#we are going to make sure this is delivered on time to the right place. I'd sooner die than let an error occur.
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spotsandsocks · 1 day ago
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What's My Flavour ? 8K
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Buck settles down in LA and opens a juice bar across the street from a well established coffee shop called Diaz Brews. The owner is not particularly impressed by either his new neighbor or juice in general.
Juice puns, grumpy Eddie and the inevitable happen.
Buck watches his sister spin in a circle, her brown eyes wide as she takes in the four walls of the shop he’s just bought.
Turning back to face him the smile on her face ignites one on his own and Buck recognises the warm feeling in his chest as love and pride. Maddie closes the distance between them until she’s snug in his arms, her own arms wrapped tightly around his waist and squeezing. Resting his chin on her head he lets his gaze drift. It’s taken a while to find the right place for them but  he has a good feeling about this. It’s the right choice for him, for them. 
“I’m really excited about this, Maddie.” He feels her chuckle against his chest then she leans away to look up at him. 
“Me too Evan. It’s going to be perfect.”
Buck detangles himself from his sister and bounces off to one side of the room. 
“I thought counter here.” His arms gesture wildly then he spins pointing at the wall, “menus up there.” He circles her beaming, “tables and seats this way. Some fridges for the ready made juices once we know what’s gonna be most popular and here.” He stops by a different wall and circles his hands over the floor.
“I thought we could have a kids area, do it up for drawings and maybe do story time sometimes so the parents can relax and stuff.
He blushes at Maddie’s soft smile, “What? You know I love kids.”
She crosses to him and hugs him again. “I know you do and you're just a big kid yourself.” 
She laughs at his put upon sigh, “Come on Mads I’m a responsible business owner now.”
She laughs again and it’s so good to see her happy. He really thinks it’s the best decision they’ve made in the last three years of traveling to come to LA and open a juice bar together. He knows Maddie wants to settle down and he wants whatever makes her happy. He really thinks this could be it. 
A week later the renovations are well under way the juice bar that’s going to be his future taking shape. It’s exciting the only thing he still needs to decide on is a name, he’s been throwing ideas out at Maddie working on his juice puns with variable success.
Right now they’re taking a break, grabbing a coffee from a shop opposite them, he’s brought a list of ideas that he’s been working on because Maddie had discarded his most recent idea ‘Juice do it’ yesterday.
They sit at the table and he flips open his pad. “Sooooo.” 
His sister groans, “Buck, I’m not sure I’m strong enough for more juice puns today. Maybe you should try and think of something different. Maybe just Buckley Juices.”
“Seriously Mads that’s so boring who names their business after themselves, someone with no imagination that’s who. Dull people Maddie. Dull boring people do that and I am not dull!” 
At just that moment their coffees are delivered to their table and his is placed down rather firmly, liquid sloshing up the sides  but not actually spilling over. 
Buck looks up to say thank you to their server despite the clumsy delivery  and finds himself staring into a pair of brown eyes. The guy would be handsome if he wasn’t frowning down at him. Buck's smile drops away. Not particularly friendly service here, he probably won’t come back in a hurry. Coffee’s bad for you anyway, he’s been planning on cutting down. The server turns and leaves without a word. He pushes the handsome stranger from his mind and refocuses.
“How about “The Main Squeeze? Squeeze The Day?” 
He looks at his notes.  “or Perfect- Juice the way you are.” 
keep reading
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talesfromawannabewriter · 14 hours ago
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@things-arent-what-they-seem66
Cain: (snorts) Like I’m supposed to believe the daughter of the first liar.
Charlie: That is it! I am so sick and tired of always being compared to my mom by others! Especially you! You don’t know a damn thing about me.
Cain: Not like your mother? Not like your MOTHER!? YOUR EXACTLY LIKE HER! Mixed in with father’s naive understanding of forgiveness and relationships! That just by clapping your hands, singing a few songs, and saying sorry automatically you can get away with murder! And by that I mean actual murder! You killed my mom!
Charlie: He came back!
Cain: Yeah but not before you killed half of the exorcists and pissed off Heaven just because you were upset!
Charlie: They were killing my people and going to destroy my hotel!
Cain: I can’t believe I’m saying this but you should’ve gone to Dad and told him about it! Or if not him some authority figure in Hell! Of my mother told you beforehand about it, then you should’ve just moved base! You and all your friends wouldn’t have blood on your hands if you had just stayed in your place!
Charlie: 
My place?
Cain: Exactly your place. Staying on the sidelines and not involving yourself in the internal affairs of the sinners.
Charlie: They. Were. Killing. My. PEOPLE!!! I think if you were part of the majority who had to worry about it then you’d understand.
Cain: Mmm, no I wouldn’t because if I die then I die. And by the way even if there was salvation for sinners they wouldn’t take it. Because they are all selfish, self centered, self righteous, idiots who constantly had their chances to be better in life but they blew it! Charlie: Do you even hear yourself right now!
Cain leaned down in Charlie’s face as he growled out his words.
Cain: More often than not. But we are getting off track here. The point is that you are a perfect mix of your parents, but more so your mother. When you didn’t get your way like the spoiled brat you are, you went out and caused trouble. Then by batting your eyes and acting cute to anybody, mainly your daddy, you think you can get out of a situation Scott free. Just. Like. Lilith.
Cain felt a sharp sting as his face turned to the side. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Neither could Charlie. However, she still stood firm albeit shakily.
Charlie: I’m sorry Cain but you were asking for it.
Slowly Cain reeled his head back to look at her and Charlie felt a chill run down her spine as her eyes glowed red.
Cain: 
That is it, I’m going to knock you into NEXT SINSMAS!!!
Charlie didn’t know how, it happened so fast, but the next thing she knew was that she was outside lying on the ground as Cain got on top of her. Thinking quickly she used her fireworks to blind side him as she tried making her getaway. However, Cain recovered quickly and simply grabbed her long legs. Using his legs he wrapped them around her. Making sure she wouldn’t get away this time.
After that the two started exchanging punches as they rolled around on the rough dirt. For a few minutes that’s all they were doing. Until Cain said,
Cain: Don’t forget you ain’t in ya castle anymore princess! You’re in my house now!
Was all he said as he delivered a powerful punch to her eye right as Charlie delivered an equally painful one to his nose. They both screamed as they rushed to let go of the other. Charlie grabbed onto her eye as it was painfully shut closed and started to throb. Cain held his broken nose as it kept gushing out red, near black blood. The only thing that could be heard now was their heavy breathing.
For a few minutes that’s all they did was catch their breath. Until unable to bear the pain anymore collapsed onto the ground. Their breathing slowed, not to an alarming degree but still. They both took to staring at the orange, reddish sky. Not saying a single word to each other until Charlie broke the silence.
Charlie: Why do you hate me Cain? I know it’s not because of my mom or dad.
The eldest Morningstar child took his time for his answer.
Cain: 
I don’t hate you Charlie. I think I just wish sometimes for you to have never been born.
The First Anti-Christ
@things-arent-what-they-seem66
(excuse me for the long prologue)
Anti Christ, the child of the fallen one, the devil. Everyone knows of the name and what it means. However, they don’t know of WHO that child is do they? Everyone thinks that the child will make themselves known as they bring on the end of humanity. What people don’t realize is that the anti-Christ has already walked upon the Earth.
In fact he was the first to be born on the planet. You see he was one of the very first humans. The very first child and son of the mother of humanity, Adam the first omega. His name was Cain.
Now many must be wondering on how this came to be. Why did it happen. How and why did the first omega manage to give birth to the fallen one’s offspring. All will be explained here, in this story.
A long, long, long, time ago when the Earth was still young the creator of it had decided on what its final inhabitants would be. They were called humans, the very first of their kind. He made them into something special. With their names came their designations.
Lilith the first woman and alpha
Adam the first man and omega
He made the two to be companions, to watch over another as one would for a friend or as he hoped like siblings. However, his other creations had other plans. While the Lord was busy attending to his purpose of watching over the universe. The other creations, the angels went down to the humans and they told the two that they were more than just companions. They told them that they were mates and they would bring forth true humanity.
Both were confused and asked how? The angels told them that once a month Adam’s womb would welcome Lilith’s seed and instructed him for when the time came for Adam to lay on his back and to spread his legs for his mate. When they heard of this both were rather disgusted by it. They hadn’t known each other for long but they simply weren’t compatible in that way. They couldn’t even bother to be friends for they both had too many differences that often clashed with each other.
While Adam was energetic and outgoing, Lilith was reserved and careful. It would often cause arguments from the two, especially when it came to their duties. Their first duties, of naming and caring for everything in the garden. Lilith thought Adam to be immature. Adam thought Lilith to be demanding. Both seemed to think that nothing was ever good enough for each person. One thing they both could agree on is that they did not wish to be mates.
Still Adam did not wish to upset the angels and simply bowed his head and nodded submissively. They began to explain other sets of rules that both were to follow. Lilith as the alpha was to always provide and care for her omega. Adam as the omega was to always follow her way and submit to his alpha. Both were to bring children into this world.
Lilith would become the father of humanity. While Adam would become the mother of humanity.
Lilith, disgusted at the thought, disagreed wholeheartedly. She fled from the garden and away from the omega. Hoping to never set another foot in there again. She was found by someone, an angel of the Lord himself, whom she would soon call a friend and sometime after that a husband. Though she didn’t trust him at first she eventually told the angel of why she ran from paradise.
The angel was shocked and confused. Why would his siblings do that? Why would they mess with his Father’s creations that way? He wanted so badly to go up there and tell his Father of what they had done to Lilith. He knew that they would somehow find a way to pin the blame onto him.
That is why he came up with a new plan. To meet and talk to Lilith’s supposed mate. What he didn’t know at the time was that the omega was actually his true mate.
He crept into the garden, careful not to aware the elders of his presence. What awaited him in the garden was not what he expected. A true beauty, one that took his breath away. Though he had thought Lilith to be pretty. She was nothing compared to Adam.
His soft brown hair, honeyed eyes that sparkled, and tan skin that was splattered by freckles. His Lucious curves was enough to drive him insane. The angel managed to open his mouth and introduced himself. His name was Lucifer, the angel of light and God’s most favored son.
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shyamanuensis · 1 day ago
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love your work! any chance for some sad sebastian? you write sad ominis with such grace i'd love a little more drama if possible. xoxoxox
I swear someone is listening in on the conversations @eva-fitzgerald and I have because we literally were talking about this earlier today. A lazy oneshot written in the car as we drive home for Christmas. Enjoy xx
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“So, what do I tell everyone if you don’t come home one night?” “The truth – that I died doing my job.”
The small black box I held in my hands was standard government issue. A ‘goodbye box’ was what most widows of ministry workers called them, however only being engaged, I wasn’t sure the lingo applied in my situation. What was usually delivered by a high-end ministry official, had been brought by instead by his best friend. Waking up to the sound of knocking at my cottage door a little after 3am, Ominis was the last person I expected to be standing there. His choice of words deliberate – tone cold, yet soft as he spoke. As if hearing what he was saying with a more sympathetic, yet straightforward voice would make things easier. However, irrespective of what he saw, experienced and recollected throughout the current ongoing wizarding war; it was obvious that the requirement of delivering bad news never got easier.
“And you think the kids will understand?” “Sweetheart, I’m doing this for them.”
Stumbling back into the house, I left the door open for Ominis to follow through and took a seat on a sofa; balancing the small black box on the tops of my thighs as hands cradled the lid to lift it and peek inside. I could feel my breathing hitch, my skin begin to burn, hot tears fall into the corners of my eyes. I knew however, I had to stay quiet and not wake the sleeping toddlers in their bedrooms. Feeling Ominis hand on my shoulder; gently rubbing as it travelled along onto my back I sighed softly, knowing this day would have to one day come.
“Sebastian you’re being unreasonable.” “No, you just aren’t being supportive.”
The first thing my eyes flickered over in the box was his auror badge; employee number etched into the back as if that’s all he was. Beside this, the trusty broken teal checkerboard wand handle I knew had failed him. There were a few folded pieces of parchment, notes maybe or letters unsent. Beneath them a photo of the children poking out from behind the cover of a leather-bound journal I’d one day bring myself to read. That was what made the first tears fall. In silence. The photograph of the children.
“You know what, I’m sick of this argument. Just... go.” “Promise you, we’ll talk more about it when I get home.”
Closing the lid; I managed to keep it together only barely as I placed the box on the coffee table and picked nervously at my lips. A quick look at Ominis which held vulnerability, naivety and despair without a single word spoken had him responding that he’d stay until the children woke up; knowing that right now, solitude was not what I needed. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed dryly, remembering our last conversation before Sebastian left for work the previous evening. A heated argument: words left unsaid, tensions high as they had been the last few weeks; knowing through whispers, rumours and phone calls what he’d be dealing with and going through.
“
fine.” “I love you.”
I’d never have the chance to turn back time and reply. The image of him leaving home for work one I’d forever have etched into the back of my mind. We’d promised each other we’d never argue before work or before going to bed; but the regret of our last conversation would haunt me now forever. Ominis rubbed my knee gently before whispering that he’d go and check on the kids. And once alone; in the darkness of this house with a fireplace dying out which no longer felt like a home, the cries came crashing down uncontrollably.
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rebelspykatie · 4 hours ago
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The Gift That Keeps on Giving - Part 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Steve’s had enough of the teasing and drags Eddie into the dressing room by his wrist for some privacy, locking Robin and Hopper outside. Laughter reaches his ears but he doesn’t care. Hopper raps his knuckles on the door again and yells ten minutes. It sounds like they shuffle away from the door until all Steve can hear is the low thrum of the baseline again and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. 
As soon as the door closes, he crowds Eddie against it. Even though he hasn’t been on stage yet, Eddie’s glistening with a sheen of sweat that Steve wants to lick off his neck. He angles their bodies together, one hand on the door beside Eddie’s head, the other lightly resting on his hip. 
“Is this okay?” 
“There’s probably some mistletoe lying around here somewhere if you need an excuse.” 
That’s all the permission Steve needs. The distance closes between them and he’s not sure who moves first, but something hot coils in his gut when their lips meet. The culmination of all his feelings over the past few weeks flooding out into all the places they touch. Somehow, it feels different with Eddie already. That first touch feels like a lifetime of longing coming to fruition, despite only knowing each other a few weeks. Such a short amount of time to fall for someone, but he has. 
