ੈ✩‧₊˚ “pussy Put His Ass To Sleep, Now He Callin’ Me NyQuil…”

AMEN BESTIE😩

The AO3 search/filtering system has just ruined me for every other search function ever. I genuinely go onto websites, click 'advanced search' and then look at what paltry options they've given me in utter horror. How does anyone find anything? How do people survive?

oh this looks so fun holly!!! i would like to participate in rolling the dice please~

2 | genshin impact, zhongli (honestly are you even surprised lmao) | no genre, go crazy ;)

thank you and also congrats on 1k!! here's to many more bc you totally deserve it for all your amazing writing ✨💖🥂🍾💐

thank you so much dear!! ♡

i´m not surprised but still very much elated because i like writing zhongli i should do it more often; after all, i do quite enjoy the manner in which he chooses converse aka i like that he talks in fancy jsjshs

anyway, i hope you have as much fun reading as i had writing; without furtherado, let´s get the ball, or in this case the dice, rolling with...

IN VINO VERITAS

trope: drunken confession [space nr. 2]

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader

genre: crack, fluff

warnings: alcohol consumption

second constellation event masterlist

You overestimated your alcohol tolerance. Or underestimated Zhongli´s. Or both. Probably both.

Much to your delight, the consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had asked you to accompany him to dinner this evening at ‘Third-Round-Knockout’. Seeing as you had been harbouring feelings for the man for quite some time now, you had been quick to agree.

You were well aware of the restaurant´s rather strong drinks, yet, as you listened to Zhongli´s melodic voice describing scenes from a time long past, your attention lay not with your glass but with the charming geo user right in front of you. Somewhere far back in your mind, a tiny voice wondered how he could know all of these ancient stories in such great detail but the more often your hand moved towards your beverage, the quieter it got.

And that was how you found yourself basically glued to his lips as your cheeks radiated a tingly warmth that slowly spread all throughout your body. Under normal circumstances, you´d stare much less obviously and would at least try to follow his explanations but right now you couldn´t really care.

“(Y/n)?” At the call of your name you merely hummed in reply. “(Y/n), I cannot help but observe a distinctive lack of attentiveness in you tonight. I wonder whether this is due to the lateness of the hour or whether there is something weighing heavy on your mind?”

“Or perhaps,” he studied your glass and then your complexion, bringing a gloved hand up to cup your cheek, “tonight´s beverages are affecting you more than they do affect me. My apologies, I should have been more considerate towards your tolerance when choosing. Please do believe me, it was not my intention to leave you inebriated by the time we part ways, it's just that I usually find myself in the company of those who can never seem to drink enough.”

“No, no, I´m fine! That´s not it!” Zhongli slightly cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow as you hurriedly waved your hands in front of you. “It´s really not the alcohol! It´s actually your fault!”

“Oh?” It was impressive how quickly you went from moving a mile a minute to being completely frozen in place. When Zhongli, however, seemed more amused than offended, you remembered how to breathe again. “Would you please care to enlighten me as to how it is my fault you´re so distracted?”

“It´s because of your stupidly distracting face of course! I mean seriously, how is it fair for someone to be this handsome? Like hello?? Normal people exist, you know,” you grumbled, your head supported by your hand now. Breathing out a heavy sigh, you continued with a dismissive wave of your hand. “You´re always so nice and gentlemanly, too. Like, you´re beautiful and well-mannered and also, like, really smart and that's just not fair. And then every time you talk to me, my heart does that stupid fluttery thing and it´s just ugh– Like, you´re you and I ´m me and I just really don´t know how to tell you that I like you more than a friend.”

For a moment, both of you just stared at each other, Zhongli with his brows drawn in surprise and you with a slightly annoyed pout. Then, realisation struck.

“Oh my archons! It´s– I didn´t–” After not being able to come up with any kind of sentence whatsoever, you buried your face in your hands, the embarrassment heating you up more than any kind of liquor ever could. “Oh Rex Lapis, please let the ground swallow me whole.”

“There will be no need for that.” Zhongli´s deep chuckle made you peek out from between your fingers and seconds later any sort of shield was taken from you as firm hands gently grasped your wrists and pulled your hands down between you two. You almost missed how his thumbs drew deliberately slow circles onto the palms of your hands as you lost yourself in intense pools of molten gold and amber. “I must say, even in a situation such as this, you´re so very precious.”

“Huh?” was a rather intelligent remark on your end.

