing but warmth in his wake, he pressed a soft kiss to your clit. You watched him with half lidded eyes as your body twitched with sensitivity.

“So good,” he whispered against your skin. “Such a good girl, cumming for me again.”

He looked up at you and your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight of him; eyes wide and hair wild as your cum and slick coated his face, his sun-kissed skin glowing with sweat as he smiled at you with swollen lips.

He looked so pleased, so completely, irrevocably and ardently in love with you.

He kissed up your thighs and you threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged. He let you drag him up, let you bring his face to yours and he grinned at the fucked out look on your face, the way your pupils had been blown wide, lips swollen, tears staining your cheeks.

Pulling him down, you looked up at him, his warm gaze meeting yours and you could have sworn you saw a shooting star in his eyes, or, perhaps, it was one outside. Regardless, you knew your wish. You tilted your head up and kissed him, pressing your lips flush against his, licking his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

You groaned into your mouth as the taste of him and yourself flooded your mouth. Shifting his body weight, he cupped your cheeks and deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love and all of the unspoken promises he’d keep for you.

You nipped at his lips and his legs wobbled. Resting an arm on either side of you, he held himself up as you kissed him sloppily, teeth against teeth, before you nipped at his top lip, pulling until he whined.

Pulling away, you smiled as you kissed down his throat, needing him. You licked and sucked, nibbling down his throat. With shaky arms, Heeseung tried his best to stay upright, tried his best not to crush your body.

When you kissed his adam’s apple, his hold trembled. When you licked a long stripe of his neck, sucking his adam’s apple until it was red, he collapsed on top of you, his cock leaking against your stomach once more.

You welcomed the weight of his body. He felt so warm; so real, so attainable, you could feel the weight of his muscles against yours, the weight crushed the lingering loneliness that had crept into your bones.

Wrapping your arms around his body, you scratched his back and pulled at his hair as you littered his throat and jaw with kisses. He held onto you just as tightly, afraid that if he let go, he’d be back in that barn all those years ago and you’d be in your tower, and he’d never get to hold you like this.

You both breathed deeply until your breathing synched and everything was alright in the world, you decided. Nothing else really mattered, not to you. Heeseung was here, in your arms, pressed warmly against you and that meant everything would be alright.

You kissed his earlobe, pulling at it with your teeth, reveling in the small moan that vibrated against your chest. It cleared your mind a bit, opened your eyes. Your nails began to dig deeper into his skin, leaving marks.

“Had your fun?” You questioned him quietly, your words nothing but a mere whisper.

Unbeknownst to Heeseung, your lips twitched upwards when his whole body froze. You felt the way his breathing paused, the way his length twitched against your stomach. He could hear it in your voice, in the way you had sucked all the warmth out of the room.

Slowly, as if he was beguiling a predator, Heeseung slowly lifted himself off you, legs still intertwined. His chest peeled off yours and he kept some space between your face. You looked up at him and he glanced down at you, a gentle plea in his eyes.

Cupping his cheek, you rubbed your thumb across his cheek. “Well? Did you?”

There it was, he shivered. Gone was your breathy, submissive voice. The one you loved to use and the one he found so much pleasure in. But this, the slightly deeper, authoritative voice, the one that bounced off the palace walls and negotiated with Princes, this voice could ask for his life and he’d give it. If it asked for his heart, he’d rip it out of his own chest and hand it over.

Hesitantly, Heeseung nodded. “Yes, Princess. I did.” He swallowed and tried for a smile, trying to show how much he didn’t enjoy this, the sudden switch of power, hoping to conceal the way his cock was leaking onto your stomach.

“So polite,” you teased. You trailed your hands up and down his chest, brushing your fingers against his nipples, a knowing look in your eyes when he flinched.

“Your Highness,” Heeseung begins, ready to beg, but you press down on his bottom lip and he loses his footing. Tangling your leg with his, you push him to the side as you flip over, sitting in between his legs as he stares at you with wide eyes.

You smile at him, the laughter in your eyes not matching the way you grab his length and shuffle forward, incredibly close to him. His breathing hitches and you brush your thumb against his tip, bringing it to your mouth, staring directly at him as you suck it clean.

“You’re so good at it, Heeseung.” Your voice is soft, genuine. One of your hands rests on his inner thigh, too heavy on his skin. ��So good at taking care of me. At giving me what I want.”

Heeseung swallows, eyes starry and abs flexed at your movements. “Anything for you, Princess. You know that.” He was pleading. Have mercy on me, he was yelling. I’m not as strong as you, he wanted to cry out.

“I do,” you agree. “Tell me,” you leaned down, “do you enjoy having me at your mercy? Is it arousing? Being my master? Being the only one to control me?”

Your voice was too casual, too sultry, he couldn’t handle it. He wanted to cry but his hard on twitched in your hand and you grinned down at him. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” he breathed out. “I do. It’s liberating and I love it.” You, he almost said. I love you.

Your eyes darkened and you nodded, licking your bottom lip. “Me too.” You have me, she could have said. I love you.

“Will you let me take care of you, Hee?” You squeezed the base of his cock and he arched his back, gasping at the feeling. He was so incredibly sensitive, ready to blow at any recond.

He nodded before he spoke. “Yes, yes, Princess,” he mumbled, “Anything you want. I’m yours to use.” His eyes beseech you and you can’t help but loosen your hold on him.

“Mine?” It’s a question you ask every time, every time you find yourself in his bed, in this room, you ask him without fail, and everytime, his answer is the same, genuine and honest.

“Yes. Always.”

A small, soft smile twists onto your lips and Heeseung exhales a sigh of relief. You tilt your head at him and he matches your gaze, staring at you with nothing but adoration. You lean forward and he pushes himself up, meeting your lips halfway.

The kiss is soft, despite the fire behind your eyes. He’s soft as he kisses you, letting you control the pace. Your hand is still sliding up and down his cock, using his precum as lube, getting it ready for you.

You pull back and to remind him that you’re as devoted, you press a soft kiss to his cheek and he falls back with a smile on his face.

You move your hand a few times, enjoying the way his whole body twitches, how hard he tries to keep still for you, before you turn around and you miss the way Heeseung’s head falls back, knowing what’s coming.

Shifting back, you use one hand to line him up with your entrance and your other hand is on his thigh, holding you up. “Beg,” you whisper.

“Please,” his voice immediately breaks out. “Please, Princess. Use me, fuck me.”

His words shoot straight to your core and you drip all over his cock, glad you had turned away, knowing you would have trembled if you had the chance to look into his big, shiny eyes.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock, hissing at the familiar stretch. It's different than before, burns less than before, but it’s still too much, still enough to knock your head back as he bottoms out, filling you up to the brim.

“Fuck,” he mumbles behind you, eyes twisted shut. His arms are behind him, gripping the headboard because he knows, knows you’ll tell him when he can touch you. Right now, you were in control. You needed your royal blood to pump through your veins, regain control over your composure.

“Oh, God,” you moaned out, grinding down on his cock. Your pussy was greedy, sucking him in as if wasn’t filled to the brim only a while ago. Steadily, you pushed yourself up, biting back a groan when his veins brushed against your walls.

Heeseung willed his eyes open, needing to burn the memory of you fucking yourself on his cock, your ass slaming into his pelvis as you used him like he was nothing but a slave, into his brain. He wished he was artistic so he could paint this picture a thousand times and keep them all for himself.

Instead, he writhed and gasped under you, wishing he could see your face. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers along your skin and kiss your lips but he had to behave, had to listen, had to just take it, because you asked him to.

Heeseung watched as your movements began to slow, as your shoulders trembled and your toes flexed every time you had to lift yourself. Biting his bottom lip, his eyes glinted with something primal, something possessive as he waited, and waited, and waited, and then, he heard your choked sob.

“Heeseung,” you cried, drained of all your energy.

At once, like it was practiced, like he was made for it, Heeseung gripped onto your hips and pulled you backwards, flush against his back as he began to slowly rock his hips forward, fucking his cock into you.

Back arched, you moaned when his hand travelled to your throat and he held you firmly against him, tilting your head backwards as he applied just the right amount of pressure to your jugular veins, making you lightheaded as he slid in and out of you at a bruising pace.

He smiled when you whimpered, teeth grazing the side of your throat as he bit down, pressing your ass flushed against his pelvis, the tip of cock brushing against your cervix, making you see stars.

“T–‘S too much,” you babbled, tears lining your waterline as you tried to breathe.

“When will you learn?” Heeseung whispers into your ear, fucking you fiercely. You don’t recognize the sound of his voice, a mixture of his sweet, advising tone mixed with something more predatory, something that has you seeing stars. “Princess to all, but a whore for me,” he breathed out.

You almost couldn’t understand what he was saying, not with the way his thrusts grew blinding. His other hand slid down your body until it slapped your cunt, making you cry out further, arching your back, trying to get away, but his grip on your throat was strong and he kissed your neck softly.

“I got you, Y/n. I’m the only one who ever has,” his tongue licks away your tears, “who ever will.”

He rubs your clit, pushing down randomly and changing his speed as he continues to fuck you, aware of the way your body had given up to him completely, the way you could only mumble his name.

He felt the way you squeezed his cock, making it almost impossible for him to slide down, the way your legs trembled, and he bit your earlobe.

“Cum.”

You moaned as you squirted and came all over his cock, your walls clenching around his walls hard enough to pull his own orgasm, moaning loudly as he cummed inside you, hand still rubbing your clit.

You continued to cum and he emptied himself inside you, the squelching sound becoming louder and louder as your juices mixed and he fucked into you with the same crazed pace.

You babbled a string of words he couldn’t decipher and continued to pump into you, lost in your cunt, unable to stop. You were crying, overstimulated and emotional, and ready to fall back against him.

When he was sure he had emptied himself completely inside you, he slowed his pace and pressed kisses all over your neck and shoulder, slowly halting the movement of his hips. You fell into a slump against his body and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, mumbling quietly to you.

“Baby,” he whispered after a pregnant moment. “Princess.”

You hummed, eyes too tired and droopy to open. He rubbed your stomach soothingly, trying to ground you before he moved. “Are you okay, beloved? Did I hurt you?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, unable to turn to face him. “No.”

“Okay,” he responded. He stayed in that position for a while more, waiting until your breathing had evened out and your body had begun to respond to his light touches. Once he was sure that you were okay, not as stimulated, he tapped your arm three times.

“I have to pull out, my Princess. Can I?” His voice was sweet again, honey and silk against your skin.

You opened your eyes and nodded against his chest. “Yes, pull out.”

Gently, Heeseung pulled out of your sopping cunt, biting back a hiss. He shifted his weight and maneuvered your body until you were laying in his arms, your back pressed against his chest. He knew he had much to clean up, but your eyes still fluttered shut occasionally so he put it off, knowing you needed him more.

He ran his hands along your arms and then your shoulders, pressing into your skin occasionally to remind you that he was right behind you. You snuggled into him, back pressed flush against his chest and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he asked, quietly. “Tell me three things you can see.”

Licking your lips, you opened your eyes and rested your own arms over his. “I’m okay, Heeseung. I promise.” You lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I see… your hand, the candle I made you, and your bookshelf.”

Heeseung released a breath of relief and kissed your shoulder.

“Come, lovely, let me run you a bath.”

“Later,” you said. “Later.” Before he could protest, you slowly shifted in his arms until you were face-to-face, chests pressed together, hearts beating as one.