Electricity zaps from where his fingertips graze that pale skin of Eddie’s abdomen all the way down to his toes. It feels a bit like floating. One swipe of Eddie’s mouth against his and he could take flight. But it’s also anchoring him in place. Eddie is frenetic against him, but it’s like the world around them has stopped, giving them space to work this out before continuing to let the minutes tick by. 
Hands slip around Steve’s body, one fisting into the back of his sweater and the other gliding smoothly over the nape of his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. Steve melts into him, getting impossibly closer and still not close enough. It’s delicious and everything Steve dreamed of, but they don’t have enough time to get into anything more than a few heated kisses. That insistent warning from Hopper still ringing in Steve’s ears. Ten minutes. 
When he pulls away, Eddie’s lips chase him with a soft whine. 
“No, wait- come back,” he paws at Steve’s sweater trying to drag him back in. 
Steve puts his hand over Eddie’s face and pushes back. “You have a show to do.” 
“Who cares about a show?” His smirk turns downright lascivious. “I could get a show right here.”
“There will be plenty of time after the show for more of
whatever this is, right?” He’s hesitant, despite all signs pointing to Eddie being in all the way on this, too. 
“I’ll make time for whatever you want.” 
“I’m being serious, Eddie. You’re a rockstar, and I’m just some guy.”
Eddie jostles him a bit, grabbing onto his shoulders and shaking gently. “You’re way more than just some guy to me, Steve. It’s like I’ve had my own personalized present delivered to me in a dorky Christmas sweater by Santa Claus himself.”
“Hey! My sweater isn’t-”
“It is, and it’s adorable.” He accentuates this point with a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose. “And we have all the time in the world to figure it all out. We don’t have to have all the answers right now, five minutes before I go on stage. But this is the last show of the year, kind of a hometown thing. So, I’m all yours after tonight.” 
“You live in Indy?”
“When we’re not recording or touring, yeah. I told you about my uncle.” Steve nods, remembering that late night conversation about the uncle that adopted him. “He’s my home. Lives about an hour outside of Indy. It’s a good place to hide.” 
“So you’ll be close?” Steve lets himself lean into Eddie again, whose arms wrap around him and hold him tightly against his chest. 
“For as long as you’ll let me be.” 
“Merry Christmas to me, then.” And he kisses Eddie again. Soft and sweet. Perhaps it’s Steve’s turn to get the gift he deserves.
END
Now on AO3
Thanks for reading my loves, merry christmas!
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vladdyissues · 1 day ago
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so i've mentioned before how i think reign storm made vlad want danny's babies and i feel like you might like what i'm getting at when i expand on it because i am drawin' on ALL the lore for that headcanon
so in season 1, we absolutely got the arc that Vlad had a bit more in common with Jack than he wanted to admit (interests, skill, the ability to hyperfocus until the ectofilter makes their house explode), and that he was desperate for people to love him but unwilling to see them clearly enough to actually love them--he would happily sand off any traits incompatible with his vision, before accepting them as-is. he especially wants to sand off all the traits in danny he associates with Jack
if their relationship had changed in s1, it would be badger cereal all the way down for me. you could not get me to romantically ship it again, even with the chemistry, for love nor money. but it didn't
and then we got Reign Storm in S2
where we got to see vlad and danny being their most sincere and straightforward around each other. vlad was sincerely a magnificent bastard and danny was sincerely not putting up with his shit, but they're so much of their authentic selves only around each other. vlad still wants danny to be his son, to be influenced by him... up until the Pariah Dark fight
i am 100% certain he never meant for Danny to win there. he was waiting for Danny to wear Pariah down and pass out where Vlad could take his place in the suit and win, getting the credit AND the kudos for saving Danny. but that's not what happened
Danny, a younger, weaker, still half-mortal being in a suit actively draining him managed to win against Pariah Dark, who was so powerful it took multiple implied gods to seal him away the first time. all without Vlad having a single moment of true, lasting influence on him. and my theory...
is Vlad's ghost instincts saw this, finally saw Phantom as his own unrelated entity, and went "THIS ONE. MAKE BABIES WITH THIS ONE. LOCK HIM DOWN NOW, HE IS GOING TO BE A LEGEND"
(and so we get Dan and Dani in the same season)
and in every episode after, it is clear Maddie takes a backseat to Danny for him. he doesn't even plot the murder of Jack in any real way until the series finale. his focus is 100% on Danny and making his own Danny using the original Danny and/or putting Danny in a submissive/pliant position
i don't think he's consciously aware of any of this. or, if he is, he hates that he's thinking that way about someone nearly thirty years his junior. but i do think there's a hell of a story in half-ghost instincts being misinterpeted between the two halves of themselves and having to adapt to being their own, separate entity from humans OR ghosts
and that is my comprehensive explanation as to why I headcanon Reign Storm made Vlad's metaphorical ovaries start screaming for his attention
OH.
Shit. That's perfect.
Of course Vlad would wait until absolutely necessary to jump in and deliver the coup de grĂące to Pariah. (Let the pawn sacrifice himself, do all the work, King takes credit, etc.) But the pawn... held his own?? The pawn fucking put that thing back where it came from or so help me?? By this time Vlad would surely know how to spot a good investment, and I just know the inside of his head sounded like hitting the jackpot at a Vegas casino when he saw Danny put the smack down.
Is there such a thing as Investments to Lovers? Arranged (Baby) Carriage?
Another thing you're absolutely right about is how Vlad's obsession with Maddie dropped off immediately after Reign Storm. Excepting Phantom Planet, naturally.
I love this meta. It's pure rocket fuel.
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customer expresses anxiety or uncertainty about something they're doing or something to do with my work and I'm immediately like you're adopted. I'm adopting you. Too late. You're under my wing now. I'm going to walk with you every step of the way. You cannot get rid of me. We're going to do this together.
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blkkizzat · 6 months ago
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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜
PART 3
part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series
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⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (IN STOCK!!!)
⋙ product description (summary): choso's finally had enough and if you won't listen to reason he will fuck it into you. but will you still choose him in the end or will he make that choice for you? ⋙ side effects (tw): THE LONG AWAITED BRAT TAMING! rough sex. throat goat!reader. more angst. spanking ass/puss. teasing. edging. lots of delayed pleasure. jealousy. cunnalingus. mirror sex. dom!choso. breeding kink. dirty talk. backshots. fingering. squirting. daddy kink. thigh riding. nuru/thigh fucking. intoxicated reader. drug use (weed). slight voyeurism. yandere choso. baby trapping. mentions of violence (not towards reader). mentions of somnophilia and a lil bit of fluff. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 9.6k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. the long awaited end! i hope you guys like it. i really worked hard on this to make it good <3 special shout outs to my betas @littlemochabunni for literally always talking me off the ledge when i want to ctrl + a+ del everything and @buttercupblu for all the grammar edits my adhd brain struggles with and inspiring me to write the last scene.
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Plug!Choso who ultimately will forgive you but it will be on his terms. He just needed to show you first why the only person you should worry about pleasing was him.
Menacing chuckles rumble deep from Choso’s chest, bewildering you in your crossfaded state. Seizing you with a firm hold, he forces you to meet his gaze. Choso holds you so tightly against him that your feet barely touch the ground.
Any attempts of wriggling out of his hold are in vain.
“You’re such a fucking slut.”
His matter-of-fact statement makes you frown. You’re taken aback by the twisted amusement on his face.
“You don’t love me
 You love my cock.”
“N-No I—”
Your already short skirt now bunches above your hips and Choso brings a heavy hand down onto your exposed bottom. The sting brings fresh tears to your eyes as the gems on your fishnets leave distinct impressions on your soft, malleable skin.
“You’ll have to learn to be quiet while daddy’s talking, princess.”
If you were going to act like a childish brat, Choso would treat you like one.
Another harsh spank startles you into hiccups as you sniff away fallen tears. 
You’d never been spanked before—not by previous lovers or boyfriends—hell not even your parents growing up. 
The last person you’d expect it from was Choso.
And yet each swift lick Choso deals you is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. 
Who knew you would be such a glutton for punishment? 
You fidget, biting your lip in anticipation of another. 
“Been thinkin’ princess—I’ve been too good to you. But you don’t want that, eh?”
A third smack has you whimpering. Your pelvic muscles clench hard, releasing more of the desperation that had already saturated your thighs.
“You want one of those assholes outside, is that right? They’re good enough for you, huh princess?”
You can only mewl in response from the delightful pain that pierces your senses as he delivers another and another.
“S’why every time I fuckin’ come round y’er being a lil’cocktease for some preppy ass frat fuck.”
Choso wasn’t wrong. 
You knew what those boys wanted from you.
Even though you had never really entertained any of them. That was the allure in itself—to be something unattainable. 
Yet more selfishly, you liked the attention. Not like you’d even got the same thrill from it anymore since you were with Choso—but old habits die hard.
Choso was making damn sure of that now.
“Tryna get one of them to fuck you tonight—”
Choso’s cock twitches in sync with your trembles from every spank.
“—or were you hoping I was finally gonna put that pretty princess pussy of yours in her place?” 
You’re smart enough to know Choso’s question is rhetorical and how could it not be given all your actions tonight? 
It was clear you wanted him and his deliciously fat cock back—badly. 
Your tongue cautiously peeks out as you try to quiet your shuddering breaths, afraid that any small movement might provoke his anger. At this point you know better than to beg too, almost certain that any attempts would only fuel the unexpected mean streak Choso had developed.
Yet despite any initial apprehension you were quickly becoming puddy in his hands.
“Poor baby, working so hard having to appease everyone—” 
SMACK!
“—well you ain’t gotta worry that bratty head of yours no more—seeing as you won’t be doing none of that shit from now on.” 
His threats which should have you cussing him out only make you wetter as your heart pounds in your ears from the thrill of being dominated. You’d do anything right now to get a little relief for your aching cunt that had gone a whole goddamn month without Choso’s thick cock plugging her up. 
Restless in arousal, your entire being just begs to be fucked. 
Releasing your hair Choso parts your legs with his knee and you collapse onto him, your plump pussy colliding with his thigh. You whimper, tightly gripping his broad shoulders for leverage to rock yourself against his thigh. 
Choso could feel the intensity of the moist heat radiating from your core dampening his jeans.
“Shit, I can feel you dripping
 pussy drooling just from getting that ass spanked a lil’—are you a masochist, princess?”
Choso breathes the question into your ear, his words bringing a chill over your skin fanning goosebumps all the way down to the nape of your neck.
You’re losing yourself all the more in the hypnotic state of lust swirling from alcohol, weed, pain and arousal clashing within you. 
You nearly choke on the deep guttural moans that had been held in by his hand still around your throat when he grabs your hips forcibly rocking you harder against him. Your paper-thin thong does nothing to protect you  from the rough threadbare material of his jeans grinding against your sensitive lil nub. 
“Wearing these slutty tights with an ass like yours
” 
You almost forget to breathe, the sting this time accompanied by him sliding his fingers between the gaps in the material and grabbing the fat of your ass for emphasis.
“...coulda got me in so much shit tonight if I made ol’boy who was touchin’ up on you swallow teeth.”
The baritone in his voice lowers to a deadly note, tuning every nerve in your body to the exact pitch of his voice.
“P-Please C-Cho I—”
—in an instant the hand on your hip coils around your neck. 
Thumbing your collarbone, Choso slowly applies just enough pressure to activate the euphoric sensation of suffocation, sending tingles down your spine.
“Look at me princess, you better stay quiet—m’not gonna say it again.”
You choke back a cry as the elastic on your fishnets snaps against your tender skin when Choso removes his hand from them.
“But then your lil’card got pulled when you saw me with that whore, hmm?”
You wince preemptively expecting another hard spanking but Choso loosens his grip around your throat. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.
A sniffly frown complements the pitifulness of your runny makeup as you cling to him possessively. 
“Y-Yeah
 I-I hated seeing that d-dumb bitch all over you. Wanted to fuck her up.”
Choso is satisfied with your answer but the warmth behind his smile didn’t match the heated glint in his eyes.
“There it is. See? Bratty princesses who are honest get rewarded—”
Any relief you feel is short lived as your despair returns with the words that follow.
“—eventually.”
Plug!Choso who has you so close to release just from rutting against his brawny thigh. Yet just as you feel the hot coil about to snap in your stomach he pulls away from you. 
Wobbling for stability, your panic that he would leave again subsides when he returns to sit on your bed.
Choso leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees to pack another bowl. The process is second nature to him and his hands move with an instinctual precision, allowing his oppressively dark gaze to remain fixed to you.
“Strip.”
It’s a rather simple command but it causes a small malfunction in your brain nonetheless. 
Your intuition is simultaneously screaming at you to be a ‘good girl’ and listen to Choso so he’d finally fuck you—but also to get the hell away from the menacing man before you were actually fucked.
Choso’s shift in his nature was setting off every internal alarm—although at the same time, you couldn’t say this still didn’t feel like Choso.
Was it really new? 
Or was this side just new to you? 
You’d only ever really known the gentle boyish side of Choso. The side who would blush easily and that was so willing to do anything to please you—the side that was a dutiful and loving brother.
But this other side? 
Well, he was a dealer.
You’d never heard of Choso getting caught out or punked in the streets—not even once. 
You also never knew how he conducted his business, as he always stepped out of the car or left the room. When he took a call while you were with him, all you could hear were faint murmurs of conversation over the rumbling bass of music or through a well-insulated door.
You knew he did his best to keep that side away from you and Yuji, as it wasn’t always pretty. 
Instantly you recalled how once when you had slept over he reluctantly left in the middle of the night late saying he had ‘business’ to take care of. When he came home hours later he looked worn down and even more tired than usual. His knuckles were swollen and there was a rip with small dots of blood on his collar which you would have thought was his own if not for there not being a single scratch on him.
He didn’t speak of what happened and you couldn’t fuss over his appearance for too long—your mind being far from inquisitive while blubbering from his cock drilling your body deep into the mattress. You blissfully became a fleshlight of relief for all his frustrations that night until long after sunrise. 
In fact, Choso had dicked you down so thoroughly when you finally made it out of bed that day it was mid-afternoon. You didn’t even question him about the bruises lingering on his knuckles or whose blood he had on him—still in a daze off his cock.
So this must be how he is in the streets. 
“Go on now, princess.”
The deep silky dominance in his tone commanded your attention, jarring you from your thoughts. You’re pouting, but your body, in spite of your more rational mind, wins as it compels you to obey him, convincing you that anything he has planned for you would be well worth the pleasure that follows. 
Slowly, you begin to lift up your tiny pink top when Choso’s eyes narrow in disapproval, stopping you.
