MAPPA Really Highlighted Fujimoto's Love For Movies

frothing at the mouth rn

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.

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.”

---

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

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"watch me retire and learn how to cook" – the genshin boys as househusbands

ft. aether, al-haitham, cyno, wanderer

2k words, fluff, themes of marriage, gn! reader; inspired by that meme asking guys what they would do if they married someone who earns 800k a year

AETHER – whose qualifications are outmatched only by his love

When Aether finally retired from the adventuring life, many have warned him that the domestic life will make him even more of a busybody. Aether can see where they’re coming from now. 

But there’s an overarching peace he feels when all he’s going through recipe books with Paimon and watering the plants in the morning. Sometimes, while you’re out for work and he’s at home, he gets a weird moment where he wonders if this is what it’d feel like if he hadn’t retired and you were at home instead. 

Then he remembers that him running across Teyvat while you had your own career back home was exactly how your relationship worked before he settled down for good.

When he’s out buying groceries, rookie adventurers would recognize him as the retired hero of Teyvat and eagerly ask for advice – to which Aether accidentally gives more advice about cooking and budgeting than on battles or domains.

“If you’re an adventurer on a budget, you might be tempted to run a tab on the diners you visit, like Good Hunter,” Aether says as he compares the ripeness of two tomatoes at the grocery. The rookies surround him with bated breath, awaiting every word of his advice.

“It’s more sustainable to just buy ingredients and cook simple meals in the long run. Also I’m more a fan of butter than oil to fry, but my partner says otherwise. It’s up to you.”

With a wink, he walks away, leaving a group of stunned but curious adventurers behind to fanboy about the hero of Teyvat buying groceries.

Aether is an amazing cook. It’s also how he calms down. Following a recipe, pouring care into every ingredient and step, and the sounds and smells of the kitchen all remind Aether of what home means to him.

Making sure you’re eating healthy is how he cares for people. He won’t be shoving food down your gullet, but should you have trouble with eating well from stress or anything, he’s sweet in a persistent way, slowly encouraging you through every bite and making sure you’re snacking well during all-nighters.

Not to mention that with his Anemo and future Hydro powers combined, he’ll make quick work of cleaning house, if you aren’t living in the Teapot (which is likely anyways, because Aether wants a real house for some stability).

You worried at first that he would feel cooped-up if he just stayed at the house. Thankfully, Aether will never run out of friends to visit or hijinks to jump into; such is his luck, really. A lot of his friends still find it jarring when Aether, renowned warrior and hero, can go on and on about the importance of a clean kitchen and what makes a good rice. He once had a discussion with Tighnari, Noelle, and Thoma on healthy cooking that lasted from night to morning.

“The hero is a kept man,” his companions would sigh with amusement at the lovestruck sparkle in Aether’s eyes whenever he talks about you.

He likes going on outdoorsy trips with you should you have the time: fishing by the lake, hiking the mountains of Jueyun Karst, or camping under the stars while chewing on adventurer food.

There’s nothing quite like coming home every night and seeing Aether and Paimon with handkerchiefs tied over their heads, dusting the room while the smell of dinner permeates the house. It’s like the skies have parted for the sun when he happily exclaims, “You’re back!”

more utc!

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no im not stalking this amazing beings page >:0 what an insult :( I'm worshipping it 🧎‍♀️🛐🛐🛐🧎‍♀️

i love the tymps couple so well 😭😭 Tsukki is so cute in it, i love the way you wrote him 🥰 I was wondering, if youre willing to write it, how would tymps tsukki and the reader be during an arguement? I can only imahine how petty tsukki would be 😂

I don’t usually take requests but I had the perfect idea for this n I can’t get my mind off it 😭😭 thank you for this anon… I’m obsessed with them! Really! Truly!!

link to the og “tymps” couple fic!

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

Tsukishima can’t say that he exactly remembers what this argument is about, all he knows is that you’re pissed, he’s pissed, and he just really wants to let this go. Let the disagreement roll over and just hug you, take you to bed and let you smother him with kisses like you do every night.

But he can’t back down, not when he’s so infuriated by your stubbornness that he can’t think straight. His hand in shaking from anger, and he can see tears tease your waterline. (Tears of anger, not sadness. Do not be mistaken, you like to remind him.)