“Just hold me, please?”

Tilting his head down, Heesueng brushed his nose against yours and kissed your lips softly.

“Always and forever, Princess.”

922 notes · View notes

whereisloe · 5 months ago

Text

Tough

“Like a .38 made out of brass” ꗥ arthur morgan x fem reader

a lil dutch x reader action cuz i’m just that girl - warnings n/a

𓆝. 𓆟

“You have my condolences for your father. He was a very valuable man” You watched Angelo Bronte carefully from your black fan that covered half of your veiled face. You had to really sell this mourning look if you wanted to fool such a powerful man so, that you did. Getting all dressed up in your black attire everything matching from the black, layered ruffles of your petticoat to the lacy parcel carried by your escort. “Because of his loyalty, I will extend my offer of protection onto you so as long as we still do business together, hm?” He took a sip of his glass before leaning back onto his loveseat with his legs crossed.

“I thank you, truly, Mr. Bronte. But, the extra protection won’t be necessary. We’ve got our own guns for hire on our land” You maintained a harsh stare onto the man across from you as he savored another sip from his wine glass. He laughed amused with your simple answer before tipping his glass to you. “Ha, your father says the same thing. Like daughter, like father then”

“Mr. Bronte, I am no fool to business. With all due respect, I did not come here to reminisce nor, have you invited me here to, no?” Bronte gazed up at you from across the table. Eyes narrowed and unreadable as though he couldn’t figure what to think of you. “You are a very…smart girl” You felt your mouth twitch as he continued his speech. You couldn’t stand the man’s voice, how degrading his words were as you feigned oblivion to obvious exploitations that were about to leave his mouth. “Your father received 10% of all government related endeavors. Whether it was busting criminals or busting vaults, didn’t matter to me just so long as I got 20% of his business.” He paused as he licked at his lips. “Your father did not remain in good standing with me for the money. Instead, he wanted security. Security, that nothing would happen to him or his precious daughter while he worked with me, and security I provided” This man reeked on lies, your father had been shot doing a job for this man but only after he demanded a raise in his cut.

“I can assure you I am not my father. I am here for money, security is something I may provide myself” You gestured over at the guns you hired not too long ago before this meeting. “Daddy was never too smart when it came to funds. Thinkin’ our oil plant would be enough with no back up money to lean on” You lightly began to fan your face as you felt yourself get worked up. “Then we was robbed, Daddy may have turned a blind eye to it but, I ain’t one to show weakness”

“I take it you want my help with this” He gestured to the air before pulling a cigar from a tray. “this show of strength” You nodded and carried on with your story.

“Those boys you’re in good spirit with robbed us good and as a long devotee to your cause, Mr. Bronte, I don’t take too kindly to it”

“My dear, as much as I appreciate your kindest regards, you must understand this business. If I was worried about my clients opinions of one another I’d be the poorest man in Saint Denis. The most I can do is keep them out of your business but, they’re fickle men…not to be trusted” He blew the the smoke of his cigar off to the side as your foot tapped rapidly. You were ready to lay your cards out, prove a point that your father raised woman fairly gifted in her trade. “I completely understand, I just request that I may also be in kahoots with these outlaws”

“Why? So you can get them arrested?”

“Precisely, Mr. Bronte. Of course, on your word. But, if I get in good standin’ with the law they’ll send some men over to the plant. That way we produced more, with less risk” Your foot halted its tapping pausing as the man in front of you thought carefully of your words. On paper, the plan was foolproof and a win-win. “So, whaduya think?” You attempted to expedite the man’s response but was only met with another deafening silence.

“I think I’ve been doing business with the wrong (l/n)” Angelo stood from the loveseat before offering you a hand to follow. You smiled, accomplished with the reaction you received before resting your freehand in his. “I must ask one favor of you, though” You nodded before lifting yourself from the seat. “I need you to host one of my official parties. To test if these men can be trusted, I’ll give subtle hints about your booming business.”

“Are ya fixin’ these men to rob me?”

“I’m fixing you an opportunity to meet these men…” He took your silence as compliance before continuing on. “The plan is, you catch these rats red handed and negotiate, later you tell me if they’re treacherous. If not then I’ll set up a meeting for you and the boss.” He scoffed at word as though he was amused by the thought of it. “And do not worry, I’ll have men everywhere for this event”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Bronte” You both shook on it before he walked you up to the front gate. The sun beamed down on you the second your foot met with the cobbled path of the front patio. Your escort was quick to your side with your parasol before you could even muster the words to complain. “The details will be delivered shortly, a presto, miss”

Today was the day.

You could finally put the face to the name that robbed you. Van der Linde Gang. You sighed at the name, as you fixed the headdress adorning your maintained curls. You still kept your attire relatively dark as your father’s death was still fresh in the press. All you had to do was briefly preside over the party from your balcony, allowing Bronte enough time to present you to his friends new and old. Maybe you’d commute down to your gardens to briefly acquaint yourself with your guests.

“Are you ready, Miss” Your maid questioned from your balcony doors. You adjusted yourself one last time before standing from your seat. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose” You promenaded your way towards the doors as your maid rushed behind you as to raise the dragging silks of your skirt just enough to hover the dirty concrete of the balcony but not enough to reveal your petticoat or bustle. You stood straight presiding over all your guests that took it upon themselves to socialize. None of these men meant anything to you except two.

You noticed Bronte with two men, who cleaned up well considering their circumstance, as they prattled on about god knows what. That was until one of seemed to motion up to you.

Nice shaven beard, tall and broad, with a subtle slick to his hair. None of these men would be able to tell but, you’d been admiring the man from afar staring down at him with shameless eyes. “Miss, your stares could be noticed as rude” Your maid whispered to you having you straighten yourself out before giving the man one last glance. Now, the other one had looked up at you but only briefly. He wasn’t too bad himself.

Perhaps, you wouldn’t mind going downstairs and acquainting yourself.

“My goodness” You spoke breathlessly to your maid. “Aren’t they some neat lookin’ fellas?” She hid her smile as she giggled at your unserious behavior.

“They are quite the sight—”

“Ohh, I bet you were lookin’ at the boss, Mr. Van der linde, hisself, huh?” You waved for the older lady to follow you inside as you teased her with your antics. “Well” She began while she laid the train of your dress neatly against the wooden boards fixing the bunched up silks that rested on your bust, “I won’t deny such a thing” the maid smiled softly as you laughed, briefly allowing yourself to calm down.

“Shall we get acquainted with them?” You turned to your maid, fixing her cascading curls as you waltzed past her. “C’mon, this is excitin” By the time you and your maid made it down stairs you could practically feel your heart beating out your chest. You hadn’t the slightlest clue why you were so nervous like some young faced girl talking to a boy for the first time. “Goodness, I’m nervous” You turned to your maid with a hand resting on your cheek.

“It’ll alright, miss. Just remember, you’re here for business negotiations not suitors” She chimed amused with your rather inappropriate reaction. You laughed to yourself as her words hit you. “I’m actin’ ridiculous…alright, cmon”

“Ah, There she is, the woman of the hour” Bronte was quick to call as you approached the men now facing you. You felt your nerves burning you up inside as you grabbed Bronte’s forearm and greeted him with il bacetto, an Italian courtesy you’d learn amongst the time you’ve spent with Bronte. Once you pulled back your attention was instantly on this so called boss standing off to the right of Bronte.

“Missus (l/n)” The man held out his hand as his eyes never left yours. You smiled, masking the slight in embarrassment you felt as you corrected him. “Miss, is just fine.” You placed your hand in his allowing him to kiss your knuckles. Amongst all the intense eye contact, you would think with how you felt moments ago, you’d be a flustered mess just right about now. But, your gut was telling you something serious was up about this man. You’ve been played a fool by many before, and you’ve caught almost just as many amidst their schemes. That glint in his eye, even the courteous gesture was a warning. This man was plotting and it all began with buttering you up.

Subtly, you recalled your hand before carrying on conversation. “I take it, you’re the one that runs things. Mr. Van der Linde, if I’m not mistaken”

“You wouldn’t be, miss. And here my…consort, Mr. Morgan” You noticed the slight pause in his speech before motioning over to the other man. Your head was quick to turn as you stared over at him. Eyes widening as you noticed his attractive features now closely. You smiled and nodded as a greeting to the man. “Ma’am” He returned your gesture with his slight acknowledgment. Couldn’t really hear it in the boss’s voice but, with Mr. Morgan’s you’d instantly picked up on the western candence.

“You don’t sound local, Mr. Morgan. You all from the west, I take it?”

“We’re from all over, Ma’am” He was short with you and rather mysterious, more than likely to hide his western drawl. But, they’ve got something greater to hide, you could feel it. “Mr. Bronte, may I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything, dear” He took a huff of his cigar before you suspiciously looked around for any ‘peering eyes’. “I’ve got the money but, there’s been talk of some group of boys runnin’ around robbing folk—You boys wouldn’t know anything of them, no?”

“No, we certainly do not. Saint Denis is new to us as well as its crime” Van der Linde was quick to respond. You nodded and grabbed his hand with a feigned concern and furrowed brows. “You all stay careful out there. They’re robbin’ houses and coaches from what I’ve heard. I could lend you both a couple of escorts, tonight as well”

“We appreciate the concern but, we’ve got ourselves handled” He reassured with a palm covering your hand.

“Alright, alright” You turned your attention back to Bronte. “The money’s in Daddy’s old office, I a-ain’t know what to do with it—”

“Calm down, the money will be fine. Go on, enjoy yourself.” Bronte played along with your little performance you put on. “What should I do with it? I ain’t never ran a business before.” Bronte tutted his tongue before leading you further into the gardens where all the officials rendezvoused.

“We’ll be back, boys. Help yourselves to some drinks while you’re here” Bronte spoke back to the men as the both of you, alongside your maid, disappeared in the crowd.

“Go find out where that money’s at, Arthur” Dutch wasted no time before turning to Arthur and bringing his voice down to a whisper. Arthur looked over toward him with a practical disbelief.

“Jesus, you ain’t serious? The girl’s daddy just died, now we’re robbing her of her own inheritance”

“Her daddy just died. Meaning that other people are gonna to rob her and, I’m not too sure about you but, I’d rather it be us that gets that money” His voice stained against the low volume he attempted to maintain before lighting a cigar. “I need you to trust me, Morgan, now…” Dutch backed away before tipping his hat to the man. Arthur sighed and made his way inside where the more quiet and intimate conversations took place.

By the time, Mr. Morgan had snuck his way upstairs you’d already been sitting in your father’s office chair shotgun light in your grasp. You had snuck your way around toward the back entrance of your estate which led straight up into the room. You double check the chamber making sure that you were sure to shoot if needed. Growing anxious with nothing but the drowned out voices from outside to distract you, you placed a cigarette to your lips before striking a lonesome match against the underside of your heel.

You’d get through half your cigarette before the soften floorboards creaked from the other side of the door. Quickly, you smothered the stick with the ashes of previous cigarettes your father burned through.

The door crept open and you were slowly met with the deadly end of a revolver and soon after an arm. “I’d put that down if I were you, Mr. Morgan” You stared down the barrel of your shot gun as the man slowly crept from behind the door. “Nobody has to get shot, I’m here to negotiate. Come sit with me, Mr. Morgan”

“Arthur.” He said curtly, clearly fed up with this whole event. He slowly holstered his weapon before seating himself in the chair sat on the opposite side of your desk.