“Nuh-uh see—that shit right there won't cut it.”
You’re puzzled. You did exactly as he asked.
“You didn’t think I saw my lil’ slut playing beer pong and teasing those shitheads with my tiddies? Now do it for me—the same fuckin’ way.”
You’re nodding but your delicate hands are nevertheless shaking under his intense smolder.
Swallowing your anxiety and mimicking your earlier actions, you bent towards him. Your chest is lightly heaving by the time your nails begin to slowly drag the hem of the sparkly top down over your breasts. Choso is blatantly palming his cock when you give the final tug that has your tits bouncing forth from their confines, fully exposed to him.
Choso hums in approval, satisfied with your performance. He motions with a finger for you to come to him and you can’t close the distance fast enough to stand between his legs. 
Molding your hips in his large hands, Choso brings you even closer. Parting his lips the smoke tendrils fan over your stomach while his mouth hovers over your skin. 
Choso looks back up at you and your belly dips, quivering at his dangerously seductive eyes and mischievous grin. 
You were nervous—good.
“Knees.”
Plug!Choso who has you shamelessly panting on your knees before him. Not caring for any decorum at this point you’re openly salivating as hearts practically dance in your eyes over his engorged cock throbbing inside his jeans.
Choso releases a whiny hiss when the air hits his swollen glands. His length sways weighted down as an embarrassing amount of pre drips off his reddened shaft, his boxers already soiled. 
In your right state of mind you might have used this to shift back the power dynamics—yet alas, you are far too gone now. The need for him to give you his praise and approval winning out over any inklings of sass or disobedience. 
Your attention is all but zeroed in on how those milky pearls dribbled over his albert piercing and down the thick vein on the underside of his length.
Seeing how your mouth watered just from the sight of his cock, it’s Choso who proves to be the more impatient one as he grips the back of your head with one hand forcing you closer. In his haste, his dick misses your mouth and skids across your cheek, prompting a low growl of curses from Choso. 
Unconcerned with his impatience, you’re still in your own world—and that world in question was currently being filled with the carnal smell of Choso’s scent marking your skin. A long stain of pre smearing across your face mind shuts down now solely driven by your needy cunt.
“I’ll forgive you when you show me how sorry you are—”
“—anything!” 
Quickly snapping out of your dickmatized daze you look up at him with doe eyes, begging for the go-ahead.
“Yeah? Then do it nasty for me, princess.” 
The words have scarcely left Choso’s lips before you’re already parting your own, releasing a viscous well of drool to pour languidly on his dick.
Your saliva mixing with his spilled essence coats his cock and fills the room with vulgar squelches as you obediently pump his hot length. You rotate your grip with a sinful precision while your other hand thumbs his gooch as you’re cupping his balls, kneading them in a manner that had Choso’s toes curling. 
Giving thanks for the meal you are about to consume, you never break eye contact as you deliver pillowy kisses to his tip and strum your tongue under his frenulum. Choso’s abs twitch feverishly when the sultry hollow of your mouth lewdly hums over his piercing. The sounding effect alone is nearly enough to make him bust right then. 
You aren’t holding up well yourself either as your thighs squeeze together soaking your fishnets which had long been sticky with your overflowing arousal. Manifesting that it soon would be the moist suction of your vacant cunt and not of your spit glossed lips that would take him whole as you continue to moan wantonly around his girth.
The memory alone didn’t do your mouth justice to Choso, not that he still didn’t cum plenty from thinking of your lips slobbering around him in the last month.
Fuck if you didn’t always give some crazy ass head though.
However, he knows he has to keep control lest he loses all the progress he made training that lil’ attitude of yours tonight. 
Weaving his muscular hands through your hair, in one swift motion Choso thrusts his hips forward. He groans loudly from your warm gummy throat now stuffed full with his cock. Gargling his girth you choke when Choso’s piercing scrapes the back of your throat as he forcibly bobs your head up and down.
Thick tears burn your vision with your running mascara flowing right down your full cheeks. But it's nothing compared to the fiery burn in your cunt that’s even more jealous than before of your throat getting the treatment it needs so desperately.
“You’re gonna be my good girl from now on? Yeah baby, I know—I know ya are. Now open that throatpussy a lil wider for me, got sum’ for it.”
Heart fluttering at his filthy praises, you easily let him coerce your face flush to his pubic bone to take him to the very hilt. Your nose is buried in his dark pubic hair and his balls slap your chin at every thrust. The harsh treatment has your tears mingling with his fluids to coat your face and stain his jeans. 
This is how you should be. 
Obedient and pretty while your sobs vibrate around his cock destroying your throat. All you had to do was worry about taking care of him—in turn he would take care of you and the rest.
Shit though, going so long without your bratty little mouth around his dick Choso wasn’t about to last too much longer. 
His blunted nails dig into your scalp as he hunches, curling over your body from the sloppy way he plows even deeper into you. 
“You’re gonna take all of it princess. Every last bit, understood?”
Choso takes your unintelligible gurgles and the hands shoving against his thighs as confirmation. A needy grunt is followed by jets of his creamy load spurting down your esophagus.
Teeming with adrenaline, you gasp for air. Your lungs are on fire from sputtering up his tangy spunk that somehow even trickled into your windpipes. Choso’s fluids dribble down your chin, a show of proof from you having milked his cock so thoroughly. 
But you're not angry with him for the rough treatment—on the contrary. 
Once your coughs subside you’re gazing up at Choso like an innocent lamb and not the nasty throat goat you just proved yourself to be. Praying you have been enough of a good girl for him to finally fuck your lil’ cunt as hard as you needed.
Plug!Choso who rewards you with gentle strokes that smooth your hair back and caress your flushed cheeks stained with his spunk.
Keeping true to his promise of every last bit, Choso thumbs the remaining salty fluids soiling your face back into your mouth, dumping the excess onto your tongue that greedily slurps it down.
Satisfied, Choso straightens and beckons you onto his lap with a pat to his thigh. Smirking at your enthusiasm as you clumsily settle in. 
“Now doesn’t it feel nice
being a good girl for once?”
Choso affectionately twirls your hair in his fingers and you bob your head eagerly. 
Your lips are mere centimeters apart.
You want to kiss him but Choso doesn’t feel like you earned that just yet, balling his fist to tug your locks taunt when you lean in.
“Not yet, baby.”
You stick your lip out, fussing in aroused frustration. 
“Tsk—now, now none of that shit, brats don’t get kisses—and they certainly don’t get this dick.”
If the look in his eyes were any indication you knew Choso meant business. The searing eye contact had long incinerated all the walls you’d built to keep him out, exposing the very essence of you laid bare in the ashes. 
You have no more defenses against him, becoming more obedient to his every word.
Seconds pass that seem like achingly brutal hours until he breaks the staredown. His sights now follow his hands as they splay out trailing from your collarbone to your breasts, letting them weigh heavy in his palms.
His lecherous scrutiny has you shivering.
“You let anyone touch these?”
The question startles you as does the sensation of Choso rolling your stiffened peaks between his knuckles before giving them a cruel tug. 
You sniffle as you shake your head ‘no’, trying not to whine and still unable to speak from him pounding your vocal cords raw. 
Choso grins knowingly as his hands fondle your plush mounds, kneading the supple flesh and pushing them together before the steamy cavern of Choso’s mouth consumes both at once. The bar of his pierced tongue swirled between your hardened buds, lapping, slurping and nibbling. Squirming you arch back deeper into his mouth and grind your soaked lil cunny on his rapidly stiffening length. Your hands cling to his pigtails for any semblance of an anchor keeping you from tumbling backwards. 
Spurred on by your shuddering cries Choso withdraws from your swollen peaks with a pop and licks up the string of spit that cobwebs between them. His tongue flattens licking each one dutifully as he watches as your jaw slacks from pleasure.
You’ve been so deprived of his touch. You could cum from just a bit more of this.
Yet Choso’s lips don’t stop traveling your body, even higher this time to adorn your decolletage with searing hickies. 
Uncaring if they actually showed up to brand your skin or not.
Choso only needs you to feel them bruise beneath your flesh.
That way you wouldn’t so soon forget exactly who you belonged to.
“And what about my bratty lil’ pussy, princess? I know how needy she is. You let one of those frat fuckers inside her?”
His hot heady breaths puff out to curl around your earlobe, leaving the severely neglected spot in between your thighs throbbing at her mention. 
You think you might actually die if he ignores your cunt for much longer. 
Your thong is utterly drenched. More arousal trickles onto his lap as his muscular hands settle back on your hips. 
“N-no!”
Sounding more like a croaked plea, your voice is barely above a whisper from the hoarseness that settled in your throat.
“W-Waited f-for you Cho.” 
“Then show me.”
Plug!Choso who has you even more intoxicated off the thought of him giving you a pussy inspection. 
He has nearly succeeded in domesticating you and your arms wrap around him submissively as you moan unabashedly into his neck. 
Choso muses he should have handled your snobby ass like this sooner and saved himself some trouble. 
Lifting you, Choso rises from the bed. 
You haven’t realized you’ve moved at all until you crash into the edge of your vanity, shaking the table with a thud. Rattled, you look back, giving Choso the leverage he needs to spin you around. Dizzy from the sudden movement, your arms fly out—scattering bottles of makeup and perfume as you grasp at the wooden tabletop. 
The items roll on the floor in tandem with Choso rolling his hips up against you. You release a loud mewl from his hard erection teasingly poking into your ass.
Thinking only with your pussy, your impatient pleas are met with another slap to the ass. The increased weight behind his hand this time leaves your nerve endings sizzling. 
You were gonna be such a sweet girl by the time he was done with you.
However, he wouldn’t torture you for too much longer. 
Despite his cold authoritarian demeanor, the image of shoveling his cock deep into your creamy cunny after so long of only jerking to the memory has him about to lose it. Grasping the front of your hips, Choso jerks you flush against his pelvis. You fall forward until your cheekbone is smooshed into the vanity’s mirror and his thick bulge molding itself in-between your cheeks
“Stay just like that for me, yeah baby? Hands on the mirror, they better not fuckin’ leave either.”
You position your hands obediently and Choso, as if praising you, tenderly gifts lustful kisses down your spine while he pampers your reddening bottom with gentle caresses. 
“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”
The more feral his nature, the more like his prey you became. Choso licentiously inspects your body—gripping, sniffing, and nipping at your heated skin until he is level with your ass. 
You whimper as Choso rips your fishnets ripping them open, admiring the indents on your skin from the jeweled tights before burying his face between your squishy cheeks. 
His nose salaciously nuzzles against the soaked material stuck to your barely covered hole and he releases a hot guttural sigh, purring into your pussy. 
Always a fiend for dining on your cunt, Choso is brimming with contentment from your juices leaking onto his face. This may have been your punishment but it was also his reward as the taste of your filthy lil plum never failed to drive him wild—often opting to spend most of the night with his face between your hips, he’d still cum plenty times from just thrusting into the air as he let you ride his face.
Licking his lips, Choso’s tongues traces the pattern of your thong and sucks your juices from the saturated fabric. You’re both loudly moaning now—Choso from the saccharine flavor of your cunt and you from the sweet relief of the hot languid strokes of his skillful tongue.
Choso might have lost himself in that moment of finally getting to taste you again. His eyes roll back at how you lewdly leak through your soaked thong.
All for him. 
You were still his even after all this time.
However, it's your own hastiness that reminds him your penance is worth more than his own pleasure when your ass wiggles impatiently lowering onto his face when Choso’s tongue piercing starts drawing lazy circles around your sensitive lil pearl.
“C-Cho, n-need you
puh-lease s’not fair—”
Determined to control every sensation he gives to you and holding you in place, Choso scolds you.
“Fair? Nah, know what’s not fair, princess?”
His lips move closer to ghost over your ass causing goosebumps to rise over the warm tender skin.
“You actin like a bitch for a whole fuckin’ month and keeping all this good pussy away from me.”
You shudder when his teeth sink into your jiggly flesh causing you to yelp and rock against the vanity.
You’d get more pleasure when he wanted you to. 
Choso would screw that lesson into you soon enough. 
“Fuck—the only thing sweet about you is this lil’ pussy. You’re such a brat but she's so honest. Then again—maybe it's your slutty lil’ pussy that’s actually the brat, thinking she runs shit because of how good she is at milking cock, yeah?”
Choso confirms his suspicions upon peeling your soaked thong to the side. Strings of your arousal practically glue the material to your cunt. Not hesitating to make more of a mess of you, he illicitly hawks globes of his spit into your already dripping lil’ hole eagerly winking at him.
“Let’s see what this slutty cunt has to say for herself, hm?”
Choso places a chaste kiss over your entrance before driving two fingers straight in. Your hands leave streaks down the mirror as you perspire, fogging up the glass with your breathy cries.
Speeding up his pace he digs the pads of his fingers into your walls, searching until they run over a spongy hard spot and he has to fight to keep a hand on your lower back to hold you in place.
God you were virgin-tight again. 
Before ignoring you, Choso had only ever gone three days without fucking you and even then you’d been crying from his tip just stretching the entrance of your taut lil pussy. 
In the past, Choso would have taken his time with you. He knew he needed to work you open more so you wouldn’t be sore tomorrow, and yet his cock throbbed to life again so urgently he couldn't restrain himself for much longer.
That’d be something you’d just have to fucking deal with. 
This was all your fault after all. 
Plug!Choso who wouldn’t let you deprive him of his pussy for any longer—however, he was still going to make you beg for it.
“Tell me what you want, princess.”
Choso rips the thong clean off your ass cheeks. 
Leaving you exposed bare in your fishnets he rises up to lean over you. His moist breath trickles electricity down your spine as his bricked length roughly pipes between your cheeks. 
“Nghh
w-want your c-cock
”
“Whose cock—so you know me now, princess?—Choso is that it?” 
Choso mocks your voice with the hurtful words you hurled at him during the garden brunch. Gliding his girth to prod over your entrance and miss its mark intentionally. 
“Pleeaseee—C-Choso-C-Choso-C-Choso.” 
The pleas of his name slur together as your attention solely focuses on how his leaky shaft lathers your already dripping folds in his pre. 
“That’s right princess
now tell me who am I to you?”
Choso reaches around to swat at your swollen clit. 
You cry out as your body slick with sweat jolts up violently. Choso has to throw more of his weight onto you to keep you from slipping off the vanity entirely.
You could have actually fallen to the floor without noticing as the fuzzy feeling in your brain intensifies, too much is happening all at once. Your intoxicated thoughts swirl in its attempt to work out the finer details of your relationship with Choso—details you likely wouldn't have been able to answer even while completely sober.
