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joonie-beanie · 3 days

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A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

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

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

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

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

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

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

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

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

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

…

Huh?

“Here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

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

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

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

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

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

Wriothesley sighs.

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

You grin, holding your head high.

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

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

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

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

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

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

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

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

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

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

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

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

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

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

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

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

Both men look your way. You smile.

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

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

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

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

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

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

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

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

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

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

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

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

And really, who would pass up that offer?

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

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

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

And he seems to be…for the most part.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

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

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

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

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

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

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

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

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

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I told you not to return here.”

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

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

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

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

“I sent you away for a reason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

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

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

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

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

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

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

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Run.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

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

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

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

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

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

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

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

“This is wrong of me…”

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

A quiet laugh leaves you.

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

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

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

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

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

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

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pries your legs apart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first taste of his meal.

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

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

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

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

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

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

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

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

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

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours.

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop.

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body.

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm.

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you.

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt.

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head.

Finally, you're bare beneath him.

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass.

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before.

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger.

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away.

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!”

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much.

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair.

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.”

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you.

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is.

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

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

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension.

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole.

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom.

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin.

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours.

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body.

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more.

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go.

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss.

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm.

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts.

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you.

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent.

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips.

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you.

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you.

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you.

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek.

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy.

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station.

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office.

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more.

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes.

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body.

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment.

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze.

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

#genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette fic #genshin impact x reader #bean fic #genshin x reader

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euthymiya · 3 days

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the delicate line between friends and lovers ft. alhaitham — in which the akademiya’s scribe and the bimarstan’s head nurse develop some serious feelings for each other in between hook ups. evidently, neither of them are very good at being able to communicate these feelings, though.

contains: 14.0k word count ; female reader ; explicit content—not suitable for minors ; fwb to lovers ; mutual pining ; banter and teasing ; angst with happy ending (this one goes out to all the girls who wonder if their fav would choose them: they would!) ; reader is the (very overworked) head nurse at the bimarstan ; mentions of blood and injuries (alhaitham) ; reader has insecurities ; jealousy ; dry humping—and kaveh being a major cockblock unfortunately ; alcohol drinking—4ggravate (minus alhaitham) appearance! ; clothed sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; no prep ; creampie

the akademiya is well connected in its networks. meaning one thing: gossip travels fast. against his will, alhaitham learns far more about people than he wants to, details upon details that travel even through his soundproof earpieces at times.

today, for example, he learns without meaning to that the akademiya has decreased the previously approved funding for the bimarstan. this piece of information is able to irritate him enough that he almost itches to demand for the title of acting grand sage once more. sumeru, a nation of free healthcare, couldn’t possibly hope to underfund one of the pillars of the citizens and their well-being. not unless someone who’s as incapable and underdeveloped in critical thinking as the last grand sage himself (before alhaitham, of course) was in office.

he walks to the bimarstan, footsteps heavy in the dead quiet of the night as he trudges through the door of the hospital. you’re already there to greet him, eyeing the way the arm under his cloak is tense and curled under the fabric.

“another eremite attack?” you murmur, walking towards an empty room as you gaze at him over your shoulder to follow.

he does so wordlessly, eyeing the tired, overworked, and disarrayed nurses along the hospital as he walks past them.

you’re no different, he studies, watching as you stifle a yawn, taking in the darkened circles under your eyes as he sits on an examination table while you bring out the necessary supplies to clean his wound.

the akademiya—no, sumeru was blooming under his lead. that much he was aware of. you’d said it yourself, too, the first time he came.

oh, it’s you! we’re most grateful for your changes, acting grand sage, you’d smiled at him, they’ve really helped improve things here at the bimarstan.

he wasn’t expecting that. the only reason why he’d stopped at the hospital for care instead of going home was because he’d run out of bandages, nothing more. one look at you had all but changed that, the tilt of your lips as they smile spinning his world on its axis in a completely new direction. you tend to his cuts that night, and even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t, he returns after the next expedition.

and the next. and the next. and then it becomes routine.

for a while, alhaitham told himself he only came to the hospital for his wounds instead of patching himself up after long expeditions in the desert because it was nice to see how the bimarstan ran. it’s important for him to be aware of necessary changes that must be made as acting grand sage—however temporary the job may be, he has every intention of doing it properly. so he studies and assesses the functionality of the hospital and makes decisions accordingly. those things can only happen if he visits frequently.

but then he starts to notice that his feet truly only carry him here on the nights you work. though you work often and late into the night, too. being head nurse requires as much, of course, but he notices all too quickly that he’s begun to memorize your schedule.

slowly but surely, he resigns himself to fate. he comes for you.

“it’s just a light graze,” he mumbles after some time, revealing the small gash on his arm under his cloak. your eyebrows crinkle in concern for a moment before you set off to work, methodically and expertly cleaning away at the dried blood and disinfecting the wound.

he doesn’t talk for a while before he finally says, “you’re short-staffed.”

it’s a question presented as an observation—he has a habit of doing that, of speaking his mind and waiting for an explanation to follow.

you sigh, bandaging his arm as you murmur, “people are quitting. it’s been hectic in here—and the funding cut doesn’t exactly allow for a pay that seems worth the grueling hours.”

you love your job. it’s the first thing alhaitham knows about you. you take it very seriously, scolding anyone, even the acting grand sage, about proper care and healthy habits.

did you stitch these yourself? you’d gasped when you first noticed the scars on his chest, that’s dangerous! do you know the infections you could contract from an improperly tended wound?”

it’s not as amusing now to watch the other nurses listen awkwardly as you scold him. he’s back to being the scribe, no longer tied to the title of sage. the nurses aren’t as alarmed anymore by your lack of formality—although, he’s sure by now, they’re a bit used to it too.

“and i assume you’re not resting properly?” he gives you a knowing look, reaching forward with his free hand and brushing a callused but gentle thumb under your bruised eyebags.

you close your eyes at the fleeting touch, humming before giving him a guilty smile.

“i can’t let things get out of hand here.”

“you should take your own advice,” he snorts, “what was it again? something about proper rest and sleep to ensure a healthy lifestyle?”

“if you’re here to throw my words back in my face, i recall also mentioning getting into less trouble,” you huff, momentarily glaring at his arm before meeting his eyes. “what happened to being more careful?”

“like i said,” he shrugs, hissing slightly when you press on his wound to prove your point, “it’s just a graze.”

you and alhaitham are, no doubt, an unexpected match—if you can call yourselves that, even. it’s a complicated relationship you share, you and the former grand sage turned scribe.

you patch him up late at night one day, and he so chivalrously accompanies you on your walk home after your shift. that’s all it was supposed to be…but, well, things are never as simple as sticking to the original plan.

you invite him in for drinks, he accepts, you clumsily trip on your rug, he catches you swiftly, and somehow, in the mix, both of your lips end up meeting in the most heated kiss you’ve ever shared with someone. clothes are easy enough to shed, and stumbling to your bedroom is hardly complicated, and in a far from ideal turn of events, you sleep with the akademiya’s scribe.

multiple times, in fact.

by now, his visits to the bimarstan to see you are as frequent as your visits to his house to see him. the only difference is that his visits tend to be for medical reasons, and yours are…personal to say the least. it’s, of course, as these arrangements tend to go, one that’s strictly physical.

being physically involved with a patient is scandalous enough, but romantic involvement would be nothing short of unethical. and he’s not a very romantically inclined individual anyway, so not toeing the line of something more is easy enough for the both of you.

still, you’re quite fond of him—he’s funny when he wants to be and a gentleman underneath the blunt responses and straightforward remarks. you like to consider him as a good friend. one who knows your body a bit too well than most friends should, but a good friend nonetheless.

you look at him unimpressed as you finish tending to his wound, scoffing and rolling your eyes as you point out, “you’d call it a graze even if your arm was dangling off the bone.”

that gets a chuckle out of him, his head tilting up as he looks at you. if you weren’t in a hospital with your work attire, this would feel oddly domestic: cleaning tenderly at his wounds as he looks at you softly.

you and alhaitham never toe the line of something more, but you do take steps dangerously close sometimes.

“when do you finish your shift?” he asks, voice a low rumble.

“now,” you grin, giving him a mock glare as you add, “you have me working past the clock.”

“let me walk you home, then.” he’d do it anyway, regardless of whether or not you accept. still, you never turn him away.

“how kind of you,” you say sarcastically—you know better than he does what he means, what he wants, and you can’t exactly say you don’t want it yourself.

“i can be rather giving when i want,” he shrugs.

“oh, yes,” you snort, “quite the giver.” the grin he sends you is nothing short of fond.

the line blurs a little like it’s been drawn in the sand, grains carried away by the wind and leaving the faintest trace of the border you draw. somehow, even though you shouldn’t, you step closer to it, just at the edge.

but it’s never enough to cross it.

“am i?” he muses, “i’m glad you think so.”

“you know, most people would believe you talk too little. but i think you talk too much.”

his cloak falls back in place over his arm as he stands, lips curled in a rare smile—well, rare to anyone other than you, that is. he walks out, and you follow.

it almost feels like you're getting closer and closer to stumbling past the line against your will every day.

——————————

alhaitham knows your home well. well enough that he knows to drop his cloak in the basket you keep for laundry so you can wash away the blood soaked into the fabric for him.

is it normal to do the laundry of your fuck buddy? you’re not even sure. it’s not like you’d ask anyone, anyway.

but it doesn’t matter—not when his lips find yours before you can think about it too much. it’s a slow kiss. he’s good with his mouth in more ways than one—good at kissing, good at pleasing, and he’s even good at talking. he’s a linguist, anyway, so it only makes sense.

“eager,” you murmur in between kisses, nipping at his lips as he shivers. “did you miss me that badly in the desert?”

“of course,” he rasps, gently guiding you to fall back against your bed, his hand cupping the back of your head like you’re fragile as glass, “eremites don’t have as enticing of a touch as you do.”

“maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll be less rough with you,” you wiggle your brows, giggling.

he clicks his teeth, angling your jaw to trail kisses along the slant of it as his hands travel to your hips, gently rubbing the bare skin of your hips under your shirt. you hum appreciatively, closing your eyes and sighing at the soothing feeling of his warm palms seeping heat into your skin. your fingers thread into his hair, tangling into the locks for some sort of means to hold on and ground yourself.

it’s like warm drizzles of syrup, his touch sinking into you as you absorb his sweetness.

“and why would i need that when this is far better?”

every word alhaitham alhaitham says is punctuated with the warmth of his lips pressed into your skin. it’s almost soothing—he feels calming. it doesn’t feel heated, not the passionate kind that kindles something carnal in you.

it feels warm, the soft and gentle kind that makes everything feel a bit lighter. a bit cozier. something more homely in this house of yours.

“mhm,” you hum, your fingers slowly slipping from his hair as they fall to his shoulders, barely holding him in place as your eyes remain shut. it’s soothing, everything about him. enough that you don’t even realize you’re dozing off until he chuckles.

“did i bore you into sleep?” he pecks your cheek.

“no,” you tug your eyelids apart, giving him a sheepish grin, “sorry, you’re just warm.”

“oh yeah?” he grins, amused. he’s climbing off of you, much to your dismay, making a soft whine run past your lips as your hands chase him.

he’s quick to replace the lack of him, though, planting himself beside you as he pulls you into his chest.

cuddling isn’t new for the two of you. usually, it’s a post-coital activity, though—you start to think alhaitham is just as bad at drawing a clear line in the sand as you. he’s gentle as he pulls your covers over you, pressing one more kiss to your head before he sighs and relaxes.

“i’m not tired,” you protest weakly.

“no, you’re not,” he agrees to satisfy you, eyeing your drooping eyes knowingly. “i am, though. it’s been a long trip.”

“right,” you nod, humming. “weak.”

he rolls his eyes, though fondly—you barely make out the action through your half lidded eyes as you glance at him one last look before your eyes force themselves shut. he’s warm, smells like that spicy hint of harra fruit in his cologne, and feels painfully safe when he lets you curl into his strong arm as it wraps around you.

normal people don’t cuddle when they’re just fucking like this—you and alhaitham are anything but normal. it’s a mutual sort of agreement, though. you allow the small domestic tendencies to slip past the line, only to let the shore wash it away from the sand.

it never stays for long, this feeling of intimacy. real intimacy, the kind that’s far more personal than seeing each other nude and feeling each other at your rawest. the kind where you both fall asleep beside each other, tangled, safe, warm, trusted.

but you’re just friends. you think. you can’t afford to be anything more—alhaitham isn’t the sort of man to grant you something like that. you’re sure of that. he’s kind, good natured, even. but there’s not one romantically inclined bone in his body—you’ve seen it yourself.

he’s rejected one too many brave women with her heart on her sleeve. never cruelly, but always definitively.

sleep doesn’t let you think about it all for too long. you resign yourself to a peaceful slumber beside him, breath slowly evening out as he rubs the small of your back.

and, when morning comes and you awaken, you don’t think about it for too long then, either. because he’s gone. because, of course, he wouldn’t stay—not when this is physical and nothing more.

you’re not disappointed, you think. you’re aware of the nature of things. and he’s a gentleman, as always, leaving you a note on your bedside.

i had to file some reports from my expedition. i believe i’ll be needing my cloak back.

you chuckle, shaking your head. it’s an invitation—bring me my cloak, and we’ll finish what we started.

it’s how things are with you and alhaitham. you do his laundry with yours, he walks you home and forces you to rest, and sometimes, you happen to partake in some debauchery in the process. there’s nothing wrong with it.

and even if your toes dance along the edge of the line, they always drag along to draw it sharper in the sand.

——————————

coming to alhaitham’s house seems like second nature these days. he comes to you at night, and you come to him in the afternoon of your day off—luck would have it that yours happens to coincide with his. you knock three times and he opens as soon as your knuckles pull away from the cool surface of his door. it’s like he expects you, maybe even waits for you.

you step in and let the door close behind you, grinning when he steps closer and cages you against the tight corner that is his front entrance.

“i brought over your cloak,” you hold up the cloth, gesturing for him to move so you can put it on him. he looks at you incredulously, like you’re out of your mind.

“why would i put it on now?” he asks in confusion.

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow, “you always wear one?”

“and why would i dress when we’ll only be undressing in a short moment?” he quirks his own brow like it’s obvious—which, to be fair, alhaitham is not exactly wrong. but it doesn’t make you any less flustered when he says it.

“you’re shameless,” you huff, looking away in embarrassment. he chuckles lowly, leaning down and trailing his nose along your collarbone, breathing in your perfume.

“i think i’m more practical, is all,” he murmurs into your skin. you sigh, goosebumps traveling across your body at the fan of his breath against you.

“if only people knew how unstiff the akademiya’s scribe can truly be,” you grin, finger tracing the sliver of skin showing from his chest window. “did you know i overheard a few patients discuss how bad you are at conversing?”

“i don’t get paid to partake in small talk,” he says, voice a low vibration as he shivers at your touch. “i have things to finish when i’m on the clock apart from socializing.”

“what, you’re that concerned when you have your lovely pay raise? i’m sure you could afford a few minutes,” you tease, making him roll his eyes.

alhaitham certainly won’t admit it, but he finds a good amount of amusement from your quips—the small grin on his usually downturned lips tells you as much.

“if you want me to spend my earnings on you, there are better ways to ask,” he shoots light-heartedly.

“you’d accuse me of such shallow schemes?” you pout. “do you think me to be after your mora?”

his answer is instantaneous, coming in the form of a delicate kiss pressed to your lips as his hands grab your hips. your arms have a habit of their own, always wrapping around his neck before you can even comprehend the action, and just like always, you both end up a tangled pile of limbs that can’t even make it past the doorway, let alone the rest of the house.

you like it this way, perhaps even love it. something about him being unable to wait the time it takes to walk to his room fills you up with a sense of glee.

“being the scribe is a much simpler job than sage,” he mumbles between kisses, “there happens to be much more time for other things.”

“things like taking the head nurse against the door of your home?”