“Don’t be stupid.”

You offered. You so politely offered to sleep on the couch and let your boyfriend wallow in his bitterness. You offered to leave him alone, and now he’s declining?

“I’ll do what I want. And right now, I want to sleep on the couch.”

You do not want to sleep on the couch. It’s as comfortable as a couch gets, scratches and dents to prove it’s years of usage. You love that leather couch, but it’s far too cold for you rest in.

“I don’t give a shit. I’ll die before ever let you sleep alone. You’re sleeping on the bed with me.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not my dad, fuckface.”

He rolls his eyes. You just never listen. You’re far too stubborn for your own good.

“You’ll freeze your ass off on that couch. Don’t make me tell you again.”

He walks off to your shared bedroom, leaving you in the small living alone. You turn your head and find your little kitten on the couch, sleeping soundly despite the storm surrounding her.

You sigh. “I hate him.”

-

You’re out of the shower some twenty minutes later, climbing into your bed angrily. You know Tsukishima is awake—his breathing is a clear sign—but you chose to ignore him. You wrap yourself in the warm sheets, turning your back on your lover.

Two minutes pass. Three. Five.

“Where’s my goodnight kiss, dumbass?”

It sounds silly, coming from the man who just spent the past hour angry at you, but he couldn’t be any more sincere. For every night that you’ve been with him, he gets a goodnight kiss placed on his cheeks, his forehead, and lastly, on his lips. You’ve never failed to do so, and he will not let a petty argument stop this streak.

“You don’t get one, you piece of shit.”

He chooses silence. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move.

Thirty seconds pass. A minute.

The soft feeling of your lips is soon on his left cheek, then his right, the centre of his forehead, and finally, his lips.

“I hope the devil shows up in your dreams tonight.”

He laughs. A genuine laugh—he can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. Amidst all your anger, you still find a way to humour him.

He pulls you into him, and you don’t reject him. Your back to his chest, he places a sweet kiss at the top of your head.

“You too, Princess.”

-

He wakes up the next morning at 6:30 AM.

He finds you tangled in him: your legs on top of his, your arm somehow found its way into his hair, and there may be some drool on his chest (he doesn’t really care enough to confirm).

You look adorable.

But he is still annoyed.

So he swiftly jumps out of bed, careful not to wake you up, and heads to the kitchen. The coffee maker is turned on, just enough for two cups, and he gets breakfast ready.

He has to clock into work by 8:30 AM, giving him just enough time to prep breakfast and rush off for the day. He’s quick with his movements; your coffee is poured in a flask to ensure that it’s still hot by the time you wake up, your breakfast of pancakes is airy and light, and you have a bowl of fruits cut up and ready.

He leaves for work by 8, a sticky note taped to the flask.

It reads,

morning.

Do not skip breakfast. I’ll know. Eat everything I made. Lick the plate clean if you have to.

You’re a piece of shit, but have a good day. I’m still mad at you, but you drooled on my chest and you looked adorable doin it

i love ya (not rlly),

Tsukishima

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‎ ‎   ‎ ‎𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓  𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

‎ ‎ ┈───┈ ┈───┈┈┈───┈ ┈───┈

‎ ‎ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 ⌵

‎ ‎ I believe in myself.

‎ ‎ I am okay.

‎ ‎ Everything turned out better than expected.

‎ ‎ I am safe.

‎ ‎ I am protected.

‎ ‎ I‘m in control, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

‎ ‎ I always get through anything, no matter how tough it is.

‎ ‎ I’m strong and can endure anything.

‎ ‎ I am grounded.

‎ ‎ I attract only what I truly want.

‎ ‎ I know intrusive thoughts hold no power over me.

‎ ‎ I am proud of myself.

‎ ‎ I am at peace with myself and everything around me.

‎ ‎ My desires are apart of me.

‎ ‎ I love myself.

‎ ‎ I am capable of everything I want to do.

‎ ‎ Nothing can hurt me or my loved ones.

‎ ‎ I feel at ease with everything.

‎ ‎ My fears, worries and doubts have no power over me.

‎ ‎ I know my desires are mine; it’s my birthright.