“You mentioned previously your heart does, may I directly quote you, ‘that stupid fluttery thing’ whenever you talk to me. And although I might have expressed myself a little differently were I in your shoes, I can assure you the sentiment is the very same.” Gifting you a rare smile as he watched your mouth part in an awed ‘o’ shape, he continued. “Without wanting to sound too forward, I would like to invite you to spend the night at my humble residence, mainly because I wish to see you taken care of properly. But I also cannot deny wanting to keep you close now that our feelings lay bare before one another. What say you?”

“That sounds very nice,” you yawned. 

“Then so shall it be.” Draping his long coat over your shoulders, Zhongli held out his hand for you to take as you left the restaurant and began your walk through the tranquillity of Liyue Harbor´s night. “By tomorrow I´d like you to repeat yourself again. I must be sure it is you and not the drink talking. You´ll do that for me, right, dearest?”

You hummed and nodded as you drew the shoulders of his coat more snugly against you, practically melting into the cosy fabric. The man next to you couldn´t help but chuckle at your actions.

“Perhaps,” he mused, “you could also take that chance to tell me more about my… what was it? Ah yes, my ‘stupidly distracting face’, to make use of your phrasing.”

“Only if you promise to stop teasing me about this.”

“Ah, you see, a promise is not unlike a contract. One should not give one´s word when one is not certain to also keep it.”

“Zhongli!”

tag list: @mccnstruck

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@justabitthirsty

girlie that's not a random headache u are dehydrated malnourished over caffeinated over stressed and sleep deprived

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the maid cafe at the school festival

expl: you offered to volunteer at the maid cafe being held in room 3-2 when you realized they needed more employees, you and your friend were having a great time until someone you knew walked in with their friends

a/n: i'm now going to begin taking requests for the polls that are found at the bottom of these ff's, feel free to send them in and i'll include them in this ff once i receive 3!

requests for polls

masterlist

second person writing no pronouns used

"I'm really sorry to ask you this, but could you two come to help us out? We really need the added assistance and few people are willing to do it..." The committee president said, looking feverishly ill from the amount of stress they were taking on at the school festival.

Before you could pipe up your opinion, your friend had already beat you to it and was offering to help out class 3-2 with their festival project.

You sighed, knowing this would be either embarrassing or publicly humiliating. Your friend got up and began following the committee president, which you did seconds later after you recollected your thoughts.

They took you into the classroom of 3-2, which was decorated with streamers at the front doors and tables set up like a cafe. You know what they were doing beforehand since it seemed to be the talk of the school for a short while. The people already working at cleaning the tables smiled at you and your friend, happy that at least someone had come.

"Here, you'll be wearing this for the time you're here, you can wear it over your clothes or you can wear the full outfit in the back." One of the workers said, it looked like she was holding the whole place together.

Your friend grabbed your hand and let out a quick, "Let's go," before walking into the closet area of the classroom. They began putting on the outfit they preferred, and you did the same, knowing you'd be here for a while just from how much they were beaming at the opportunity given to them.

In reality, it didn't go half as bad as you thought, you were having a lot of fun! And it seemed like the customers coming in were having fun too. The food was really good and the drinks were pretty easy to learn.

You heard the door open again and turned around to greet whoever came in, seeing as you were closest to it.

"Hey, come on in, how many will you be having to-"

Tighnari looked shocked when he saw it was you working here, and more shocked when he saw what you were wearing. You two knew each other from working well in science class as partners. The crush you had on him was a bit big, which was why you were so embarrassed for him to see you like this.

Your friend turned the corner and put a hand on your shoulder, smiling at the 3 boys who had walked in. "Hey, you guys! Come on over, I've got a table over here that's free." Leading them to the table closer to the windows in the back. You watched them walk away and tried to cool your face from the redness it got at that moment.

You weren't the one who was serving them, your friend did it for you. All you did was watch from the distance here and there to see what they were doing. What you didn't notice was Tighnari kept sending glances at you the whole time.

Cyno also seemed to notice this and nudged Aether next to him. The two boys looked as Tighnari took a sip of his drink but also glanced towards your back at the front of the room.

When your friend returned with the food, Cyno spoke, "Could you get that person to come over here real quick?" Tighnari lowered his eyebrows at his friend in an irritated matter. Your friend looked where Cyno was pointing and smiled, nodding and telling them they'd be right back.

When you finally walked up to them, Tighnari avoided your eyes while Cyno smiled brightly up at you.

"My friend here was wondering if he could get your number?" Cyno said while pointing toward the embarrassed green-haired boy. Tighnari looked up at you, silent, and you smiled while taking the napkin on their table and writing down your number.

Aether looked shocked, Cyno smirked, and Tighnari blushed even more when you handed it to him and walked off.