“perhaps,” he smiles with a chuckle.

who would’ve thought alhaitham could smile so painfully charming? just a few weeks ago, you had never seen him smile before at all, willing to bet that he’d never smiled a day after stepping into adulthood with that seriousness he holds so dearly.

“i don’t have much time,” you hum in between kisses, fingers fiddling with the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“we’ll make do, i’m sure,” he says through a breathy groan, already semi-hard as your thigh slots between his legs, rubbing against the forming tent in his pants.

your head tilts up as his head buries into your neck, lips branding searing kisses into your skin. you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his, to be stamped with his affections one kiss at a time until no one else could hope to have you. your eyes flutter shut, sighing as he sucks attentively to your sweet spot.

“don’t leave marks,” you scold, “i can’t show up to the bimarstan looking so scandalous.”

you’ve felt his lips against your skin enough times that you can tell them by heart. you don’t have to look to know they’re pouting against your neck—you can feel it against your skin. you giggle, cupping the back of his head as your fingers delicately thread through his hair.

“i’m meant to hold back then?” he grumbles. it’s almost petulant, but he still softens the nipping against your skin, careful to leave no evidence of his existence against you, however disgruntled he might be.

“don’t be so whiny,” you laugh. archons must have it out for you, though, because as soon as you say that, his hardened cock brushes against your crotch, making you whine at the friction. it’s something, but it’s hardly anything at all—the separation from the fabric makes everything not nearly enough.

he seems to know it, too, because he pulls away, eyeing you with a certain gleam in his eyes that looks like a cross between smug and amused.

“i’ll try,” he says smugly. you glare, but you’re cut off by the brush of his cock against that sensitive spot between your thighs once more, his hips grinding against you as you fall slack against the door. you can feel him rub against your clit, sending shockwaves along your spine as your back arches and you breathlessly moan his name.

at first, he only does it to tease you, but after the first few rolls of his hips, it’s evident he can’t bring himself to stop. it’s not enough, not for either of you. the ache settling between your legs can’t be quelled with a few simple rolls of his hips with fabric separating you both from each other. but alhaitham’s sense of control seems to wash away with the tidal waves of pleasure, each thrust of his hips brushing his cock against your heat and leaving him panting into your shoulder.

“m-more,” you plead, grabbing at his cape and fisting the material as you hold onto him tightly, “i need more—please.”

alhaitham, for all his composure and self-preservation, is simple to take apart when his throbbing cock is pressed against your cunt, rubbing against the length and building the pressure he so desperately needs.

he doesn’t even seem to hear you, hot breath fanning against the crook of your neck as he buries his head and groans, hips sloppy and rough as they rut into you. you can feel the outline of his cock clearly even through his pants and yours, hot and undoubtedly hard. the bulge in his pants brushes against your clit through yours—and even if it’s nowhere close to feeling him inside of you, you can feel yourself just about to break.

“sorry,” he gasps, “sorry—c-can’t stop. i-i’m c-close. so close.”

the last part comes out like a plead. it’s like he’s begging you to free him of this torment, like he needs you to make him fall over the edge because he can’t bring himself there. you think that might be the case, so you wrap your fingers around his hair and tug.

he moans—maybe if you were feeling teasing, you’d call it a whine and watch his cheeks flush as he scowls. but there’s no chance for that. not when you’re both so close, so achingly close that you can just make out the twitch of his cock in his pants.

and then the doorknob twists.

a series of muffled curses can be heard through the other side of the door, and you both pause—rigid, tense, stiffly alert as your eyes widen. his head perks up from its place in your neck, staring at the doorknob in equal parts rage and equal parts confusion, like he blames it for cutting you both short of a much-needed, much-wanted orgasm.

“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” you hear a voice groan exasperatedly through the door, “again?”

you’re completely lost. who could be trying to enter alhaitham’s house at this hour?

the only hope you have for answers is, of course, alhaitham—one look at the recognition and irritation on his face, and you can piece together that it’s certainly no stranger. alhaitham, if his cold glare could freeze anything where it stands, could potentially risk turning sumeru into the next snezhnaya. his eyes are hardened, and his jaw is clenched as he breathes out a heavy sigh through his nose.

“and you’re kidding me,” he mutters bitterly. “now?”

“hey! i know you’re home! open this door and stop pretending like you can’t hear me,” the voice demands, tapping on the door with more conviction than the last time.

you furrow your eyebrows and look at him expectantly; an explanation demanded through the crinkles of your forehead as you look at him in confusion. he pulls away, jaw still tight as he adjusts himself in his pants, trying his best to hide the still painful erection he sports.

“my roommate,” he says quietly. deadly.

you almost feel bad for the poor soul that must be waiting on the other side of the door, unaware of the pure wrath he must be about to face judging by the look on alhaitham’s face.

you hear the voice again, “ugh! you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? you—”

“calm down,” alhaitham calls, unimpressed and unamused as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. he seems to hold it for a moment like he’s fighting the tension in his body, before he slumps and lets out another sigh. this time, it’s much more defeated as he gives you an apologetic look when his eyes open.

you both adjust your appearances, erasing any trace of debauchery before you step aside and let him approach the door.

the swing of the door opening is a rather aggressive one, and alhaitham stands taller and straighter than you’ve ever seen him, like he’s trying to tower over the figure that enters the house.

you recognize him immediately.

“oh!” you gasp in awe, “you’re that architect! the one who designed the palace of alcazarzaray!”

both men look equally as haunted by your statement. alhaitham’s eye all but twitches as he takes in the breathless admiration in your voice—you’re no doubt praising kaveh’s work. as for the latter…well, he looks like he might just about launch himself into the blade of an eremite willingly the first chance he gets.

“wh-who are you?” kaveh demands, “and what are you doing here?”

“she’s obviously a guest of mine,” alhaitham shoots coolly, tone as condescending as ever. “have you lost all manners? that’s no way to greet a guest.”

“what did you say to me? i want to hear nothing of the sort from you—god knows your temper isn’t one to speak on my manners.”

kaveh turns to you, taking one better look at you, squinting as he thinks for a moment before realization flashes across his features. he seems to recognize you—though most people in sumeru do know you quite well. the nurses at the bimarstan are limited, these days.

“ah! you’re the head nurse from the bimarstan! you looked at my wrist,” he recalls.

you smile, nodding as you gesture at his hand and ask kindly, “is it better now? i do hope it’s not as sore anymore. did you apply heat as i suggested? and i hope you’re taking ample rest in between sketches—architects are very prone to sore wrists as is, you know.”

alhaitham rolls his eyes at your lecture, grumbling, “as if he would follow anyone’s advice. he’s far too stubborn.”

“i’ll have you know that i followed her advice quite closely,” kaveh says pointedly. he turns to you, voice much softer as he smiles and adds, “and my wrist is much better, thank you.”

“of course,” you nod. and then you pause, staring between the two unsurely as you falter and ask, “but…i wasn’t aware you two were friends. alhaitham tells me you’re his roommate—he’s never mentioned you before today, though.”

they both glare at each other through the corners of their eyes. something tells you maybe friends was a bit of an exaggerated term. alhaitham makes no moves to speak, crossing his arms and staring expectantly at kaveh—the blonde scoffs, shaking his head with a scowl.

“friends…is a generous word. we’re roommates,” he nods in confirmation, “i’ve…ran into some trouble for the time being, so i’m staying here for a bit. won’t be much long, however. i need a space less…suffocating.”

“and how well is that plan faring for you?” alhaitham’s words seem to poke at kaveh, riling the blonde up further as you watch the scene before you awkwardly.

“you—” but before kaveh can finish whatever retaliation was on the cusp of his tongue, he pauses. it’s like all at once, the situation hits him before he’s staring between the two of you, instead. “hang on a moment. how do the both of you know each other? i didn’t know alhaitham was acquainted enough with the head nurse for her to pay a visit.”

“well,” you start, trailing off as you cough lightly, tensing as the question throws you off guard. “umm…alhaitham visits the bimarstan sometimes after his trips to the desert. so…”

so what? how would that explain your visit to his home? it’s not as though you become friendly with all your patients and drop them a visit—in fact, alhaitham is the only one you’ve ever done that for. and of course, it’s not just a visit that you’re doing here. but kaveh doesn’t need to know that.

that would be quite the scandal—getting so intimate with a regular patient. and apart from that, you and alhaitham aren’t exactly in an ideal situation. what would you tell kaveh? that you come over just to hook up? it’s not exactly a rare occurrence to have a beneficial relationship with someone like this, but still…admitting it like that is a bit too shameless for your liking.

and then there’s a much more complicated, much less easy-to-tackle problem, too. you’re not even sure if you can confidently say you don’t have feelings for the scribe. that’s not something you were counting on, ever. saying you only partake in intimate activities with no strings attached might just hit you too hard in the gut, even if it’s not exactly a lie. but admitting the words out loud isn’t something you’re prepared to do.

almost like he senses your turmoil, alhaitham steps in, bless his soul. he almost looks a bit conflicted, studying you carefully. you don’t have time to dwell on it, though, before he speaks.

“so she came to check on a wound she patched up,” he finishes for you, quick and easy and confident enough in his words that it makes up for your nerves. he quicks a fleeting glance at you before raising an eyebrow to kaveh. “i left in a hurry and didn’t really let her properly tend to it last time. not that it’s your business, of course. i’m perfectly within my rights to bring guests over to my house.”

“be careful,” kaveh glowers, “anymore attitude, and you’ll risk showing your guests your true colors if you’re not cautious. you wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on the same person who tends to your wounds, do you? that would be fatal.”

“you two are quite the duo,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “it seems alhaitham has finally met his match verbally. you truly don’t let him have the last say.”

alhaitham almost looks offended, looking at you in disbelief. “i am not outmatched by his—”

“if it’s not too much trouble,” kaveh laughs nervously, cutting alhaitham off with a sharp look, “could you keep this…uh arrangement of ours a secret? i don’t really want this getting around and such.”

“my lips are sealed,” you promise. kaveh perks up, relief sagging into his shoulders at that before he nods, giving you a friendly smile as he waves at you.

“i’ll be off to finish a project, then. nice seeing you.”

as soon as he walks away and you’re certain the door to his room shuts, you let out a soft breath of relief.

“that was close,” you whisper, “he could’ve figured it out.”

“right,” alhaitham says vaguely. he doesn’t say much else, arms still crossed as he stands there and looks at you—something about the way alhaitham stares at you is too uncomfortable for your liking.

not because he looks at you weirdly or even inappropriately, but because it almost feels like he can pick apart every thought in your head just by his gaze alone.

you shuffle on your feet before you give him a tight smile.

“i should go—the patients are never-ending these days,” you chuckle nervously.

“make sure you don’t overwork yourself,” he nods.

you linger for a moment. you’re not sure why. it’s not as though you can expect him to give you a goodbye kiss—that would be preposterous. and far too wishful.

so instead, you give him a small wave before turning towards the door—but he stops you before you can reach for the door handle, pulling you flush against him, your back to his chest.

“will you come back tonight?” he whispers, voice low and husky as he presses his still-hard crotch against you. you shiver as he nips at your skin to get his point across.

“what about kaveh?” you ask softly, biting your lip, unsure. the little voice in your head screams, who cares about kaveh?

“he’ll be dead asleep,” he snorts, “last night was the third all-nighter he pulled. there’s no chance he’ll make it past seven pm today.”

“you’re insatiable,” you tease, shaking your head as you snort. “do you know that?”

“i’ve never had a decline on your end,” he shoots back.

“i have a shift later tonight,” you say apologetically, sighing as you think about the extra hours you’ll have to put in soon, “there aren’t enough people tonight without me.”

“you should really speak to someone about this funding cut,” he frowns, slumping against you, “it’s getting out of hand.”

“no one listens.” your voice is so defeated, so uncharacteristically tired. you’re sure he notices it in a heartbeat—you notice it yourself. “but i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“sure,” is all he says.

hesitantly, you pull away. his hands leave your hips reluctantly, too, like they’re most comfortable when they have you to house them. but neither of you say anything, simply nodding at each other as you look at him over your shoulder and exit through the door.

the footsteps down his steps and away from his home are the heaviest ones you’ve taken all week.

you decide you hate the sand. and that stupid line you both seem to have drawn.

——————————

it takes two failed attempts at fucking alhaitham to realize you’re not strictly only after the physical pleasure he brings.

the first time, you weren’t even disappointed you didn’t get that far. it was only a disappointment that he was gone when you woke, and you realize it’s because the absence of him is why you’re even let down in the first place. the second time, you’re unhappy because you have to keep the nature of your relationship a secret—that’s a more complex problem.

it’s secret because it has to be, because of how lewd it is by nature and how partially unprofessional it is. but you decide you also hate it to be a secret. no one knows that you see alhaitham bare and at his most vulnerable, and you can’t handle that anymore. especially when you watch a nurse flirt so poorly with him right before your eyes.

“oh, it’s you, acting grand sage,” she giggles, “what can i do for you today?”

“i’ve actually returned to my previous position as scribe,” he corrects, entirely unaffected.

“oh, is that so?” she gasps—you know it’s all for show. everyone is aware of his stepping down. “well, i, for one, think it’s a shame. you were so capable as a leader.”

alhaitham doesn’t like leading. for all he claims it’s because it’s too much trouble and far more work than he appreciates, you know that it’s also because the easiest way to never be swayed by power is to stay far away from it. he keeps himself grounded this way. he uses his smarts for only what’s necessary and only enough to quell his thirst for knowledge and never anything more. his principles are admirable.

and should the next grand sage also abuse such power like the last, he’ll step up from his humble position as scribe and fix the problem again—because that’s what he knows to do best. use his genius to solve issues as they arise, not control the situation entirely.

of course, she wouldn’t know that. she doesn’t know anything about him.

you fight back the roll of your eyes with the last shreds of self-preservation you have left.

“the position wasn’t really for me,” he says plainly. “any idea where the head nurse might be? i have some business to discuss with her.”

it shouldn’t satisfy you as much as it does when she deflates at at his dismissal. but does—enough that you saunter up with a grin on your lips as you greet the two.

“why hello. what business does the scribe have with little old me?” you hum. the nurse becomes background noise when your eyes meet his teal ones, staring at the small fleck of amber in his pupils while his piercing gaze rakes over your face as if to study you.

you feel oddly seen under his stare—he’s seen you stripped and bare, at your most vulnerable under him. but somehow, you’ve never thought about it much in the moment like now. right now, he sees you with a clear mind, without the clouding haze of lust to fog his mind. right now, he can see you for every flaw and every imperfection, so up close. he can notice the way your fingers fiddle with themselves to calm your nerves. he can catch every nervous shuffle on your heels as you fight the urge to lean into him from the proximity.

finally, you break out of your trance when the nurse clears her throat and mumbles, “i’ll uh..i’ll be off, then.”

he blinks at the same time as you, shaking his head slightly to bring himself back to the present as he clears his throat.

“can we speak somewhere more private?” he asks quietly. you don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. but you nod nonetheless, leading him to an empty room as he follows.

it’s a long, painstakingly dreadful walk. your mind is filled with too many possible scenarios that it’s a miracle your brain is even functioning properly. it should short circuit. what if he wants to end your arrangement? what if he’s aware of your slowly shifting feelings (if you can even call them that)? what if he’s found someone he’s interested in? what if his roommate has pieced together something, and now he needs to come up with a cover?

the possibilities are endless, and they plague your mind so heavily that your lip is chewed raw by the time you enter the room and shut it behind him as he follows you in.

“you wanted to talk?” you ask hesitantly.

he doesn’t say anything—the only thing he does is press a folded piece of paper in your hands as you stare at him, confused.

“open it,” he insists.

so you do. and reading over it makes you pause as you glance up at him in disbelief. the bimarstan funding—more than doubled.

“what?” you breathe, in absolute awe, “how…how is this possible?”

“i’ve pulled a few strings,” he says plainly, shrugging. as always, he brushes off his actions as though he hasn’t just changed your entire job for the better. “it’s a nice perk of being an ex-sage.”

“you’ve used corruption just to help me?” your words are a playful jab—but there’s still an underlying question that you really do mean to ask. why go to such lengths for me?