Who was Choso to you?  
Well, frankly, right now he was technically nothing. You had never previously defined your relationship and hadn’t had any communication at all over the last month until just a few days ago.
Your dealer? Friend? Casual hookup? Situationship? 
By and large, it had been your fault that you’d never discussed it. You actively ran from any complicated conversations or pulled away whenever Choso proposed something that would be too close to affirming your status. 
You also knew how much Choso liked you, especially from how he’d blush when other parents in Yuji’s class would mistake the two of you for a couple. 
You weren’t a couple though—even if you acted like you were behind closed doors. 
Even so, you knew how he made you feel when you were with him and knew what you wanted him to be to you now. 
That was enough.
Goddamnit.
Your body threatens to explode from the vulnerability of your exposed emotions pricking at your every nerve while you work up the courage to say it. 
This admission was somehow even harder than confessing you loved him—which had honestly been relatively easy in comparison as you were so upset you would have done anything at that moment to make him stay. 
Face on fire, you clasp your eyes shut—as if not looking at Choso in the mirror means he somehow can’t hear the words that stumble out of you.
“M-My boyfriend!”
Silent tears fall as you fear his reaction, you’ve never been the one to lay your feelings on the line first.
Had you really missed your chance to be with him?
Would he just fuck you and leave after?
Choso remains silent as his hands glide up your sides, feeling you tremble under his touch. He lifts your torso, pulling you to his chest possessively. Choso’s arms encircle you as they weave between your breasts and he licks a stray tear away. 
Now you have the most lewd, yet perfectly unhindered, view of his hefty mushroom tip as it quickly slots through your puffed folds to ram into your clit.
The wide grin on his features is evident as your face crumples and pleasurable sobs rupture from you. Choso rests the side of his face against your neck as he takes in your smell, giving you a chaste kiss and savoring how much his body is scenting yours.
“Oh? You asking me out, princess? Well, I’m flattered you finally asked, but that's not exactly the answer I was looking for—”
A feverish chill spreads across your skin and you’re shivering as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.
“—as it’s certainly not what you will be calling me when I’m pushing your kidneys back.”
Choso’s hands lazily roam your body while he continues to sneak his length through your thighs. You unconsciously arch back to rest your nape on his shoulder, allowing him better access to touch you.
So he wasn’t talking about your relationship status after all?! 
Still the devious smile on Choso’s face tells you he intentionally misled you with his phrasing nonetheless. 
“So—who am I?”
The cocky tone in his voice makes it clear exactly what he wants you to call him—and you’d say it—you just need to work up the nerve first.
Unfortunately for you Choso’s patience for your bratty ass had long since depleted.
“Tch, yo we can stop then if—”
You snapped the moment you felt his hands leave you.
“NO, DADDY!” 
“I’ll be a good girl Daddy
s’good. I-I promise puh-leaseee put it in—please—need you, Daddy!”
There was no way in hell Choso would have left without sticking his dick in you but he knew that you were too hard up right now to even dream of calling his bluff.
“That’s right princess. I’m your Daddy. Now show Daddy that arch baby.”
Plug!Choso who smirks into your skin as he tastes you. The sting from a tiny love bite blossoming as he manhandles you back down onto the table’s surface when your already cockdrunk mind doesn’t have you moving fast enough.
“But you’re still actin’ up a lil baby—so you gonna have to put this dick in yourself, got it?”
Choso hums at your dizzy babbles of confirmation, slipping his thumbs over your chubby pussy lips to spread you open. Choso is in awe of how slutty your cunt looked, clenching around nothing but the webs of your own arousal and practically screaming to be busted open wider by his cock.
Catching his tip on your entrance, Choso stalls as he has to chew the inside of his own cheek to resist not thrusting into you completely—you’d do the rest from here. 
Choso was just glad you weren't looking in the mirror to see how hard his abs were trembling. 
Exhaling shaky breaths, you ease back onto him, gingerly sinking down his length. Your kitten nails fitfully scratch at the table just from the stretch of just getting his wide mushroom tip inside. 
SHIIIIT-SHIIIT-SHIIIT—Too much! 
You grit your teeth, he’s so big stretching the walls of your cunt to the degree that your walls actually try to push him out when you flex. However, Choso’s hands are digging into your hips to secure you in place. He’s not helping nor hindering you—but he isn’t letting you run any either.
Your knees knock against the vanity, trembling this much and he's only halfway in. 
“Come on, princess
”
Choso coos gently as he rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumbs, coaxing you to relax. 
The dichotomy between Choso’s treatment erratically switching in severity leaves you reeling. You're on edge with heightened arousal, never sure if his next words or touch would be rough or soothing yet either way it leaves you wanting more of him—anything he’d give, you’d take. 
But right now you need him to have a lil mercy on you. 
Tears brim your wide eyes as you pout and look at him through the mirror, pleading with him.
“Puh-leaseeee Cho—m’daddy
help me?”
Your pitiful submission has Choso cracking. His need to ruin you after so long winning over his want to delay your pleasure along with everything else.
Sighing, Choso relents.
“You know, I spoil you too much, princess
s’why you’re so rotten now.”
No sooner had he finished speaking did he hastily slam into you. Your wet warmth completely sucks him in whole and wraps around him so sinfully he has to dig his blunted nails deeper into your hips to keep from immediately painting your walls white.
God, he really was so incredibly weak for your perfect lil’ pussy.
Grunting, Choso sets an unrelenting tempo as he continues to rail into your cervix, each bruising thrust was him reminding you of every time you ignored him—pretended you didn’t know him—told people you were just friends—and for making him even love someone as mean and bratty as you in the first place.
Grabbing onto the clothing bunched at your waist for leverage, Choso pistoning his hard length in and out of you felt like he was ripping your guts out along with it. 
Gathering together a coherent thought right now was impossible. It’s so good but so intense your body reflexively reaches a hand back, frantically pressing against his abs to slow him.
Choso growls, stilling your hand behind your back while his other springs out to pin your head on the table. 
You were blocking his view of how your ass rippled every time he pounds his cock deeper into your cunt.
He just needed you to be good and take it. 
And take it you did.
Choso fucks you so hard your vanity table creaks and repeatedly slams into your wall causing the entire room to shake. Your mind goes blank as if his cock controls the very flow of blood in your body. Surging tingling sensations electrifying your veins when the curve of his length knocks his albert piercing so aggressively against your cervix. 
Your gooey walls build up so much pressure around his thickness that white spots edge your vision so very close to your nirvana.
“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so my slutty lil’ princess—hold that shit for daddy.”
But there was no way you couldn’t and just as you are at the very edge of your bliss Choso rips it away from you, halting once again to still inside of you.
“Mmmm no please-please-puhleeease let me cum Choso! Please fuck me right Daddy!” 
Plug!Choso, who as much as he wants to edge you past your limits, really pulled out because he also needs to calm down. Choso removes his shirt overhead as the heat in the room has skyrocketed to near sweltering. 
Even unmoving inside you, your pussy still flexes around him like crazy. You weren’t on birth control so he never came inside you, not even once before. Pulling out normally to release over your stomach, ass or tits and wearing a condom on days it wasn't as safe. 
Although he desperately wants to cum inside you, to really mark you as his, could he risk it? 
It would be so stupid and so irresponsible, going far beyond any punishment. 
You still had a year of school left.
He couldn't knock you up. 
Then again you didn't need to go to classes physically—you could take them online. 
Pushing his more debased and wicked thoughts aside, ultimately Choso reigns himself in. He didn’t even want to put you in that position. He’d support you regardless, but he’d admittedly die inside if you decided not to have his child. 
“S-Shit! C-Cho the door!” 
Seeing the sliver of hallway light cast into your dimly lit room, you realize now that you must have forgotten to lock it. This was an old house and your door had the habit of coming open easily from just some minor movement in your room if left unlocked. 
Choso fucking you like he hated you was surely enough to knock it loose.  
Unfortunately for you though, Choso didn’t give a fuck. 
Abruptly snapped out of his perverse breeding fantasies, Choso’s feral eyes, tinged red from his high meet your frantic ones in the mirror.
“No.”
The renewed vigor of his cock plowing through you again strangles any protests, gagging you on them as you feel him back in your throat from the intensity. 
“Nah princess, let them all hear how hard you sob on this loser’s cock while he fucks some manners into you.”
And sob you did. It was difficult to do anything else really as him moving inside you again had your body buzzing more than from your actual high. 
“It doesn’t matter, cause I am about to fuck you so hard even the walls downstairs start shaking—”
Choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit when he kicks his thrusts up a notch and hitches your leg up on the vanity. 
“—n’when they discover us there’s no way they will even want a cockdrunk brat who lets her ‘weirdo burnout stalker’ get her high and fuck her stupid as a president.”
Your mind, clearly ruined by his dick thinks that might not actually be so bad. 
“Shit, you tightened up baby, you actually want someone to find us? See how good I slut you out, yeah?”
Honestly, the harder he thrusted inside you the less you cared—about anything.
School. 
The sorority. 
Your presidency. 
None of it made you feel anywhere near as fulfilled as you were right now with Choso’s thick girth ripping through you. 
The walls quake even more violently. 
The soggy clicking sounds from your soaked cunt almost reach the volume of your crazed screams for him to fuck you even harder. 
Choso was so fucking close again, he was beginning to lose reason.
“F-Fuck it—should I cum in you, princess? I’ll even let you cum too this time.”
Your brain on a mission to cum, fucked so smooth by his fat cock, could care less as long as you got to cum too. 
Oh fuck, just a lil more and you would—
“—PREZ! Did you get the goods or not? We wanna start roll—”
On her phone texting, Brianna—who is pretty fucked up herself—did not even register that the sex noises came from your room. Thinking Choso had left already and sure you were up here salty about her ‘stealing him away’. 
All the color drains from Brianna’s face as she drops her phone as well as her red solo cup filled with spiked seltzer, splashing on her outfit as well as the floor. 
Through the mirror's reflection, she can see the pleasurable agony painted all over your face from getting your cheeks clapped into oblivion by the obvious third leg Choso was packing. Your eyes to the ceiling, heaving out wails as your tongue hangs out of your mouth waging with every thrust Choso carves into your guts. The clicking sound of his cock stirring up your tight lil’ pussy echoes throughout your room. 
“OH MY GAWD! So it was true? You’re actually fucking him??? OHMYGAWDOGMYGAWD they aren’t going to believe this!”
Cockdrunk and stupified you couldn’t give even a piece of a fuck. Honestly, you wouldn't have even noticed her if Choso didn’t stop again. 
No, No, No. You were so sick of being edged! Not after he finally was going to let you cum. 
This can’t be happening right now.
You couldn’t take it anymore. 
You needed to cum so bad. 
Your vision is blurry with moisture caught in your lashes as you push yourself up. Grasping onto the edge of the tabletop you used it as leverage to weakly fuck yourself back onto him, doing the work this time if he wouldn’t.
You wouldn’t let Brianna’s ass of all people prevent you from having the orgasm you’ve been fiending over a fucking month for.  
“I jushh w-wanna cum! Pleasssh, wanna-cum-wanna-cum
”
You chant out shamelessly. Your desperate whines stunning both Choso and Brianna. 
Candidly, both thought you'd be horrified enough to stop. 
Choso especially, as even after everything tonight wouldn’t have been shocked if the mortification of actually being caught had you kicking him out.
“Heh.”
Are you actually choosing him for once?
Choso wasn’t going to let the moment pass without finding out—that’s for fuckin’ sure.
The smack he delivers to your cheeks grab your attention as you bellow out more cries. You’re still pathetically trying to get off with your weakened thrusts back. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off—but better than the burning that threatens to incinerate you whole if you stopped.
“Hey Princess, I’ll let you cum just lemme know something first, yeah?”
You nod your head longingly, dizzy with need.
“Tell this bitch whose dick is this?”
For the first time that night, you answered without missing a beat.
“M-Mine m’daddy, its m-mine!”
You pant breathlessly, still trying to rock yourself back on him but you aren't quite hitting the spot. 
Your eyes lock with Brianna’s through the mirror’s reflection yet you are looking straight through her—your eyes vacant as you could only think of Choso’s cock. 
Your cock.
“Nah don’t look at that bitch, look at me princess.”
Not hesitating, your eyes snap over to him.
“Good fucking girl—and whose pussy is this?” 
“You–YOU CHOSO! Please Daddy—please it's s’good, I need it! Please fuck me Daddy!”
Choso turns to Briana who is frozen in place—her eyes are wider than saucers—as she realizes she’s lost.
Reaching over you he grabs an ounce bag and tosses it near her hitting the floor by her feet. Brianna hesitates though, causing Choso to growl impatiently. 
He’d proved his point, now he wanted this bitch gone.
“Yo Gouda—you a voyeur or somethin’?”
Brianna jumps when Choso addresses her quickly shaking her head ‘no’. 
“Then get the fuck up outta here bitch—MOVE!”
In her haste, Brianna slips on the spilled alcohol as she scrambles to quickly snatch up the weed and her alcohol-soaked phone. The door slams shut as she scurries out the door.
Plug!Choso who has lost all desire to punish you. He only wants to be able to see your face twist in pleasure when he finally lets you have your sweet euphoric release.
In a flash, he’s moving you again. Choso swoops you up and tosses you onto the bed, hurriedly making sure the door is locked this time before kicking off his pants and crawling on top of you. 
“Shhhh princess, you did so good baby, m’gonna let you cum. Gonna have you creaming so hard on this cock, s’your cock baby—you earned it.”
Choso is slurring his words as he peppers your body with blood buzzing kisses to hush your anguished whimpers while he peels the remaining clothes off your body. Not being sheathed inside you is killing him just as much, yet he longs to touch your silky skin unimpeded against his own.
“Been taking me s’gud baby, c’mere
”
The both of you now bare, Choso wastes no time plunging back into your heated core, your heels digging into his back at the intensity. 
Damn—you’re so perfect.  
Allowing himself to let go, his mind shatters as Choso melts into your gooey lil’ cunny. 
His lips are desperate to find yours and Choso is no longer able to withhold himself from sinking into a pussydrunk state. Uncaring for any more displays of dominance, the kiss you share is hurried and sloppy causing your thoughts to splinter. 
Your mind fragments into increasingly smaller pieces of incoherency the more frantic Choso’s kiss becomes. His teeth clash with yours and graze over your swollen lips, unable to control himself as he fitfully bruises your clit from the blunt thrusts of his pelvic bone.