Both boys patted him on the back when they left, and a 20-dollar tip with your name on it was left on the table in Tighnari's handwriting.

The only reason that Xiao came in the first place was that Aether suggested the idea, Ganyu wanted to come along, and Venti practically dragged him from his spot in the tofu booth.

That was when the person to greet them was none other than you, Xiao's crush for the 3 years they'd attended high school. His face was flat and empty when he saw you, masking the absolute embarrassment in him when you saw he came to a place like this.

Venti chatted you up the whole time you served their table, and Xiao sat closest to the window and said nothing while he stared outside of it. Ganyu was a sweetheart and asked if there were any vegan meals being served in the nicest manner possible. Aether was also very nice and asked if the chefs could make something last minute for his sister before they left.

But Xiao? Quiet as a mouse, you even looked over at him every time they called you over to their table. Sometimes, they didn't even call you over to order, they just wanted to chat with you.

It worried you a little bit, you knew that he was normally quiet, but he seemed even more on edge today. It changed when you walked over again on your own will seeing as you had nobody else to serve for a bit.

"Xiao? Are you alright?" You asked with a worried expression on your face. The sound of your voice calling his name caused him to nearly shoot out of his chair. Venti, Ganyu, and Aether also looked toward their flustered friend. All the poor boy could do was nod and keep looking out the window, his face beginning to match the half-eaten caramel apple on Venti's plate.

"He's just shy, right Xiao!" Venti said while patting him on the back obnoxiously. It was like you were staring at a statue with how stiff he was in his chair. And it continued to be that way the whole time they stayed.

Feeling awful for him, when the other 3 were busy talking to another worker there, you snuck around and placed a small plate of almond tofu in front of him. His eyes immediately shot to where your arms were placed on either side of him while you reached over behind him.

"Sorry that you're feeling this way Xiao," You said while patting him on the back a bit. His face darkened in blush, but a small smile was evident while you walked away to keep doing your work.

When you returned to the empty table, unable to send them off because it got so busy, you saw the empty tofu plate and a 5-dollar bill with Xiao's number underneath it.

Heizou was more interested in staying where the puzzle-themed booths took place, but with how persistent his friends were he finally agreed and came along for the ride.

His shock was not as exaggerated as the other boys were, he was happier to see a familiar face in a place like this. Now, Heizou was definitely a little surprised to see you working here out of all the fun booths and cafes surrounding the school, but he wasn't one to judge.

It wasn't until you were the one to be serving them, did he finally put more attention onto you. It wasn't like he didn't know who you were, his crush on you lingered for a while now ever since the two of you partnered up for math this year.

It just seemed like seeing you in such an outfit made him pay even more attention to you, so much that he didn't even listen to what his friends had to say because he was so busy staring at you across the room.

You had a lot of people's attention that was for sure, practically being handed tips left and right as you walked by the tables you previously served. His jealousy boiled a bit in his stomach, but he tried to ignore that feeling and keep enjoying the time spent with his friends.

Kazuha even asked him if he was alright at one point, seeing his friend look a little irritated in a direction he couldn't quite catch. But Heizou just shook it off as he was a little weirded out being there. Which was a lie, he liked how lively it was and how kind the workers were.

Heizou finally reached his breaking point when he saw someone try and flirt with you while you served another table. He got up from his seat and excused himself from his friends with a smile. Walking over to you with an irritated look on his face and standing behind you with his arms crossed.

The person flirting with you seemed to stop talking, and you smiled in a confusing manner before turning around and seeing Heizou really close to you.

"Oh! Heizou! What's the matter?" You said with a tilt of your head at his appearance. His eyes were still glaring at the person in front of you two, but a couple seconds later he looked down at you with the softest gaze and smile.

"I'm alright, I was wondering if you could come back over to our table for a bit." His words made you smile at him, lightly patting his bulging muscular shoulders that were tense from the other person's move on you.

"You could have just waved me over! Come on, let's go." Smiling at him before turning to walk back to Kazuha and the others. He gave the person one last nasty look before he turned to you with a kind gaze and followed you.

Alhaitham was not shocked, nor surprised to see you here. He was more interested in just sitting down to chat up a conversation than anything else. Kaveh suggested they get a bite to eat, and this was the closest thing to them.

Alhaitham knew you, sure, but he wasn't in the same grade as you, being in the grade above and only really seeing you when you'd be walking around the school with your friend or attending school events like this one.

That's why he was so interested in finally getting a chance to speak to you more. Seeing as the crush he held for a while that was only flamed with short glances in the hallway and mentions of your name could finally ignite more.