“it’s hardly corruption,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. the dust of red over the tips of his ears is the only thing that gives away the slightly flustered part of him, “i had a few favors owed to me, and the conditions here play an important role to everyone in sumeru. it was a simple correction to their terrible decision-making skills.”

“oh, haitham,” you chuckle. this time, the nickname really does make him flush more obviously, his eyes darting away to look off to the side as he clears his throat again.

“well, that’s all,” he says stiffly, “i have to go home and…and make dinner. kaveh is of no help.”

“sure,” you beam, looking at him knowingly. you pause for a moment, contemplating before you cave and add, “and thank you. really.”

“it’s really nothing to look into,” he says awkwardly, “hopefully, now you can work fewer hours.”

“the other nurses will also really appreciate it,” you say softly, “i’ll be sure to let them know—they’ll really have the hots for you this time,” you snort, making an indirect reference to earlier. he shivers, like the thought leaves him unnerved.

“that one nurse of yours hasn’t left me alone since i stepped up as grand sage for that short while,” he grumbles, making you snort at the troubled look on his face. it shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does to see him so disgusted by the affections of someone else, but you’re only human. “doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.”

“oh c’mon, she’s sweet,” you tease. now that you know he’s uninterested, it’s fun to mess with him and get under his skin, giggling as you reach over and poke at his arm.

“perhaps,” he shrugs, “but not very good at keeping her emotions in check. i’ve known her since my student days—i don’t think i could last one day with her lack of…composure.”

“what, you’re too above emotions?” you ask amused, “i would disagree. you’re a rather grumpy man, you know.”

“am i?” he fights back a grin, “i hardly noticed.”

“without your morning coffee, yes,” you quip.

he laughs, shaking his head as he stares at you with something that looks oddly close to fondness in his eyes before he murmurs, “i do really need to make dinner. kaveh will truly whine my ear off if i don’t tonight.”

“have fun,” you pinch his cheek. he rolls his eyes, and with that, he nods to you and leaves, swiftly walking away and leaving you to yourself in the empty room with the slip of paper in your hands, a lovesick smile still on your face.

you don’t even know where the line starts or where it ends anymore. all you know is that you’ve undoubtedly crossed it all on your own—and it might be the end of you, truly.

——————————

it takes one nice gesture from alhaitham to make you realize you’ve fallen hopelessly hard for him. before, every small action of intimacy was always just the two of you being friends, amicable and good-natured in between sex.

now, you’re not sure you could spend a single minute next to him without wondering what it would feel like to do those things as a couple.

sometimes, after sex, alhaitham likes to read. because it’s hard for him to sleep, and he doesn’t want to disturb you from your much-needed rest after a long day at the hospital. you don’t realize how reliant you’ve become on the sound of his pages flipping until you lay in bed alone, tossing and turning under your sheets as you try your hardest to sleep.

you can’t. not when all you think about is him. him, him, him. he’s all your mind drifts to nowadays.

but you know alhaitham—better than a lot of people, in fact, seeing as you get to see parts of him that are otherwise… off-limits. being in a relationship is the last thing he wants, especially with you. otherwise, he’d have told you by now. you’re scared of a lot of things, scared to speak your mind, and tend to overthink too much for your own good.

but alhaitham? he’s blunt and to the point. if he’d wanted something more with you, if the line had blurred and blurred for him until it risked being nonexistent like it did for you, he’d have said something. but he hasn’t—and neither can you.

because you know as soon as you do, it’ll be over. the kind gestures, the gentle touches, the heated kisses, the nightly visits, all of it. gone with the wind as it blows the line in the sand away for good—not because he wants to cross it, but because it simply doesn’t need to exist anymore if he never speaks to you again.

alhaitham is not a romantically inclined guy. he’s good-looking enough that not just a handful of girls have tried their hand at confessing to him, and he’s always turned them down instantly. you’ve seen it, heard about it, know it to be true. and apart from that, are you both even that compatible?

sure, you get along great as is, but a relationship is much deeper than that. you’ve always appreciated how honest he was, how straightforward he put things. but relationships come with a lot more vulnerability and emotions than you’ve ever shown him. his bluntness will be too easy to mistake for casual cruelty when you’re in over your head. he’s quiet; he doesn’t appreciate too much interaction—would he even enjoy going on dates? what if you insisted on an evening out, and all he wanted to do was stay in and read? would he want to do all that stuff? everything you want seems like it would be something of a chore for him, something that makes him see you as a chore.

he even said it himself the other day, calling that nurse too emotional for his liking. sure, it was an off-handed comment, but you’re one emotional day away from potentially being too much for him too. you couldn’t handle that. not when you like him so, so much. not when you want him so bad, you couldn’t handle him not wanting you just as badly.

would he even want you that badly? logic tells you no—and logic is at the forefront of his mind at all times. your emotionally charged outlook on life would be a bleeding mess of color in his neutral, logically categorized approach.

you’d be dooming yourself to loving a man who would hardly know what to do with your affections.

so you do the only sound solution to this predicament of yours—you end things before he can do it himself. it’s inevitable, of course. whether it’s in a few weeks or months, eventually, alhaitham will grow bored of your casual fling. and he’ll end things, completely fine and normal while you fall apart at the seams. the best thing you can do for yourself is let things end on your own terms, and early on, too, before the feelings fester into something all too serious.

it’s not as though you love him yet—things are still early on enough to make sense of them.

or is it? some part of your mind asks viciously, are you sure you don’t love him?

you push away the thought as quickly as it pops into your head. rolling your shoulders back, you straighten your posture, taking a deep breath before you knock on his door.

he opens it instantly, smiling that small, ghost of a smile of his. you falter immediately.

“hey,” he hums, swinging his door wider, “come in.”

“no, that’s okay,” you say stiffly, not meeting his eyes, “i…can’t today.”

“oh.” you hate that you can hear the frown in his voice and practically see the confused crinkle of his eyebrows. “did you want to talk about something, then?”

yes, you want to say. there’s a lot i want to talk about.

there’s a lot you should talk about—and if you were keen on discussing this like an adult, you would lay it all out on the table.

instead, you blurt out, “i think we should stop.”

he eyes you carefully, raising a questioning brow as he asks, “stop what?”

“this,” you point between the two of you, “whatever…whatever this is we’re doing.”

and just as you expected, his face is blank, so neutral and so hard to read you want to scream at him. yell at him for making you want him so bad when you can’t even tell if he’s even a fraction as crazy as you. does he want you? he certainly treats you well sometimes, but maybe that’s just because you get his dick wet and stitch up a few wounds here and there for him. does he actually even toss and turn and stay up thinking about you the way you think about him?

the answer is probably no. you don’t even want to find out if you’re right or not. but he’s never made you believe he has, so you don’t entirely think you’re wrong in your assumptions.

“and what are we doing?” he must be playing dumb, you think.

“hooking up,” you hiss, “having sex. fucking. whatever you want to call it, alhaitham. we have to end it. now.”

“and what brought this on?” he crosses his arms.

you want to ask him why he’s being so cruel, so intent on keeping you when you clearly can’t stay, when there are so many women who would throw themselves at him for a chance to get in bed with him if a physical partner is what he’s so hellbent on keeping. but you can’t be that for him any longer, not when your emotions are tired of being a jumbled mess that slowly but surely eat away at your decaying soul.

“we…we’re just…it’s not—we just have to, okay? i don’t appreciate you treating me like i’m easy.”

“wha—when have i ever treated you as such?” he looks at you bewildered, getting defensive.

“that’s not what i meant,” you pinch your nose, groaning as you try to process the words you want to say in your spinning head. everything is too much—the way he’s close, the way your body feels aflame from just standing near him, the way your eyes are involuntarily misting over. “this…this is just an easy arrangement, that’s all. for both of us. but i don’t want to be someone’s quick and easy hook-up for the sake of convenience. i need…i need something more from someone, so we should stop while we can so i can find myself that.”

there’s a minimal twitch of his jaw as he clenches and unclenches it, nodding slowly.

“you want something more, is that it?”

“w-well, yes—but that’s not what i entirely meant, so don’t read into it—”

“so how would ending this get you that, then?” he challenges. you hate that he makes you feel stupid, that he looks at you like you’re not thinking when that’s all you’ve been doing these last few…archons know how long. he’s plagued your mind for so much time you can��t even pinpoint for how long.

“i want something more, but not from you,” you spit, slamming your hands to slap against your thighs in frustration, “that’s obviously why i’m ending it! must you always make everything difficult?”

he doesn’t speak, silently stunned a bit at your outburst. so you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down before you collect your thoughts better.

“i just…i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t mean to yell at you like this is your fault. i…i can’t say i can get into bed with you anymore without wanting us to actually mean something to each other, and i know that’s not what you want—”

“who said that’s not what i want?” he interrupts, looking at you with the first hints of emotions all day. there’s a small etch of frustration building in the twitch of his brows as he continues, “you’ve just decided for me how i feel, and that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

“you’ve never said anything about how you feel,” you shoot back.

“well, neither have you, but that doesn’t mean—”

“i may not have said it, but you’re telling me you never noticed? i do your laundry for you, for crying out loud, alhaitham! and you’ve never so much as dropped a hint!”

“i see,” he nods slowly, going back to the blank slate that is his face. still so infuriatingly neutral and unbothered by it all that you can’t help but lose it a little.

how can he be so unbothered? how can he be so calm and collected when you feel like you might need to check yourself into the bimarstan yourself from the stress of it all? you’ve spent weeks, months in each other’s beds. familiarized yourselves with every part of each other’s bodies. he knows about that birthmark no one else sees, and you trace that mole on his left pec every night before you sleep. you’ve slowly but surely been dying to cross the threshold of just friends (with a few perks, of course), and here he is, nodding along as you tell him you want him, want more of him.

and he’s got nothing to say. because, for some reason, after months of feeling you, spending nights and days tucked away against you, he doesn’t seem to feel the same, so he doesn’t have much to offer you. how can he be so unbothered by your presence after months with you? is it really that easy not to be affected by you?

some part of you lets go of the hold on your control as you snap, “and this is why we can’t have anything more.”

“why’s that?” he tilts his head, voice an uncharacteristic edge to it, “enlighten me.”

“because…because…because you’re you!”

finally, a flash of hurt crosses his face, making itself home in his eyes and forehead as it crinkles at your words. he studies you, quiet. unnervingly quiet that you almost wonder if you’re just deaf.

“are you trying to say there’s something wrong with me?” he presses, looking so lost that you almost feel guilty.

not as much as you feel like you’re about to cry, though.

“yes,” you say without thinking—and the way hurt settles into his eyes more makes you scramble to reword things so you don’t sound like a total jerk, “i mean no! i mean…i mean you’re just you, and you and i won’t mix.”

“we won’t mix,” he repeats, blinking. “interesting—”

you can’t stop yourself from going on the tangent now that you’ve begun, spilling your every thought one by one as you cut him off, “you’re so quiet, and it’s unnerving, you know? you never speak a single thought on your mind, you’d rather just read than talk about your day. and everything you say is so painfully to the point—would it kill you to soften the blow sometimes? people don’t always need the cold, hard truth, okay? sometimes, saying what someone wants to hear can make all the difference. and…and…i don’t know, okay? i need someone who can work with my emotions without applying logic to everything, and that’s not you so…so we have to end things because it’s not fair to either of us. i want it to actually mean something with someone when i’m with them, and you don’t want someone to taint everything with their fragile feelings, so we need to go our separate ways. okay?”

you’re practically panting when you’re done speaking, and alhaitham is just standing, thinking, processing everything you’ve said in that painfully complex head of his.

finally, he breaks the silence and says, “i didn’t know so many things about me bothered you.”

“they didn’t,” you sigh, “not until recently. i guess…i guess it just hit me how difficult it would be to get along in a proper relationship.”

“you know that because what? you think it?”

“i know it because i’m actually looking at things realistically,” you say exasperatedly, “just because we had sex for a few months doesn’t automatically mean we’re a compatible pair.”

“we haven’t really gotten to know much outside of sex to decide that,” he shakes his head, “i’m not understanding how you can so easily dismiss these feelings by deciding it won’t work—”

“look, alhaitham,” you cut him off, voice so uncharacteristically small, he pauses to look at you in shock, “i’ve been slowly losing it for weeks, okay? the last thing i need is for you to make things difficult for me. you’re a good guy, and i really, really wish things were different, but i just need more than what you can give me without completely changing yourself. neither of us should have to compromise anything about ourselves for things to work.”

“you don’t know if i’d be willing to give you what you need or not,” he says quietly, “maybe i wouldn’t be changing a thing.”

“then what about that girl?” you scoff, “the one you said was too emotional for you to handle? you think i’m just being crazy? you said it yourself, so what else should i believe?”

“her? she’s different—”

“why? because she’s not me? because she doesn’t let you in her bed? you’ll find my emotions just as burdensome as hers one day, and then what? we fall back on sex to keep the spark alive?”

something about him is defeated. shoulders slumped, eyes dim, and arms uncrossing to lay limply at his sides. he takes a deep breath before nodding, looking at you so intensely you almost feel frozen in place.

“okay,” he whispers, “if this is what you want. that’s fine.”

his door closes, and your first tear slips.

——————————

nine days. that’s how long it’s been without alhaitham. your mind tells you this is for the best, but your heart is practically on its knees, begging you to reconsider.

a part of you wonders if you were being unfair like he said, judging him before you could properly give him a chance. the other part of you thinks it’s important not to let attachment cloud your better judgment. alhaitham is a good man; there’s no doubt about it.

but is he a man good for you? that part is a difficult question to answer. protecting your heart seems like the safest option. still, you can’t help but miss him horrifically often. it doesn’t hit you how badly you’ve fallen for him until you don’t see him anymore. no more late nights at your place, no more afternoons at his, and no more routine bimarstan visits.

your life has at least gotten a bit easier, though—more funding means more people to hire, and more people to hire means fewer grueling hours for you. though, when you really think about it, you owe this small win to the exact man who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

you intend to drink your woes away, but it seems even in the tavern, you can’t escape him—well, not exactly him, but his roommate. but kaveh still reminds you of alhaitham, so the cleared head you hoped for is out of the question for the night.

the thing about kaveh, though, is that he’s loud. painfully so, and especially when he’s drunk. you could hear him from the other end of teyvat, you think—it’s hard to ignore him even if you want to.

“he’s been insufferable lately,” kaveh huffs, “worse than usual. that awful temper of his needs to really get a check because i’m not sure how much more i can take.”

you didn’t know kaveh was friends with the general mahamatra—seeing cyno loosened up with a deck of tcg cards was not on your list of expectations for the night, but you can’t help but listen in when he adds, “his last few reports to me from his investigations were not up to his…usual work ethic, either. i’m not sure what’s up with him.”

“maybe he’s overworked,” tighnari suggests—you know him as a fellow amurta scholar, recognizing him from your student days. you hadn’t realized alhaitham was friends with such an interesting assortment of people—well, you don’t know if kaveh fits as a friend, but the other two seem like safe bets.

“i don’t think so,” kaveh grumbles, “he’s hardly been sleeping. it’s not like he takes work home with him, you think he’d be the type? but he’s been drinking all the coffee—i actually work into the night. shouldn’t he at least leave some for me?”

“i wonder what’s up with him,” cyno hums thoughtfully, “he must really be brewing in his emotions.”

you snort at the poor pun, watching as the other two around him wince and groan.

finally, kaveh sighs, rubbing his temple as he mumbles, “i don’t know. i’ve never seen him like this. i think it’s serious.”

that makes guilt pool in your gut, making you feel so full that even one sip of your drink feels like too much. you’ve lost all desire to drink your sorrows away—you couldn’t have possibly dampened someone like alhaitham so deeply, could you? he’s always been unaffected by things more than others, and you’d never imagined him to care that deeply about your relationship. if you could call it that, even.

“what do you suppose has brought this on then?” tighnari’s ears twitch in worry, “he’s…not exactly the most emotionally available.”

well, at least you’re not alone in your beliefs.