Tears glaze your eyes blinding you from the creamy stickiness at Choso’s hilt that splash between your bodies. The musky fluids flow all over your puffed lil’ pussy to drizzle past his aching balls to puddle on your sheets.
“L-Live with me—with me n’ Yuji—FUHHCKKpussysogood—y-you ain’t gotta be here anymore, princess.”
Choso’s forehead rests against yours and his dick twitches inside of you like crazy from the ridges of his thick engorged cock scraping against every nerve in your cunt.
“Be with us, baby. Be our family. I-I–SHIIIIIT—I love you so-much-so-much.”
All of his bravado strips away and there’s just the soft Choso you knew once again. The one who would do anything for you, the one who made your stomach flip and your heart stop—you didn’t want to go through life anymore without him in yours.
“Y-Yes! I wanna—ah fuhhhh—s’gud l-love you D-Daddy!”
Overwhelmed with emotion for you and knowing he would come soon, Choso reaches a shaky hand between you to roughly smash his palm into your sensitive lil’ bud. The soaked slick from your bodies causes his movements to jerk erratically and your hips involuntarily thrash against him.
Choso screws his eyes shut, your bodies so wet he nearly slips off of you in his single-minded focus to make you cum. He has to be ready to pull out of you as soon as you do or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting all of his cum in you—yet that’s exactly what your fucked out lil’ pussy wants. 
“C-Cum—cum in me Daddy
”
Your voice is barely above a whisper as you almost fade out of consciousness from the sublime shockwaves that erupt over your body as you are nearly at the peak of your climax.
Choso’s hips falter, almost in a more fucked out condition than you. He nearly dumped his entire load into you then but his last sliver of sanity held out.
“SHIIIIIT—P-Princess—Do ya even know what y’er s-saying to me right now?” 
Time slows, your hand cups his face staring with conviction as best you could into his dark aubergine eyes as your other weakly directs the palm pressing on your clit to rest on your belly.  
“Cum in me Choso—I-I wouldn’t mind having a baby if it's yours.” 
Oh fuck
 
And with that your knees were by your ears and your ankles dangle off his shoulders. 
Sure, you were intoxicated on many substances—his dick included and as much as you may have just been talking shit at this moment Choso doesn’t care anymore.
You’d told him you’d have his baby and it’s all his pussydrunk mind can process.
Like a puppy Choso whimpers his groans keen sharply out of him as his tongue dangles to drip slobber down your neck. He’s reverting back to the sloppy whiny mess you know him to be when hes fucked himself out from treating your drooling hole like a well-loved pocket pussy.
“MHMMM FUCK!”
The knot inside you twists impossibly tighter, straining your nerves until it finally snaps sending shockwaves through you. You lose yourself in nonsensical cries as your worn battered body convulses uncontrollably, creaming around his cock. 
If your brain hadn’t shut down at this very moment—only filled with the white noise of your searing orgasm—you might be worried Choso just broke your bed. The creaking fills the room as the sound of metal bending is apparent although neither of you are concerned.
“—s’gonna be OK, mmm-FUCK—m’gonna take care of you, love you—we’ll be a real family then, you, me, yuji—n’our baby!”
You don’t even hear him as you’re on autopilot now. The red streaks your kitten nails scratch across his muscular shoulders urge him on like the squelching sounds of your squirt gushing out of you and wet smacks of his balls colliding with your ass.
Overstimulating your senses, Choso sweeps you up into another all consuming kiss. The mind-numbing aftershocks of your blissful tremors leaves your tongue limp as his mouth hungrily devours yours. When Choso finally releases, his hot seed pumps into your tummy as his body writhes on top of yours. 
The mind numbing aftershock of your euphoric release continues as Choso proceed to fuck more and more of his thick ropes of his cum into you. He doesn’t show signs of slowing down but your body on the other hand fades, giving into the comforting gratification of sleep after having your guts rearranged. 
“O-one more time, p-princess—pleaseeee.”
Your thankful at that moment you’ve previously told Choso you didn’t mind somnophilia and gave him the free use pass to fuck you while you slept. You rarely actually could even stay asleep with how hard he would end up railing you but there was a first time for everything with your cunt finally content and full after so long your exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber. 
Plug!Choso who tightly cuddles you to him as you both sleep. The two of you twisted up like a pretzel in a mess of limbs with you practically smashed between Choso and the wall. 
Your XL twin bed clearly wasn't meant to comfortably fit two people like this. 
You’re still mostly asleep though, softly groaning as the cheery morning sun pierces through your thin curtains. You move to throw a pillow over your face only to discover you cannot budge. 
However, you can't say you weren’t used to waking up like this. Choso was always a hardcore cuddler. You missed the mornings you’d wake overheated and skin to skin. Your legs would find themselves intertwined just like this. 
Somehow, Choso would always find a way to fuse the both of your bodies together where every part of him was touching some piece of you.
Typical

The sleepy thought drifts through your brain, sensing it's still far too early for you to wake up. Wanting to drift back to sleep you burrow your face deeper into his chest, stiffening when your mind does the very opposite and wakes up enough to recall the events of the previous night.
Sobering quickly in the daylight, a sinking feeling begins to suffocate your heart. The now familiar guilt you’ve accumulated over the past month amplifies the hangover etching itself behind your eyes. 
You can’t help but panic as the memories from the night before come rushing back. 
There was still so much uncertainty. 
Having been utterly humbled for the first time in your life you can’t stop the self doubt that questions if he’d even meant everything he said last night—you were both lit as hell. 
You’d meant it though.
Your heart seizes at the thought that this might be the last time you’d wake up in his arms. Before you know it you are crying again trembling as you try not to wake Choso up with your silent tears.
You are quiet enough but Choso is also a light sleeper and stirs awake at the small fit you’re having.
“H-Hey, morning princess *yawns*—wait, what's wrong?”
His tired eyes are full of loving concern as Choso cups your face wiping away your tears before bringing you into his chest, tightening his hand on your head.
“Shit, was I too rough on you last night princess? Fuck, I know how much all this shit means to you I—”
You interrupt Choso, you can’t let him beat himself up over you any longer.
“N-No, Cho—”
Sniffling, you break away from his hold just enough to maneuver yourself to meet his tired eyes. 
You mentally kick yourself—you hated being such a crybaby now but you couldn't help it. You were left feeling so vulnerable after being stripped of all pretenses the night beforeïżœïżœit all just started pouring out of you— 
“—d-did you mean it? W-What you said? Cause I—I meant what I said. I-I wanna be with you and Yuji. C-Cook breakfast and f-fall asleep watching movies and go to all his games with you—I’ll never miss another game and—and—”
“Bet.”
Wait
huh?
Even after last night you half-still expect him to be upset with you, you’d still expected you’d have to beg. 
You’re left speechless.
“Bet. Let’s pack up your shit then, princess.”
Choso’s bright grin is near blinding to your weary gaze. 
“I meant everything I said, I could never lie to you.”
Giving you a tender kiss on your forehead, he forces you to look him in the eyes. Choso takes in all your looks of uncertainty before melting them away, softly cooing affirmations with his lips fluttering over yours. You’re so needy for his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him even closer.
Not being able to resist your body’s calls for him, you soon find yourself underneath Choso who rubs his morning wood against your core still soaked with his essence from the night before.
Choso smirks down at you, the cockiness back in his voice.
“What I say before? You’re my family—Fuck those bitches and fuck your parents—I got you.”
Plug!Choso, who doesn’t know what time it is but knows he has to go pick up Yuji from his friends soon. He also doesn’t know if he should expect your nosy ass sorority sisters to barge in again. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sinking into your sopping heat once more, never taking his lips off of you. 
Unlike the fervor of last night, his strokes are slow. The anger and intensity are gone, but the passion still remains simmering under your skin. Choso is savoring every bit of you as he devours your mewls, drinking them down along with any lingering unsureties. 
But, fuck—he doesn't feel like he’ll be able to keep himself from cumming inside you from now on. Not when you’d be living with him and Yuji, acting all domestic like. 
Images of a would-be future with you swirl in his mind—you pregnant, giggling at Yuji when he jumps in surprise from feeling the baby kick—your belly growing so large you had to cradle a hand underneath when you adorably waddled from room-to-room—the day of delivery when you both finally get to meet the child you cr—
—MUTHRFUUUUH!
Choso’s eyes roll towards the ceiling as he whines loudly, his whole body is shivering along with his premature release. Buckets of his viscous seed slosh in your womb with every sloppy stutter of his hips, pushing the mass overflow of his cum out of your swollen hole and down the crack of your ass.
Fucking you through his overstimulation, your cries only fuel his intent to impregnate you. The want for the sensual intimacy that slow fucking brings after a reconciliation being overtaken by the intense primal urge to put a baby in your belly.
There was no need for any additional vocalizations of affection when Choso is so adamantly reciprocating your feelings, his creamy cum filling you with promises of his devotion which he fucks even deeper into your womb. 
You aren’t able to recall the last time you felt this satisfied. Working so hard to meet everyone else’s standards was exhausting and you didn’t regret your choice.
You had no plans now other than being with Choso. 
And contrary to the dread of what you had previously thought deviating off course would be like—it frees you. You love and trust Choso enough to let go of all of it and just let life take you where it would.
You’d be content as long as you have him and Yuji. 
Choso knows this yet even so, he is still on a mission to add a fourth to your new little family sooner rather than later. 
He knew you were speaking of the future when you said you’d have his kid the night before but—why delay the inevitable? 
Choso needed to fill you up at least 2 more times before he’d let you leave this bed—no matter how many of your sorority sisters would walk in—they could watch for all he cares.
Yeah at this rate you’d definitely be pregnant by the start of school next year.
Shit, he’d have to go buy a ring soon.
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⋙ how was that? holy hell i think this is the longest fic i've written lol. i wanted to take my time with this because although brat taming isn't hard i still wanted to capture the essence of choso. he can be mean enough to do it he's definitely going to internally struggle a bit and be our whiny feral lil baby gworl at the end lol.
taglist will be in a reblog in the morning. needed to get this out and then go to bed. i might also edit it a bit as well. as some of it wasn't proofed.
reblogs and comments so appreciated, i wanna know what u think, send me asks too!
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tossawary · 1 year ago
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One of my personal nitpicks for historical fantasy is a lack of servants, staff, subordinates, and... idk... subjects? Like, their absence is not... a total dealbreaker for me, depending on the situations the characters are in and whether or not I can just assume that other people are there in the background... but so many of the protagonists in historical fantasy stuff are higher-ranking (very often royalty), and/or have busy jobs, and/or have enormous houses that would necessitate having at least part-time staff.
Like, girl, you should have a maid! WHERE is your chaperone?! WHO is driving this carriage?! Where are your footmen? Are you trying to imply that a WEALTHY DUCHESS is taking a CAB?! You know that you probably have tenants, right? Where is your steward?! Where is your lawyer? Your accountant?! (Like, yeah, you're not going to have your lawyer living in your house, but you HAVE one, right???)
Or, man, you're supposed to be a military commander and you don't even have a single secretary?! Where is your SQUIRE?! (In the spirit of historical fiction, I am jumping wildly across time periods with every sentence here.) Man, I know you aren't looking after your own boots. Where are your GUARDS?! Who set up this tent for you?! Who is looking after your horse?! Who is making and carrying the incredibly valuable maps people are recklessly stabbing daggers into?!
SOMEONE has to be scrubbing these floors and delivering the mail and cooking the meals and doing laundry, and they're probably all DIFFERENT people! My dentist has at least three different receptionists and we can't even get ONE for our court wizard here? A sorcerer's apprentice to take notes? Someone like Sherlock Holmes could get away with just having a housekeeper and taking taxis, sure, but your character is supposed to be a KING?! Why is he answering his own front door? He's going to get assassinated. His SERVANTS should have SERVANTS.
Like, yes, I understand that a lot of servants in certain places at certain times were supposed to make their labor invisible, but there have always been servants who still had to interact directly with the masters of the house?! Yeah, there are potentially really messy ethics here, class divisions are bullshit, but I don't think that completely ignoring the reality that humans have ALWAYS been doing work for other humans is better than just including some well-paid and well-treated servants and employees? Because a complete absence of them, especially where logically for the worldbuilding there MUST be servants (and probably exploited servants, or worse, for some particular worldbuilds to work), often makes me think that your main characters just don't care enough to notice the "lower class" people or know their names.
Also, even Frodo Baggins had a gardener and Samwise Gamgee might be the best damn character in the story?! Sam saved the world?! Servants are PEOPLE. Servants are often the funniest and most interesting characters, tbh, with the most to say about a society and its workings (yes, Discworld is a very good book series, highly recommend), and also the joke of some romantic scene being carefully orchestrated by a stage crew of servants frantically diving into bushes to stay out of sight never gets old to me. Teamwork makes the dream work!
I don't want to gatekeep historical fiction, especially not historical fantasy, because the worlds don't necessarily have to conform to our own and may have magic and characters are often in very unique circumstances, but... sometimes I pick up a story and it's like... "Author, please tell me that you know there is a difference between a butler and a valet?!"
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joonie-beanie · 8 months ago
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A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]
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Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"
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Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.
The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well
except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little
strange.
Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.
And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.
The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.
“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame
this sucks.”
Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 
Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.
Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.
The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress
only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.
“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.
Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 
When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.
He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.
“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”
“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 
Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but
you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.
“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”
“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.
“There’s been
a little change in your schedule.”
You cock an eyebrow at him.
“What kind of change?”
Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.
Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.
“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”


Huh?
“Here.”
Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.
Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.
“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.
Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.
“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”
You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.
“...did he consent to this?”
Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.
“Not yet, but he will.”
The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.
“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little
stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”
“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.
“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.
“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”
Wriothesley sighs.
“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”
You grin, holding your head high.
Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.
“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”
You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.
“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”
Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 
Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.
“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.
Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.
Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 
“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.
“Iudex Neuvillette, he
”
She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.
“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”
“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 
“Take this when you go in, that should help.”
“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.
You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.
Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.
Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite
untidy, at the moment. 
Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.
Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks
strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?
“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”
Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.
“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”
“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”
Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.
“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”
For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.
Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.
“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 
“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.
Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.
“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”
“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”
Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy

“I will admit I have been a little
scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”
“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”
Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.
“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”
Alright then, time to break out the big guns.
“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”
The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.
“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”
Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.
“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”
Both men look your way. You smile.
“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”
Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.
“Good! Glad that’s settled.”
With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.
“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.
You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.
“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other
?” he asks.
Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become
fond of each other.”
Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.
“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”
“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.