“Arthur Morgan” You let his name slip your lips as you tested it. “You’re quite notorious, you know that?” You spoke clearly and watched him with your gun pointed toward him as you figured him out. “I’ve got family, down in Blackwater, sir. Say, they know all about you.”

“Do they now?” You nodded, slowly as your heel tapped against the wood. “What exactly are ya lookin’ to negotiate, Miss”

“I want to hire your gang as some guns and in turn I’ll keep this and your relation to the Blackwater massacre secret. And, if things play out as I’ve planned, I could probably get those Pinkertons off ya, for a moment anyway” You leaned back into the leather chair before setting your gun off to the side. “I’m tired of listenin’ to these men talk, empty promises followed by another all they is. Leviticus Cornwall for one, Angelo Bronte for another”

“Don’t you have your own men to escort you, why us?” Arthur questioned before leaning back as well, in his wooden seat legs spread and arms crossed. “I ain’t hirin’ y’all on a babysitting job. I need money, gold. I’d be sending y’all on robberies, I need experienced men not no, rich cat on a high horse” You licked your lips before getting desperate. “I’m tryna to buy off an oil plant from Cornwall but, I can’t do that without Bronte keeping the police distracted off of my daddy’s debts. With my daddy dead and me being a woman, my percentages have taken a hit. I can’t pay ‘em both”

“You sure are in a situation—”

“So are you. You need Bronte to trust you and the Pinkertons to fuck off. You need me.” You both stared at one another for a moment before letting your eyes soften. Even though, you’d been mid negotiation, you couldn’t help admiring his blue eyes, warmly lit from the lantern in front of you. God, what you would do just to be able to hold his face in your palms as your thumb rubbed the rosy blemishes of his cheeks.

“You ain’t wrong.”

“I know I ain’t. Now, would you escort me down to your boss, Mr. Arthur Morgan” You spoke sweetly before making your way over to his side and grabbing his arm. You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second of holding this man. With your one hand wrapped around his elbow and the other gently gripping his bicep, you followed his lead as you both left the room. “You know, you had me fooled back there…playing all helpless” You looked up at the man with a curious gaze mostly because you hadn’t heard the first half of what he was saying to you. “That was a set up, right? There ain’t no money.” You shook your head and smiled up at the bachelor to keep up a friendly appearance as you passed up some guests of yours.

“Bronte wanted to see if y’all were worth trustin’. ‘S nice to know if you lot like robbin’ helpless women” You winked before laughing at the matter only to get a rather dry chuckle from Arthur in return. “It’s alright, I won’t tell a soul, I promise” You placed a reassuring hand to his chest before letting it fall once you both reached the garden. “You know, you’re a handsome fellow, Mr. Morgan. Are you married? I can’t imagine that bein’ easy being in a gang and all.” You started up some small talk as the two of you walked around in search of Dutch.

“I ain’t married, no”

“What about your boss?” You urged.

“Well, he ain’t neither. Got a woman, though…back at camp” They had a woman traveling with them? You held back questioning about her before carrying on. “I take it you don’t, then? No women waitin’ on ya at home?”

“Not in that sense, no” Arthur said plainly as he maneuvered the two of you through the crowd carefully accommodating for you. “Y’all got more women traveling with you boys?” Your eyes brighten with the assumption you made. He nodded and watched as your face lit up. “You should bring ‘em over if this conversation with Mr. Van der Linde goes over well” You spoke outwardly not even thinking about what context the two of you were in currently. “You’re quite odd, Miss” Arthur chuckled before waving Dutch over with his freehand.

“Arthur. Miss (l/n).” Dutch greeted the both of you before visibly growing curious of the atmosphere. Your smiled faded as you grew more serious with the other male.

“Mr. Van der Linde, how would you feel about bein’ business partners?”

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch x reader #dutch x reader (teased #not really though)#arthur morgan x you #rdr2 dutch #dutch van der linde x you #rdr2 angst

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Secret

Media The Artful Dodger (Pre Show Release)

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Cute

Warnings - Sexual Trauma / Rape/ 1800's Abortion

I was beyond fearful.

A thousand thoughts flew through my mind.

I worried about what my fate would be.

What would happen to me?

What little I could even do?

All with the knowledge, that this was a ticking time bomb. And the longer I lingered, the less time I would have.

This secret would not stay a secret forever, and every moment I waited jeopardised the potential of my secret being revealed. And if it were, there would be problems, to say the least.

So I had no alternative, I had to do something about it.

I dressed for the day in my boots, hosiery, bloomers, petticoats, frock, jacket, hat and parasol and headed down the stairwell to the front door.

"Where do you think you're off to?" My father spoke up as he arrived from his study, a glass of whiskey in hand.

His brother, my uncle beside him with his own and a cigar between his lips.

"Just off to the market," I lied as I tried to stare at the door and not glimpse at them both.

"I'll Accompany you," My uncle proposed with a smirk.

"No." I snapped, "No thank you, I think I would like the walk alone,"

"Alright, Be back before dark." My father demanded before he headed back to his study, I grabbed my gloves from beside the door and slipped them on in a rush to get out when my uncle came close, he rested his brown oxford shoe between my legs, pressed himself tightly to my body and came so close I could smell his whiskey, his cigar and the horrid scent of sour apples.

"Don't be late darling," He whispered in my ear

I didn't answer him so he just skulked off back to the study with my father, I squandered no time and scurried from the house I made sure to be seen at the market but I didn't make a single purchase I just wilted around and spoke to a few to make sure I would have been seen if anyone asked about me.

Once that was done, I made my way to the familiar house often frequented by those like me in circumstances with little hope, often as a last resort. The house was stunning; it couldn't be disavowed, the house itself was small, only really existing on the upper floors, with the bottom the office, storerooms, prep spaces and all other things required for the profession of he who lived in the house.

I made sure to journey there discreetly not wanting my presence to be witnessed as I rang the bell and lingered, each second felt like hours until ultimately the door was yanked open.

There he stood in black shoes sludgy from their wear, a pair of black trousers well pressed and fitted to his thin body, a faint thin white shirt with his sleeves wadded up to his elbows, a green fabric tie loosely knotted around his neck, a pair of cream and black suspenders over his shoulders, a blue well-worn waistcoat, his hair in its typical fluffy way mostly thrown to one side, His brown eyes looked wide as he opened the door unsure who to be expecting behind it but his lip upturned into a small smile.

"Ohh, Hello Miss Y/l/n this is a nice surprise," He smiled.

"Hello Doctor, Could I come in?"

"Yes of course" he smiled happily let me in and closed the door behind me "To what do I owe the pleasure then?" he asked.

"May we speak... privately?"

"Ohh course, come into the office nice and private in there," he ushered me through to his small office just off the operating room and down from a small store room. He got a cushy chair for me and moved it by the fire with another "There we are, Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No thank you, Doctor," I answered as I took a seat nervously and uncontrollably picked at my nail beds,

"Just Jack you've known me long enough," he chuckled, as he took his chair across from me "Are you alright?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're picking at your cuticles, you haven't made eye contact with me since I opened the door and you look... like you're about to either smack me or start crying." He said, "So? What's going on?"

"Well" I began, as I battled back my tears. "I'm sorry this isn't easy..."

"What's wrong y/n?" He asked, as he tilted forward to gently take my hand in his own.

"I had to come to visit you today, I wish it was under more pleasing circumstances," I explained, tears uncontrollably flooding down my face. "I'm so sorry Jack but I must ask you to keep a secret,"

"Of course,"

"No, I mean it. I'm serious. This must be a secret," I explained.

"Y/n, I promise no matter what you tell me it's a secret, just between us," he said, as he lifted from his chair and fetched me some tissues from his desk before he returned to his seat.

"You promise?"

"I promise. Not a Word of it will pass my lips, not a sound of it will leave this room, I swear I won't tell a soul,"

"I need your help, Jack."

"With what?"

"... I know you, haven't always walked on the Side of lawfulness,"

"hey!" He pouted "My thievery has been very occasional," he corrects playfully.

"I hate to ask, I know it would be a risk for you to do such a thing for me,"

"Well... what is it?"

"I- I'm sorry." I began as I choked up with tears again.

"It's alright, whatever assistance you need I'll be here for you. you just have to tell me what it is,"

My blood ran cold, my words stunted but I knew the time was ticking and I couldn't let these words linger behind my teeth.

"Jack, I'm pregnant."

He froze up, his hand on mine went clammy, and the colour drained from his face for a moment. He moved back to press himself into his chair, he ran a hand through his hair and down his face rubbing on his jaw before he spoke.

"...Okay." He nodded, as he brought his hands together and broke the silence that lingered between us and the fire. "Why would you need my help if you're pregnant?" He asked.

"Why else?" I told him.

"It's not my area of expertise. You should see the midwife-",

"No!" I snapped, "She's a chatterbox you know that. That girl couldn't keep a secret If I stitched her mouth shut,"

"Good point," he chuckled.

"Even so, she wouldn't endorse what I'm doing,"

"Understandable,"

"I don't trust anyone sufficiently with this. Anyone but you Jack,"

"Thanks, I guess," He smiled, "What do you intend to do?"

"I don't have a choice. no one can know, my father will find out and he'll send me away, if not worse. He'll call me a whore and ship me off or worse," I explained, "If anyone in town found out they'd lock me away," I explained "Jack... I can't be pregnant. I need to not be pregnant."

"Okay," he nodded, "This is illegal you know that right?"

"I do. But I don't have a choice."

"if anyone ever found out, we'd both be in a lot of trouble."

"I know," I nodded. "I understand if you can't Jack. I understand if you can't stake your-",

"I'll do it."

"You will?"

"If it's what you want." He nods.

"You don't have to do this for me."

"I want to." he reassured, "I can't endure to see you like this, Can I ask something?"

"Alright,"

"Who's the father?"

That question froze me to my core. "Why do you ask?"

"Don't you think you should tell him?"

"No. No, I can't."

"Does he know you're pregnant?"

"No."

"Do you think it's possible... Just hear me out! maybe if you told him? you think he'd marry you?"

"He might. but I don't want that."

"Why not? you liked him enough to let him-" He began, but all I could do was look at him. "You did let him, didn't you?" he asked and I shook my head as I fought back my tears, he ran his hand over his face "I'm sorry I shouldn't-",

"It's okay," I nodded.

"Come here y/n," He offered.

I got up from the chair and stepped over to his own, he happily took my hand removed my gloves gave my skin a soft kiss and tugged me gently into his lap so I could sit over him my head against his chest as he ran his fingers gently across my frock, his other hand ran his fingers over me removed my hat and gently ran through my hair, every so often he kissed the top of my head.

"I'm so sorry y/n." He whispered, "You don't need to worry, I promise not a soul will know, we'll sort this out as soon as possible," he explained.

"Thank you, Jack."

"It's okay" he cooed, "How long has this been happening?"

"A while now,"

"Okay," he nodded. "Before you go through with this, will you listen to what I have to say?"

"Of course Jack,"

"I know it must all seem frightening now, and like you need to hurry knowing every day this is developing inside you, and I'm sure it must hurt you to even think about this child given its conception and the peril it now poses to you," he explained, "But... we would have to keep this secret until the end of our days, not a soul could ever know if anyone did find out we'd be fortunate to be locked up. Even so, this... procedure isn't straightforward, it carries a grave risk not only of failure, of pain, but of threat to you. If something goes awry, it could kill you," he explained.