“i don’t know,” kaveh says quietly—and even if they claim not to be friends, you don’t think they hate each other a fraction as much as they let on because his voice seems to be twinged with clear worry himself as he adds, “his eyes have been red in the mornings. it can’t be something small.”

that’s all you can stomach to hear before you slam your glass down and swiftly make a beeline for the tavern’s exit. some part of you, weak and bound to alhaitham, is unable to listen any longer about his misery. the misery you caused. the misery you brought yourselves both because insecurities ebbed and flowed into the deepest crevices of your mind and rotted away at the reasonable parts.

of course, you’re different. of course, there’s a chance things will go sour. of course, it won’t be easy. but isn’t that the case for every relationship? love was never meant to be a simple feat—otherwise, it would never be half as scary to take the fall.

but you’ve been careful, too careful. so careful that you forgot to let yourself try and be happy, and so careful that you’ve stomped on someone’s feelings enough that his friends exchange their worries over drinks instead of having a good time with him.

so you decide that enough is enough. if alhaitham isn’t meant to be yours, then celestia themselves will have to take him from you—because you’re not risking losing him a second time.

not again.

——————————

contrary to popular belief, alhaitham has never been difficult to track down if you simply know where to look. he might be good at making himself scarce, but there’s only a handful of places he could be. the light of his home shining through the window tells you that your first guess is not very off.

you knock, silently staring at the tips of your shoes as he slowly opens the door.

“hey,” you murmur as soon as the door swings open. you haven’t even looked up yet, but you’re certain he has the same neutral expression on his face. but kaveh is right about one thing—his eyes are definitely a little red.

“hey,” he says quietly.

it’s awkward for a moment. you don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t have any intentions to fill the silence. some time ago, that worried you. his quietness came across as an inability to keep up healthy communication. but now, you miss it—the quiet flip of his pages as he sat beside you, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. the way he let out a soft little breath when you lay on his chest, rubbing his palm slowly in circles against the small of your back. the soft, peaceful silence of his presence.

you never appreciated it enough, the comfort of knowing you’re valued without having to say anything at all.

“listen, i—”

“you don’t have to—”

you both stop, pausing when you speak at the same time.

“go ahead,” you say instantly.

he clears his throat, shaking his head as he swallows. “no,” he mumbles, ever the gentleman, “no, that’s okay. you go first.”

you think your nerves might just explode one by one if you have to wait any longer, so you don’t bother putting up much more of a fight, nodding before fiddling with your fingers as you take a deep breath.

the words spill faster than you can process what you’re saying. a long, jumbled string of thoughts that rattle off your tongue like a dam finally breaking at the leaking crack.

“i was wrong. for all the things i said, i mean. there’s nothing wrong with you, you know? you’re really kind, and you remember the little things, and you always keep your promises, and those are really nice things. and i don’t hate when you’re quiet, by the way. i used to think it bothered me, but i miss it, you know? just having you sit next to me and read and stuff. i guess…i guess i just never bothered trying to think about how to love you the way you needed because i was so busy worrying if you could love me the way i needed and…and i just fucked a lot of things up. i got in my head and made a lot of assumptions that weren’t fair and just…i got cold feet. and i’m sorry. and i love you—really, really love you. all of you. you don’t have to believe me or even say anything at all. i just needed you to know all that because you deserve to.”

he’s silent. you can’t tell whether from being stunned or from disinterest. both are fair, regardless—you think alhaitham could slam the door shut in your face, and you’d deserve it. but he doesn’t. because just as always, he’s your same, kind, gentle alhaitham underneath all of the blunt stoicism.

“i lied,” you whisper, “i do want you to say something. anything.”

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he stares at his feet, still looking as hurt as the day you left him. “you…you just assumed i wouldn’t be able to love you, is what i’m gathering.”

“i just thought…” you swallow thickly, tongue like sandpaper against your dry mouth, “i just thought we were too different.”

“i thought we got along well,” he shrugs, trying to pretend there isn’t as much hurt on his features as there is, “maybe i misread things.”

“no,” you shake your head desperately, “no, i overthought them, that’s all.”

“why did you leave me?” he asks hoarsely, “why couldn’t we have talked about things?”

you want to say because you were a coward, maybe even a hypocrite. you insisted he’d be too constipated emotionally to communicate properly with you, but all you’ve done was decide things for him and avoid the hard, heart-to-heart talk.

really, it’s because you were never brave enough to try and love alhaitham the way he would have loved you. the way he loves you. you were blind to see it—weren’t even willing to believe that he ever would. not until after you let him go and realized what you had. he’d walked you home, made sure you got proper rest, pulled strings, and used up favors just to make things better for you. and you missed all the signs, all because it was so easy to walk away, to label his blunt nature as causal cruelty, to confuse his quietness as disinterest, to assume his logic was the absence of emotion. you never gave him a chance because you were never brave enough to take the fall.

but alhaitham was always ready to catch you, arms aching to wrap around your form and hold you. not because he wanted you to love him, but because all he’s ever wanted was to love you.

you think that’s the difference between the two of you. you’ve always wanted to be loved, and he’s always wanted to love. you’ve always wanted to take and he’s always wanted to give. you’ve always wanted him to be enough, and he’s always wanted you to know you’re enough and more.

it’s too much to tell him though, so you settle on cupping his cheeks and whispering, “because you scare me. the way you make me feel.”

“how do i make you feel?”

not too long ago, you’d think he was asking just to confirm what he already knows. now, you know he’s asking because he needs to hear the words for his own sake. just to be sure. just to ease the uncertainty in his own head.

“you make me feel a lot of things, haitham,” you murmur, “you make me feel happy. appreciated. very pretty. capable. important. sometimes a little dumb,” you giggle as he frowns, squeezing his cheeks as you add, “but only because you’re so smart. i could list a few other things you make me feel, but…they’re not as proper.”

“i thought…just…d-did i do something?” he asks, voice hesitant. there’s a painful, awful squeeze in your heart at his words. but your heart is the last of your worries right now—it’s the least you can do, putting your feelings aside for his own, seeing as you’ve stomped all over his.

so, in an effort to show him that everything is okay, you smile—you’re sure it’s a pathetic, wobbly little thing, but you don’t have time to care. not when he’s right here, under your fingertips, and one possible moment away from slipping away.

a watery chuckle escapes you as you whisper, “no. you didn’t do anything—it was me. but i’m not running away anymore…if you still want me, that is.”

“you’re all i want,” he says instantly. “the only thing.”

“i know,” you breathe, “and you are all i want too.”

you kiss him. because he deserves to feel you choose him, to feel you close the gap and show him you’re here. your lips press gently against his, molding into them like two pieces of a puzzle—except you don’t think neither of you fit anywhere else but each other. incomplete without each other and unable to fit anywhere else. your thumb traces the soft, warm skin of his cheek, soothingly caressing it as if to let him know i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere.

he stumbles back, and you follow him in, pressing against the door of his home just like those days ago before an unwelcomed interruption. this time, though, you think kaveh could freeze outside all you care—you’re not letting anything interrupt this moment.

“i’ve been losing my mind for weeks too,” he mumbles in between gasps for air as you kiss, “just so you know. it wasn’t you alone.”

“that’s good to know,” you hum, grinning against his mouth.

“and i thought i was giving signs,” he adds, “that’s why i went through the trouble to fix your schedule. so i could spend more time with you—i…i apologize if i wasn’t obvious with my intentions.”

“don’t be,” you say softly, “i’m the one who missed them. you did everything right.”

“did i?” he asks, unsure.

you press your lips firmly against his when you hear the crack in his voice, as if sheer touch alone will express the way you feel. maybe it does, though—because he melts against you, letting out a soft moan as your hands travel to his broad chest, feeling the muscled and toned body he hardly hides under that skin-tight shirt.

“i get scared easily,” you whisper, “will you be patient with me?”

“i’m not good at expressing my emotions,” he whispers back, “will you be patient with me too?”

“we can be patient together,” you hum, pecking his lips a few times as he chuckles softly.

“good plan,” he nods, “sounds like it should work.”

“oh, thank you,” you wink playfully, pulling away to wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his as you look at him cheekily, “i’m a bit of a genius.”

“that you are,” he nods, smiling in amusement. and he means it. you’re every bit smart and capable as he makes you feel—inadequacy was never something alhaitham made you feel; it was always something you brought onto yourself. you’re used to shifting the blame, you realize. it’s so easy to blame everything and everyone but yourself for the intrusive thoughts in your head.

but they melt away tonight, one feathered kiss at a time, pressed to your jaw delicately by warm, familiar lips you’d know blind.

“your friends are worried about you, you know. kaveh—”

“please do not mention kaveh’s name right now,” he groans, “i’ll hear all about your alarming story of my friends at the tavern, but right now, i only want to hear you say one name.”

“yours?” you wiggle your brows.

“glad to know we’re on the same page,” he confirms, humming as your hands trail under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his built muscles.

“i don’t want anymore casual sex,” you murmur, pouting, “it’s driving me mad.”

“okay,” he nods, shivering as your palms glide over his nipples as you pull his shirt up, exposing his chiseled abdomen for you to admire, “will girlfriend suffice?”

“girlfriend would be great,” you nod, beaming.

“just so you’re aware, i am very concerned with the emotions of my girlfriend, however heavy they might be. i do still think, however, that nurse was on a…unique realm of her own, though,” he adds the last part with a pointed look.

“don’t mention other women when you just asked me to be your girlfriend,” you huff, “don’t forget who stitches you up. don’t get on my bad side.”

“my apologies,” he laughs.

and then you’re back to kissing him, fervently and so desperately, you think this might be your last day on earth, making the most of it before you’ve breathed your last breath. alhaitham groans into your mouth, lets your hands wander all over him as you feel the tautness of his physique.

it’s not the first time you’ve felt him, but it is the first time you can take all the time you want, memorizing him because he’s yours to keep locked away in your memory.

“i love you,” you pant against his mouth, wet, hot kisses interrupting your sweet confession.

“i,” he kisses your cheek, “love,” a kiss to your other cheek, “you,” a kiss to your nose, “too.”

this time, he leans down and kisses you right over your pulse point, right where your racing heart rate is beating erratically. you gasp when he bites and sucks at the flesh, making you whimper as your knees buckle.

“how much?” you ask, pleading to know.

“enough to lose sleep,” he murmurs, “because my dreams were plagued with you. i couldn’t escape you in waking hours or in slumber. that’s how much you torment me. take over my body and mind. is that what you needed to hear?”

he’s a linguist—sometimes you forget that. perhaps he’s not so bad at saying what you need to hear, after all.

“maybe,” you hum, kissing his cheek, nibbling affectionately at the soft flesh, “you like me that much? how cute.”

“i’ll like you a lot more if you stop teasing,” he grunts, pressing his hot, searing erection against your thigh as your thumbs toy away at his nipples. you gasp when you feel him prod at you, feeling the heat even through the fabric that separates you.

neither of you are patient enough to do this properly right now—but you have plenty of time for that. plenty of time to take it slow, explore each other, and map your bodies in ways you never dared to before. scared to cross that stupid, useless imaginary line you drew for no reason at all. you decide from here on out there are no more lines—just endless sand, your footprints next to his as you trek the path of lovers.

you rub at his hardened cock through his pants, making him grunt before he grabs your hands and pins them over your head.

“i said love you,” he says intensely, eyeing you with a carnal hunger you’ve never seen in him before, “but i didn’t say i’d be patient tonight.”

with that, his free hand tugs down both of your pants—his just enough to free his aching cock, and yours enough to expose your leaking cunt as he teases your clit with the blunt tip of his length. you whimper, bucking your hips into him, feeling the beads of precum spread along your heat as he shudders.

“put it in,” you whine, clutching his shirt with tight fists.

“you’re…not ready yet,” he insists, teeth grit as he gives his all to hold himself back from taking you just like you plead.

but you’re stubborn—and alhaitham? he’s too weak to you to fight you when you are, doomed to give into any and every whim of yours.

“don’t care,” you shake your head, “don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. i just want you—please, please, please haitham.”

that’s all it takes for him to crack—slowly, so, so carefully, he nudges past your wet folds, inching his throbbing cock into you as you gasp at the stretch. this isn’t the first time he’s split you open—but it’s never something you get used to. the burning stretch still feels as new as the first time. he groans, low and breathless, as your walls clamp down on him as he slowly but surely intrudes into your cunt.

“so tight,” he murmurs, voice filled with wonder—like this is the first time he’s ever felt you so raw. maybe it is. he’s never felt you as his, as yours. “does that feel good? do you feel me? what you do to me? and you thought i didn’t feel the same? like i didn’t purposely let blades slice my skin just for an excuse to come find you? feel your touch, watch you worry? just for a moment of your attention? surely, you can’t be so blind.”

his words make your head spin, making you throw it back as a soft escapes you when the last bit of his length slips in, filling you full and to the brim as he nudges at the most sensitive spots inside of you. he’s so deep; you think your lungs are filled with him, like every breath you take is filled with him, him, him.

“yes,” you say through a shaky voice, “yes—so good, you feel so good. i want you, haitham. all of you.”

“you have all of me,” he kisses the words into your neck, “that’s not enough? you want more?”

“yes,” you plead, “more!”

he chuckles, smooth and low and so pretty, you feel an ache in your clit from the sound alone. “well, alright then. more it is—i could never dream of denying such a sweet wish.”

finally, he rolls his hips, all but pulling out completely before pressing back into you, dragging along every ridge of you, nudging his thick tip against the spongey, sensitive at the back of your walls. you’re slack against his door, held up by him and him alone as your body betrays you, unable to keep balance as he fucks into you the way he does.

it’s been nine days without you. the way his hips snap so desperately into you, you’d think he’s a man thirsty, gone a year without rain in the deepest, more treacherous ruins in the desert. all you can do is cling to him, repeat the same mantra of haitham, haitham, haitham—more, please haitham.

he knows your body well. so, so well, he knows exactly how to toy with your clit, thumb finding the sensitive nub, enough pressure to make you whine with a jolt, but not enough to let you fall over the edge just yet—not until he allows it.

“i love you,” he punctuates with a roll of his hips, “repeat that. so i know you believe it. so i know you believe me.”

“p-please,” you gasp, tugging at his hair, “i…i need to c-cum—”

“say it,” he demands.

“you love me—oh,” you cut yourself off with a sharp breath, his thumb abusing your clit in faster circles.

“again,” he says firmly.

“you love me,” you whimper, “you…you love me. only me.”

“good,” he nods, groaning as you squeeze around him at the praise, “and don’t forget it. not for a second.”

“l-love you too,” you stutter, voice cracking as he rolls his hips unforgivingly, the friction making your mind fog with pure lust. “love you so, so much.”

that makes him inhale sharply, breath catching in his throat. his head falls to your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin as he moans lowly, hips sloppy and ungraceful in their pace but never failing in precision to angle right into your sweet spot. his thumb rolls circles into your clit, fast and desperate to send you over the edge so he can follow.

and you do—you fall off the edge so fast, so hard, your nails dig blunt, raw crescent moons into his skin as you arch your back off the door and cry his name. luckily for alhaitham, his house is built conveniently enough that he has no close neighbors. no one to hear such filthy sounds right against the door for them to witness just by passing by. no one should be at this hour—but even if they were, you hardly could bring yourself to care.

“c-cumming,” you wail, “cumming, haitham.”

“so beautiful,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, voice strained as he chases his own orgasm, “can’t…can’t believe you’re mine. mine.”

it’s like the realization that you’re his is what pushes him past the edge, his cock twitching with hot, thick ropes of cum into your abused cunt and painting the walls white as soon as he repeats the word mine.

mine, mine, mine—he doesn’t stop repeating it even as he fucks himself into you and works himself through his high. you can feel the wet, messy trail of his cum and your slick leaking down your thighs, so filthy, so lewd, so devastatingly raw.

“yours,” you confirm tiredly, kissing his head as he pants into your neck, muffled moans pressed against your skin as you soothe him while he falls apart against you. “all yours. not going anywhere, i promise. i promise.”

finally, he slumps against you, panting as he tries to catch his breath, sweaty and tired but never unsatisfied.