And ignite it did, you were really nice to them the whole time and even helped the 2 boys navigate the slightly confusing menu that the committee leader put together. You asked if they had allergies if they preferred different seating since the sun was blaring a little bit into the room, etc.

Kaveh even noticed that his friend seemed to smile more when you came around to ask how everything was. A smirk led onto his face when he realized it was good bait to tease Alhaitham. Saying something embarrassing in order to brighten up his face and get him blushing just as you were rounding the corner to check on them again.

"How is- Oh my! Alhaitham are you okay? You don't have a cold do you?" You said before instinctively reaching down to press a hand to his forehead. The small action blew up his face in a stream of red while Kaveh nearly fell out of his chair laughing.

"I'm fine, really," Alhaitham spoke with a smaller voice than his usual confident one. Kaveh continued to laugh at his friend who almost never lost his cool while you kept asking if he needed anything to help.

"Please let me know if there's anything I can get you." Your worried tone made it even worse for him, the poor boy was shifting in his seat from how embarrassed he was.

When you finally walked away, the glare that sent Kaveh's way from Alhaitham was the icing on the cake. The blonde kept mocking his friends' small tone when replying to you. At one point, you even walked by to serve another table and placed a glass of water next to him. Which he couldn't even smile to appreciate before his eyes caught Kaveh's cheeky ones.

A note was left before they left, from Alhaitham, apologizing for the events that happened, along with two 20-dollar bills. You smiled looking down at the note and folded it to save in your pocket for later. Why had you never paid more attention to him before?

---

YOU👏HAVE👏EVERY👏MFING👏RIGHT👏TO👏BE👏PROUD😩😤😩😤🤌🤌✨✨🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Helping A Friend Out

cw: sub!thoma, dom!reader, gn!reader, crying, handjob, penetration, cheating (implied ayato and thoma relationship)

a/n: this is probably one of the best i’ve ever written ngl

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Thoma could feel your stare digging through his back as he talked with the Traveler and Paimon. The thought made him nervous, although he tried to regain his composure while he continued his conversation.

“Thoma, are you alright?” Paimon asked him, seeing him a bit shaken up.

“Oh, me? Of course! I’m doing just fine! What was it you wanted to ask again?” He pardoned, this time actually listening to whatever the two in front of him were saying.

Despite giving an ear, he couldn’t ignore your eyes. And when he looked over, he shivered when he saw you lick your lips as if you were undressing him with your eyes. Thoma couldn’t help but to imagine himself being rimmed by your tongue, causing him to feel a slight disturbance from under.

“Thoma! You’re not listening to Paimon at all! Hmph!”

“Excuse my friend over here, it seems he’s a bit sick. Probably overworked himself at the Kamisato’s” Your voice lingered in his ear, before he knew it, you were placing your head on his shoulder.

Moreover, what were you insinuating with your words?

Paimon gasped as the Traveler remains unbothered. “A friend of Thoma’s? He’s reaaaally nice, you know? He always gets Paimon and the Traveller discounts when he treats us to food!”

“Is that so? I guess Thoma gets paid a lot by the Kamisato’s, huh? I wonder why…” You make eye contact with Thoma, who’s feeling a bit under the weather.

“Well, duh? Thoma’s the nicest!” Paimon exclaimed, making you laugh at her words. She’s not wrong at that.

“Sorry to cut off the conversation, but I must escort him home. A sick person should stay inside, after all.”

Traveler stepped in forward as if saying that they’d be willing to help. You only left them a smile before leaving, a suspicious look being given to you by the savior of Inazuma.

The walk to your abode was silent. However, Thoma could hear his heart pounding of what’s to come when he enters. Opening the door, you urged him to go inside.

“I see that you’re the talk of the city.”

“N-No, they were just exaggerating!” He defended himself, even knowing that you probably wouldn’t believe it.

“Well, I suppose that one’s money mustn’t go to waste. After all, Ayato surely must pay a lot for a night with you.” You had him fumbled, how did you know that he had a relationship with him?

“I-It’s nothing like that.”

“No need to lie to me, Thoma. So, how much is it?”

“It’s really nothing like what you’re thinking of…” He answered once more, Thoma didn’t seem to be lying to you from your observations. You finally concluded on what he was referring to.

“So lovers then. That would make sense. Still, of course Ayato would gift such extravagant riches, wouldn’t he?”

Ayato knew that this was wrong. He shouldn’t be responding to your flirtatious manner, just because his lover was currently busy doesn’t mean that he should be participating in such affairs. But who was he to say these things when he was having such lustful thoughts of you just from earlier.