"I know that."

"You can't expect me to be alright with conceivably killing you,"

"Isn't that the risk every one of your patients accepts when they decide to lay on the operating table?"

"Well yes but-",

"But what Jack?"

"But... that's not a fate I want for you." he said, "Is there... anyway I can talk you out of this?"

"No,"

"There's no way that deep down he might be an agreeable gentleman?"

"Unquestionably not,"

"Okay, is there any way you could go someplace?"

"I can't,"

"Any suitor boys you could sharply marry before you show?"

"None to mention no,"

"Is there any chance you're going to regret this? And want to keep your baby? Because once I do this that's it. Babies gone forever."

"I'm certain Jack."

"What if..." he began "I married you?"

My heart stopped beating a moment as a panic rushed over me unsure I heard him correctly.

"If you what?"

"What if, I married you?" He asked, "I'm a surgeon so your father would be happy to wed me his daughter, I have a house with plenty of space and not a soul to share it with, I have a decent income so you'd only need to be a housewife, you wouldn't even have to clean the theatre if you didn't want to." He explained, "I feel you and I get along better than I do with most other ladies, in fact, I feel I get along best with you above everyone else in the world. I am happy to keep your secret, you and I can go to your father in a few days. I can ask for your hand and by the end of the month we can be married. Long before you start to show, you can grow the baby to term and I'll be there to hold your hand when the baby comes, and I'll welcome our little one as if they were my own. The world outside these walls and the baby needs never to know any different."

"Jack, you'd truly do that for me?'

"Of course I would,"

"You don't have to do that,"

"I know. I want to" he smiled, kissing my head. "I'd adore to have you as my wife,"

"That's so lovely Jack," I smiled, sitting up a little. "But I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's not fair for you to squander your life marrying me just because of this,"

"Y/n, I wouldn't ask if it was just because of this. Honestly... I've been considering it for some time now just never really got the opportunity to ask you."

"You mean it?"

"I do,"

"I... I can't - I'm sorry Jack." I said, "I'd love to marry you, I really would but I want this procedure, it has to be done,"

"Okay," he nodded "If that's what you want," he said, "After the procedure would you still want to marry me?"

"I would," I blushed "If that is you'd be happy to marry a-"

"Don't you even say that," he warns, "Don't you dare. You're not broken. You're not damaged. You're not some glass bottle y/n you're a woman. I don't care what's happened to you. If you're happy to marry me then I'd be happy to marry you too."

"Really?"

"Really." He nods, "So how about tomorrow morning I come over and speak to your father, ask him for your hand, we can be married by the end of the week and we can go through the procedure then, and I'll take my new wife up to bed once it's over and take care of you until your all better."

"That sounds perfect,"

"And maybe once you're all better we could... start on a little one of our own? Once you're comfortable of course,"

"I'd like that very much, Jack." I smiled and I nuzzled into his chest.

"Perfect. Then it's decided." he smiled and wrapped his arms around me tightly to pull me close into a cuddle "I'll see him first thing tomorrow morning, and as soon as he'll let me I'll make you Mrs y/n Dawkins,"

"Sounds pretty,"

"It suits you" he cooed, kissing my forehead. "So? Will you marry me, sweetheart?"

"I will Jack," I blushed.

"May I kiss my bride-to-be?" he whispered against my hair intertwining his fingers with my own.

"You normally have to wait for the wedding day for that,"

"I'm impatient," he shrugs playfully.

"Well... I suppose," I smiled, sitting up a little and resting my chin on his shirt.

He smiled squeezing my hand so I squeezed back his other hand came and stroked the back of the knuckle of his index finger across the length of my cheekbone ending with a playful bop on my nose before he smiled and leant in capturing my lips in a gentle kiss, he smelt like oak wood, old iron and petrichor, I could taste his earlier tea still lingering in his lips, his skin soft but his lips scarcely cracked from the heat and the sun, I enjoyed our kisses as I'd never enjoyed anything before, his kisses reminded me of sweet summer toffees, of birds cooing in the morning sun, of the sweet embrace of a warm soft bed. I felt comforted, sweetened and protected in a way I haven't felt since I was small.

When we pulled away I couldn't stop my smile as I snuggled back into his chest.

"humm now I have to marry you," he cooed.

"Do you?"

"I think if just a little kiss makes me feel like this, then I must be kissing the girl I should marry," he cooed.

We lay snuggly for a good while until finally, he broke the silence between us.

"Will you tell me? Why do you want to get rid of it so badly?"

"Because of its conception,"

"Understandable. Who's the father?"

"Jack-",

"Please, I promise I won't tell anyone and I'll all be over soon anyway. I just want to know,"

"My Uncle Warren," I answered, nuzzling as deep into his waistcoat as I could.

I felt his skin go cold, his heart slow, and his hands freeze up.

"Warren?" He asked and I nodded, "Your UNCLE!" he yelled and I nodded.

"Please don't be angry with me Jack," I whispered.

"No no no! Y/n sweetheart no I'm not angry at you I promise," he reassured, "I'm sorry but I have to make sure I heard you right," he said picking my face up in his hands and holding us so my nose was against his "Your uncle, Did this to you? Your father's brother, who lives with you, who has lived with you since you were six, did this to you?"

"Yes Jack," I nodded.

"How often does he do this to you?"

"At least twice a week. He'll come up to my room after dark and-" I began to cry.

"sh sh sh it's okay." He reassured, "You know what. I changed my mind. Let's go see your father now," he said as he got up.

"Are you sure Jack?"

"Ohh I'm positive sweetheart," he said as we gathered our things and headed to the door "ohh before I forget," he said as he rushed to the prep room a moment, "Perfect, that'll do," he smirked, as he returned with an impressive knife often used in his surgeries to cut through skin and muscle tissue.

"Jack?" I asked curiously.

"Come on then," he smiled, as he put the knife in his jacket and came to the door.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

"Going to talk to your father, come on," he smiled, as he took my hand as we headed out into the sunset of the evening.

"Jack why are you taking the -"

"We're just going to have a nice little chat." He said, "A nice little chat."

"You're not going to -"

"I just wanna talk to him,"

Finally, we arrived at my door and he knocked and held me close even if I was beyond frightened.

The door opened to my father who instantly saw me.

"There you are, girl! we've been worried sick about you -" he began, "ohh Dr Dawkins? This is a surprise what are you doing here?" he asked as he saw Jack with me perplexed as to why the two of us were together.

"Just popping by, may I come in?" Jack smiled,

"Of course come in, we're in the study," he said, as he ushered us both inside and into the study. I quickly sat on the short sofa by the fire and picked up my embroidery to try and preoccupy myself and keep myself silent as they often requested.

My father went to his small bar tray fixing himself a drink and one for Jack, both of which he set on the table between us all, before he sat on the sofa beside Warren. Jack found his seat on the chair in the centre, he gave me a small smile even if his eyes lingered on my uncle.

"What do we owe the pleasure doctor?" My uncle asked, but he looked at me as he asked,

"Well, I won't bother with pleasantries. Y/n. I want to marry her,"

My uncle spat his drink.

"You what?!" my father asked in shock.

"I wish to marry y/n,"

"Uhh, right? Are you sure?" My father asked, "A handsome, trained, gentleman such as yourself surely you'd be more interested elsewhere?"

"I am interested in her,"

"Well, the surgeon is certainly better than I'd thought she'd do. I was assuming she'd be a spinster or sell her off to the milk boy's son" He explained, "Well you'll be living in your house I presume?"

"Of course,"

"You'll take care of her? Treat her well?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Well, Alright." he shrugged, "So long as you're sure? That's my only rule you can't bring her back," He joked.

"That will not be a concern, sir."

"Alright, well I am pleased to allow this engagement," He smiled, "Congratulations you two,"

"You're alright with the wedding being soon? We don't really want to wait."

"The sooner the better!" My father smiled, "We must celebrate, I'll fetch us some champagne," He smiled and got up from his seat and gave my head a little kiss as he passed and headed out of the study.

"This is good news indeed," My uncle smirked. "Very sudden," he smirked, as he got up and came to loom over me "You really believe you're going to get away from me that easily?"

"I'd step back if I were you," Jack warned him and pressed his knife against Warren's chest and he forced him to move back,

"Why should I? She's my niece,"

"Yeah, and I know what you've been doing to her."

Immediately he looked furious "Whatever she told you, It's a lie."

"Forgive me if I make my own assumptions."

"Fine, I'll back up," he said, as he moved back a little.

"Good. Now I hear that you're anywhere near my fiancé, or that you've done anything to her I'll cut your cock off,"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would." he warned, "And I'm a surgeon. I know how to do it and make sure you survive to suffer,"

"Fine," He said as he returned to his sofa.

Jack smiled and sat beside me as he hid his knife away and gave my cheek a little kiss as my father returned with some champagne.

I was skittish but I knew this had to happen. The last few days have been so busy. Our wedding was so precious even if it was small and brief, I had moved into the house and it very quickly felt like home, Jack had made sure of that. He had made the place cosy for me, often checking in on me to see if I was alright and so far he had been the best husband I could have ever wished for. I strolled through the locked-up house by the glow of my candle, only my cotton nightgown against my skin I had accepted this would be the last time I would likely wear it. I reached the theatre, the stalls were dark and empty, the windows blacked out, and even the door to the prep room bolted and curtained with only the door I walked through left open for me. The chandelier hung above the bed lighting this room enough to see, the table prepared freshly cleaned with a cover over it, and sawdust under the table to aid in cleaning.

The room was utterly silent.

Jack stood in front of his small table, lining items across the table from a Water Basin. The tools all lingered there in the boiling water already freshly cleaned, he took them from the water and dried them with a new cloth before setting them in their place on a covered table. All this was far more covered and more cleanliness than was typical of Jack and his work but I suppose in his mind, It's not every day he operates on his own wife. I stepped In and closed the door behind me, I bolted the lock and turned to give him a grim smile. He smiled back a little more optimistic than my own smile silence still between us in the hope that everything we were to do tonight would be a secret between only us and the ghosts.

He offered his hand so I set my candle down and went over, I took his hand and he softly pressed a kiss there, he stroked my cheekbone and playfully smiled as he gave my nose a little bop and then a kiss before he helped me up onto the table.

"Just relax sweetheart," he reassured, as he adjusted me slightly, "Any discomfort?" he asked,

"I'm very hungry and thirsty," I admit,

"I know sweetheart," he smiled and kissed my forehead, "I'll make you some soup and a nice big glass of juice as soon as we're done I promise," he said as he used the buckle belts on the table to restain my legs and arms even my stomach and for a moment I giggled.

"Ohh Jack, if you were into that sort of thing you should really have told me before we got married,"

"Don't be cheeky Mrs Dawkins Or I'll give you such a spanking," He warned

"You'll be gentle? Won't you?"

"Of course I will," he reassured, "As gentle as I can be." He smiled, "I mean it's in my best interest too, you're my wife."

"I suppose you would be very interested in maintaining that part of me," I blushed.

"Well yes. But I was more thinking, you're my wife. I'm the one that's going to have to deal with you. I cause you too much pain I'll never hear the end of it,"

"No, you won't," I told him.

"Okay, you ready?" he asked.

"I'm ready," I nodded.