“if you leave me again,” he quietly admits, “i think i’ll go mad.”

“then i won’t,” you say gently, stroking his sweaty locks.

“i love you,” he reminds you once more, “do you believe me?”

“i do,” you nod, smiling like he’s handed you the sun, “and i love you too. do you believe me?”

“i do,” he hums, wrapping himself around you tighter.

there’s a jiggle of the doorknob behind you, followed by an incoherent, slurred string of curses. alhaitham deflates against you, looking up at you tiredly. you throw your head back and laugh, gleeful, and so, so in love.

“i’m tired of him,” he grumbles.

“let him off easy this once,” you brush back his hair, “it’s thanks to him that i came to see you tonight.”

“then i suppose just this once, i won’t leave him out to freeze,” he relents.

you realize for a moment, alhaitham had never drawn the line in the first place. perhaps it was always just you, making rules in your head when all he ever did was want you from the start. he waited so patiently for you, so you cup his cheeks and pull him closer, giving him one more firm kiss as a reward for all you put him through. he pulls away, dazed as he stares at you with unfocused eyes.

“i’ll give you another like that if you run me a warm bath,” you say cheekily.

“do i get to join this bath,” he raises a brow, eyeing you in amusement as his hands rub soothingly into your hips.

you pretend to think for a moment, mockingly tapping your chin in deep thought before you murmur, “okay, fine. but no funny business.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it—”

“hello?” kaveh’s slurred call interrupts, followed by rough knocking.

“he can freeze,” alhaitham says bitterly.

“don’t you dare!” you gasp, fighting back a laugh as he looks at you miserably.

well…….what was supposed to be maybe 4-5k words at best has…..gotten quite out of hand LOL. 14k words later i present to you my official love letter to alhaitham. anyway i suppose this fic stems from sometimes wondering if i would be compatible with the characters i enjoy. but the question is not whether or not you’re compatible, but whether or not you’re willing to put in the work to make compatibility. and alhaitham would certainly do that. anyway!!! i hope you enjoyed. i’m not sure if many peiple will read this, but if you do, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! giving you all a hug and reminding you that your favs would 100% want you <3

#writing tag #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut

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anantaru · 2 days

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ cw. handjob, overstimming & edging kuni <3 a/n. this is a rewrite, fem! reader

with all the talks of not being able to get crushed by anything at all, you take it as a challenge to get your boyfriend beneath your warm skin, writhing and begging, ghosting your hot, wet mouth right on his tip yet never touching it. not once.

"hmm do you think.." you whisper and cover his oozy cockhead with your breath as scaramouche forgets all about his previous claims— wondering why he was tensing and twitching up onto his knees.

a temperate fling of air softly cradles his teary cheeks as you carried on with your intentionally slowed sentence— which you knew would only make the man under you grow more frustrated and most importantly, desperate.

"..you can keep going for me? i might let you cum then, ‘promise."

and he heaves and sniffles at the sharpened punctuation of your last two syllables, because scaramouche wanted to keep going, really and he hoped you saw it too, his dedication— how he could get used to this.

he was looking forward to make you all happy, cum on your knuckles and turn you delighted at how good he was behaving for you— for his sweet angel that had turned his body upside down with nothing but your mesmerizing touch.

"of— of course i can! who do you think i am?!" he barks back, his chest glistening with his sweat and exposing his defined build, "what kind of question is that?!"

you share a look before he sneakily jolts his hips up into your stilled hand— holding him close, really close to the point where he whines when his little thrusts wouldn't go far.

scaramouche thought your grip on his shaft must've been the hardest one you've ever had on him, or maybe it was because of how many times you had already jerked him off and then abruptly stopped the second he would've approached his climax.

and for you? well, you’ve been devilishly enjoying this, salivating at the sight of your lover being so needy and overstimulated because of you— the thought of his cum being all out, balls emptied and the taste, you cannot wait.

kuni wants to cum so badly, showing you with a rhythm of little pants and grunts, "please.. pleasepleaseplease, i’ll do anything, ‘swear" and his begs were burning sharp daggers into your soul and pride— finally, you've got him.

it just feels, really good. outstanding.

he wonders if you'd let him release on your hand and have him ruin you with his creamy cum until it's all slithering down your knuckles in thick spurts, making a mess and then watching you lick it all up— yet only if you let him of course.

fuck, he hopes you do.

with certain, having someone like scaramouche, a previous harbinger, hopelessly try to fuck the tiny hole of your hand while you’re pressing him down was beyond lewd and filthy in your eyes— and it turned you on too, no, it was quite beyond that, because seeing him like that made you grind your thighs together to lift the heavy tension between your legs and your soaked cunt.

by now, your panties surely are sticking to your folds and gathering all the liquids on the fabric, struggling to hold back and beginning to dream about how he'd slide himself into your tight cunt.

archons, you’re going to fuck him real good afterwards, ride him into the mattress and pepper him with sweet sweet kisses for how good he was behaving tonight— minus the slip ups when he attempted to make your hand move up and down his cock, earning some sort of friction in tune with moans dancing with hunger.

but he's cute, your darling kuni, your boyfriend who only let you do this to him because it's you who he fiercely worshipped.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x you #scaramouche smut #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you

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megistusdiary · 3 days

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𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙡𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 ༊*·˚

i wanted to make another silly combo post, so here we are. just a dump of ideas about genshin wlw threesomes i'd love to see ♡

warnings: smut (mdni), fem!reader, wlw content, threesomes, straps, blowjobs, cunnilingus, blindfolds, bondage

long post utc

1. jean and navia

"so pretty." navia coos, stroking your cheek, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. your eyes flit downwards, looking at jean kneeling between your legs, two fingers pressed into you.

navia smiles gently, kissing your forehead as she tugs at the hem of your shirt. "can i take this off?" she asks you, and you nod for her, letting her pull it over your head.

jean sucks on your clit, pulling your attention back to her as you let out a sharp gasp. your thighs threaten to close around her head, but she maintains a soft hold on them, keeping you in place.

she looks up at you, leaning back to lick a slow stripe up your pussy. she kisses your clit gently, standing up. "i think she's ready." jean tells navia who gives her a giddy smile.

they ease you down onto the bed, the three of you stripping down completely as jean settles behind you while navia preps her strap. you eye it cautiously, noting that while its girth seems smaller, the length is rather precarious.

jean senses your hesitancy, gently turning your cheek to face her. "it's okay, we'll be gentle." she whispers, kissing your cheek. her hands trail across your body, teasing your breasts as her lips meet yours.

navia runs the faux cock across your pussy, collecting the slick leaking from you. she strokes the silicone, spreading your sticky wetness over the material, the sound penetrating the air.

jean can feel the heat of embarrassment blooming beneath your skin and she pulls away, letting you catch your breath. "there's no need to be shy."

"we think it's cute." navia pipes up, pushing your thighs up to spread you out. "so pretty." she smiles at you, blue eyes sparkling. she waits for you to nod at her, allowing her to press into you.

jean feels one of your hands gripping her biceps, the other clawing at the bedsheets. she slides her left hand to yours, clasping them together to keep you grounded.

your hand grips hers tightly, face turning to push into her shoulder while navia eases into you. they praise you so sweetly, telling you how beautiful you look, how good you are for them, how pretty you look under them.

jean feels you melt against her, trembling once navia's pelvis touches yours. "good girl." and you can't even tell who's talking anymore.

2. dehya and beidou

"oh, fuck. that's it, sweetheart." beidou grunts, her hand firmly gripping your head while you choke on her thick strap. she adores your little noises: every time you gag, when you whimper, when your hands feebly grip her thighs. you're just so cute.

"taking our captain here like such a good girl, huh?" dehya grins, fixing her own strap to her pelvis, opening the bottle of oil from the table. she slides her hand across the material of the faux cock on her waist.

your eyes flit between beidou and dehya, your nose pressed to the captain's pelvis, tufts of hair tickling your skin. she pets your head, pushing you to take more of her.

dehya takes you by surprise, propping your hips up and spreading your thighs for her. she slides her still slick fingers over your pussy, laughing. "archons, she's dripping, beidou."

your face heats up with embarrassment, whining around the cock stuffed down your throat. beidou shushes you sweetly, petting your head and keeping you firmly on her cock.

dehya's fingers slide into you from behind, and you moan, fingers digging into beidou's muscular thighs as your eyes flutter shut with the stretch.

"how's she feel?" beidou asks, shallowly fucking your throat.

"tight. loosen up a little for me." she pats your ass, crooking her fingers into your g-spot, gently rubbing against it as your feet kick against the bed. she gently eases you into an orgasm, a strange contrast to how roughly beidou is treating your throat.

once you've come back down from your high, dehya's strap is sliding over your sensitive cunt, rubbing circles into your clit. her thumbs spread your folds open, smirking at how you clench around nothing from the way she exposes you.

she slides the faux cock in at the same time beidou pulls out just to hear you scream, face falling to the bed. once you've caught your breath, beidou is back to fucking your throat.

they maintain their pace together, keeping you full at one end (at least) at all times. your hands claw at the bedsheets, tears pooling in your eyes as they fuck you harder.

it's clear how they enjoy your squirming, cooing about how cute you are, how adorable their pretty girl is. how precious you are when you come for them.

dehya angles herself directly into your g-spot, feeling you tighten up around her and tremble on the bed. she slides out carefully, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck. "made such a mess of my cock, you should see it." she whispers to you as you whimper.

beidou pulls you off her cock, eyeing your spit coating her as she wraps a hand around her base, spreading the glossy spit. she lifts your chin up to face her with a grin. "don't fall asleep on us just yet, i still get my turn to fuck you."

3. xianyun and ningguang

"sweetheart, be still for miss xianyun." the tianquan chastises you, and the older woman smiles, holding you against her chest.

"that's alright, lady ningguang. one is rather... adept at handling misbehavior." xianyun reaches down and pinches your clit with the bends of her fingers to ensure you avoid her talons.

you sink lower on the strap she's buried into you. "my, you really are talented." ningguang comments, balancing her pipe in her left hand.

xianyun smiles, holding your thighs open and bouncing you on her faux cock, hearing you whine with each little thrust. "it comes with time. though, i've heard plenty of rumors about the tianquan's very own affairs."

ningguang laughs, taking a drag of her pipe, blowing the smoke into your face, setting it off to the side. "fair enough. i've had my share of traipsing around with pretty women. but you've reduced her to a babbling little toy." she hums, cupping your cheek.

you nuzzle into her touch so sweetly, looking up at her with soft eyes.

"as one has said before, there is much we can all stand to learn, and one is happy to share with you." xianyun bounces you harder, hips thrusting up into you as you cry a mix of their names. "go on, you've been a good girl." she whispers, and, like a trained puppy, you cum around her, shaking in her lap.

xianyun eases you through the rest of your orgasm before sliding you off her strap and into ningguang's lap instead. "aren't you a pliant little thing for us?" ningguang slides her thumb over your lip, watching your tongue dart out over the pad of her finger. she smirks, sliding it into your mouth and holding your tongue down.

xianyun eases you up, grinding you over ningguang's strap, coating the material in the remnants of your orgasm, letting you hear the wet noises of your own slick. when she slides into you, the stretch leaves you reeling.

it's not quite as long as xianyun, but she's chosen a much thicker cock, and you grasp desperately at her shoulders, head tipping back onto xianyun's chest.

ningguang bounces you in a similar manner to xianyun, but different enough that it feels novel. her pelvis grinds into your clit everytime your hips meet hers, and xianyun ensures you feel it by grinding your body down onto the tianquan.

xianyun's fingers dance up your throat, tugging your head closer to kiss her while ningguang watches rather amused. xianyun is tender but firm, holding your jaw in her taloned grip.

ningguang grinds the tip of her strap into your g-spot, feeling you tighten up around her, babbling into xianyun's mouth, begging to cum. merciful as she is, she gives you permission, feeling you soak her cock and drip down onto her pelvis.

they coo at you, petting your head and commending you on being their perfect little pet. and just when you think they're finished, ningguang slides you back to xianyun, fixing her strap and standing to slide it over your lips while xianyun's tip pops back into your pussy.

"such a good girl for us. but so messy." ningguang tuts. "clean up your mess, sweet girl." she grips your head, sliding her dick into your mouth while xianyun slides back into you.

the sensation at the same time along with the taste of yourself on ningguang is all too much. you sniffle and tear up when she teases the back of your throat while they use you, but it only seems to amuse and goad them on.

you are their perfect toy, after all.

4. yae miko and yelan

"you know, i'm quite partial to red and pink, but i can't deny how... fetching blue looks on her." miko mused, running a hand up the blue rope tied on your thigh.

the blindfold blocks you from seeing either woman, but yelan laughs. "what can i say? i know what my girl looks good in."

"oh, your girl? is that so?" miko asks, and you whimper when she leans down over you. "is that true? are you hers?"

before you can answer, yelan is on your other side. "you know the right answer, don't you?"

both women are equally menacing in their own right, and you feel overwhelmed. "i- i'm... both... both of yours." your voice trembles, and the women lean up, saying nothing before laughing.

"what a little slut. playing around with two women like this." miko tuts.

"wouldn't be surprised if we're not the only ones." yelan scoffed and you cry out at them.

"no! just you, i swear-" your voice is cut off into a soft wheeze when someone's hand closes around your throat.

"you speak when spoken to, pet." miko warns, leaning down to nip at your shoulder with sharp teeth. she turns you over onto your front, adjusting the ropes to have your face shoved into the pillows while your ass was perked up for them.

"aww, look at you. all wet for us like an eager little pet." miko slaps your clit with her palm, enjoying your little whimpers and futile squirming. her fingers slide into you briefly before withdrawing, and then you feel them pressed onto your lip. "open." she commands, sliding the slick digits over your tongue.

you feel someone else's fingers on your cunt, pinching your clit before sliding two into you, making you moan around the ones in your mouth.

you assume it's yelan, fucking you rather harshly with her fingers, squeezing your thighs and slapping your ass while miko slides onto the bed in front of you.

she cradles your head, pulling your blinded body closer to her, making you kiss her pussy and feeling you moan against her. "oh, good girl, come on, eat me out." she coos and you feel yelan shove your head down.

"go on. that's what you're made for, isn't it?" yelan snaps, letting miko use your tongue, getting your cheeks and lips all messy.

yelan busies herself with sliding three fingers into you now, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being pushed in and out before she robs you of your orgasm. you pull away to try and beg her, but miko is quicker, shoving you back down to her cunt and effectively silencing you.

yelan taps the tip of her strap onto your cunt, smacking it loud enough for the three of you to hear.

"isn't that a little big for our poor little pet?" miko gasps, faux sympathy for you in her voice as she grinds herself on you like you're her toy.

yelan grips your head, pulling you up and hearing you pant softly. "what do you think, pet? am i too big for you?" she asks.

"no, no! i can take it!" you wail. "please, please fuck me-"

your back arches, and you scream when yelan slides completely in, feeling you clench around her while the women above you delight in your squirming and crying behind your blindfold.

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toruslvt · 3 days

Text

⋆ AGE GAP WITH ZHONGLI AND WELT

mdni. gn!reader. repost

Zhongli's thoughts shouldn't all be around you, he knows it's wrong, but you look so pretty sucking his cock.

the cute assistant hu tao hired to help alongside the older man; and Zhongli, for once, thinks it was for the best once he's balls deep into you, bent oh so pliantly over the counter for him to fuck your tight young hole.

he feels like a pervert, he really shouldn't be having such lewd vivid pictures of you when there's an immense age gap between you both, but your moans are like music to his ears, ripping grunts from himself each time your eager hole clenches around him, purposely sucking him deeper, “you love to be fucked by an old man such as myself, don't you?” is what he always says, hiding the fact that it's Zhongli the one that enjoys ruining you whole.