“Now, what can I assist you with?”
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While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.
He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 
Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.
While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.
By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.
“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”
“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.
So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.
Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.
“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”
“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”
“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy
liquids.”
How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?
Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.
Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.
“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”
“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”
You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—
“I'll have to keep that in mind.”
—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.
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In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.
It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).
However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.
When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.
“You may go home for the day.”
You blink, looking around for the time.
“...will you continue working?”
“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”
You suppose he’s right
there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.
“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.
“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”
“9am will be fine.”
“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”
“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.
His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.
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The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.
“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”
And really, who would pass up that offer?
So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.
Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.
“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”
“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 
“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.
“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”
He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.
“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 
“Nonetheless, thank you.”
With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.
You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.
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As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 
From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.
And he seems to be
for the most part.
Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.
Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick
although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.
You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which
also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).
By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.
Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 
He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.
However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.
“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 
“Is it possible that you’re sick?”
Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but
after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.
“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.
After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.
A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

huh.
Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.
He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just
reads. For a while.
You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.
Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.
You jump to your feet.
“Neuvillette—?!”
“Leave.”
There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.
“What—”
You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.
“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.
Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?
Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.
“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.
“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”
Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but
seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.
Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.
“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.
He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.
Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent

A scent that he wants to chase after.
He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.
Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.
As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.
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On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 
You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.
It had all just felt so
out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.
So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.
You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.
As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.
In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.
Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.
You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before

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

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.
Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 
So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.
A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.
In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.
“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.
Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.
Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.
And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.
A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 
You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.
Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.
Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 
“I told you not to return here.”
The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.
He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also
frightening. 
You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but
you’ve never seen him act like this.
“I
was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 
“I sent you away for a reason.”
His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 
His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 
However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.
The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.
“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.
“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.
You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.
“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur
?”
“Me,” he responds.
His words send electricity up your spine.
“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.
“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my
constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”
He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.
“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”
A rut.
The word hits you like a train.
“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”
He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so
improper towards you. But now he gets it.
His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.
Diligent, kind, and pretty
those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.
“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back
”
The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.
“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.
“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”
Run.
Run.
Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 
His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.
All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.
You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 
Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.
But
based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 
In fact, it will probably be painful.
Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.
You’re scared, but—
Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 
You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.
Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.
“Why didn’t you leave, you—”
His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.
He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.
“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.
Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.
“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 
The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.
“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 
“This is wrong of me
”
The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.
A quiet laugh leaves you.
“Wriothesley and I
we already do this kind of thing together. So
if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”
Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.
And, of course, it does.
He takes a deep breath—
“Thank you—”
—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.
The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.
The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.
He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.
His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.
Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 
Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.
However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.
He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.
He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.
He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—
Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.
You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.
Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.
In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.
The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.
He pries your legs apart. 
You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.
His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.
As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.
His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.
But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.
No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.
The first taste of his meal.
You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.
He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.
And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.
His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.
You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.
“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.
You've never felt anything akin to this before.
“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.
His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 
He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.
Then, his tongue starts to move.
He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.
He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.
He can't stop. 
He bullies your g-spot incessantly.
You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 
You can't control yourself.
The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you

“Monsieur
Neuvillette, I—”
Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.
Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 
Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.
And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 
The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.
The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.
“Neuvillette, you're—”
“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 
“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.
Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 
Finally, you're bare beneath him. 
He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.
Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.
“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”
And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 
The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 
Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 
He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.
Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 
You trust that he won't hurt you.
“Ah—!” 
He slips a second finger inside of you.
Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.
It's all so much. 
“Neuvillette—”
You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 
Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.
He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—
Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.
Instantly, you lose it.
A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—
“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”
“Cum.” 
He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.
“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.
You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.
Then, he finally relents.
Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 
Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers

You’re ready.
Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.
You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.
Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.
Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.
Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how
substantial it is. 
He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—
Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

oh.
You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open

Speaking of—
“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.
“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 
He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.
Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 
It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.
As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.
“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 
Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.
Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.
Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.
“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 
“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 
Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.
Drunk with desire, he actually growls.
“I—”
I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—
“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 
His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.
“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”
His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.
Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.
“That's it, good girl
just a bit more.”
Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin
you want nothing more than to please him.
Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 
Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.
You’ve never felt so full.
Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 

then, he begins to move his hips.
You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 
The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.
The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.
Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.
The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 
Ah
you’re going insane.
A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 
“Ahh
”
The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.
Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.
Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.
And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.
He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 
Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 
You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 
He’s getting close.
And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.
Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.
Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.
“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 
“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.
It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.
With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.
His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.
For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 
You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.
“You did so well,” he tells you. 
Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 
The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.
“I take it you feel a bit better now?”
“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 
“However
”
He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 
With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.
“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”
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When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.
Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 
He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to
catch up.
Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)
As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.
Pushing the door open, he heads inside.
“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 
The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.
“Come in.”
“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.
Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but
when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.
“Y/N?”
Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.
“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 
It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 
Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 
He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.
Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.
The office sits in silence for a moment. 
“She is
unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”
Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.
“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”
His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.
“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”
“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.
“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”
“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.
Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.
Both men smile.
“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”
“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”
“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.
“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but
I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”
Wriothesley hums.
“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit
possessive
she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”
Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”
“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well
I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.
“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”
Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 
Understanding passes between them.
“Hmm
I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”
Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.
“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”
Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.
“I shall hope for the same.”
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nicholasgoodgirl · 3 months ago
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that was mean- nicholas
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summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.
warning: argument, crying, happy ending
a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out
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from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.
we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.
he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed
when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend
i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.
to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.
--
i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.
it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed
i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.
me: how's your day going so far?? :)
and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply
it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?
i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.
spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought
i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.
i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.
i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.
i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.
--
a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.
i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.
i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.
thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"
"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza
"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.
"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.
"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face
and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything
i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.
my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment
"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.
he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.
"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.
the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.
i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."
"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds
the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.
i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.
my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.
my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap
i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.
i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.
"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.
a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza
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fastandcarlos · 2 months ago
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Unexpected Pregnancy : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: your heart sinks as the positive sign appears, terrified to tell charles your unexpected news
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Everything felt as if it was crashing down around as your eyes landed on the positive mark in front of you. Immediately your mind thought of Charles, your stomach dropping as reality very quickly set in for you. 
A baby was the last thing that the two of you needed with how busy you were. Most weeks you were barely in the same country, your careers were in two completely different spots, and how you were ever going to be able to come together and raise a child was a question you couldn’t even begin to answer. 
You couldn’t help but worry about how Charles would react, terrified of what might come your way. Your heart raced as you heard him walking through the apartment, knowing you were about to deliver either the best news of his life, or the worst news. 
A gentle knock at the door pulled you away from your thoughts, Charles calling through to see if you were alright. He didn’t know what was going on, but as time continued to pass, he couldn’t help but worry that something was going on with you. 
“I’m just coming,” you sighed, placing the test into your back pocket before walking out, taking a hold of Charles’ hand and leading him over to the sofa. 
“What’s going on? What’s with the rush love?” Charles questioned, barely able to keep up with you as you hurriedly sat him down, deciding to sit with a little bit of distance between you both. 
It took you a moment to find your composure, unsure of the right thing to say or do. However when Charles rested his hand against your shoulder, you finally looked up and across at him. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as Charles’ brows knitted together, eyes narrowing in on you in confusion as to what was going on. 
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you’ve not done anything to hurt me, have you?” 
The silence that followed was worrying for Charles, beginning to fret. He couldn’t think of any reason for you to say sorry, frightened that something had happened though that he knew nothing about. 
“Talk to me, we can sort whatever the problem is,” Charles encouraged, his eyes desperately searching for yours in an attempt to reassure you. 
The confidence you originally had to tell Charles had well and truly disappeared, fighting with yourself as to whether you were doing the right thing anymore or not. 
You were unaware of the affects you were having on Charles either, his heart racing as he overthought everything. It was clear to him whatever was going on had had a huge impact on you, desperate to help try and fix whatever it was that was troubling you. 
“Love, I promise me you could tell me absolutely anything and we’d be able to get through it,” Charles calmly spoke, shuffling along the sofa that he was sat right beside you. “It could be the worst thing in the world, but I’m sure that we can work it out.” 
Your head shook back at Charles, “it’s not as easy as that Charles, I don’t know whether you’d even want to be with me after I tell you this.” 
“What?” He chuckled, “whatever it is, I’m still going to want to be with you.” 
Your free hand reached back, taking the test out and placing it on the table in front of you. “I’m pregnant Charles, we’re going to have a baby,” you muttered. 
“A baby?” Charles replied, his voice sounding full of enthusiasm. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been sat there thinking that I’ll leave you because you’re pregnant.” 
It was the complete opposite reaction from the one you were expecting, glancing to your left and seeing a wide smile on Charles’ face. He reached forwards and picked up the test, making sure that he got a good look at the positive mark for himself. 
“Why would you ever think I’d be upset about this?” Charles asked you, chuckling away to himself. “You know how much I want to have children with you.” 
“But it’s so much earlier than we wanted to,” you reminded him, “and we’re both so busy, you’re racing around the world, there’s so many things to think about Charles.” 
“I know, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t do it.” 
“You think we can?” You quizzed, almost sounding doubtful as to how you would make it work. “I’m worried Charles, I don’t want this to end up getting in the way of your career.” 
Admittedly, you might be settling down together sooner than Charles imagined, but Charles was confident you could make it work. He’d planned how a family would work out so many times in his head, thinking about all possible scenarios so when the time came, he was on it. 
“I get that it’s a bit scary suddenly finding this out, but we can do it,” Charles told you, squeezing against your hand. “I’m not mad, I’m excited, it’s going to be difficult, but we’ve never exactly made life easy for ourselves, have we? We’re used to doing things the tricky way.” 
“I don’t want to end up doing all of this alone though Charles, when you’re at work.” 
His head shook, refusing to let you panic about such a thing. “You’re my priority from now on, you’re having my baby after all.  I’m going to be here for you every second of the way, whether I’m here or on the other side of the world, I will always find a way to make sure I’m here for you.” 
It wasn’t just words of reassurance from Charles, you knew him well enough to know how much he meant it too. He didn’t care who he upset, he always did what he needed to do, and that was especially the case now that he knew that you were having his baby too. 
“I think I’m just in shock, I never imagined this happening so suddenly.” 
Charles nodded in agreement with you, it was a shock for him too, but he was sure that you would be able to do it once the shock had subsided. 
“Whenever you’re worrying or scared, I want you to tell me,” Charles smiled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. “The last thing that you should be doing is going through this alone.” 
“I promise I’ll talk to you,” you replied, resting your head down against Charles’ shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you panic a little about what was going on. I just couldn’t find the words, and I was terrified as to how you’d react about it too.” 
Charles’ arm wrapped around your frame, “I get it, I’d be exactly the same. I’m just glad that you weren’t about to break up with me.” 
“I don’t think I’d ever be stupid enough to break up with you, even if I had the worst news in the world. I’d have to be out of my mind.” 
Charles chuckled as you spoke, “well, you know what they say about pregnant women and hormones, who knows what you’re going to be capable of over the next nine months.” 
“You sound scared to live with a pregnant woman.” 
“Oh, I am absolutely terrified!” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ®ˎ˗
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luvwestwood · 1 year ago
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"Thank You For Your Service" - Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna
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4,341 words.
warnings. nsfw, firemen! toji/sukuna, food-play, oral sex, p in v, mildly dubious con, double penetration, unprotected sex, throat fucking, rough play/sex, praising kink, creampie, degradation/dumbification (slut, whore)
notes. as an owner of your own independent bakery, you deliver your local firemen some sweet treats as a 'thanks' for their service. although a few of the men at the station decide to have a little fun with you. aka toji and sukuna fuck you silly and stuff you with their cum like a profiterole. also this has been in my draft for ages and I wanted to post it before I get back to classes 😭💀
banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig
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After successfully balancing the cash register, you glance over to the clock on the wall that reads sharply, '4:30' in the afternoon.
The rest of the staff, aka the young students you've hired to work in your bakery were long gone, as you had let them off quite early today.
You walked over to the display fridges to see what's remained of the cakes from today. As expected, there were a good few things left such as profiteroles and small dessert cakes.
"Mmm, maybe I should give these to the firemen down at the station."
You smiled as you came up with the sustainable idea to gift the local fire station a box of sweet treats as a thank you for their service. I mean, who wouldn't want free cakes?
You hummed as you tied the pink ribbon over the box. Hopefully you put enough in there, you knew that those working at the fire station were hardworking people, so they needed a lot to refuel.
Glancing to the clock again, only fifteen minutes have passed. You decided it was time to make your way to the fire station. You made sure everything was left prepared for the opening staff tomorrow. Grabbing your coat from the staff room, you took the rest of your belongings, and the nicely wrapped box, making your way to the fire station.
The walk wasn't long, as the station was only located down the avenue. They put the station in a place to make sure it was accessible for everyone. It was convenient for you at this moment too.
Coming to the front of the fire station, you were met with the garage shutters open. You weren't sure if you should just walk in through there, or go around to the visitors entrance. The lights were on though, and you could hear a faint chatter coming from the inside.
Deciding to take a peek, you could see two men sitting in chairs and talking, which you assumed were the firemen on duty today.
You couldn’t really make out their faces, but you could tell one had coral hair, the other, a dark black. At the same time, you mentally slapped yourself for freezing in one spot, wondering why you were unable to move.
Your eyes scanned their bodies, the muscular physique they owned had only been complimented by the fitted navy shirt they were wearing. You could tell both had put in the work at the gym. For once, you wished you were in a burning building right now.
Suddenly, the coral haired man looked in your direction, and by now you could make out some strange tattoos on his face. You gasp, startled at the fact he had caught you staring for awhile like some idiot. Curious, the raven haired man turns his head as well, and speaks.
"Well.. what do we have here?" he continued, "You lost, doll?" his voice so deep, it only went straight through your ears, down to your pussy.
By now, you had the attention of the two men, and it sort of felt belittling in a way. Part of you wanted to turn around and leave, as if nothing happened. Or maybe you could act like you walked into the wrong place.
Gulping, you clutched onto the corners of the box out of nervousness. "No.. I work at the local bakery down the block. I came here to uhm...” Your voice trails off, you had forgotten what to say.
The coral haired one butts into the conversation.
"Oh Toji, you've made her all nervous. She's so soft spoken now." He motions his hand for you to come closer, the so called 'Toji' rolling his eyes at what the other had said.
Hesitant, you stepped through the garage entrance, now hearing it close behind you as you walked closer to the two men. I guess there’s no turning back now..