"I'll take care of you, I promise," He reassured me as he offered me the little cup that contained the anaesthesia. I happily swallowed it even if it tasted terrible, "There we go, you get some rest sweetheart, I'll take care of you,"

"Thank you, Jack," I smiled. We shared a sweet kiss before I began to drift away falling into a deep sleep.

I woke up and I felt sore, my whole body ached, my body lay in my bed with blankets and pillows, and everything hurt but it was a pain I knew well as it reminded me so much of my monthly pains.

"Sweetheart, Hey? Are you feeling okay?" Jack asked as he came through into the bedroom with some soup and juice that he sat by the table

"Everything hurts," I answered.

"It will do," He smiled, sitting beside me and giving my forehead a little kiss, "but it's all done. Nothing to worry about any more,"

"It's gone?"

"Gone. Now I'm going to be taking care of you until you're all better," he smiled, "You need to rest, take it easy, be gentle with yourself, No baths you're going to have to shower I'm more than happy to help with that," he winked, "And two, maybe three weeks you'll be good as new,"

"thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome, Go on have your soup you need anything at all just call alright I'll be in the office" He explained, he gave me a sweet kiss before he went to head out of the bedroom.

"Jack?"

"Yeah y/n?"

"I love you," I giggled.

"Love you too sweetheart" He cooed as he blew me a kiss and headed down to his office.

#tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #artfuldodger #jack #jack dawkins #jackdawkins

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sassenach77yle · 6 months ago

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“I feel much better,” I assured him. “Shall I have a look at it?” He was wearing the loose petticoat breeches the sailors wore, in which he could easily have concealed three or four dead mullet, let alone a fugitive firmness. “You shall not,” he said, looking slightly shocked. “Someone might come in. And I canna think your looking at it would help a bit.” “Well, you can’t tell that until I have looked at it, can you?” I said.

“Besides, you can bolt the door.”

“Bolt the door? What d’ye think I’m going to do? Do I look the sort of man would take advantage of a woman who’s not only wounded and boiling wi’ fever, but drunk as well?” he demanded. He stood up, nonetheless.

“I am not drunk,” I said indignantly. “You can’t get drunk on turtle soup!”

Voyager

#outlander #outlanderedit #the frasers #outlander starz #outlander series #jamie fraser #outlander fanart #samheughan #jamie&claire #jamie and claire #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #dr claire randall #outlander books #outlander season 3 #outlander 3x11 #caitrionabalfe

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chic-a-gigot · 5 months ago

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Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 29, vol. 17, 21 juillet 1895, Paris. 2. Grands cols lingerie. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

(2.) Grands cols lingerie. — La mode dédaigne totalement ces cols en guipure style Louis XIII. Les voici remplacés par les grands cols Louis XIV en linon brodé qui empruntent à l’imprévu leurs plus hardis caprices et dessinent poétiquement le cou et les épaules. Cet harmonieux encadrement rend la tête si fraîche, si fine, si jolie que les grandes mondaines l’adaptent â leurs chemises de nuit. C’est la variété du goût aristocratique dans sa plus originale expression que les créations en ce genre de la maison Jeanne d��Arc. Les Parisiennes raffinées et les riches étrangères accueillent ces types inédits, d’une si exquise distinction, comme une inspiration de leur renom d’élégance. Les prix établis pour ces grands cols sont les suivants: 10fr.50, 12fr.50, 15fr.50, 20 francs, 25 francs et 30 francs. Le nouvel album créé par Mme Desbruères est mis à la disposition de toutes nos lectrices; il suffit d’en faire la demande. Ce catalogue donne tous les prix des corsets avec buse ou sans buse, lingerie, trousseaux, jupons de soie, ainsi que la manière de prendre soi-même les mesures. Il suffit d’écrire à la Maison Jeanne d’Arc, 265 rue Saint-Honoré, Paris.

(2.) Large lingerie collars. — Fashion totally disdains these Louis XIII style guipure collars. Here they are replaced by the large Louis XIV collars in embroidered lawn which borrow their boldest whims from the unexpected and poetically outline the neck and shoulders. This harmonious framing makes the head so fresh, so fine, so pretty that great socialites adapt it to their nightgowns. It is the variety of aristocratic taste in its most original expression that the creations of this kind from the house of Jeanne d’Arc. Refined Parisians and wealthy foreigners welcome these unique types, of such exquisite distinction, as an inspiration for their reputation for elegance. The prices established for these large passes are as follows: 10.50 francs, 12.50 francs, 15.50 francs, 20 francs, 25 francs and 30 francs. The new album created by Ms. Desbruères is made available to all our readers; you just need to request it. This catalog gives all the prices of corsets with or without a busk, lingerie, trousseaux, silk petticoats, as well as how to take your own measurements. Just write to Maison Jeanne d’Arc, 265 rue Saint-Honoré, Paris.

#Le Petit écho de la mode #19th century #1890s #1895 #on this day #July 21 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #description #Forney #dress #collar #Modèles de chez #Maison Jeanne d'Arc #Maison Desbruères

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melinoelliones · 1 year ago

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Vincent had a long days work ahead, files and documents covered his desk from top to bottom. However, he had just called you to his office, what could he need from a maid?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Warnings: Slight manipulation, choking, affairs, blowjob, cursing, teasing, crying, lust, one night stand? fem reader

1.7k words

This is so rushed i’m sorry Black Butler fans!!!

“Are you just going to stand there? I called you down here for a reason, now come” he demanded, not even lifting his eyes off of the stack of documents on his desk. “Oh, sorry, yes master” you shuddered, jumping out of your trance and making your way over to his side, not forgetting to bow, “Why are you acting so shy and modest all of a sudden, this wasn’t the side you showed me the other night now was it”.

Your master, Earl Vincent Phantomhive had thrown the party of all parties a couple days before for all the elites, one thing may have led to another which ended in you sleeping with him. It was not what you had intended to do, you were his maid afterall, if anyone was to find out it would be a disaster. Why would he bring it up now? Especially considering after it happened he had said to keep it between you both.

“W~What are you talking abo~ ah” you shrieked ever so slightly as you felt a hand between your thighs, riding up your dress, “stop being so loud she’ll hear you, but back to why I called you here, will you be ever so kind as to help your master relieve some of this stress” Vincent asked as nonchalantly as could be, again eyes never leaving the papers.

“How would you like me to do that? I could get Tanaka to maybe make you some tea, let me go get hi~” “you know that's not what I want” he looked up at you, pushing his chair out from under his desk to grip onto your dress as you attempted to walk away. “But I’m just a maid”, “a maid who’s almost begging for me to touch them? How foolish do you think I am exactly?” he laughed, your eyes widening as his eyes turnt to you for the first time today.

“Ever since that night I’ve noticed you avoiding me, claiming to be unwell and taking days off yet you seemed perfectly fine to me when you were getting off to me in your quarters. Or did you think I wouldn’t know?” he crooked his head, wondering how you would dare to respond to those accusations. As you attempted to think of a lie he cut you off, “even now your dress has less petticoats, I can practically see your entire body, this was what you wanted no?”.

You couldn’t even deny it, this was a fantasy you had had for a while but you hadn’t expected it to play out like this. Not with him in control of the situation anyway, but you were not going to let it slip away that easily.

“A lady mustn't reveal all her secrets, my lord” you smiled, taking a step between the desk and chair before moving to your knees under it. “That's what I wanted to see” he smirked, freeing his cock from his trousers. A small gasp leaving your lips as he took it out, the night you spent together was nothing but a blur so you hadn’t remembered him being as big as he was.

As you took his piece in your hands you were met with a slight groan from him, letting you know how pent up he was, which was perfect for you of course. You gently moved it towards you, molding it in your palm as it grew with each movement.

“Show me what you’ve been so desperate to do.” Vincent grinned peering at you under the desk, “yes, my lord” you nodded, placing your fingers on the cusp of his cock, pressing tightly as you stuck your tongue out letting a drop of your saliva cover his tip. “But why must we rush, you like to tease do you not?” you jested, watching his thighs tense up.

Whilst you kneaded his aching piece in your fingertips he huffed, unsure of how you would steer the situation, “only one of us is in the position to do the teasing, you are still just a common whore that so happens to be my wife's maid”. Your body responded for you, tightening as he chuckled “Oh, does that turn you on?” he smirked.

Without another word you skimmed your tongue along his girthy shaft before parting your lips attempting to take his entire length in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the lingering burn in his stomach, “A~Atta girl, you got it”.

You bobbed your head up and down taking as much as you could, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. “Fuuuck, full of surpr~rises are we”, he asked as his hand slid to your hollowed cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, a slight pressure being added. His body turnt back to simultaneously finish his work on the desk whilst his fingers curled around your tied up hair.

You hadn’t expected the Earl to be so forward with you, not when you knew his wife could be almost anywhere in the manor, either way it was turning you on little by little. Your heated cheeks along with the large ache between your thighs almost taking over your body as you squeezed them together, allowing yourself that bit of pleasure.

Vincent's groans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling. You slid a hand between the folds of your skirt, “f~fuck” you cried out against his cock as you ran your fingers across your sopping underwear, the friction from the fabric against your swollen clit sending you into a spiral. If only you could see the sloppy handwriting you were causing the Earl to have.

As the scene was at its peak you heard the door creek open, both of you freezing almost instantly, “Goodmorning my love, have you seen that girl anywhere?”. Although you could only hear the woman, you knew exactly who it was, Vincent gave you the fiercest of expressions before lifting his head to his wife, “Who are you referring to my dear?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“That maid you hired for me, I remember her saying she felt a bit under the weather so I wanted to see if she would like to take a stroll with me down to the river, the fresh air could do her some good I think” Rachel beamed, completely unaware of the scene just on the other side of the desk. Your body ran cold as she spoke, Rachel was the sweetest and most patient of women and always treated you almost like an equal yet here you were, sucking off her husband.

“Oh is that r~right”, “darling, are you alright?” “YES, yes I’m fine, don’t step any closer” he commanded, his body folding over the papers on his desk at your actions. The guilt of the situation had weirdly given you a boost, it was almost as if you liked this. In the middle of the conversation you had run your hand down his cock, toying with his balls.

“I think she’s c~closer than you t~think” he hissed, pushing your head further into him as you choked out, his crown hitting the back of your throat constantly as tears ran down your face. “Oh, okay dear thank you, I will speak to you once you’ve finished up those papers” she curtsied, pulling up the door to continue her search.

His eyes widened as he lent back in his chair, before he could even say another word you felt him shudder, and as if on cue he released, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, holding whatever remained in your mouth. “W~Well I didn’t e~expect this”, you could hear his subtle whines as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

“G~od you’re fucking amazing, now cmon and show me the mess you’ve made”, his voice bellowed, watching you slow down, using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as Vincent used your hair to pull you off his cock. You gazed at him alluringly, tear stained cheeks on display as the trail of liquids from his shaft and the sides of your lips broke, allowing you to show him your tongue.

“Perfect, now swallow” he ordered, pulling you up from the ground to your feet, his piece still on display as you took it all down. “You have no shame do you, tears down your cheeks yet you didn’t seem to slow down as my wife spoke. She would be so disappointed in you right now” he sighed sarcastically, using his thumb to wipe the corners of your lips, your pathetic face almost laughable.

“Well? Why are you still in my presence, your ladyship is looking for you is she not?” The stern Earl scoffed, your body not even sure of how to react. “Oh, um, yes, my lord” you stuttered, slowly edging towards the side of the desk, his blank stare burnt into your mind as you turnt to face the door. Had this all meant nothing?