Welt's pent up stress can become unbearable sometimes, between his astral express duties and personal matters, you come in like a blessing.

he thinks you're so cute, always eager to help whoever's in distress, and welt's grateful you took a certain liking to him. in everyone's eyes you're another youngster under the man's wing, giggly and attentive to what he says, but the thing is, no one is aware of the sweet sounds coming from your lips as he fucks you all night in his private quarters.

eyes crossed and tongue lolled out is how you end your day, getting fucked with precise and expert thrusts into the mattress with your legs dangling from each one of his shoulders. for a man his age, he sure got stamina, making you scream his name between the huffed pants he lets out. Welt's obsessed with your young and free nature, giving himself the pleasure to mold you with his cock.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #zhongli smut #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr welt x reader #welt yang smut #welt yang x reader

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angelsrcute · 1 day

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LOVE ME WHILE YOUR WRISTS ARE BOUND. 𝜗𝜚

𝜗𝜚 — who'd lay their eyes on the prettiest person, you. Shining brighter than the others, and where do shiny and valuable things belong? in a box. According to a legend, sirens sing in a sweet voice to lure sailors into the water or just create chaos and destruction of their ships.

𝜗𝜚 — Who fell in love with you at first sight, wanting to possess you. So, while you were exploring a deserted island at night, you heard a sweet lullaby, a guy sitting on a rock. You couldn't help but be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Such a captivating appearance, not like some monster– but very divine? You felt like something was messing with your brain.

𝜗𝜚 — You don't really remember why you're laying on the ground nor why you're getting fucked by someone. Shit, he's hot anyways, you wonder what happened to your ship. Legs thrown over their shoulders as they fuck you, you bet you wouldn't be able to walk straight tomorrow. Now that you think….why does the person look different as if they're not human at all. It's nothing, you think. You're worrying too much.

𝜗𝜚 — Who pepper kisses on your body, worshipping you like some treasure, fangs biting down on your skin, drawing blood. Ouch, their tongue licking up the blood, savouring your taste. Webbed hands digging into your waist.

𝜗𝜚 — Who fill you up so much that there's a visible bulge on your stomach, webbed hands pressing down, making you whimper. Your whole body feels numb. Their pretty mate, no one else's, a blush forming on their face at the thought of fucking a baby into you. You'd stay with them forever then!

𝜗𝜚 — Who's going to keep you in their little home, after all, humans are quite weak and die easily. You wouldn't be able to survive in the depths of the ocean. Well, who cares if they have to mess with your memories, making you think that you're their pretty little wife. You don't need anyone else but them right? The love of your life, perhaps you'd learn to love them without all these hallucinations. As for what happened to your ship, you're currently missing.

"Mine, my human, mine to love, I wouldn't let anyone else steal my treasure."

Whoever you think fits.

#dom character #sub reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #twst smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #twisted wonderland smut #honkai star rail x reader #jjk smut #jujitsu kaisen smut #obey me smut #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #tw dark content #tw mind control #𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

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chuusmuts · 1 day

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sleepover at your boyfriend!kazuha's house

smut. fingering (bcs i suck at writing other than this), (slightly) possessive/yandere kazuha. not proofread.

no words about gensin. just going crazy over an's new commissioned song.

you were supposedly having a sleepover at your boyfriend!kazuha's house. with his suggestion, both of you came to a decision to have a deep late night talk before sleeping. whilst you were engrossed in his tale, you didn't realise his hand was playing with the band of your pants. his mind had become a little fuzzy after having the need to touch you, but you looked so cute listening to him, with you biting your lower lip so he couldn't just put an end to his story.

as he continued talking, his hand slowly creeped up inside your pants. and as soon as you felt his fingertips brush your cunt, you let out a quiet gasp as you fought the urge to buck your hips and moan. slowly, his fingers grazed lightly on your pussy before starting to rub your clit while his other hand rested on your hip. in this moment, he was still talking, but not about his previous story, he was whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

your pants was pulled passed your butt as he worked his fingers on your pussy like magic, stroking your clit in a slow motion and teasing your fold. your hand was put over your mouth to hide your moans, but oh, you really couldn't hold it anymore as your breath kept hitching. his fingers felt so good, too good, and the way he whispered sweet nothings into your ear only made you even wetter. after a period of time, you struggled to keep your legs open as they kept trembling.

kazuha could feel it, how wet you were and how tight and hot you were down there, your body practically begging for his attention. he leaned down and nuzzled his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent and sucking on your skin, leaving a few obvious hickeys before moving up to your ear. his voice was low and husky as he spoke in a gentle manner, barely above a whisper. "sweetheart, i can't stop myself from touching you. you're so unbelievably hot and sexy."

he really tried to resist himself every time he saw you wearing nothing but only a thin layer of white shirt and short pants, no panties, no bra and whatsoever. and tonight, he finally snapped. as he moved his finger up and down, he curled his fingers and put more pressure, his nails scraping against your skin. it was almost unbearably intense, but he knew you could handle it because you're such a good girl all for him and seeing you squirming and writhing beside him, still trying to hold back your moans, he couldn't resist but to plunge two fingers into your tight, wet hole and teased your sweet spot in which he succeeded making you whimper.

he groaned, unable to help himself, as he continued to move his fingers inside you, feeling your walls squeeze around him. his fingers twisted and turned inside you, his thumb brushing against your g-spot, causing an involuntary shiver to run through your body. he looked up at you again, meeting your eyes as he did so, and his lips parted slightly as he watched you squirm and writhe. the thought of filling your hole with his cock, filled him with an insatiable need that he just couldn't ignore. as he began to thrust his fingers faster and harder, he spoke once more, this time his voice deeper and rougher than ever before. it was full of raw, unbridled passion as he whispered in your ear, "i want to fuck you badly, baby. please let me take you right here and now, i need you so much."

hearing no response from you pissed him just a little. but when he heard you accidentally let out a clear and loud whimper, calling his name, he took the initiative and wasted time getting on top of you, straddling you while still scissoring your sensitive cunt. the sight of your face contorted in pleasure was amazing and he knew it wouldn't be long before you cum on his fingers hence why he plunged the third finger, successfully making you moaned his name again.

breathing heavily, his eyes never left yours as he fucked you with his fingers. he could feel your walls closing around him, the heat of your body enveloping him as he slid in and out of you. with each stroke, he felt his own arousal grow, his cock hardening beneath his boxers. he swore he could hear your heartbeat echoing in his ears, a steady drumming that matched the rhythm of his fingers. he loved how you always seemed to respond to his touch, especially when he played with your sensitive spots, he loved it when body shook with anticipation.

he crashed his lips into yours roughly, his tongue lapping at your lips hungrily before inviting his tongue inside your mouth and playing with yours as he continued to work his fingers inside you. with his free hand, he reached down and grabbed your thigh, holding it firmly in place as he thrusted his fingers deep into your pussy, making sure they hit your g-spot with each movement. he groaned into the kiss as he felt his balls slapping against your thighs with each thrust. a sweet, adorable scream keened from your throat when you finally came from your high only to come out in a muffled moan into his mouth. you gripped on his shoulder tightly as cum spilled nonstop onto his fingers.

his lips curved into a smile as he felt you clenched down on his fingers, your muscles tightening around him. he looked down at your face, your eyes closed as you cried out in pleasure before kissing you again. his tongue slid along the inside of your mouth as he pulled out his fingers and shoved them into your mouth, making you tasted yourself and choked slightly. he grinned at you as you licked his fingers obediently before getting off of you, taking his boxers off and revealing his already rock hard cock. grabbing your clothes harshly, he took them off before tossing them to who knows where.

he spread your legs wider and positioned his leaking cock at your entrance, teasing you a little and you couldn't help yourself but to moaned unabashedly, rutting and bucking your hips. his thumb found its way on your clit again giving you more pleasure by feverishly rubbing on it. as he buried his cock inside you, his lips connected with yours once more, muffling any of your moans trying to get out while still stroking your clit. you could feel the fatness of his cock stretching you out and filing you up as he began to thrust slowly, wanting you to adjust to his size beforehand as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

his big and strong hands held you close, keeping you close to him as his heart beat wildly while looking down at you. your soft breasts pressed against his chest as he held you in his arms, his thumbs rubbing against your clit and your inner thighs. his eyes burning with passion as he thrusted inside you, his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust. he smirked as he watched you try to keep up with his pace, your hips bucking and rolling against his as he continued to push his cock into your womb. the sight of your face was undeniably mouth-watering, your face flushed with pleasure and your eyes half-closed as he continued to thrust, your body shaking with the force of his movements.

your body was so perfect, so fucking beautiful. he loved everything about you, how your breasts jiggled with each movement, and how your nipples hardened under his touch. he stroked your clit with his thumb as your moans grew louder and louder. when you moaned loud, very loud, he just knew he had hit the right spot. you whined, your legs around his waist loosening though he quickly grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him so he could get his cock deeper inside your tight pussy until it hit the spongy spot inside you.

he groaned in bliss, his voice low and rough as he gazed at you with his eyes dark and hungry. leaning in closer, his lips barely brushed against your ear as he spoke. "fuck, baby, you are so fucking hot. i can't wait to fill you up with my seed." he grounded his teeth together, his eyes flashing as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful motion that the bed made a creak sound. "please, please, please let me fuck you so hard. i need to fill you up with my cum, to feel you squirt on my cock, to see your tits bouncing as I fuck you." he moaned.

feeling your walls clamp down more on his cock, his movements began to get sloppier and he could feel a knot forming in his lower stomach. you squirmed more underneath him, and your body shook violently, your nails dugging into his shoulders, and a loud scream of his name left your lips as you reached your high. he picked up his pace pace again after you squirted, and shortly after, a load of hot seed was shot into your womb as he squeezed your breasts to relieve the pain from his body.

the feeling of his cum shooting into your womb was indescribable. sweat covered his body and his breathing was heavy as he felt his entire body trembled with the power of his orgasm. he collapsed on top of you, burying his face between your tits, his body shaking with the intensity of his climax as he continued to shoot his seed into your womb. he looked up at you, his eyes still filled with passion and desire and his heart pounding wildly. his cock continued to twitch and throb as he tried to catch his breath. he chuckled lightly, his voice hoarse and low as he looked at you. "i think i might have fucked you too hard," he said, his brow furrowed in concern as he looked up at you through the space between your boobs. "are you okay? do you think you can go for round two?"

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin imagines #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha imagines #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x female reader #genshin kazuha #sleepover at boyfriend!kazuha's house

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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 3 days

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⋆˚࿔ 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

synopsis: how genshin men would degrade you <3

tags: degrading (obviously) facesitting, mentions of gagging, oral, penetration, explicit

wrd cnt: 800+

a/n: cooking up an hsr version soon

Ayato is always complete and proper in his semantics, he's fair and he loves to praise you.

But tonight...you stretched his patience too thin and his only choice was to stretch your little cunt til you couldn't talk back anymore. "Fuck, you're tight, honey.. this is what you want, isn't it?"

This day was big for Ayato, but you just had to keep pestering him with question after question. Usually, he'd entertain your playfulness but tonight was stressful. So he took it out on you instead. Call it karma?

"Clenching from my vulgarity..what a whore you are." He whispered into your ear, bending you across his desk, while all the guests sat outside having tea while you got fucked hard from behind by Ayato, who put a hand over your mouth, warning you greatly to stay quiet and stop those slutty moans of yours.

"Am I wrong or, did you not hear me? Ayato said lowly, slowly growing more and more annoyed and irritated at your misbehavior.

"Do you need me to gag that mouth of yours, y/n?” Sounding more like a promised threat than a question.

The only way you can get yourself out of this is giving Mr. Kamisato all he asks for and more, and be an obedient girl.

Nothing could really piss off Alhaitham as much as you, but not in the way that's most obvious.

He hated how much you doubted yourself, looked down on yourself, and harbored deep annoyance of the fact you didn't love the things about you he can't get enough of.

Sure, he could give you a little cute pep-talk but, fucking it into you is the approach that'll really make it stick. Some reverse psychology maybe?

After hearing you badmouth yourself for what felt like hours, he's stripping you of all your clothes and sitting you onto the couch armrest, forcing you to look him in the eyes; daring you to say those things again.

"Fucking pathetic is what you are. You're lucky I'm not fucking that stupid shit out of your mouth". He said, grabbing your hips as he sat down, positioning your cunt over him.

Not sure if you should just hover, his large hand lands on your ass, surely leaving a handprint.

"Sit down y/n." Alhaitham groaned, pulling your hips down onto his face and swallowing your clit with his tongue; his eyes never leaving you and your perfect tits.

Wriothesley loved showering you with compliments and nothing but the sweetest of words, but sometimes he just can't hold back all the filthy things he knows you want from him.

Oftentimes he's just worried you're gonna start crying, but fuck is it hot when you do.

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin your pretty little mouth." He breathes out, watching you kiss up his cock. On your knees and eyes up is his favorite way to gaze at you, and it's just so easy for him to fuck your face.

"Wrio...you said-"

"Sluts don't get to talk." He cuts you off, his brows raised in amusement as he lights up a cigarette and throws the lighter somewhere, taking his cock in one hand to push past your lips as the other keeps the cig inbetween his fingers.

"Open that dirty fucking mouth of yours... can't take it all of a sudden?" He says, shoving it deep into your throat while his hand grips the back of your head, letting you take it at your own pace before he throws his head back and thrusts his hips up as he hears all the sloppy noises, waiting for your glossy eyes to make an appearance.

Now, Childe really tries to be sweet and praiseful, but he loves how disgusting and filthy you can be, and it's even better when he gets to tells you how much he loves it.

Wearing a new outfit wasn't something you expected to lead to something like this.

Definitely not being put in a tight mating press by your lover, pressed into the couch cushions while he left marks all over your neck and collar, biting and sucking places anyone could see to leave no guessing who's you belong to.

"Look at your thighs...they're just spilling out. You look like a filthy slut, do you want me to fuck you like one? Is that it?" He asked, pulling and smacking the material of your stocking that you didn't think too much of, but the minute he saw you walk out in them his cock wanted to spring out and get in between your thighs. But your pussy was an even better spot.

Deep and deeper be thrusted, the springs in the furniture squeaking while your voice almost did the same, cursing and moaning his name while he kept you close. Small protests for him to be quick fell from your lips, urging him so the two of you could get to where you were headed prior to this..."short" break.