“Aah!” Your hands feeling up his crotch accidentally made him moan, head rolling back to your chest.

“It must be hard having such a busy partner, right Thoma? He’s got you all pent up like this…”

“N-No! Hmm! Aah—hah! S-Stop it, (Name)…” You now travelled to his cock already erect and leaking precum just from your slight touches. He’s touch starved, poor thing.

Thoma is quivering from your strokes, it just felt so wrong but so, so good! What were you doing this to him? “Aren’t you so unfaithful? About to cum from a friend’s hand…”

“I-I’m not!! Hn!” He stuttered out, his cock being unable to take no more of your fondling.

“Hm? Why were you already hard while talking to the traveler then? Surely, you must not think I’m a fool to not realizing that you were fantasizing about me?”

Thoma cried out holding his best not to cum from someone else than Ayato. “I-I wasn’t thinking o-of you!”

“Yes, yes. Keep lying to me, darling.”

Thoma screamed uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face as he orgasmed not to his partner, but you. Before he was able to sort out his thoughts, he fell unconscious much to your demise.

That was the first and last time that Thoma would ever swore to go near you. Unfortunately things did not go to plan as he rests on his bed alone, no one next to him to give him warmth and instead of calling Ayato, he thinks of you.

Unbeknownst to him, his feet reached your door and you gladly opened up your place to him whenever he wants.

That was when his actions became a repetition and a routine. He couldn’t even count the nights he had spent in your place.

“(Name)! Agh! M-More!” Thoma wept for you as you continued hitting his prostate, pounding against him until he drools on the bed sheets like a dog.

His walls were yours now, you’ve done it so many times it actually felt like you were a part of him and it just felt wrong for you not to be inside him.

“Mm! Aah! S-So good!”

You spank him hard, making him choke on his own moans. He unconsciously drizzled some of him cum, dripping down to his thighs as you push him to the point that he faces the wall.

“(Name), P-Please! Let m-me!” He begged you, knowing that you’d get mad at him for finishing without your permission.

“Say it then, Thoma. Say what you truly are.”

“Aah! T-Thank you! I’m a little cumslut! I’m y-your cumslut! Only yours!”

“Good boy.”

Thoma finally orgasmed, every part of his body aching as you let him fall onto the floor on his own. Streaks of his fluids showered the wall, tainting it with all of his juices. Sadly, despite how many times you two had sex, he knew it would never blossomed into something more even if he knew he was starting to fall for you.

He returned to his place alone, thighs shaking from too much pleasure that you had given him only to be surprised that Ayato was right there waiting for him.

“Where were you, love?” He was worried for his lover, tired and breathless. Did someone ask him to deliver something this late at night?

Ah, he was so kind to him.

“I was helping a friend out.”

---

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.”

---

THINGS GOJO SATORU SAYS IN BED

“hey—no teasing. take it all. ngh .. fuck me..”

“you cryin?”

“lay back, and let me do all the work. i just want you to sit there and look pretty.”

“try to keep your legs up, i know it’s hard. but try for me beautiful.”

“want me to help you?”

“get it wet .. just like that. you know i like it sloppy.”

“just wait baby .. fuck—give me a damn minute.”

“does it hurt when i fuck you like this? hm? why are you squeezing me so tight then?

“tell me you love it .. fuck, you’re so dirty.”

“arch it baby .. there you go angel.”

“nuh-uh, open those pretty legs.”

“don’t make me cuff your hands, bet you’d like that huh?”

“you’re weak here .. right?”

“keep your eyes on me.”

“you look so fucking beautiful .. such a little slut for me when i eat that pretty cunt out .. i should do it more often. y’so soft for me now.”

“you can do it pretty .. you can take it—shit!”

“want me to spank that pussy? lay back then,”

“give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“one’s enough for you? think that pussy’s begging for another.”

“don’t be embarrassed .. i love it when you squirt for me.”

“you want it so bad? beg.”

---

ARGHHH 😩🤌🙌🙌🙌🙌🤌✨

He’s jealous.

Such an emotion is rare for Tsukishima, and he hates the feeling of it. The “big green monster” that he often hears from those around him has never plagued him—never made him feel the need to crumble into a hole and wallow in self-pity.

However, when he sees you smile from afar, touching the arm of a man unknown, his skin crawls.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you—Tsukishima knows good and well the amount of love you harbor for him. Butterfly kisses that spread across his skin after a rough day, warm hands clutching his on a warm summer’s day, and eyes always fixed on his as if he knew all the secrets the universe holds.