As you went to push off the desk you felt a presence, “How amusing” he cooed in your ear as you stomach hit the desks face, his body hovering above your back. “Taking our time are we? Well, what should I do with you now” he growled, a hand inching your skirt up as he nibbled your neck. His bare cock pressed up against your lower half, you needed him badly.

Watching your pitiful attempt at leaving was almost comical to the Earl, but he had never intended for you to leave so soon, not when he knew you were a whore with no morals. He was more than ready to make use of his wifes little expedition, your body was his for the taking and you were more than eager to give it to him. He would not stop until all his stress was gone.

#vincent phantomhive #Vincent Phantomhive x Reader #Vincent Phantomhive smut #black butler #black butler x reader #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji smut #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader smut #Vincent Phantomhive x reader smut #black butler x reader smut #melinoelkinktober23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #meli noel work's

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bloodchapell · 4 months ago

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tiffany's lolita coord - armin a.

brief summary: finally asking armin to let you style him, you expect him to ask to look like yoshiki or atsushi but he requests something unexpected. dressing him in your clothes, styling his hair and even putting makeup on him sparkles a new light in both of you.

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning, physical touch, lots of tension, cross dressing, #who is tiffany!?

your sword’s note: this was lowkey how i got the idea for the whole series, id just love to dress armin in egl. all past and future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

“Mana-sama?” You repeat after him.

Armin had been listening to Malice Mizer non-stop, and was fascinated by Mana-sama. He also had seen you already in the beautiful black dresses traditional of gothic lolita and he was sure you couldn’t look more beautiful. He secretly wished he could completely change at least for one day and look as cute, and though he kept it precisely as a secret, when you two started talking about your shared wish for him to get styled by you, he saw the opportunity and ran with it.

“I want to look like Mana-sama.” He demands as soon as he agrees to your question.

“This is for the books .” You mumble fascinated to yourself, getting off your bed and looking for the ancient looking box under your bed that had the clothes you couldn’t fit in the closet. Before you start looking for one you decide to take his measurements and see which dresses would fit him instead of trying all of them. You ask him to stand up too and after grabbing the measuring tape and tell him to take his knitted sweater off so the measuring is more accurate.

His eyes trace the movements of your hands carefully, still kinda nervous of having you so close. You extend the tape and ask him to lift his arms, then wrap the tape around his chest and tell him the measurement so he can write it down in the little notepad you gave him. You measure the length of this arms, torso, waist and the distance from his waist to his knees; you do not measure anything else, you’ll figure it out without the measurement of his hips.

Now with his measurements you kneel back down and look in the treasure chest for a dress that fits him. Armin is a little taller than you by a few inches, but the difference from his built to yours is still notorious. There is only two dresses that you determine fitting. He chooses the black one and you nod, looking around for the undershirt, stockings, petticoat and other accessories. You explained in what order and how to wear every garment and he nodded hesitantly.

“Here, I will leave the room and you can change, let me know when I can walk back in.” You give him the things and now that the whole thing seems actually serious he gets hesitant.

“This is going to sound very ignorant but is it wrong to wear this?” He asks holding the clothes, adverting his gaze from meeting yours.

“What do you mean?” You asked without completely understanding what was he implying as being possibly wrong. “It’s really just clothes. I don’t think it’s wrong for anyone to wear any clothing unless it is meant to offend someone in any way or if it’s something inappropriate in front of kids or stuff like that.”

“I just don’t want you to think wrong of me… I was too quick to jump and say Mana-sama.” Armin fidgets with the fabric. He doesn’t want to say it and you know what he is trying to say and why.

“I won’t think wrong of you Armin.” You take the clothes off his hands and put them in the bed so you can hold his hands. “I dress like a guy sometimes and that doesn’t mean I am mocking men or I am any less feminine… it doesn’t mean I become gay for it, though I do like girls too but that is not the point…”

He blushes at your words. He had seen you dressing oddly masculine sometimes but had brushed it off as just ambiguous… and he didn’t know the rest.

“You like girls…?” It was almost possible to physically hear his heart stopping and shattering. His mind was already racing to make him overthink.

“I like people, why should I care about what they are if they’re cool.” You summarized and he felt his soul crawling back to his body very embarrassed. It made sense.

“I shouldn’t really be complaining, an essential part of vkei is androgyny and I know it…” His blue eyes are just focused on your hands, his teeth playing nervously with the piercing on his lip. “I’m just insecure… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…” You lift your hand from his and place him by his cheek, moving a strand of hair behind his ear, trying to make him look at you and at the same time comfort him by caressing his cheek. “I used to also worry if it made me less of a girl to dress like a guy, but that was just me doubting it. Still if you don’t want to do it there is nothing wrong with it.”

“No, I still want to do it.”

You gave him a smile and let go of his other hand to pull him in for a hug; your arms wrapped around his neck closing the distance. He didn’t know how to react at first, differently to the hugs you’d give him when saying bye, this felt more intimate because you were hugging him tightly. He took a second to reciprocate but eventually he gave in and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his forehead on your shoulder. Your heart was beating so fast that he could feel you exhaling trying to calm down, but he didn’t notice because he was worried you could feel his unsteady breath on your shoulder from how nervous he was. The hug lasted for a while because you both didn’t want to let go plus you were also afraid of facing each other after such a moment.

“Get dressed and let me know when you’re done.” You pulled away from the hug leaving the dorm and closing the door as fast as humanly possible so he wouldn’t notice the heavy blush on your face.

It took him longer than expected.

“I think I need your help…” He peeked outside the door. You nodded and walked back in the room. He looked so cute that you could’ve had a heart attack.

The problem was that he couldn’t tie the ribbon on the back on the dress that gave form to the shape of the waist.

“I’ll get that for you.” You reassured and stood behind him. Your hands straightened the fabric in the front and moved slowly to the back to rectify that it stayed straight and close to his body, once in the back, you put the lace through the holes crossing it from side to side and once finished you pulled the ribbon to tighten the dress around his body and tied it in a bow. You then moved around to stand facing him and take a look at him. The dress suited him perfectly and though it was intended to be a little longer than other dresses, it seemed normal on him.

“You look so cute!” You praised making him turn around for you to take a closer look. He smiled when hearing you complimenting him. “Now let me continue.”

You made him sit down in the desk and wait while you brought your makeup.

“Isn’t my hair too short?” He wondered and you looked at him.

“Well yeah but we can’t magically make it grow.” You answered but then a sinister idea came to your mind. You looked back on the treasure chest and pulled out a black wig with curls and bangs. “So Mana-sama esque!”

You put the wig cap on his head and opened the makeup bag. You laughed looking at his bangs being out of his forehead for the first time, he looked so handsome…

Proceeding with his makeup you started by applying moisturizer to your hands and gently massaging his face. His face was blushed completely. After some sunscreen, you applied some primer, then concealer to correct some uneven tones in his skin, applied a little blush on his cheekbones upwardly to shorten his face and make him look cuter, then applied your lightest foundation on his face and blended it out.

“Wasn’t the blush after this?” He asked opening his eyes to look at you.

“It’s a cream blush so it’s kind of strong, I put it before the foundation to give it a more natural look. I also don’t like that it’s a warm coral, so after I put some setting spray and translucent powder I will put a little powder blush that has a cool tone to cancel it out. It’s more accurate to your skin tone and it looks very similar to the actual pale pink in which your cheeks blush.”

“Stop!!!” He demanded laughing ashamed and covering his face without actually touching to not ruin the base of the makeup. You laughed softly at how cute he was.

Continuing the makeup you applied some white concealer in his eyelids for the eyeshadow to show more vibrantly and started to do his eyeliner in a way it made his eyes look bigger and rounder, then mascara in his eyelashes and you drew bottom eyelashes to make his eyes look even bigger. Since he asked to look like Mana-sama, the eyeshadow was inspired by one of his looks, you applied a good amount of mascara on his eyelashes. For the lips you put a black lipgloss on his lips and asked him to even it out. To add the last touch you applied again setting spray.

“I feel odd..." He said looking in the mirror while you put the black wig over his head. "It feels wrong in a good way I guess..."

With the black wig on, Armin look like a completely different person. His soft features that were even more softened with the makeup and the curly wig made him look like a girl. And the frilly and poofy dress adorned his body delicately. His blue eyes kept looking over every detail of his new and unfamiliar aspect in the mirror as in trying to digest the whole thing.

From the treasure chest you pulled out all the headpieces that matched the dress and he chose a black headdress, so you secured it to the wig and tied it under his chin.

"Well you are now done, sadly our shoe size is very different and my shoes won't fit you." Finishing twirling around the synthetic curls to define them more and combing with your fingers the bangs over his forehead you said only to move in front of him and take a good look at him. Armin looked stunning, he looked so beautiful that you were even a little envious of how cute he could look.

"I have some black boots." He looked so different that he himself didn't recognize his image and could mistakenly fall in love with the cute girl in the mirror.

"Do you want me to go get them?" You asked and he stood up.

"I think I want to go out like this." He said looking at himself in the mirror for a long time, turning around to see himself from every angle. You turned around surprised, definitely not expecting him to say that.

"Well, let me get dressed and I will show you my favorite spot in town to be cute." You said excited while getting your things. After finishing getting dressed and applying makeup, you made sure to wear tall shoes to be on Armin's height. "Now we are the same size so it doesn't look weird that the "girl" is taller than the "guy"."

"That is so full of prejudice! There are tall girls and I am one of them." He joked pretending to be mad and you couldn't help but laugh.

There is no need to say how shy he was to walk out of your dorm. He had walked in differently and was now walking outside as a total different person. He kept complaining that his white sneakers didn't match the look and was completely embarrassed for it, which to you was nothing but cute; it’d be hard for you in the past to believe you if you said Armin was complaining about his shoes not matching his outfit.

"I love your fit." On the entrance of your dorm some girl told him and he nodded smiling too nervous to speak. You two walked from your building to his, he got a few looks from people passing by and you had to remind him that they were looking at him because he looked like he had escaped from a magical girls anime and not because they knew it was actually honors student Armin Arlert crossdressing through campus.

Once at his dorm, you sat down in the living room while he looked for the shoes in his room but then you both heard the very far away but approaching loud voice of Eren.

"What do we do!?" Armin started panicking and though it made you laugh initially you tried to not do so to not make him feel bad.

"Calm down, get into the bathroom and call Eren, tell him you gave me the keys to pick something up... and that I brought over a friend because she needed to use the bathroom." Pushing him into the bathroom you said.

Armin called Eren and said exactly what you told him, so when the door started to open, the brunette already knew and wouldn't be surprised at your presence in his place.

"Oh my god! I can finally meet you!" Eren jumped to shake your hand once he saw you, his green eyes looking you up and down and mentally taking a note agreeing with Armin's scarily accurate description of you. "Armin is so evil for not letting me, his basically brother, meet you before. I'm..."

"Eren, I know." You smiled and he nodded. After some small talk you realized that if you didn't stop him, Eren would talk your ears off. "Uhm, I think we need to get going to meet Armin, right Tiffany?"

You knocked in the bathroom door and for long minutes Armin stayed quiet, but eventually he came out, with the shoes already on.

"That is your friend?" Eren asked, probably referring to what Armin had told him in the call.