You still didn't know what the coral haired one was called.
As you finally stood in front of them, they respectfully did the same, standing from the chairs they were just on.
Your stomach churned as you noticed the difference between your heights, the men now towering over you had only made the nauseous feeling worse. It had caused you to look up at them, like some lost puppy. Am I really this sex deprived?
You could have sworn that you felt something purr down there as the so-called Toji crosses his arms, his massive biceps on show. His navy fitted shirt practically sculpted over his muscles.
Begging to get out of this place that made it more difficult to withstand each minute, you spoke first.
“I work at the bakery down the street,” you continued after a breath, “..and I just wanted to give you these goodies as a thank you for your service to this city.”
Wanting to compensate for discomforting you earlier, Toji speaks. “Ain’t that sweet? S’kuna, take the box and put it behind me on the table.”
Sukuna, gently takes the box from your grasp. You felt your face warm up as his more bigger, calloused hands made contact with yours. He smiled at you, possibly for a silent thanks. You couldn't help but do the same.
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you blushed. Flattered that these men were praising you. “Oh, it’s nothing really..” you slowly took a step back. “Anyways, I better get going.”
Toji had only kept his eyes on you, as if he were to devour you at any moment. Leaning against the table behind him, Toji didn't dare to look at anything else in the garage. Sukuna was busy on the other hand, toying with the pink ribbon on the box.
“..Leavin’ already? Isn't that a shame, I thought that you yourself came with these desserts.” Toji snickered, looking at Sukuna behind his shoulder for a response.
Your lashes fluttered, in utter shock you were speechless.
Sukuna, could only laugh at Toji’s cheeky joke that was laced with filth. His own eyes watched you as he sucked the cake’s cream off his fingertips.
Awkwardly laughing, you brush off what just happened. “..I really.. need to get going. I have a bus to catch.” You lied, thinking that it would be able to get you out of here.
“C’mon, it’s not everyday we get the opportunity to share these cakes with a pretty girl. Right, ‘kuna?”
“Yeah, today’s our lucky day.” Sukuna hums, his sentence ending with a smirk.
Biting your lip, you thought about it for a moment. I mean, there wouldn’t be anything else for you to do as soon as you come home.
You knew you were going to regret this, but part of you wanted to stay. I mean, what could go wrong? “Mmm, okay fine, I guess I have a few minutes to spare..”
Toji grins, the scar on his mouth moving with his lips as you walk back closer to the two. "I promise, we'll make the most of it."
He stands back from the table, casually grabbing you by the waist and swiftly setting you atop the table as if you were a doll. You could only hiccup, taken aback by his sudden gesture. You immediately tug down on your skirt due to it rising up just now.
Flustered and warm, you made the sensible decision to take off your coat. Toji only takes it from your possession, setting the coat down on a chair nearby.
Your legs dangled off the edge of the table, slowly swinging back and forth, taking a few breaths to calm your nerves as you watch the men’s next move.
Toji stood in front, facing you, almost between your legs as he reached over to the box of desserts on your right side, grabbing one of the few cream cakes.
Sukuna on the other hand, makes small talk with you. “You make these yourself, beautiful?”
“Oh no, not just by myself. I have a few other staff at my bakery who of course help out.”
He nods slowly in approval, wiping the rest of the ganache off his hands using the pants of his cargo overalls.
You bit your lip, asking a sudden question out of curiosity . “Can I ask, where’s the rest of your crew?.. Is it just you two?”
Toji, busy taking a bite of the cake rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t matter right now,” the question stays unanswered as he changed topics, “God, the cream in this- whatever the fuck this is- tastes great. What you call these again?”
"It's called a profiterole," You watched as Toji took a huge bite, licking the cream off the corners of his mouth.
He uses his finger to swipe a small dollop of the cake’s cream onto his fingertips, bringing it closer to your mouth.
“Here, try it for yourself, It’s the best thing I’ve had.”
Does he expect me to suck it off his finger just like that..?
You knew better, this man was a stranger. Should you really be going around casually sucking on men's fingers? “Oh, I don’t know if I should-”
“Don’t leave me hangin’ doll! creams gonna slide off my finger..”
You shyly gabbed onto his hand, sucking the cream off his fingertip. Toji would be lying if he said that a tent didn’t just form in his cargos. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging to come out.
"'Atta girl.." Toji purred as he felt your hot mouth wrap around his finger.
He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to suck your own juices off his fingers after they had just been inside you.
This whole time, Sukuna was quietly watching everything unfold. He could feel a tinge of jealousy wash through him, angered at the fact that Toji was all handsy with you, and poor Sukuna couldn’t get a turn.
His index finger left your lips with a pop, his eyes never leaving yours. You heard Sukuna shuffle around with the box, his footsteps coming close to both where you and Toji were.
He gently pushed Toji aside, and unfortunately the raven haired sex fanatic took offense to that, Toji stabbing daggers into the back of Sukuna's head as he replaced his spot.
You shivered as Sukuna slithered his one hand onto your bare leg, the other hand holding another one of the cakes.
"How 'bout you share this one with me? Say ahh.." He brings the cake closer to your face, your face heating up from his hand slowly caressing the velvety skin on your thigh.
You grabbed onto his hand to stop it, "I'm really full, thank you th-"
Sukuna's hand suddenly moved down to your chest, smearing cake all over your blouse. The rest of the cake falling onto your skirt.
You jittered as you felt the cold cream manage to dribble down your sternum behind the fabric, a high pitch gasp escaping your lips out of discomfort.
"Oh my.." he continued with a devilish grin, "My hand slipped."
You gasped, your blouse now all ruined with red velvet cake and buttercream. "It's.. okay.. I'm heading home anyways."
"No, no-“ Toji behind him stepped in, "We gotta do something about that."
You tried to reassure them; using your hands as support to try hop off the table, "Guys, I promise it's nothing seriou-" but unfortunately Sukuna grabs the side of your thighs, setting you back on the table.
"Yeah no," thinking, Sukuna crosses his arms. "We gotta take that top off. In fact, take everything off."
Toji smirked, and let out a laugh. "I agree,"
Sukuna's large hands reached for the buttons of your blouse, pulling the top apart, the remaining fragments thrown to the other side of the garage.
The tiny buttons fly everywhere as you wince at the sight that unfolded before your eyes. You were able to see the evident change in the two men's demeanor as their eyes landed on the black lacy bra that was now on show.
"Ah-" Sukuna cooed, "She got some between her tits. Get this girl some tissue."
Toji walked around the garage in search of a tissue roll, and you watched him like a hawk, using your arms to cover your chest. "Can't seem to find any 'round here.."
Unable to form a sentence, you gape your mouth open at Toji, then to Sukuna.
"Well that's too bad.." he reaches for your arms, pulling them apart to expose your cake-stained chest back to him. “I wouldn’t mind licking it off.”
“Wait- I don’t think that’s-“ you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this badly right now.
“Shh
” His hands snake down your chest to your abdomen, gently pushing you to lie against the table.
Your nipples go hard due to the contact of your back with the table’s cold surface, luckily they weren’t able to see that.
You felt as Sukuna’s wet tongue touches your stomach, slowly gliding up towards your cleavage that was stained with cream. You gasp, a breathy moan escaping your lips. That was enough to tell them both that you wanted this as much as they did.
You immediately grab onto his hair, and you could feel the smirk form against your skin.
You heard Toji’s footsteps come closer to your side of the table, he was suspiciously quiet for the time being.
Sukuna would only look up at you as he licked off the creamy residue all over your chest. The warmth from his tongue was ticklish, but this scene arousing enough to have a pool form between your legs.
“Think we gotta take this tiny skirt off too..” you felt him roughly grab on your skirt to slide it off, but not strong enough to rip it apart.
You could only clamp your thighs together, as the rest of your garments were stripped of you, the outcome being you all flustered that you were so exposed in-front of the two men.
Sukuna uses his hand to force your legs open, his head moving between your legs.
Until you felt another pair of hands clutch onto your panties and- rip!
You shudder as your bare pussy was met with the cold air of the garage, hoping to feel Sukuna’s warm, wet mouth but you were mistaken.
It was more cake.
Toji had smeared a Victoria-sponge dangerously below your lower abdomen.
Toji could only palm himself through his pants as he watches Sukuna devour the cake that was making its way towards your clit.
His tongue made its way to your dripping hole, slowly fucking into you back and forth.
“T-that feels.. so good..” you breathe out, Sukuna’s cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he heard this.
Unable to watch anymore, Toji stops palming himself through his pants. He makes his way to the box of desserts, disassembling a jam donut, scooping the strawberry glaze into his hands.
Horny, and jealousy filling his body like mad, he walks behind the table where your head was almost hanging off.
He eagerly unzips his cargos with an unoccupied hand, grabbing for his cock that has been nothing but a nuisance to him these past few minutes.
Too busy moaning in pleasure, you looked up to Toji, your vision of him upside down as you were laid against the table.
You could only watch as Toji’s heavy, thick cock slaps against your forehead, his jam covered hand wrapping around the base and making a mess of it on his length.
You felt his hand smear the strawberry residue all over your chest again, which was most likely for Sukuna to be able to lick.
“Better open wide you slut, or else it won’t fit.” You felt Toji’s hand grab onto your jaw, forcing mouth to open wider.
You moan as his cock fills your mouth so full, the sweet jam from the donut coating your taste buds. Toji wraps his hands around your neck, his two thumbs caressing your throat as he fucked his cock into it.
He groans, “Fuck, just like that..” throbbing as he felt the outline of his cock form against the skin of your throat. Squelching noises could only be heard as he staggeringly rut his hips back and forth.
You could hear Toji grunting above you from the sensation of the vibrations going to straight to his cock as you moaned. You felt Sukuna on the other end lapping at your clit, fucking you with two fingers of his fingers at the same time.
Taking a minute to close your eyes, you indulged in the pleasure you were receiving at both ends. At the same time, you were unable to tell who ripped your bra off you.
Toji pulls his cock away from your throat, leaving you to gasp for air. You shut your eyes tightly, disappointed at the empty feeling you were left with. Warm spit trickled down your face, Toji caressing your cheek but only to slap in after.
Toji doesn’t forget to plant a wet kiss on your lips before pulling away. You whimper as he leaves your side, but only this time he starts walking over to Sukuna’s end.
Sukuna pulled away from your dripping holes too, you wince and moan, praying that this isn’t the final moment that they’d have hands on you. You were too scared that the fun was cut short.
Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you watch the two men, speechless. You try to use this opportunity to catch your breath, but your head only falls back down onto the table. You stay sprawled out on the table, looking up at the bright lights of the garage.
“Feel like it’s time to stuff some cock in that pussy, don’t cha think?” Toji speaks, voice raspy from groaning.
“I think so too. But I’m fucking her first,” Sukuna replies.
A disagreeing Toji snaps back. “Nah, I want to.”
“Aren’t you forgetting we can both fuck her at the same time?” Sukuna suggests, your eyes widening at the thought of two men stuffing you full of cock at the same time.
You could almost predict that they could break you into two, and you have no idea how big any of them are yet. You use your elbows to prop yourself up again, your face showing an expression of disbelief. “I- I can’t do that.. I don’t think I can.”
Of course, they'd hardly take that as an answer. “We’ll see that for ourselves.”
You felt Sukuna grab onto your thighs once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you towards him. He effortlessly picks you up, carrying you over his shoulder and walking towards what seemed like one of the fire trucks.
You heard a door open, Sukuna placed you onto a longer leather seat that was behind the driver in the truck cab.
Hearing a door open behind you, Toji follows inside, crawling onto the same leather seat. He lays back, hands pumping his cock as he watches you from the other side of the seat.
Dazed, you could only immediately crawl onto Toji’s lap, straddling him. He grins, his hands squeezing onto the soft skin of your tits and fondling as you waited for Sukuna to join.
Sukuna climbs onto the seat but this time behind you. Toji slightly moves his head to the side, taking a peek at Sukuna. Too bad, Sukuna was already busy fucking your ass with one of his fingers, making sure you were ready to be stuffed of his cock.
Jealous, Toji grips onto the doughy skin on your hips, aligning his tip with your dripping cunt before slowly sliding in.
You let out a long string of moans and curses, as you felt his thick length stretch you out as you sink down onto his cock.
“God, you feel so good around my cock. ‘S like your pussy’s made for it.”
Hearing a zip behind you, you disregarded it, as you were still trying to adjust to Toji’s size. This was cut short as you were caught by surprise by Sukuna filling you up with his own cock, this time in your ass. He was thick, but not thick as Toji. Although the length made up for it, you would think that he was all the way in but in reality it was only half.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of their cocks were stuffed deeply in both of your holes.
Your hands clutched onto the fabric of Toji’s compression shirt, wrinkling it all together.
Toji placed his soles flat onto the seat, using this support to harshly thrust into you upwards more faster than before as Sukuna behind staggered into you at a more slowed pace. Although he wanted you bad, he made sure to be gentle. He just wanted to indulge every inch of you.
Toji on the other hand, bottomed into you balls deep, his thumb cheekily creeping over to your clit, rubbing in continuous circles as they both fucked into you.
“Fucking slut,” Sukuna spits out, voice shaky as the plush flesh of your ass only clenched around him. “Both holes stuffed full of men’s cocks who you don’t know?”
Sukuna reached for your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you back against his chest.
You whimpered, snaking one of your hands behind to his nape. Sukuna leaned in for a kiss, only to pepper more down your neck to your collarbone.
Toji kept his pace, which as quite impressive. You moaned back into Sukuna’s cheek, feeling a knot twist and form in the pit of your stomach.
“I-It’s too much- I can’t
” Your hand leaves the back of his neck, moving up higher to clutch on his coral hair as the immense pleasure had only washed through you.
Toji below you speaks, “You think we should let her cum?”
Slapping your face as he started to slow down, he could see you were drunk of their cocks. Fortunately, Sukuna was unable to see this as he was busy behind.
Toji thrusted into you balls deep each time in a consecutive pattern, bullying your cervix as your body jolted up and down along with your tits.
Sukuna moved his hands back down, away from your hair to be able to spread your cheeks apart. Groaning as he watched his cock slip in and out of your ass, he makes a decision. “Fuck, I think so. She’s been such a good girl this whole time.”
Toji grins, his hand moving to your cheek but this time roughly caressing your lip with his thumb. “You hear that doll? He says you were such a good girl.”
You were unable to form a sentence, your brains were fucked out at this point and Toji, wasn’t happy with this.