He knows of your devotion and he’s assured of it.

Keep reading

---

OML LEVI'S PART UGH HE NEEDS TO GIVE HIMSELF CREDIT FR like cmon he has a fish he named henry he's obviously superior 🙄

i saw something like playing truth or dare and having to kiss the prettiest person in the room and thought you’d do this great with the om boys! thank you if you end up accepting this request!!

"kiss the prettiest person in the room" with the older brothers

includes: lucifer, mammon, levi x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1k | rated t | m.list

a/n: okay this was super fun to write omg i hope you enjoy. my inbos is open to chat, req, or leave feedback, so come say hi!!

please reblog 0-0

diavolo is holding another sleepover, and you’re all crammed into one of his living rooms, sitting in a rough circle, with some on the couches, some in chairs, and some on the floor

you're on one of the smaller couches, sharing it with solomon and when the sorcerer gets this glint in his eyes you know he had something up his sleeve

“let’s play truth or dare,” he suggests, and though you suspect the game will devolve into chaos, many of the brothers are quickly on board

the game goes a few rounds before solomon calls on you. “mc, truth or dare?” 

you balk; the dare will no doubt be something intense and possibly humiliating, but choosing truth would probably be much worse. “dare,” you say, as confidently as you can

solomon grins wickedly. “kiss the prettiest person in this room.” 

you gape at him even as various protests are raised around the room. 

“no, mc does it or gets punished for thickening out,” solomon insists, and you recall the punishment, which is to buy a dinner next time you’re all out, something your poor wallet really can’t handle. 

“i’ll do it,” you say, and a hush falls over the room as they all wait for you to pick. 

lucifer watches you look between him and his brothers, curiosity burning in his chest. he wants to say that you don’t have to do this, to make solomon choose something else - he should say that, but there's a deep part of him that needs to know how this will end.

you bite your lip, worrying it between your teeth and he wishes he were a better man.

lucifer watches with rapt anticipation as you stand, walking in his direction. but diavolo and simeon sit on either side, both likely candidates.

“u-um,” you say, coming to a stop in front of him! “may i?”

at any other point in time he’d be smooth, suave, but surprise has struck him dumb and he can only nod. you lean down, carefully moving closer, and lucifer knows he should shut his eyes but he can’t, enraptured by the sight of you.

the kiss is chaste and brief, nothing to write him about, but lucifer knows it’ll haunt him at night.

cheers erupt from around him as you pull back, likely embarrassed, and just look at him for a moment.

perhaps lucifer should be offended that you think he’s pretty. a thousand words have been used to describe him over the decades, but to his knowledge pretty was never one of them. but he’s rather touched instead.

you duck your head, returning back to your seat. and lucifer can hardly pay attention to the continuation of the game, too preoccupied with remembering how your breath had fanned his cheek, how your soft heat had surrounded him.

he’ll be damned if that’s his last kiss with you, he resolves, and diavolo nudges him mischievously, no doubt aware of where his thoughts have gone.

mammon can’t help giving you a cocky grin, making a come-hither motion playfully. to his surprise, you actually do, stepping carefully over belphie, who’s on the floor, resting his back on the base of the couch he’s sitting on.

“not how i imagined our first kiss, but i’ll take it,” mammon says, joking to hide his nerves. he still can’t believe that you’d approached him. maybe it was because he was the safe choice.

either way, it felt like a dream come true.

“not how i imagined it either,” you say with a little laugh, and mammon short circuits, because you had imagined it too?

you lean down, pressing your lips to his, and mammon feels like all of his bones settle, like fireworks are acting beneath his skin. all-too-soon you pull away, and he can’t help but follow you before he gets a hold of himself.

catcalls and yells sound from around the room, perhaps some cries of outrage, but mammon can’t bring himself to care, instead focused on the way you still lean over at him, looking down at him with a glint in your eyes.

“nice as that was,” you say lowly, only so he can hear, “and believe me, it was nice, i’d much rather try again when we’re alone.”

a strangled noise escapes mammon and you smile, moving back to your seat like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just turned him into a new man with a single press of your lips. god, he loves you.

levi deflates when he hears the dare, knowing he’s out of the running. in a room filled with all of them, he’d never get picked. he can’t even bring himself to watch, staring at his lap.

it’s only when you cough slightly that he looks up. you rub the ack of your neck, bashful. “is it alright if i kiss you?”

“m-me?” levi asks, looking behind him as if anyone would be there. of course, there’s no one. you nod.

“i mean, as long as you’re cool with it, yeah.”