"Yeah, her name is Tiffany and she is a... uhm... childhood education major." You made the story up, knowing that behind all that foundation Armin was insanely red. "But yeah... we need to go, I don't want Armin waiting too long, it was nice meeting you Eren."

You rushed out of the door holding Armin's wrist.

"Bye!" He said in the door seeing you both run away. "Bye Tiffany!"

Once out of the sight of Eren, you both started laughing.

"Tiffany? Seriously?" Armin asked kinda out of breath. “Quit it Tiffany, that is your new persona when you are wearing lolita.” You affirmed to him while trying not to laugh. With the boots on, his coordinate looked more complete.

You two walked the longish way to the bus stop and waited while listening to Best of Blood. In the bus you taught him how to act like a noble from the eighteenth century. Initially he wanted to speak with an accent but he decided to follow Mana-sama’s example and just don’t talk at all.

“Hey uhm… I hope this doesn’t come off as weird but you are very pretty… could I possibly take you on a date?” While walking to the mystery place to told him about, a guy wearing the varsity jacket of your university approached him while you were looking t the window of a store. Armin looked at you with a mix of panic and laughter that he could barely contain on his face.

“Yo she has a boyfriend bro…” You grabbed Armin’s hand and tried to speak with a lower tone than the normal one of your voice.

“I’m so sorry bro, no hard feelings.” The guy seemed genuinely sorry and even offered his hand to dab you up as he assumed you were the alleged boyfriend and left completely embarrassed.

For a second you both stayed quiet, seeing the guy walk away.

“Did that guy just hit on me?” Armin slowly said, turning a little to see you. It felt odd for him to see you being slightly taller than you. “It appears so. too bad Tiff is cuffed.” You said showing your hand over his and laughing but he didn’t laugh. His heart was racing and there was only so much the foundation on his face could do to cover his severe blush. The awkward feeling of another man trying to take him, or more accurately, trying to take Tiffany on a date was completely erased when you jumped to help him implying that you two were dating. You implied that you two were dating.

It didn’t matter to him that you said you were Tiffany’s boyfriend, if he was a girl and you were a guy he’d date you, he’d also date you if he was a girl and you were a girl too, hell he would date you even if you were a guy because as long as it was you it didn’t matter to him what you were as long as it was you, because he liked and loved you and every aspect of your personality, plus you could really rock anything you were or decided to be.

“Yeah.” Armin managed to respond, too lost in his head to formulate a proper reply. His hand slowly grabbing yours back as you started walking —still holding hands— towards the place you had told him about.

“We’re here.” You said opening the door for him, as a true “gentleman” and he thanked you.

“Tea house.” He read from the sign in the door.

There was some French song playing in the store while you two sat down, both in the booth side of the table. The air felt tense as if both of you wanted to do something, anything, grab the other’s hand, maybe throw in for a hug, or even lean for a kiss… The growing feeling inside you both started to turn unbearable, a kind of heartache that came only from longing so hard that the months you had known each other for felt eternal and equivalent to a whole lifetime of being fathoming about the love you had for the other.

When the tea and pastries arrived, Armin saw his reflection on the golden liquid in the ceramic cup, easily mistaken his true self for Tiffany, but he still could see himself in his eyes, his self that had something against him and would not let him believe for any reason that you could like him back; there was some sort of insurrection because a strange shine in his eyes screamed for him to do something.

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asphalt-cocktail · 10 months ago

Text

Lead Us to Temptation- Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt

Summary: In the small town of Eden Ridge, you knew several things to be true: church happened every Sunday, the saloon served free lunch with the purchase of a drink on Thursdays, coal miners left work at 7PM sharp, and Bucky Barnes was a man sent from the depths of hell dangling the threat of temptation and sin right in front of your face. All you need to do is reach out and grab it.

Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Nicknames, heavy religious themes in this chapter, mentions of threatening with a gun and criminal activity, thunder storms, smut, oral f receiving, virginity kink (sorry but also I’m not), arguing, talk of marriage, good old fashioned catholic guilt

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

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Chapter 1- Precious Lord Take my Hand

Dinner with Bucky in Thunder Creek was… well it could have been better. The dinner itself was lovely, the part that soured it was the big gray storm clouds that created a contrasting line against the bright blue sky. You could feel the humidity weighing the air in the restaurant and feel the sudden drop of pressure along with the cold breeze that blew in with the storm.

April showers did in fact bring May flowers.

They also forced you to bed down for the night in the local hotel. There was no way you’d be able to make the two hour ride back home and avoid ending up soaked to the bone or having a tree fall on you from the violent winds that whipped. You’d catch your death if you stayed out in this type of weather too long.

The spring thunderstorm promised the renewal of life to the brown and yellow earth, it brought both anticipation and fear. Fat raindrops fell from the sky, once a bright cloudless shade of green is now a tempest of charcoal gray as heavy storm clouds cover it. The heavy drops of rain were swallowed up by the thirsty ground turning the streets into muddy rivers.

Bucky licked his lips, deep in thought and looked down the street to the hotel. It was only a matter of time before the last rooms were taken by the other visitors in town. He handed you his jacket for you to cover yourself and wrapped an arm around you, sprinting at a leisurely but rushed pace to salvation. Mud splattered up the back of your boots, sticking to your tights and soiling the bottom of your dress. The creaky wooden floor boards just outside the hotel sag and groan under the weight of water as you step into the hotel, wet and shivering like a stray dog.

You didn't know how, but he’d managed to finesse the last hotel room in town. It was something close to a miracle you thought. Bucky would never tell you that he pressed the barrel of his six shooter deep into the side of the clerk and demanded a room while you looked at the various taxidermied game that hung like trophies on the wall.

After a nice warm bath your clothes were dry enough for you to pick the dried chunks of mud off the hem of your skirt and brush it off your boots. Since it was night time, you didn't even bother changing back into your petticoat, bodice, and dress. Instead you hid behind the changing screen, mind consumed with the fact that you and Bucky would have to share a bed tonight.

The rain swelled to a great deluge that is enough to drown out the conversations in the hotel lobby, people angry that there are no more rooms left and arguing with the clerk. Outside the trees bend and sway, the weaker branches snapping loudly and falling to the ground. There was no way you’d be able to make it home, not in a storm like this.

Thunder rumbled, low and menacing as you played with the little tie on the front of your chemise. You were scared, scared of what your father would say when you returned in the morning, scared of what Father Liska would say during your confessional. You didn't have to worry about what the women would say at their bible study groups. They already loved to talk about you out of both sides of their mouth.

You felt exposed in the thin white fabric, it did very little to hide your womanly figure. You’d never been in such a state of undress in front of someone before, not in your entire adult life at least. Nerves flipped in your gut as lightning struck outside, flashing and illuminating the low lit room followed by the low rumble of thunder.

The changing screen did very little to help you feel less exposed, knowing that all that stood between you and Bucky were a few tall wooden panels. You poked your head around the corner of the screen and saw Bucky’s back to you. He had already stripped down to his cotton drawers and was shedding his shirt.

Your eyes were drawn to a scar on his shoulder, it emerged from his skin like the smudge of a brush stroke, edges jagged and uneven, the skin taut. The pink hue stood out against Bucky’s tanned skin, starting at his shoulder and tracing the contours and muscle of his arm before it tapered off at the elbow. You could only imagine the terrible memories that came along with it.

You forced yourself to look away, now distracted by broad planes of his back, built from decades of intensive labor and living off the lam. The muscles rippled with Bucky’s movement tempting you to touch him.The sight made you a bit light headed and your stomach throbbed with an unfamiliar feeling. Stiffly, you stepped out from behind the changing screen.

The creak of the floor boards under your feet alerted him. He turned, it felt like Bucky’s eyes were going to burn your clothes right off with how hard he was staring. You didn't want to look up and meet his hungry gaze, but you could picture exactly what he looked like as he devoured you.

“Please stop staring.” You tried to sound biting, but it came out weak. Nervous even. You crossed your arms over your chest to try and allow yourself some modesty.

In one large step Bucky was in front of you. His hands lightly grasped your arms, and gave them a light tug. You rested them against the firm planes of his pectorals, “I'm just thinking about all the fun we can have tonight.” He dipped his head, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Just me and you.”

You gasped, breath stolen by his suggestive words. They made your gut twist with nerves. Every God-fearing part of your brain was burned away with a hellfire that warmed your body. You swallowed thick and exhaled through your nose, “I’ve… I’ve never…” you trailed off almost too embarrassed to let the words come out.

Bucky let go of you, hands jumping away like he just touched hot iron. The sudden distance between you both had you feeling exposed, vulnerable even.

Was it something you said? Did he not want you now?

“Bucky?” Your voice was meek.

You were a virgin?

Jesus Christ of course you were a virgin how could he be so stupid. So inconsiderate!

He wanted to skip all of the prose, all the ceremony of courtship and just take you here in this hotel room. He was thinking with his dick and not his brain. You must have been horrified at his advances.

He sat down on the edge of bed lost in his own head.

“Are you mad at me?” You didn’t know what else to ask. You pull him from the deep recesses of his brain and shattered his heart with the nerve in your voice.

“God sweetheart,” he huffed and grabbed your arms pulling you close and looked up at you, “Of course not.” His arms wrapped around your waist comfortingly.

If things were going to continue as they were he had to lay out all his secrets, even the ugly ones. He let out a soft exhale and looked away from you, “Look, if you’re going to be my woman there’s some things I need to tell you first.”

Well if that was supposed to comfort you it didn’t. It made you more afraid. What was he going to say? He had a secret family in Pennsylvania? He was wanted by the Pinkertons? He was a Protestant? That would truly be the worst out of all three of the options.

You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you were bedded by a Protestant.

He swallowed hard. Bucky desperately wanted to keep you hidden from his alternative lifestyle “I’m a wanted man babydoll.” His information served as a warning for what you would get yourself into should you continue seeing him.

His low, gravely tone sent a shiver down your spine and made the hair on your arms stand on end, “What do you mean?” You spoke in a hushed tone. You knew what it meant.

Well at least he wasn’t a Protestant. A criminal you could handle, something that could be forgiven.

“I’m not a good man.” He cleared his throat, his tone was almost pleading, “I’ve done…I do bad things.” He killed people, lied, stole, all without mercy. Bucky was not a nice man, he was mean and callous, calculating and manipulative. “But, Jesus, woman, I'd walk the line for you if it meant I could have you.” But for you, he’d get on his knees and beg for your love.

It should have made you push him away, seek the closest stagecoach, alert the town sheriff, run for the hills and call the Pinkertons, but hell it made you want him more. The air of danger around Bucky Barnes pulled you, like a moth to a flame, “You don’t have to walk any lines to have me.” You didn't care about his rambling ways. You wanted all of him, all his sins and imperfections. Your head spun with an intoxicating mixture of nerves and excitement, “I’m your woman now?”

“I don’t sit through Sunday mass for just anyone.” He reminded you. It was true, he’d manage to attend mass with you every Sunday and even stomached the post service lunch your family always had.

The heavens opened up and rain continued to fall from the sky, spraying the windows in waves. But you didn’t have half a mind to pay any attention to that now. Not when Bucky’s hand was sliding up and gripping the meat of your thigh so close to your butt, “Come on, sweetheart.” Bucky cooed and pressed his face between your breasts and kissed the valley.

Not when he was doing things like that.

“Lemme take care of you.” He coaxed your fear of damnation away with a few simple words. You moved, kneeling on either side of him and sitting on his lap, “That’s my girl.” He said softly, resting his hands on your thighs.