‎ ‎ ┈───┈ ┈───┈┈┈───┈ ┈───┈

‎‎ ‎ 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 ⌵

‎ ‎ These hard times will pass.

‎ ‎ I know these feelings are temporary.

‎ ‎ It’ll all work out better than expected.

‎ ‎ No matter how dark life seems right now, I‘ll end up okay.

‎ ‎ Better things are coming my way.

‎ ‎ I know my desires will be mine; it is my birthright.

‎ ‎ I will get everything I want; it’s inevitable.

‎ ‎ I will be okay.

‎ ‎ My fears will not hurt me or come true.

‎ ‎ I am capable of overcoming this.

‎ ‎ It will all turn out okay.

‎ ‎ I can get through this.

‎ ‎ Life has great things in store for me.

‎ ‎ I got this; I can do anything even if it doesn‘t seem like it.

‎ ‎ ┈───┈ ┈───┈┈┈───┈ ┈───┈

© 2022 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐓 | do not repost, copy, translate, or use any posts on this blog in any way without credit or permission

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i’ve been thinking about scara’s redesign recently -w-

+annotations by childe below

Keep reading

o/ <- person waving

o7 <- person saluting

ol <- person raising hand

o1 <- person scratching head

\o> <- person stretching

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felt it

me right now

—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐫

✦ pairing: al-haitham x reader

✦ warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact

✦ w/c: 3.2k

✦ disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, hate sex, heavy degradation, humiliation kink, rivals to lovers?, masturbation, blowjob,  fingering, dacryphilia, doggy-style, slight anal, facial, cock-warming, semi-public sex, library sex, all characters are 21+, unedited

✦ summary: seeing that you came in second for your class ranks yet again after getting the second-highest score on your last exam within the Haravatat Darshan, you decided to ask your enemy for help. after all, you'll do anything to win this war against him.

There was a thunderous roar of chatter inside the Akademiya as a class of scholars from Haravatat all gazed upon the door outlining the recent exam results from the last midterm exam. As some cheer, jumping in delight that they managed to pass others bit their lips, shivering in fear on their desperate next steps to not fail the required course.

You maneuvered through the crowd until you were able to see the post outlining the class' names. Your stomach churned, butterflies fluttering as you when through every line until you could identify your own. You were up to days meticulously studying and going over the material over and over again. You even brided those who managed to pass the test to confirm no curveballs would be given by the sages. You had successfully prepared and memorized the correct material.

But why was your name, just shy of the top score in second place? The smile on your lips faltered, jaw clenching instead realizing just who you lost to.

Alhaitham, the Akademiya’s beloved scribe known for his intellect, aloofness, and determination to learn whatever piques his interests.

“What? Are you so surprised that I got the top score yet again,” a voice whispered down. Your body shivered, hairs raised, as you turned your back to glare at the tall man. Even in his stoic features, something about the look in his eyes always made you feel like he was looking down on you. 

The butterflies that were once in your stomach seem to bubble and melt at the boiling lava beginning to take shape instead.

He only scoffed at your expression, his lips curving up to a small smirk. There was, that patronizing look again. You wanted nothing more than to loudly connect the palm of your hand to his cheek, but you couldn’t. You had lost once again, and your pride was beginning to not be able to take all the losses anymore.

“Instead of being enemies, why don’t you just give it up already? How many tests has it been since your ‘proclamation of war’? You have yet to win and defeat me, am I wrong,” he remarked. You balled your fists up nudging your shoulder, leaving him to shift so you could move past him.

“You’re such a jackass Alhaitham. It’s no secret that everyone in our class despises you,” you muttered, marching off. The silver-haired man did not respond, teal eyes watching your form disappear from his visage. His eyes narrow where you once stood before tutting, digging his hands into his pocket and leaving the crowd as well.

Why wasn’t he able to wring in his rapidly beating heart when you were just here? It didn’t make sense to the scribe. 

Night hung high in the sky, the moon’s rays illuminating from Alhaitham’s window. A rugged sigh left Alhaitham’s lips, glaring at the blank ceiling in his room. His eyebrows furrowed, gripping his bedsheets tightly still fazed from earlier seeing your angry expression at him.