“you think i’m the prettiest?” he can’t help but confirm, and you smile a little bit.

“i mean, duh. you don’t give yourself enough credit, you know.”

you’ve got to be pranking him. except, you’re not that mean. so that would make you… serious? oh my god, he’s going to die! you think he’s pretty!

“you can, uh, you can kiss me,” he manages slyly, and you cup his face, hands warm against his jaw. he’s frozen as you lean down, eyes sliding shut. your lips finally touch his after what seems like an eternity of waiting, and levi instantly feels boneless, melting into your gentle, almost reverent touch.

you pull away, and his eyes snap open. levi stares up at you, eyes wide, and you seem to remember yourself, hands falling away from his face embarassedly. he already misses them.

the room is in a clamor but he can only think of you, only watch as you give him a little smile before returning to your seat, unable to meet his eyes for more than a few moments during the rest of the game. not that he’s able to meet yours for any longer.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

the end, the end, the end. / hayakawa aki x gn!reader, spoilers, angst, hurt no comfort, mild sexual content, minors dni. word count: 3.1k

Aki spent his entire trip to Hokkaido thinking about you. When his thoughts begin to wander like this, he isn't given much of a choice; you occupy every space in his mind. Each stream of consciousness always seems to lead right back where he left it — You. 

Hokkaido is cold, empty, and manages to suck the life out of everything it touches. The sky is a certain shade of melancholy blue and twilight. It's the kind of atmosphere that causes him to slip into his usual routine of drowning in old, tired memories and his own reflections. His heart and his brain don't spare him much pity these days. 

Frost creeps at the edges of the windows. A veil of snow falls incessantly and swirls with the wind, obscuring any semblance of a view, leaving him only able to see what lingers in the back of his mind: graves made of polished stone, loaded guns, failed attempts to quit smoking, forgetting how to say a prayer because it's been too long. Getting cold feet, and trying to live an honest life, even though you know it's far too late for that. 

The expedition to kill the Gun Devil is coming soon, creeping closer, and Aki's got one arm, half a heart, and way, way too many regrets. This is the moment he worked so hard to get to, this is the big crescendo his entire life has been building towards, and now look at what's become of him. All he can do is reach up, brush his fingers over the stub where his arm used to be and wonder how the hell things got this far, this bad. Did the world do this to him, or did he do this to himself? 

So weak, so soft-hearted — He can't fight like this. He'll end up making more contracts with devils just to stand a chance. Sacrificing more of himself, even though there isn't much left of him to give. 

He's not prepared; honestly, when was he ever prepared? From the moment he became a devil hunter, putting himself on this path, he always imagined he was settling for an unreachable goal. But now, he's come face to face with the end, with everything he thought he wanted and… God, he just can't do this. 

Life is so damn fragile. Aki has been walking this thin line between life and death, living on the borrowed time he takes for granted. With all of his shitty decisions and past mistakes, he should be lucky he got this far. But if he goes through with this, when he goes on this mission, he's really going to die, isn't he? 

There's a letter sitting on his coffee table back home. One he meant to send before he left, but never did. A letter he mulled over again and again and again, read hundreds of times, rewritten even more so. 

Handwritten in pen with shaky letters, sentences constantly interrupted by scribbles over mistakes. The paper is see-through where tears have fallen and bloomed out over the page, stained with the dark ashes flicked from one too many cigarettes. It's sealed with a stamp, tucked neatly into an envelope. Addressed to you. 

Hey.  I'm leaving. I won't be coming back. Don't try to look for me.  I'm sorry for everything. You don't have to forgive me.  Take care of yourself.  I love you. Goodbye. 

I love you. Those words are particularly messy. Nearly unreadable, but still tangibly there. Aki isn't sure if they simply aren't true or if he just wants them to not be true. 

Did Aki ever love you? No, he wrote those words out of mere obligation, that's all. Because I love you is what you say to someone when you're speaking to them for the last time, when you're never going to see them again, and you want to leave them with something good. 

Because I love you is what you tell someone after you've spent nights lip-locked, kissing each other 'til sunrise (No, he was drunk, you were drunk, it doesn't count). I love you is what you whisper to someone when you're about to drift off, holding them in your arms close to yourself, like they'll disappear once you let go (He was exhausted, he didn't mean to say it, the words just slipped out — It doesn't matter, you were asleep, anyway).

Aki felt his heart twist into unknown shapes when he wrote those words. Crushed, chewed up, spat out, his teeth stained red with blood. I love you consumes him from the inside out, all the way down to the core. The thought of it alone is enough to hurt, to make his chest ache. 