He kissed you softly, his beard scratching against your skin. You shyly opened for him, allowing his tongue to move and caress your own. You expected a rugged man like him to be a lot less gentle with you, but he was letting you set the pace tonight.

You could taste the sweat in his lip and the lingering tobacco from the cigarette he smoked an hour earlier. You relaxed into his touch as his hand slid up and snaked around you deepening the kiss.

Bucky’s hands roamed up your body, feeling the soft curve of your hips before grabbing your tits. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, noses barely touching, breathing in each other's labored breaths. His thumb brushed over a hardened nipple and you gasped at the foreign sensation, back arching slightly.

He wanted to watch you, see how your body reacted, see how your brain broke from the pleasure he gave you. His fingers kneaded the flesh of your heavy breasts and he pinched and twisted your nipples until they were sensitive and peaked.

Your cheeks reddened from embarrassment as he untied the front closure of your shift and pulled open the small split in the front, he kissed your neck then your chest before he pulled the thin white fabric down where it shelved beneath your breasts. You felt indecent. Exposed.

The cool air chilled you to the bone and made you shiver. Bucky mouthed at the sides of your tits licking and sucking on one and then the other until your back arched and you whined beneath him.

God if this was how you reacted to him playing with your tits, he couldn’t wait to hear how you sounded when he fucked you. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight, he was a gentleman after all. He couldn’t go having dessert twice in one night now could he? It was a bit too self indulgent for him and maybe too much of a shock for your poor catholic conscience.

But he was still planning on eating tonight. He was going to absolutely devour you. “Lay down.” You followed his command and moved, laying flat against the lumpy mattress and watched Bucky lay on his stomach and settle between your legs.

You sat up on your elbows, shuddering as you felt him kiss your thighs, getting dangerously close to your dripping cunt, “What are you going to do?” Your breathing quickened when you saw Bucky lick his lips and draw his lip between his teeth. He nuzzled the apex of your thigh, inhaling the natural heady scent of your arousal. The scent was so distinctly feminine, it made him ravenous.

“Bucky!” You squeaked, shocked at his behavior.

“Oh sugar, we haven’t even gotten started.” He said and kissed the top of your mound. In that moment you were certain Bucky Barnes was the serpent in the garden of Eden, beckoning you towards a life filled with sin and temptation, and by god you were going to take his hand and let him lead you there.

You gasped loudly, feeling the broad flatness of his tongue lick a stripe up your cunt, then back down again and shuttered at the foreign sensation. You flopped back onto the bed and hand immediately knotted itself into his dark hair gripping a fist full of it, hanging on for dear life, “Oh my god.” You huffed in disbelief. His mouth was really down there, licking you, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

His tongue traced little circles around your clit before he let out a groan and sucked on it, his actions hedonistic and greedy as he continued to indulge. The wet noises that came from between your legs mixed with the overwhelming pleasure that warmed your body and made you feel dizzy.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, a thick finger traced around your entrance before he stuffed it inside you. His finger penetrated your cunt, stuffing itself deeper inside you until the knuckle of his hand rested against your slippery skin. He pulled back and quickly added a second, stuffing them back in and curling them against your sinfully wet walls. You felt stuffed to the absolute brim, full with a delicious burn that made your fists clench the cotton sheets of the hotel mattress.

When you finally gained half a brain cell of consciousness you opened your eyes looking down and seeing his face coated in wetness.

Your wetness.

It coated his chin and cheeks, your thighs, drenched his hand as he fucked you with it. It was like the floodgates of heaven opened up from the Great Deep and the tide swallowed him whole.

The flat of his tongue found its way back to your clit, rubbing down and making you whine with pleasure. You dug your nails into Bucky’s scalp pulling a satisfied deep groan from your lover's mouth as he continued to devour you.

Bucky’s thumb replaced his mouth and he licked a spot of wetness from your thigh, “I can’t wait to fuck this tight little pussy.” He mumbled and pulled his fingers out, lightly slapping your sensitive, swollen clit. You hissed at the feeling and at his lascivious words before he stuffed you full once more and pressed his thumb against your clit rubbing it in a circle, “You want that?” He asked and you nod your head, “Want me to fuck this tight virgin cunt of yours?”

God he wanted to split you open, carve a hole for himself deep inside your untouched hole and fuck you stupid.

“Oh god yes,” you could feel your pussy throb as he continued to beat his fingers into you at a brutal pace and suck hard on your clit, pulling you closer and closer to the edge.

You clenched a fist full of his hair, grinding down onto his face, sloppily trying to meet the rhythm of his hand. The only sober part of your brain was thankful for the thunderous rain that continued to hammer the windows and covered the sounds coming from your hotel room.

Finally, your back is arching off the mattress, cunt pulsating and squeezing his fingers as he digs them further inside you, rubbing them against your walls and pulling more pleasure from you. Your body trembled, spasming around his fingers, flooding his face.

Bucky watched you in awe, your body writhing and twisting against the sheets, hair haloed around your head, lips kiss swollen and body flush with arousal. You were absolutely gorgeous. Responsive and gorgeous. He couldn’t let a girl like you go.

He was going to marry you if it killed him.

Bucky’s hands slowed and he licked your wetness off the soft skin of your thighs and stomach not wanting to waste a single drop of it before he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on those too groaning like he’d just had a tasty meal.

Watching him only fed sugar into the fire. You leaned up, pulling him towards you and sloppily kissed him, all tongue and teeth as you pushed down his drawers. Bucky smiled against your mouth and pushed your hands away, pushing you back onto the mattress, “Patience, sweetheart.” He scolded, and then laid next to you sighing with content.

“Aren’t we going to… well you know.” He stared at your confused expression and looked amused, “Have sex?” You finally said it out loud and it felt dirty. It felt like someone had dropped an anvil through the ceiling and it fell on your chest.

“Not tonight.” He answered, “We’ll work our way there, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I thought you said I was your woman” you didn’t know if it was because Bucky gave you an earth shattering orgasm, or what but you were just plain confused now.

“You are my woman.” He said and pulled you into his side, “One thing at a time love.” He wedged a leg between yours, tangling them together.

The following morning when you returned to town, braving the mud and fallen tree branches, the doors to the church seemed almost intimidating. You already knew how your father was going to react to your absence from the family home last night. Your brain was wrought with an overwhelming sense of guilt as Bucky took your hands and opened the tall wooden doors.

Father Liska’s homily only further propelled you into a cavern of guilty unholiness. It was like God himself told the father of what happened last night, of the wanton sin you committed. Laying with a man before marriage? How could you be so foolish?

“God does permit us to be tempted” Father Liska stood at the pulpit, usually his words of wisdom helped comfort you, “Not so that we fall, but so we grow in holiness,” No, this just made you feel worse, “Temptation forces us to rise up and make a choice for God or to succumb to the devil's temptation.”

You were going to be sick.

During the Rite of Peace you couldn’t bear to look at your father as he shook Bucky’s hand, death grip, jaw clenched, a bitter “Christ’s peace be with you.”

Bucky shook your fathers hand back firmly a smarmy smirk plastered across his face, “Christ’s peace be with you too sir.”

Then Bucky hugged your mom and kissed her cheek with a smooth “Christ’s peace be with you ma’am” which pissed your dad off too. Everything about Bucky pissed him off.

Once you were in the privacy of your family home, seated at the dinner table, Bucky next to you, parents on either end of the table, brother and sister-in-law across from the you, you father took it upon himself bring some good old fashioned shame to the table, “You didn’t return home last night.” He said loudly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Your mother said his name in a scolding tone, “No I didn’t. I’d have caught my death in that storm.” You sat up a bit straighter. It was true. Traveling two hours back home in the rain in wet clothes would have signed your death warrant.

“What were your sleeping accommodations like?” He probed further, trying to figure out a way to make you feel even guiltier than you already did. Remind you of the devil's presence in your life and how you succumbed to his temptations.

“Bucky paid for me to stay at the local inn. Is that what you want to hear from me?” You shot back sharply, “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big mess over it.” You threw your cloth napkin onto the table and pushed your seat back and stood up to leave.

“Sit down!” Your father snapped, “I’ll not have that disrespectful tone under my roof,” your father spoke sternly and then turned towards Bucky and pointed at him, “And you,” he said dramatically, “Are going to bring nothing but trouble for her and you know it.”

Bucky rubbed his hands in his trousers and leaned back in his seat, his casual posture contrasting your fathers intensity, “What makes you say that sir?” He was genuinely curious. There was no way your father would have known of his criminal history. Not when they were so far from the last town they’d committed a crime in and even then their faces had been covered. Bucky struck a match and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and waiting for the answer.

If he wanted to sit through someone pissing and moaning about how he lived his life he’d go talk to his own father, God rest his soul.

“You have no steady work, no land, no history outside of the few months you’ve been here. You parade around with a troupe of delinquents and bring good young women like my daughter down into the cesspit of a life you live. “

Bucky licked his lower lip, “With all due respect sir, it isn’t like your lifestyle is any better.” When your father scoffed loudly, throwing his hands up in disbelief, Bucky continued speaking before he could interrupt, “Wrath and greed might serve you well now, but you can’t buy your place in heaven.”

Your father was greedy, he was like a dragon who sat upon a hoard of black coal and iron, pillaging the Earth, taking what he wanted, and draining the life force of his workers. There was no way your father didn’t have as many, if not more lives than Bucky. His hands were undoubtedly stained red.

God spoke out, let there be light and your father damned his employees to a life beneath the ground. He probably didn’t even know their names, just the numbers crudely written on their mining helmets that correspond to his payroll ledger.

“Keep on digging, boy, that’s why you were born.” Born to serve the company, born to keep your fathers pockets fat and their own empty. It was a cruel, greedy joke that had been said too often.

Bucky took one more drag of his cigarette before he stubbed it out. You frowned, ultimately this was your mother’s fault, she was the one who had Bucky come by for after service lunch. Now here your father and Bucky were, making a scene in front of God and all his followers, “Now sir, I plan on marrying your daughter sooner or later, so I suggest you get all your acrimony out now because we will be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”

Your father opened his mouth to speak back and quickly your mother spoke up, “Not another word.” She hissed at him when he opened his mouth to speak back to Bucky, “James, dear, we’re extremely grateful you took care of our daughter. Aren’t we, darling?”

Your father didn’t answer her question, instead he stared, eyes narrowed at your lover. He didn't want Bucky to marry you. He wanted you to marry a rich, god fearing catholic man from town. Perhaps the son of the livery stable owner and farrier, maybe even the son of the Union Pacific RailRoad representative in town. Not some drifter with a silver tongue.

“It was truly my pleasure ma’am.” Bucky smiled sweetly at your mom.

Despite Bucky’s statement about taking your hand in marriage at lunch earlier you still couldn't help the internal barrage of guilt your brain waged against your heart. If Bucky was planning to marry you then it wasn't bad, right? You wondered if God could hear your pleas and if he would answer your prayers for clarity. You looked at the walls of your room, dimly lit by lamplight, the crucifix you’d gotten at your communion watching your internal struggle.

Your revelation was a self confession from the heart-To experience love and be loved was a gift, to sin was to be human. Perhaps love was the holiest form of rebellion, something that burned away dogma leaving something raw and utterly human, something to be forgiven with merciful grace.

Chapter 3- Hell Hath No Fury

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