He knew he didn’t understand people’s emotions that well. Being emotionally was something he prided himself on not being. As much as he felt this was one of his strengths, he had enough reasoning to recognize it as one of his weaknesses as well. For being an intellect, it was difficult for him to empathize and interpret emotions, especially when they aren’t derived from what he feels are logical motives.

It seemed like a fallacy how much his heart would thump erratically in his chest, cheeks threatening to turn flushed when you were in his presence. That fire in your eye and rude comments would just make it worst. He thought it was anger at first, but that doesn’t really fit all cases he interacts with you.

Alhaitham sighs again, lifting his arm up to cover his eyes, feeling his cock twitching to life. His eyes glowered at his pulsating length, his pink tip already budding with his precum; urging him to pay attention to it. He could only curse himself at his thoughts of you making him hard and pent up.

He tightly grabbed onto his length, sucking in a sharp breath and feeling the pleasure reverberate through him. He squeezed firmly causing a moan to leave his lips, slowly stroking down to see the tip of his cock fully exposed to him. A shaky sigh left his lips as he soon speed up hearing the echoes of skin slapping in his room.

Something has to be wrong with his Akasha terminal for him to be behaving in this manner, why else would he be fantasizing about his rival? Most people didn’t imagine a person they hated, begging and whining to take their cock in their mouth, struggling to fit it all in, looking up at him for approval. 

The throws his head back, pushing his thumb on his slit, feeling a knot in his stomach developing. His hips were meeting his pace, fucking into his jerking hand. 

He whispered your name before biting down harshly on his lip, face scrunching up as ropes of cum finally escape them staining his nude chest. He wiped the sweat on his brow, finally letting go of his softening cock before looking at the mirror next to him. 

He sneered, noting how disgusting he felt as globs of his thick cum slid on his chest and lower stomach. He looked like a man deprived, something he never thought he fall to.

Either his terminal was hacked or one of the knowledge capsules he recently used has begun rotting at his brain. 

That had to be the logical reasoning for this. The only explanation for why he craves someone he despises.

He needed to fix this quickly.

Hearing the scribes finally ending class, Alhaitham only sighed before furrowing his eyes seeing the Akasha Terminal beep. A message popped up in his visage, mouth slightly gaping in surprise seeing it was from you. 

“Meet me in the library. I’ll be in the 4th private study room. I need to talk to you. Don’t keep me waiting”.

The curves on his lips tugged up, perhaps he could get rid of his problem as quickly as he wanted. Still, he wasn’t sure what your own motivations were for reaching out to him. Could you be suffering from the same fate?

Alhaitham soon found where you were, closing the door and locking it before shutting the blinds down so no one could see. You sat in one of the chairs, arms crossed and glaring at him as he finally turned himself towards you.

“I know you must be curious about why I asked you to meet me,” you muttered before sighing. Your gaze drifted away, anger and pity swirling within your eyes.

“...Allies, just for today. Let me study with you,” you whispered. You closed your eyes clenching the tightly to not see what expression Alhaitham had on his face. You were sure he was tugging a rare smile on his face, overjoyed at the fact you had caved this far.

“...I’m sick of having my pride hurt because of you, losing time and time again. In Liyue, there’s a saying from a War General: ‘If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.’ Studying with you will give me a chance to peer into your mind, hopefully giving me the next advantage for the upcoming test in a month.”

As you opened your eyes, you were slightly shocked to see Alhaitham had his usual stoic expression on, not one of condescension. 

“You missed the first part of that: “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.” If that is true, then what do I gain out of this as your adversary? I do not see this as a net win for me,” Alhaitham replied. You clicked your tongue, sighing for a second lifting your hand up to brush part of your hair.

“That’s why I’ve also wanted you to come here to negotiate. Now, what do you want that you see this as an equal transaction,” you grumbled. Alhaitham looked down briefly, thinking back to the period of lust that overtook him last night. This would be the best opportunity to address it.

“Look, I have suspensions that my Akasha Terminal is corrupted. I confess that I’m having lustful thoughts about you, something that doesn’t make sense as you irritate me to no end. The opposing feelings have even caused me to lose sleep, something that is even more annoying and could potentially hurt me in my studies.”

Your eyes widened, cheeks getting hot as you scowl at him.