“Fucking answer me you whore,” surprised, you came back to your senses as Toji slapped your cheek harshly, leaving a red mark on your face.
“..Please, let me cum..” you hiccuped, “I can’t take it anymore.”
You watched Toji flash his same old devilish smile through your tear filled eyes, both of their paces picking up again.
Your moans turned shaky, the slapping of balls against your skin and wet noises filling the taxi cab.
Toji went back to lazily rubbing circles on your clit as both of them fucked you, making sure that you would cum on time with them.
This time, Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your throat, bringing your ear close to his mouth. “You want us to breed you? Is that what you want?”
Lost in a trance, you just went with whatever. You didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be stuffed full of them forever.
You could only nod, but Sukuna couldn’t take it as an answer.
“Use your words baby, tell me what you want.” His warm breath tickled your ear, Toji’s thrusting making it difficult for you to speak.
You held onto Sukuna’s wrist around your throat, “I want.. both of your cum.. in me..”
Although your hand fell back onto Toji’s shirt as Sukuna gently pushed you back down. You sighed out loud, sobbing quietly as you felt his cock slide out of you.
Toji’s deep thrusts were the only thing you could feel, “Fuck, I’m coming.” He grunted beneath you, until you felt Sukuna’s cock entering the same hole Toji was in.
As you moaned out louder than before, the pleasure too hard to bear. You could feel yourself turning into jelly, your hands wrinkling the fabric of Toji’s shirt once again.
Your voice strained as you felt both of their cocks shoot warm, ropes of cum into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, your chest heaving as Toji’s grip on your waist remained, but Sukuna’s hands slowly lost grip on your hair.
Both of them filled up your hole with seed to the point that it leaked out of you in no time.
Your eyes completely rolled back for tenth time this hour, feeling them both twitch inside of you, the white fluid leaking onto the black leather seats of the truck cab.
Sukuna leaves your hole first, moaning at sight of the generous amounts of cum that dripped down his length to his shaft as he slid out.
Followed by Toji, you could feel his cock slip out too, until his finger made its way back inside, making sure to fuck the escaping load back into you.
Both of them had left their mark in you, stretching you out so fully that no cock in the future can impress you but theirs.
You felt like a total cock sleeve, and your body yearned for more. But honestly, it felt like you were gonna break apart. So maybe next time.
All three of you stayed in the same spots, the windows were now fogged up to the point the entire truck cab smelled of sex.
“I can definitely point out one thing you and ‘em profiteroles have in common.”
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âŠč àŁȘ ˖ ″ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
âŠč àŁȘ ˖ ″ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. đŸŽ€đŸ©·
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racingghost · 2 months ago
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The FIA Prize Giving 2018 gala was an insane night for Simi, and I want to share all of it!
First, the elephant in the room:
Kimi was absolutely hammered! He caught everyone's eye because he was tumbling around the place, and generally having a blast yapping his mouth off to anyone who would listen to him. Legends said he would do this when drunk, but never had a live audience been witness to it.
Meanwhile, Seb...
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Seb had finished second to Lewis in 2018's title battle, and was also seeing the end of his partnership with Kimi at Ferrari.
Kimi's renewal for Ferrari was always rumored to be something Seb pushed for when negotiating his own contracts, so the news the Scuderia wasn't interested in keeping Kimi past 2018 were a sign that Sebastian's wants weren't of huge importance to them anymore, and they were making way for a promising young talent (Leclerc) to take the lead driver role in Ferrari in the years to come.
Sounds like a bad end of the year for a guy with title aspirations, but guess what?
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Kimi was there, with so much booze in his system that he wasn't at all worried with maintaining his quiet and taciturn act. And you know how they say alcohol lowers your inhibitions and makes your deepest thoughts come out freely?
That night, Kimi had one mission, and it was to keep Seb happy.
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When he caught cameras filming Seb, knowing his friend was a private guy, he jumped in and tried to stop them. Look at his face. He doesn't know what he's doing. He's driven only by protective instinct.
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When Seb talked, you could tell he wasn't hearing a word (and at times it seemed mutual)
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For a bit there, the cameras even caught Kimi deciding to go for a smoke, and Seb trying to impinge a sense of responsibility on him, only to end up being dragged along.
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When they were called on stage to receive the 2nd and 3rd place trophies, it was the funniest shit. There were designated spots on the stage where each driver should stand, but they were quite apart from each other.
You can see an official trying to stop Kimi and take him to his marked spot, but Kimi strode straight towards Seb and stuck decisively by his side. In fact he gestures at Seb, as if telling the crowd to give him his accolades!
His arm was around his shoulders, half offering companionship in what would be their last official act together as teammates, and half supporting himself so he wouldn't fall on his ass on stage.
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And of course, we even had a classic Seb moment, where Kimi offered one of the men delivering the awards a handshake, and Seb took it instead. Kimi didn't even care, he rolled with it, because if Seb wants to hold his hand, god damn it he will.
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Even when they had to part to grab the awards, Kimi made sure to return to his original favored position of keeping one friendly arm around Sebastian's shoulders asap.
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You see Seb turn to him and say something...
It's impossible to tell what, but it looked an awful lot like a "thank you" that carried years of friendship and support behind it. Kimi's eyes transformed at whatever Seb said. his eyebrows lifted and his expression softened.
He told him something to his ear in return, and it made Seb smile again, whatever it was.
Eventually it was Lewis' time to get on stage. He was the 2018 champion, the guy Seb didn't manage to beat, and as such had the right to make a victory speech.
As he does so, the camera caught the losers, Seb and Kimi.
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In that moment, that could have hurt a little harder than usual, Kimi put his arm around Seb's shoulders one more time, downed another drink, and swung him closer.
This was it.
This was the end of their partnership.
Simi, nobody will ever do it like you.
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leefail · 1 month ago
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This is just a mini info dump from an Arab batfamily fan because I find Damian calling his siblings Akhi... adorable (for me as a native speaker watching a writer use Arab words) and, not painful, just... itchy, it URGES me to make a pptx with 300 slides and just? Talk about Arabic?
So... ŰŁŰźÙŠ, Akhi, Brother.
It's not incorrect. The word is used in the right place and delivers its intended meaning. Other Arab speakers might not find a problem with it. They'd feel odd like I did but will likely go "eh" and carry on. But I'm an Arabic enthusiast, so...
Like with every language with geographically widespread users, the Arabic tongue kind of- deviated from its roots. The language has naturally branched out into so many dialects I myself can't keep track of.
Arabs from different regions can understand each other. They use the same words but for different purposes and with different pronunciations.
The original root language that holds them all (Quranic Arabic) was simplified into an easier, standard version that is used for formal speeches and as a communication bridge (seeing that you can't, say, translate something to Arabic and say it's for all Arabs if you use a certain dialect. Because an Arabic dialect is an identity at this point, tell me somebody is Syrian, and I know them already)
Now, with the fun part.
See, no Arab calls any sibling of theirs Akhi, I myself would burst laughing if mine did.
Yakhoi ÙŠÙŽŰźÙˆÙŠ (nonstandard, everyday Arabic for o, brother) , maybe, if I'm calling a stranger from the streets or an offender I'm going to give a piece of my mind.
Or, hold your breaths, my brother is crying, and the lights are out and I NEED to use the tenderest, most loving, most adoring, most revering tone I could muster so he just knows he is loved and family. Y'know? This specific situation.
And other Arabs might just say, no, I use it when, I use it when, I don't use it, etc.
The point is, nobody will mention Akhi. Because it's a Standard Arabic word, a formal word, and a word used in translated texts and stories when a foreign character we don't consider part of us call their brother. It's weird, it's devoid of emotions, and it's like watching a robot trying to be emotional, but it's a translated text. That's what translated texts use, and it's fine.
It is fine, Standard Arabic has been used for stories so much that nobody questions its influence on a character's characterisation.
I'm not saying Standard Arabic shouldn't be used for story writing, quite the opposite, in fact. I'm just saying that if Arabic is used to represent an Arab, its usage should also consider an everyday Arab experience and manners.
Now to Damian.
Akhi is robotic. Damian's personality does allow him to fall under that category. If for his well refined manners and polite, formal speech.
But even the King wouldn't call his brother Akhi.
He'd call him by his name. For my community (and most, I'm sure) siblings are called by their names, and if we look up historic Quranic (Root) Arabic speakers, they, too, call their siblings by their name. Yes, even the Sultan.
If not by actual name, then either endearing or demeaning names.
Arabs LOVE endearing names, but they're dipped in a pool of honey I don't think Damian would like to dive in.
Talia, on the other hand, would most certainly call Damian Mama. Arab parents call their kids by their own titles. It's the ultimate expression of parental love of all times, in my opinion.
(Don't make Batman call him Papa, though. Pretty sure Damian would malfunction)
-
Well, I said all that, but watching writers include Arabic words in his vocabulary is still sweet. Tt is not even a word, but it's such an Arab thing it's my favourite.
If only I could make subtitles of everyday Arab talk and show you, their speech is heavy with, excuse my English, word softeners, it's like they're talking in a TV drama and not the real world.
Watching Damian adopting it would be interesting :D
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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months ago
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deliveries
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words: 1.2k
warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr
“can i say no?” you sigh.
“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.
“i didn't. my- my ex did.”
“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.
you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.
you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.
you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.
you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.
you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.
“stop sending me things.” 
“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”
“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 
“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”
you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.
“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”
“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”
“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.
“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”
you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.
“that works
 but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”
“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”
“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”
--
you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.
you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.
“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.
“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”
“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”
the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.
you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.
“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.
it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.
rafe
p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months
you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.
“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 
“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”
you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.
“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”
“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.
“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”
“ill go wherever you want.”
“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.
--
you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.
you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.
rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.
“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.
“i am.” you nod. 
“can i
 can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”
you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 
“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is
” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.
“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.
“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.
he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.
“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.
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adrienneleclerc · 2 months ago
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DĂ­a de Muertos
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Mexican! Reader
Summary: Per Mexican tradition, Y/N makes an altar for her family members that passed away. She added Charles’s family members as well
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, death, inaccuracies
A/N: This was the first time I put up an ofrenda and since today is Day of the Dead, it’s fitting
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The best thing about dating a Formula 1 driver is the traveling. Y/N joined Charles in all his races, mainly because she is able to work from home as an event planner. So when they were in Mexico City for the Grand Prix, she bought papel picado, sugar skulls, and little dog alebrijes. Now that they are in Brazil, Y/N bought candles, a table cloth, marigolds, and printed out photos to set up the altar.
Y/N made it back to the hotel while Charles was in the track for free practice. She placed the table cloth over the hotel room desk, added the papel picado and marigold before placing the photos in the place card holder. There was one of her aunt that died from cancer, her grandpa that died of old age, Jules, and Hervé. Onces the little altar was set up exactly how she wanted it, she placed the candles near their photos and added the sugar skulls and alebrijes wherever there was an empty space.
Though Y/N wasn’t in Mexico anymore, there are Mexican restaurants in Brazil and she ordered her aunt’s and grandpa’s favorite food plus pan de muerto to have it delivered to the hotel. There was a knock on the door and when Y/N opened it, expecting to see a hotel employee with Mexican food, she saw her boyfriend.
“Muñeco, i thought you would still be in the track.” Y/N said, charles leaned in and kissed Y/N on the cheek before walking into their hotel room.
“We finished, what’s all this?” Charles asked, pointing to the table.
“Right. Well, today is day of the dead and usually I’m in my apartment to make this ofrenda but now I’m dating you so I brought the ofrenda with me.” Y/N explained but Charles looked confused. “Um, it’s an altar, it’s a way to honor my dead relatives and welcome their spirits to our home. I usually go all out but this is a hotel room and I don’t want the fire alarm to go off.” Y/N explained and Charles looked closer at the ofrenda and saw a picture of Jules and another one of his father.
“You put them up?” Charles asked in a whisper, he felt his eyes getting teary, picking up the photo of him and his dad.
“I know you miss them a lot, everything you are doing in formula 1 in for them, I thought it would be nice to add them to the ofrenda. I know this isn’t really your tradition but it’s mine and I want to share it with you.” Y/N said softly, Charles looked at her and kissed her forehead.
“Thank you, Mon ange, that is very sweet of you, really.” Charles said.
“Um, it’s tradition to add their favorite food on the altar. I ordered some Mexican for my aunt and grandpa, what did Jules and your dad like to eat?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could get it here but they liked
” Charles told Y/N their favorite foods.
“I’m sure we could order it from somewhere.” Y/N said. There was a knock and Y/N opened the door, it was the food she ordered. She got the food and gave the man a tip before walking back to Charles. “We also have this bread that’s called pan de muerto, we place it on the ofrenda too.”
“I’m sure they would enjoy the bread.” Charles said smiling. He opened the bag to help Y/N place the bread on the table. “So when we were is Mexico and you told me you were shopping, you were preparing for this?”
“Of course! I’m still Mexican, Muñeco, my tradition won’t change because I’m in another country.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. Y/N placed the food in front of her aunt’s and grandpa’s picture.
“Maybe next year you can put up the ofrenda in my place.” Charles said.
“You mean that?” Y/N asked.
“I do, we haven’t been dating long but I feel very happy with you, happier than I have been in a long time.” Charles said before he kissed Y/N softly.
“I feel happy with you too. Oh, do you want some bread? It’s really good.” Y/N said, grabbing a loaf (?) and offering it to charles.
“Sure.” Charles said, tearing off of a piece of bread to taste. He hummed in content. “This is really good, do they sell this a lot on Mexico for day of the dead?”
“Yes they do, Mexican bread is the best.” Y/N said,
“I Can tell. I’m going to send a picture of the altar to my mom, is that okay?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, it’s okay.” Y/N said and Charles took a picture of the altar, making sure Pascale could clearly see his dad and Jules. He sent it to his mom and got a response in 2 minutes.
“My mom said it’s very sweet and considerate of you to add my dad and Jules.” Charles said.
“I May not have met them but I know how much they mean to you, I couldn’t leave them out.” Y/N said, looking down all shy. Charles brought his his finger under her chin to make her look at him,
“I love you so much, thank you for this.” Charles said before kissing her deeply.
“Don’t mention it.” Y/N said as soon as they separated from the kiss. They hugged each other. “I think we should watch Coco.” Charles laughed at her suggestion. “Well how else are you supposed to get the day of the dead?”
“Fine, let’s see if you can connect you phone to the hotel TV.” Charles said.
And that’s how they spent Día de Muertos, watching Coco on Disney plus and eating pan de muerto.
The End
Hope y’all liked it!
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