"Are you gonna be a good girl or a fucking headache?" He asked, only fucking your harder and slower, a hand finding to squeeze the sides of your neck.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin impact smut #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #degredation kink #childe smut #alhaitham smut #wriothesley smut #ayato smut

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strawchocoberry · 1 day

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00:45 am

We can make it freaky

Your smile, half-hidden by your phone as you look into the camera, is adorable. His arms are wrapped around your waist, while you’re sitting on his lap. His head rests on your shoulder and you touch his cheek with your palm. A seemingly innocent cute little photo. Nobody would have guessed that underneath your skirt you’re wearing nothing at all. But that’s not the most embarrassing thing about this photo, is it? Oh no, no, no. It’s the way your pussy is clenching around his big fat cock, buried deep within you, while you pose for the photo. It’s the way his cock is so hard right now, you can’t help but squirm in his lap. If he weren’t holding your waist, you would already be bouncing on him. “Patience, my little slut. You’ll ride my cock soon enough. But first, finish taking those photos, baby.”

blue lock. MICHAEL KAISER . ITOSHI SAE . alexis ness . BAROU SHOEI . SHIDOU RYUSEI . karasu tabito . yukimiya kenyu . chris prince || genshin impact. TARTAGLIA . ALHAITHAM . AYATO . KAEYA . neuvillette . wriothesley . DILUC . cyno . HEIZOU . thoma . dainsleif . pantalone || honkai star rail. AVENTURINE . JING YUAN . BLADE . SUNDAY . dr. ratio . boothill . DAN HENG IMBIBITOR LUNAE . argenti . gallagher . sampo

#୨୧｡˚₊♡꒰ strawchocoberry ꒱♡₊˚｡୨୧ #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut

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melodic-haze · 10 hours

Note

HIIIII, I NEED MORE SUB ARLECCHINO CONTENT PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU 😭😭

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader pt. 3

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Dacryphilia, squirting, other than that it's soft sex 🤷‍♀️

☆ — NOTES: THANK YOUBFOR GIVING ME ANOTHER REASON TO WRITE HER LOLLLLL

☆ — PARTS: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (you are here)

Saur I've raved on about ROUGH sex Arlecchino but yk what's special? Soft sex with Arlecchino

This woman's been through HELL in her life. Even if she was already "cold and unfeeling", she describes herself, there's only so much a person like that can take before she reaches a breaking point. Really, she definitely already has, the poor girl

She's shut herself off from anyone that isn't in her inner circle, and even THEN they still find it hard to get her to open up

But like. They're not you so 😜

I feel like as much as she is all for it rough, she's actually much more hesitant to recieve a gentler touch. Kindness and love in any form is smth she isn't used to—aside from her children, the one figure that supplied her with that is dead with her past. Being with you was already enough of a stretch, now you want to show her how much you care for her? It's.. scary, like a sudden blackout as a child

Reassure her that it'll all be okay, please. Tell her that you'll take care of her properly and that she can let go of the walls she's built around herself this whole time to defend herself. Give her an easy out if she genuinely isn't ready for such a different form of an emotionally-charge exchange. When she's ready, she'll give you a wordless nod before tugging at your clothes

You take it slow with her by hugging her at first, letting her settle down like you're lulling a scared, hurt predator back into safety. Your hands slowly and carefully wander around her body as your lips press soft kisses on pale skin, with the exposed areas increasing as you take your time in taking her clothes off

She reciprocates in action, though her hands often still on your skin, lightly squeezing you as if there's a chance that you might fade away and this has been nothing but a delusion of hers. Take one of her hands in yours and press a kiss on her palm as you reassure her that you are right here and you aren't leaving her and that you are going to show her how much you love her to the point where she doesn't even know what to do w herself :(

As you take your time undressing each other, you lead her to the bed and sit her down on the edge by kissing her and pushing her down, and you feel her hum as she tries to settle her breathing. She lets you take the lead, not just because she gives you all the power over her behind closed doors but because she's in unfamiliar territory—hell, even when I said she needs it HARD to actually feel it, just the soft, caring gestures you're making is enough to make her shiver in need for you

Neither of you knew just how much of an effect it would have on her, but it's VERY clear when it's as it somehow her sensitivity had gone up quite a few levels from the way she's practically whimpering at you whenever you praise her for being so good for you.....that you're going to take such good care of her.......that you won't ever leave her alone..........

You kiss every inch of her body, leaving marks here and there against gorgeous pale skin. You mark her up from top to bottom, switching back and forth between branding her as safely yours and kissing her dumb and drinking her in. You practically sing praises and words of reassurance to this broken example of a person, telling her that you're going to give her so much pleasure and so much care that she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

By the time you finally press your fingers and rub on where the Harbinger needed you most? She's so utterly wet despite the lack of impact and roughness to your minstrations. And when you finally sink your fingers in within her, as if locking the both of you together, you hear a sob that leads you to look up in worry, thinking you've done something wrong.

..But if you did, then she could easily push you away, right?

When you finally see her face, her glossy eyes, her tears that slowly run down from her perfect face, you find your answer with that beautiful feeling of arousal rising within you at the sight.

She isn't mad at you, you hadn't done anything wrong. If anything, she's begging you to move within her.

"Please," she says as her blackened hands reach down to grab yours in an effort to insert you even deeper, her hips grinding on your palm, "I need you, I..."

She needs you.

Needing someone isn't an easy thing for the 'cold and unfeeling Father' to admit, and yet here she was.

And who were you, to refuse your lover's needs?

It's a tender exchange, one that's entirely new to your relationship. At first glance at her in a normal setting, perhaps even at a time before you two were together, and you wouldn't even think that she'd be crying underneath you at how good you make her feel, sobbing out heavy proclamations of love and clinging to you as you take your time in bringing her to her pleasure

Usually the pain you would inflict on her would've dulled out any other external pain she would've been experiencing—emotional pain, pain from the curse she bears—and yet for some reason it's as if you were guarding her from all of it, nullifying the effects they have on her and protecting her in your hold despite the obvious power gap between you

It takes her a while to cum. Not because it's hard for her to do so (it may actually be the easiest it's ever felt), but because not only does she want to savour this feeling of being taken care of for once, she's also waiting for your command. And when you do, it's as if a dam broke within her

She cums so fucking hard you wouldn't even have thought that you were going at it softly, though really maybe this was what she needed the entire time. And it probably didn't help that you dragged this on for such a long time too. All that pent-up release finally gets let out and she practically screams at the overwhelming feeling, with you helping her ride her high

Her legs shake, her thighs are involuntarily bucking up and she glitches violently for a brief moment that you can't help but feel slightly worried (you laugh about it later, much to her expense) but then you feel something warm squirt out of her. You look down and see it as she goes to claw the sheets—you couldn't help but smile.......and maybe indulge yourself a little

Your hand speeds up its minstrations, even as she comes down, and she look at you with slightly wide eyes as she basically starts up all over again. You just want one more from her, surely your pretty baby can do that, right? All for you?

Doesn't take long for her to squirt again, the corners of your eyes creasing with undisguised wonder and unfiltered love for her as she cums herself silly until no energy is left in her body. Hell, with the show she practically put out, it's not a surprise when you realise that you came with her

As you two settle down and you both lie on the bed, all wet and sweaty (though you can't bring yourself to care right now, why you have Arlecchino breathing heavily beside you), she wants so badly to return the favour. But you tell her that her enjoying the moment was all you needed. You both just lay there wordlessly after, perhaps even tangling your limbs together and kissing each other tenderly and showing how much you love each other

Arlecchino is a powerful woman in the end, much more powerful than you despite the reversed dynamic you have with each other, so it doesn't take long before she regains her stamina. She tells you to stay there (though you don't really have the energy to get up anyway) before she goes off to run the bath and bring back a glass of water for you. She treats you less like a cold and unfeeling woman and more of a warm and caring lover, utterly devoted to you, as she brings you to the tub and places you in front of her to clean you up and service you in any way, shape or form you want

It's really funny when it's you who fucked her silly and yet YOU'RE the one getting pampered, but she wouldn't have it any other way

And when you finally get out and get ready to sleep? When she hugs you, clings to you in your rest, you know full well that she has never been more devoted, more reassured, more loved than when she's with you

She's not alone and unloved anymore. You've made sure of that.

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auecho · 2 days

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umm i’m thinkin about old man pierro letting you shave his beard ! ૮꒰ྀི ◞ ⸝⸝⸝ ◟ ꒱ྀི১ it’s somethin he doesn’t usually do—appreciating the gruff and maturity of his beard—but you ask incessantly . what your fascination is , he can’t comprehend , but he begrudgingly obliges . he carefully instructs you : wedging you between his thick thighs and demonstrating the motions . “go with the grain—down . . slowly .” you watch with excited, beady eyes as he does so , nearly snatching the razor from his hand when it’s your turn .

it’s so intimate . he places soft kisses on your arm as you dunk the razor , waiting patiently for your attention . he’s big and burly but so full of love . . you can’t deny him and offer him a sweet kiss to the lips . hands finding refuge on the back of your thighs he tries to sweep you away, but with a giggly sigh you pull back . you cup the bottom of his chin, angling his head before you let your nervous hand shave away his hair .

chaste kisses in between and rushed apologies for nicking him here and there are shared between the two of you . you get the hang of it after a while and suddenly he’s clean shaven . he looks younger, unfamiliar . but you like it .

“did i do a good job ?” you softly inquire, directing his gaze to the mirror . he tries not to feel himself too much, but the wide grin that breaches his seriousness is all too telling . “a great job, princess .”

in a swift movement you’re swept up onto his lap, neck housing his head . kiss , kiss , kiss , as he burrows into your skin . your giggles are paused by his voice overpowering your sense : “i’ll let you do it from now on .”

you celebrate and he tugs you closer . with a devious grin prominent , “gotta get it to grow back, first .” And you know just the way to make it happen .

#had a bad day n thought of my fav old man ☹️#based off of a tiktok i saw too ! ! anyway #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin fluff #pierro x reader #pierro smut #pierro fluff #suggestive #fem reader #𑄽𑄺ྀ ── 𝓮𝓬𝓱𝓸ℯ𝓈 ֹ ﹒

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megistusdiary · 22 hours

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hi hello!! this has probably been done before but,,

may i request nsfw of gentle transfem!arlecchino x fem!reader 👉👈

i just love her so much and need her to be gentle with me 😭

(also i may not be a regular anon, but may i be the 🦭 anon ,??)

hey!! absolutely, the 🦭 is yours. sorry it took me so long to get through my inbox. i hope you see this

this turned out more arle centered whoops

(nsfw utc - tw transfem!arle)

arlecchino, despite her more brutal nature, is always so gentle with you. she takes great care to ensure she files her nails, to not bite you too hard, to fuck you for your pleasure along with hers.

really, she doesn't even fuck you at all. with her, it's more like love making.

she takes her time with you, fingering you on her lap. she likes how your slick looks spread over her digits, she likes the way you get embarrassed when she sucks them clean, even more when she puts the spit-coated fingers on your tongue.

she eats you out like she's in love with your cunt, sucking your clit until you're seeing stars behind your eyelids. her tongue is so warm when it slides into you, teasing your sensitive walls to stretch open for her cock soon.

when she takes you, it's gentle. she eases you into the stretch, cupping your cheeks, kissing you despite wanting so badly to snap her hips into yours. she takes her time, making sure you're ready, shallowly thrusting her hips to let you adjust.

her hands slide to your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips when she bucks her hips into you. she indulges in your pretty moans and cries of her name. she loves how you grip at the blankets when her tip nudges your g-spot. your pussy flutters around her cock, squeezing her so tightly that she nearly bruises your hips, even when she's trying to be gentle.

she kisses you deeply at times like these, making sure you can feel her love in every touch, every pass of her tongue over your lip, every thrust of her inside of you.

she loves you with her entire heart, truly.

#genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #🦭─ 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯✩₊#💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino smut

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toruslvt · 1 day

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ITS A MATCH! — milestone event.

thank you to everyone who has helped me reach yet another milestone ‹3 I love you all. ⋆ rbgs appreciated.

PLEASE READ EVERYTHING. OPEN UNTIL MAY 15

HOW TO PARTICIPATE?

similar to kinktober, send me a kink ( check my rules in my pinned post beforehand ) + MAX 4 characters of the same fandom ( jjk, gi, hrs, I'm in a lot of fandoms so if you want, ask me if I write for them ) + READERS PRONOUNS.

⋆ under the cut you'll find a list of a few kinks I found, you can choose from there or let your imagination run wild and send any other you can think of.

OR GET MATCHED

are you into certain kinks but not certain of who shares your taste? don't worry, I can find a perfect match for you ‹3, just send in your kink + fandom ( if you have a preference or let it up to me ) and only if you want: a few more additions into your request.

⋆ for example: “im into degradation” or “im into spanking with praising and some pet play” both work!

REMEMBER YOU MUST BE +18 TO REQUEST.

MASTERLIST

PENDING MATCHES ( 10 )

AGE GAP — f!reader x satoru, sukuna ( modern ), toji, suguru

DADDY KINK — f!reader x gallagher

DEGRADATION — f!reader x sukuna + manhandling + choking + impact play

DEGRADATION — f!reader x childe, scaramouche, pantalone.

EXHIBITIONISM — f!reader x alhaitham, ayato, tartaglia + fingering + degradation + almost getting caught

GLORYHOLE — f!reader x sunday, gallagher, gepard, jing yuan.

LACTATION — f!reader x sukuna, toji, satoru + praising.

PRAISING — f!reader x baizhu, xiao, thoma, wanderer.

SPIT.

BREEDING.

CUCKOLDING.

FREE USE.

HUMILIATION.

IMPACT PLAY.

MONSTERFUCKING.

VOYEURISM.

#jjk smut #genshin impact smut #honkai star rail smut #DONT STEAL MY EDIT TT IT WAS SO HARD TO DO #jjk x reader #genshin x reader #hsr x reader

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angelsrcute · 11 hours

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7 WEEKS AND 3 DAYS. 𝜗𝜚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Scaramouche + Sub!FReader ➜ cws: angsty, toxic relationship, asshole scara, abuse, one sided love(?), kitchen sex, getting ghosted, unprotected sex, raw sex, manipulation, reader gets pregnant. ᡴꪫ‎

꒰ † ੭‎ — I do not condone these actions irl, this mostly shows how the reader is in a toxic relationship but can't get out of it. Also this is my first time done this type of a lyric fanfic!!

Scaramouche, who wouldn't know him? He was a popular guy. Though he wasn't a nice guy, a delinquent. Had the worst friend group, and slept around a lot. Any girl would die to have a night with him. So what happens when he starts hanging around you? You brushed it off thinking he just wanted to have a good fuck with you. All your friends had warned you about him, how bad he was. You mostly ignored him. Detentions and parent calls, very normal for him, not like his parents cared. Doing drugs, partying, and bullying sometimes.

All my friends say "fuck you".

But could you ignore his sweet words? holding your hand as you two watched the stars. How could you ignore his promises as he kisses the back of your hand, you of course fell in love with him. Hands on your waist as you sat on his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck. The kiss was passionate, not like some low effort kiss. Oh, how much you loved this man. That night you confessed to him, his face brightening up as he landed more kisses to your face. Laughing in his arms till your stomach hurt.

But I can't help but love you.

You let him into your house, even gave him a spare key. Went on dates, you forgot what everyone said about him. This is true love, he was nothing like the rumours. Daily texts and phone calls, missing each other even though you two meet daily. He even opened up to you, about his family. But once you both slept together, things started to change. You felt like he was spending less time with you. You thought it was because of how busy he was, you'd always stay awake at night, waiting for him to come back. You were so worried. He'd see your texts very late, whenever you asked to go out with him, he'd always make an excuse.

And even though you ran me out dry.

When he'd come home drunk, he'd sometimes hurt you, calling you a possessive bitch for questioning him so much. But would still apologise to you with tears in his eyes, promising he wouldn't do it again, cradling you like some child who's scared. You'd forgive him at the end, maybe he just had a bad day or was in a bad mood, it's alright, everyone has those types of days. It'd still happen, everytime. He got jealous very easily too, and wouldn't let you talk to other guys. Maybe now you're seeing his true colours, but he cherishes you so much, right?

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I swear this won't happen again, don't be scared okay? please."

I still think you're a decent guy, Why?

Hands wrapping around your waist as he leaves trails of kisses on your skin. Bending you over the kitchen counter, “Forget the food, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you.” His cock thrusting into your cunt, it hurt, but you stayed quiet. He was never gentle with you, always leaving bruises. He shoots his load in your cunt, making you all warm and dumb.

On the rare days that he visited you, it would always lead to sex. You wonder if he sees you as nothing but an object. Silly thoughts, he's just showing you his love.

I should've caught him by his last name

You were pregnant, what a happy news. Maybe this will fix your relationship? You hoped so, desperately wanted him to look at you with the same eyes he once used to. Scaramouche never replied to you nor picked up your calls. Had he ghosted you? no this wasn't supposed to happen, he's just busy, right?

Tears fell from your eyes as you waited for your husband to come back, which he never did. Ah, what a dumb fucker you are, of course this was all a game. He didn't want to love a single person, he just wanted to have relief. What a shame your kid would never be able to see his father. Would he look just like scaramouche? You dreaded the thought. Your eyes fell upon a knife on the kitchen counter, maybe this is for the best.

You still believed that scaramouche loved you, at least you did, every moment.

It's been seven weeks and three days.

#dom character #sub reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #dom scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scara smut #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scara x y/n #scara x reader #scara x you #𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

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water-some · 1 day

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#ed bllog #encouragement #a very potter musical #ewatsonedit #jackson wang #sukuna x reader #studio ghilibi #genshin impact smut #witch tips #anarchism

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honeykaes · 15 hours

Text

heartbroken ghost

thoma x reader II 3.5k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with fem pronouns, switch!reader, switch!thoma, office au, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, hate sex?, blowjob, handjob, riding, use of alcohol, reader isn’t a good person, unedited

synopsis: everyone at the office seems to love thoma. He’s helpful, kind and dedicated to everyone…except for you

Thoma seemed to be beloved in the office. Working for the Kamisato conglomerate as an assistant, he was always helping out the people on his floor. He would bring in sandwiches, stay late helping people catch up with their work, and even buy a round of drinks for everyone once the day finally ended at the izakaya next door.