“W-What?! I knew you were an asshole but I didn’t take you as a pervert! No one should admit to that kind of shit!” you barked. Alhaitham sighed, rubbing an impending headache threatening to form.

“I know. It’s unlike me. Based on most cultures and research I’ve done, people are supposed to admire their potential lover, not loathe them. So I just need to fuck you and get it out of my system, and I will go back to normal again,” he sighed. 

You remained quiet, the embarrassed expression still clearly written all over your face before biting your lips.

“...Fine. Whatever will get me on top of the class ranking and to see your face when I actually win.”

Alhaitham, eerily silent, walks over to you— using his foot to push the chair so you were now facing him. As you were about to open his mouth to berate him, you gasped feeling his large palms place themselves on the end of your Akademiya robes. He slowly pushed it up, revealing your underwear.

He scoffs, eyes flickering to your gaze before going back towards your underwear, noting the damp pool beginning to form on the cloth.

“You’re already this wet?” he stated before a small chuckle erupted from him. “If I didn’t know better, I think you get off, humiliating yourself by fucking the person you supposedly hate the most.” As your lips quivered, eyebrows furrowing and cheeks becoming hotter, you jabbed a finger at his forehead.

“Said the guy who ‘supposedly’ hates me, begging to fuck me. Look in the fucking mirror!” you seethed. Alhaitham simply rolled his eyes, grabbing onto the fabric of the underwear and pulling it down onto the floor. He didn’t understand why his mouth was watering, seeing your already drooling cunt squelch on just the idea of his cock inside of you.

Two long fingers dove themselves inside your cunt leaving a soft moan to escape your lips. His head rested on your plush thigh, watching your cunt completely devour his fingers as he continuously thrust them inside of you. As if hypnotized, the scribe pressed his calloused thumb onto your clit observing you jolt in pleasure. He’ll be sure to keep note of that.

“F-Fuck…just hurry up already,” you whined. Alhaitham tried to avoid rolling his eyes at your nagging, easily shutting you up as he curled his fingers inside of you, thumb pressing rough "circles on your throbbing clit. Seeing you throw your head back, it was easy to see how much you were losing yourself to pleasure, cunt tightening on his fingers massaging your insides so meticulously. 

His nails dug into the meat of your thigh that was threatening to close and squeeze his head as he lazily pressed kisses on the other thigh he was resting on. Your hands had wandered to your chest, eyes shut tight with his name on your tongue.

“F-Fuck. I’m gonna—” Feeling the pressure on your burning clit getting worse, you could feel tears develop in your eyes soon cascading down your cheeks feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure caused by his fingers.

“—H-Haitham!” you choked out, back arching as you finally reached your high. His lips tugged into a small smile, seeing your body shift and move as you rode out your climax. Slowly dipping his digits out—glistening with your arousal—he brought his thumb to wipe against a tear before opening his mouth and swirling his tongue to taste the sweetness of your slick as well as the saltiness of your tear.

“Heh. I think you look much better crying and whining and glaring and hurling insults at me,” he chuckled, causing you to narrow his eyes. Just as you were catching your breath, your eyes widened watching him tug his pants down, cock immediately popping up. He tried hiding the smirk on his face visibly watching you gulp. Your nervous hands grabbed onto your robe

He soon positioned you so your torso pressed up against the table, ass side in the air. He could see your juices drip down the sides of your thighs and onto the marble floor.

“Shit…” you whispered out. “L-Let’s just get it over with quickly. We still need to study. I only booked this room for 3 hours.” Alhaitham pressed the tip of his cock against your dripping folds, swiping it along your slit. You sucked a breath in and whined feeling him nudge it against your overstimulated and burning clit.

“That’s plenty of time. Besides, you’ll decide how long I take for this next part,” he replied. You quirked your eyebrow up, body shivering in pleasure as he continuously rubbed his tip along your folds, globs of your slick already coating the base of his length. It was hard not to cum just by the feelings of your soft folds against his cock. Still, he had to remain in control. He wanted to draw this out as long as possible.

But why? He’d try figuring that out later.

He towered over your body, leaning over to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on the shell of it.

“Beg for me,” he stated. You slammed your fists down.

“Excuse me?!” you shouted at him. You felt him blow hot air into your ear causing your body to tremble once more.

“You heard me, beg for me. Don’t act like I don’t see your hips shifting trying to encourage me to just fuck you already. I didn’t take you for a cock-thirsty slut,” he murmured. You slammed your fists down on the table again, shutting your eyes tightly and feeling your cheeks burn.

“I fucking hate you—” just as you were about to curse him out further, you felt his hips snap forward, cock burying itself inside of you causing you to gasp. You could feel him stretching you out, cock nestled in the deepest part of you.

“Fine,” he choked out, using his hand to grab onto your hand. He roughly rutted inside of you, fingers weaving with your own feeling the table shift with every thrust. His free hand grabbed onto the plush globe of your ass before smacking down on it, causing you to yelp. Feeling you squeeze and tighten against him was ecstasy, as he clenched his jaw to try to prevent himself from moaning your name repeatedly.

“I loathe you. I loathe you so much…but I loathe myself even more for wanting to be inside of you like this,” he choked out. He grunted once more ramming his cock deeper, dragging it along your gummy walls causing your back to arch.

“T-This was better than I could imagine.  Whoring yourself onto my cock for your studies. T-This was supposed to fix my contrary feelings but you made it worse,” he seethed. He grabs the globe of your ass again, watching his cock disappear inside of you repeatedly. He brings his thumb up against your other puckering hole, before pressing the tip of his thumb down inside of it causing you to moan and choke out at him.

“N-Not there! I-It’s embarrassing H-Haitham. F-Fuck!” you stammered out as your walls began to cave down onto his cock.

“Heh. My theory was right. You are into humiliation,” he mocked, causing you to whine again. His pace was brutal, the vibrations of his thrusts reverberating against the fat of your ass. You could feel his heavy balls striking themselves on your needy clit too.

“I hated the way you’d throw insults at me for just beating you at some stupid test, but archons I loved the determined look you always flash when you said you’d beat me. I loved our irritating game of cat and mouse.”

Alhaitham felt his stomach churn as it did before, cock pulsating and struggling to plunge inside of you from how much you had tightened. His pace had become much sloppier, still curved up to hit that favorable spot inside of you. With his eyes, glazed in lust, he noticed you were even meeting his pace.

“Haitham!” you cried out, as you once more reached your high. Alhaitham cursed under his breath swiftly leaving your folds. He didn’t want to cum inside of you yet. No, he wanted another opportunity for that, to witness your face so closely as he painted your insides with his cum.

He quickly guided you to his knees and rapidly jerked his cock in his hand. Your lips quivered, eyes focused on his haltering hips.

“F-Fuck (Y/N),” he choked out, cock twitching as globs of his cum spurted out and onto your face. You gasped once more feeling him press his softening cock across your cheek, smearing the cum all over as he caught his breath.

“So pretty for me…” he muttered, finally moving away. You scoffed again, wanting nothing more but to wipe your face off but yet, something about it made your cunt throb in delight. You tried fixing your hair and moving up before you felt Alhaitham wipe his cum with the fabric from his jacket.

“Now can you put up your end of the bargain? I don’t think we have much time left…” you whispered. You heard him chuckle. Something was cute about you avoiding his gaze now. Alhaitham placed a textbook on the table that the two of you just fucked before sitting down on the table. He swiftly grabbed your hips, having you hover against his half-soften cock before lining you up again and burying it inside you.

Hearing you whine, Alhaitham pressed his face to your nape feeling your body shiver against his.

“A-Again? God! You really are a pervert!” you stammered. He simply sighed, leaning up again. That irritation he had of you was creeping back up.

“Call me what you want. Reward and punishment system is said to have helped many students get the academic markings they want,” Alhaitham muttered, before leaning into your ear again. “You get it wrong, and I won’t fuck you the way you desperately want me to. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy my cock inside of you anymore.”

Your body jolted feeling him lazily thrust into you as a warning, as your hands grabbed onto the arm of the chair, closing your eyes. Your heart rapidly thumped in your chest, cheeks on fire once more.

“You are truly the worse,” you whined, shifting your hips as you felt his cock throb inside of you. He grunted.

“The feeling is mutual. Now, part one…what Fontainian author wrote this poem…”

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