There was nothing but good things your coworkers would say about him. Everyone always found themselves smiling, whenever he would be brought up in conversation.

Yet, it seemed whenever the two of you were alone he wanted nothing to do with you. Heavy quietness, avoiding eye contact, furrowed brows—he held you at a distance and you had no idea why.

Finally, one day after work, gulping beers down at the izakaya, it seemed all your coworkers trickled out until it was just you and him. Your cheeks felt hot looking down at the froth of the beer smeared across the bottom of your mug, pouting as you finally finished your nth drink of the night.

You lifted your eyes up to see Thoma staring at you. Part of you was shocked he decided to stay, instead of paying the bill and leaving silently like he usually does.

His green eyes were hazed in a cloud of drunkenness, leaning his soft cheek against his palm as his arm leaned on the table. His eyebrows were furrowed, cheeks flushed as the alcohol in his system pumped through his veins.

Oddly enough, there was something sultry about his eyes narrowing at you. Perhaps it was because you noticed the buttons of his white dress shirt popped down, showing a glimpse of his pectoral muscles from the angle he was leaning at. Or the pierced ears you never noticed he had.

You pouted before pushing your mug away. This would be a good time than any to ask him what his deal finally was.

“Thoma, why do you hate my guts?” you asked, fingers strumming on the wooden table. Thoma's eyes slightly widened before he sighed, leaning his head back.

“...Can you leave already? I just want one more drink to myself without your presence here,” he replied. Your eyebrows furrowed, hearing his statement. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, leaning towards him from the other side of the table.

“Not until you explain yourself. You are literally, supernaturally kind to everyone but me. So what’s the deal? Did I piss you off or something? Is it jealousy—”

Thoma scoffed, lips curving into a disbelief smile as he shook his head. His false smile quickly fell again as he pushed away his empty glass and lifted his face away from his palm

“Of you? What do I need to be jealous of you for? There’s nothing that you have that I don’t,” Thoma replied. Your lips curved into a smile, as you leaned closer towards him. You noticed his eyes flicker towards your chest before heading back to your eyes.

You would bet a thousand mora the peak of your cleavage also grabbed his attention.

“Is that right? Then explain yourself, since you do not need to be jealous of me…” you trailed off. You gasped a bit before chuckling to yourself. Thoma grunted.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. You tapped your lip contemplating on telling him.

“A memory just popped into my head. I remember the first day of the office. Instead of you showing me around, Mr. Kamisato did. Were you jealous the boss was showing me more attention than his favorite dog?” you hummed. Thoma furrowed his eyes, getting up from his seat. The mischievous look on your face softened, as you got startled by his sudden movement.

“You don’t remember me do you?” he asked. Your lips curled up about to laugh before Thoma peered at you from the corner of your eye. He was dead serious about this. Yet, his face doesn’t seem familiar.

“...Figures,” Thoma sighed, burying his hands into his slacks. He threw a few bills down on the table before walking off toward the entrance of the bar and leaving. Despite the crowded and rowdy, dull roar of the salarymen and women around you, the only words that kept registering and repeating in your head were his words.

“You don’t remember me do you?”

You don’t recall anyone that resembled Thoma in your life. You tried your best not to think about your life before college, but was he a discarded figure hidden behind the doors of adolescents you never wanted to face again?

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you look down at your empty beer glasses surrounding you. The buzz of alcohol was beginning to dissipate thanks to that conversation.

“I need a drink…” you muttered to yourself, getting up from the now-empty table. You made your way out the door, noticing the rain beginning to dretch the Tokyo skyline. The hard, cold droplets clung onto your clothes and hair, quickly drenching you as you cursed out, covering your head with your arms to try and fail to keep yourself dry.

Dashing off, feet wobbling as you struggled to keep up in your heels, you noticed an alleyway that seemed covered and slipped into it. Just as a sigh of relief would sweep through your lips, you noticed Thoma, leaning against the wall shocked to see your presence once again.

He was completely soaked as well, suit clinging onto his skin. He had taken his ponytail down, showing off how long the back part of his hair was. The most shocking part was the lit cigarette between his lips with a small trail of smoking floating upwards from it.

“Thoma? You smoke?” You asked. Thoma sifted the bud between his lips, rolling his eyes momentarily.

“That’s the first question you ask? How did you find me anyway?” he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows again. This guy really knows how to kill your buzz.

“Obviously I didn’t know it was going to rain. I…didn’t bring an umbrella, so this was the first place I saw as a shelter before I could wait this out and head to the trains once this passed,” you grumbled, crossing your arms.

“Besides, you didn’t answer my question,” you muttered. You were shocked to hear, Thoma chuckled. You had heard him laugh before, passing by him and a group in the hallway but this was the first time he seemed to laugh directly in front of you.

“Bad habit I took up from working as Mr Kamisato’s assistant. We all have vices and he has me pick up cigarettes for him. It was just supposed to be a social thing but when I find myself very stressed, I can’t help but indulge.”

“So I’m guessing I stressed you out from my question?” you grunted. Thoma didn’t reply as his gaze wandered away from you and down on the damp concrete ground.

You sighed once more, heels clicking as you walked beside him, leaning against the wall. The two of you remained quiet for a while, letting the pitter patters of the rain to the talking for you.

“...I knew you back in high school before I moved to Japan,” Thoma murmured, dropping his cigarette on the floor and grinding it softly with his dress shoe.

“I had the biggest crush on you, and it’s like you didn’t see me,” Thoma chuckled to himself, eyes narrowing in embarrassment and disappointment. Your eyes softened as you parted your lips to speak, but he kept talking.

“I’d try to do everything to get your attention, but it’s like you purposefully avoided or ignored me,” Thoma admitted. “I had to move shortly after that, but I vowed the next person I would pursue would never make me feel like that again.”

“...Thoma I—”

Thoma simply raised his hand up.

“I was a dumb 14-year-old. It’s been over 10 years. That crush has long died. We’ve both moved on and grew up, so don’t throw your pity onto me,” Thoma muttered. Your eyebrows furrowed as you scoffed. You pushed yourself off of the wall to directly face him.

“You don’t think I know that?” you barked back. Thoma didn’t reply, just remained quiet and looked at you with a scowl.

“Look Thoma, I don’t think you knew how much I hardly noticed anyone in high school because I assumed everyone thought I was a loser. I didn’t have a lot of friends, all I wanted to do was make it to graduation in one piece. I never thought you or even other boys even thought of me.”

“Well, you don’t have to fear that now because you’re not my type as an adult anyway—” Thoma trailed off, closing his eyes. You narrowed your eyes before leaning in, pressing your chest against his own as he gasped. Your hands pressed themselves on his collar.

“You want to say that again? Because I think you are a dirty liar, Thoma. Don’t think I didn’t see you checking out my tits earlier. You’re not as subtle as you think,” you muttered, lifting your chin up to stare him down directly.

His cheeks were already red from the coldness of his wet clothes before he grunted.

“I-I could say the same thing. You didn’t think I couldn’t feel you’re staring, checking me out!” he stammered back. A grin curled on your face once more.

“Oh? Did your voice just crack? Are you embarrassed to be this close to a woman, hm?” you sarcastically cooed out. Thoma scoffed, narrowing his eyes.

“God, I hate you and the person you’ve become,” he grumbled. His lip slightly quivered, gaze bouncing between your expression and the wall. You quirked your head to the side, leaning towards his ear.

“...So why does it seem like you want to kiss me, huh?” you asked. Thoma clenched his jaw before, suddenly leaning in, capturing your lips for his own. You moaned, feeling your teeth clank against one another from his sudden forcefulness.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. The sweetness from the beer from earlier coated both of your lips, as your tongues soon dragged between each other. You grabbed onto Thoma’s collar, pulling him in even deeper, heads moving and shifting to try to keep up with one another.

You soon bit down on Thoma’s lip softly, pulling the plush tissue back until letting it go. Your breaths were heavy and visible in the cold air, eyes half-lidded as you continued to stare at one another, realizing what you two had just done.

“(Y/n)—”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you interrupted as you leaned in to kiss him once more. Thoma had shifted, grabbing your chin with his fingers and lifting it as he moved his other arm to cage you in closer to him. A shaky moan escaped your lips as his lips trailed away from your lips to your neck, peppering the sensitive skin with soft kisses and nibbles.

Finding a suitable spot, he dragged his tongue across it before sucking and nibbling. You clung tighter to Thoma, pressing your thighs together to ease the ache of arousal beginning to burn between your legs. You raised a hand, pressing against his crotch. You could feel his cock pressing against the wet dark slack, shivering as his hips slightly bucked from the sudden sensation.

“N-Not here, We can get arrested if we go further…” Thoma whispered out, capturing your lips once more. Your hand continued to press firmly on his crotch, feeling his member get harder and twitch in excitement.

“M’serious,” he slurred out. “We can both lose our jobs from a scandal of getting caught and lose our visas. M’still not a permanent…citizen…” Thoma muttered as he continued to kiss you. He grabbed your hands, pressing them against the damp brick wall. Your noses pressed against each other, breaths heavy as you fought the urge to kiss him again.

“My apartment is close…we can go there…” he replied. You bit your lip and nodded, as the two of you quickly tried to adjust yourself. Pulling his jacket over your head, the two of you dashed out from the alleyway as he guided you toward his apartment.

Your heart thumped, adrenaline fueling you as the lights of the cars illuminated his face. He seemed like he was smiling. A memory flashed in your head of a kid who sat in the front of the class in high school, smiling at you the same way.

“I guess he is sweet to everyone he meets…” you whispered to yourself.

Finally, Thoma turned away from the main street where you two walked into a very stylish and high-rise apartment complex. He waved to the doorman as he lifted his hat, greeting him back before you two made it to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, you grabbed onto his collar and kissed him again.

He groaned in the kiss, hands moving up and down across the curves along the wet clothes clinging onto your body before a loud ding was let out, as the door of the elevator opened once more. Thoma breaks the kiss before grabbing your hand and making a way to his apartment. He eagerly digs into his pocket, fumbling with his key before finally nudging it into the keyhole and opening the apartment.

You walked in and grabbed his tie, as walked in after you. As soon as the door closed, you kicked off your shoes and he followed suit before the two of you struggled to get to the bedroom. You two quickly disrobed, letting the wet soggy clothes pile in a puddle on the ground before you push Thoma onto the bed.

His cock is raised high, pulsating every few seconds. You grab ahold of his member, as Thoma sucks a sharp breath in. You press your thumb at his flushed tip, pressing against the slit budding with precum. With a tight grip, you began to pump his cock, watching him bite his lip fighting the urge to moan out your name.

“F-Fuck…” he grunted out. A mischievous smirk fell on your lips as you made his way to your lap as you continued to jerk his cock. You pressed your tongue, letting it swirl along the sensitive tip as his hips jolted in delight.

You let one hand tightly grip his cock right under his tip, while the other continued to pump along the base. Thoma struggled, body shivering from the immense pleasure wafting throughout his body. He lifted his hand to his forehead, looking over at you with one open half-lidded eye. Drool dribbled down his bottom lip.

“H-How are you so g-ood at this?” he stammered out. You kissed his tip before keeping your mouth open as you could feel his cock beginning to twitch more. With a loud moan, thick ropes of cum shot out, finding its way on your tongue, face, and Thoma’s abdomen. His breaths were heavy, and his arms covered his face as he slowly came down from his high.

You swallowed the sticky and salty substance and wiped the remainder that clung onto your face.

“Ah, ah, ah…! Not done with you yet,” you hummed, grabbing onto his cock. You jumped his softening cock, watching it soon rise to full-length once more.

“C-Condom…I should get a—” Thoma whispered, moving his arm away from his face. His cheeks were extremely flushed, looking as if he was in a drunken state of euphoria. You leaned in, kissing him once again as you lifted yourself.

You pressed his tip along your slick opening, your cunt drooling in your own arousal that painted your crotch and dripped along your inner thighs.

“I’m on a pill. Don’t worry,” you cooed. Thoma grunted, lifting his upper body up. You gasped, feeling his hands make way to your hips, sinking you down suddenly on his cock. You covered your mouth, shocked at his forwardness again as he leaned his forehead against your own.

“Y-You know, you were sort of right earlier. I was jealous…” he admitted. You can barely register what he meant, feeling his thrust inside of you. Your hips bounced, meeting his pace. Your head lifting back in pleasure.

“...That day you joined the company and Mr.Kamisato showed you around. I could tell you were trying to flirt with him. I could see how you pressed your chest around him, how you’d try to flirt…it wasn’t fair…!” Thoma grunted, closing his eyes. His hands grabbed onto the mounds of your ass, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh.

The sound of slapping flesh echoed out in the bedroom before Thoma grunted once more. He grabbed onto your chin, lifting your head up to look you in the eye.

“Are you even paying attention?!... How is it you seemed to throw yourself at him but not me!” he groaned. Your chest bounced at his face tempo, hand pressed against your stomach where you could feel him stretching you out with every thrust.

“T-Thoma!” you called out. His eyebrows furrowed as one hand found its way to your clit, pressing against the sensitive mound as you yelp louder.

“I won’t let you forget this…” Thoma moaned, furrowing his eyebrows and capturing your lips. Your hands moved towards his back, nails harpooning against the skin raking downwards. He grunted into the kiss.

Your walls began to flutter, squeezing his cock rutting inside of you, making it more difficult to keep up his pace. As his thumb continued to rub tight circles along your clit, your back soon arched, seeing white.

You scream into the kiss, gripping him tight as you shiver and ride yourself through the euphoric high. Thoma clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to cum inside of you before he sank his cock out of you. Your cunt shivered, missing the presence of being full as he lifted himself up.

Tears pricked your eyes, lips swollen and glossy as your tired eyes looked toward him. He pumped his cock rapidly, hips bucking with every justle before pressing his tip against your open mouth.

“Swallow…every last drop for me please…” he begged. A loud whine escaped himself as he shut his eyes tight, cum shooting out once again. You did your best to swallow every inch of cum that escaped his cock. With a shaky sigh, he tapped his softening cock on your lips once more before lying beside you.

His arms wrapped around you tenderly, as your head leaned against his chest. He had a soft smile on his face, despite his eyes being closed. He was whispering soft praises in your ear.

He was acting like the Thoma, he was with everyone except you despite unknowingly breaking his heart once and bruising it a second time.

His softness was nice. You could imagine that tension when you two would arrive on Monday in the office would be completely gone. You knew he would volunteer to get you lunch like everyone else now. You knew he would offer to work late to help you out.

You knew he’d probably ask you on a real date. You knew he would put his all into making you smile. You knew that.

But you knew he deserved someone who didn’t play with his heart as much as you did.

Thoma walked out of the shower, smiling. He was much happier than usual, a part of him finally soothed and ready to formally move on. Perhaps this was a start to something he always wished to have.

He had gotten up earlier to wash and dry your clothes. He was excited to make breakfast for you too. It had been a while since he had a Western-style breakfast.

As Thoma emerged from the steamy bathroom, covering his lower half with his towel, his smile faltered noticing you weren’t in the bed. Just before he was going to go to the living room, he noticed your things were missing from the chair he set them out on. The clothes he had dried, the purse he found near his apartment door, your phone that fell when you two were kissing and making your way to his bedroom.

He felt his heart sink to his chest, but he wanted to stay positive. He never gave you his personal cellphone number. Maybe you messaged him on Slack with an explanation or something to quell his worries?

Nothing.

You had left without a trace. No goodbye. No closure. No nothing.

It felt like he was a ghost all over again.

“Ha…” Thoma whispered out, tears welling in his eyes as he sat down on the bed silently to himself. Looking up in the mirror, all he could see was his 14-year-old self looking back at him with pity. He can’t help but laugh, finally laying down fully on the bed.

“...I’m still such an idiot.”

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