Aki didn't love you, but he could have. Aki didn't truly love you, because he has only one arm to hold you, half a heart to love you, and dwindling time to spend beside you. Aki didn't love you because he thought it'd be easier not to, but now he thinks he might have only made things harder. 

How do you stop loving someone when you never said you did? Everything was supposed to be fake, you were supposed to be momentary. Now, you're forever imprinted into his timeline. Your soul is felt in his veins, in his lungs as he breathes, deep in between the structure of his ribs. 

Aki finds himself wishing that one day, you'd wake up and realize you hate him. You'll despise his existence and look at him like you want to destroy him. It's alright, who can blame you? This is how things are supposed to be. Go on and say it. 

You'd do what he's been terrified to: you'd tell him to leave, beg him to go far away from here and forget about you. In the end, it will be what's best, so you never have to see him again. So you don't have to live with the weight that he's going to die and it won't be peaceful. Instead, it will be worthless, hollow. 

Maybe then, maybe if you hated him, all of this would be so much easier. If you stopped staring at him like he's irreplaceable, like he is everything to you. If you didn't cry on his shoulder and hold him tightly when he comes home from a mission half-dead. 

If you never lived and blossomed in what remains of him, flowers to fill his throat, soft petals in his dying heart — Perhaps then, he'd find it easier to run from you. 

How do you manage to swallow down the things you never said, when you know that if you do, they'll go unspoken forever? Those words — I love you — will die pitifully alongside you, buried beneath the soil with your body. It doesn't matter; he never had the right to say them in the first place. The memories of lingering touches and quiet moments will be the only traces. 

Aki could have loved you, and that's the problem. That's the worst part of it all. Aki could have loved you, and you could have been his, but he could have never been yours. 

Aki is a hopeless tragedy. He is crimson blood that never stops spilling, deep purple bruises that never fully heal. And he belongs to no-one but this horrible system, to hunting devils until his body is spent and they've taken every last thing from him. The one thing he refuses to let them have is you. 

He promised to himself this: to keep you as far away from devil hunting as possible, by any means necessary. Even if he has to lose you in the process. You can't experience the same horrors as him, you won't. At least then, if he loses you this way, he will have finally lost someone of his own accord. At least he finally has a choice. 

You can't save him. No-one can, not even himself. Not even whatever God he decides to send his prayers to, in hopes there's someone out there to take pity on him. It's far too late to try and pick up the pieces. Aki belongs to this life for as long as it'll allow, until it decides to swallow him whole. Until hell decides it's ready to take him. 

You can't keep him forever, but you can have him on fleeting nights, during brief moments of solace. He comes home from work exhausted and weary, but willing to give you what's left of him. You chain smoke cigarettes on the balcony together, late into the night. Standing shoulder to shoulder, although it never feels close enough. Aki smokes each one down to ash, the nicotine soothing the ache, finally shutting up his brain. 

When you met, you were just two people looking for a vice, trying to find something, someone who's anything like those cigarettes. You wanted someone who would make you forget about the emptiness, Aki wanted someone who would make him feel whole. 

He kisses your lips 'til he can't breathe, so that his tongue no longer aches with the weight of all those words left unsaid. He makes love to you until sunlight is creeping through the blinds, everything hazy, tender, impossibly close, so he can feel something besides nothing at all. 

He savors these moments, drowns in every press of your warm hands on his cold skin. Your fingertips trail down his back, along his spine. Between his shoulder blades, then over his chest, tracing every scar he's ever tried to hide, and his body shivers at the touch. His hands tremble when he holds you; they weren't made for this. His breath comes in ragged gasps. Aki shouldn't do this — His touch is utter decay, enough to stain you with his existence — and he knows it, but he can't stop. 

The addiction courses through his veins, settling in the cavity of his chest every time he looks at you. His head is fuzzy, with fluffy cotton clouding his thoughts. He feels it bleed over whenever he gazes down at you under him, skin soft like silk, limbs sprawled out like a fallen angel. A sin worth sacrificing everything for. 

It's selfish. It isn't like him to do this, to act in this way. How could this happen, what has he done? His story was never supposed to go like this. It's hopeless, and he has left you doomed to suffer. But even so, he adores you, as much as a man who's going to die in a few years, months, weeks, possibly can. 

Over and over again, he falls for you, stumbling into the same temptation. A moth drawn to a flame, and when he catches alight, it burns, but it's beautiful. As he turns to ash, with his last breath, he will whisper to the world, It was worth it. 

He can't help himself, because the way his name falls from your lips sounds more divine than the way anyone else has ever said it. Aki seems to have the most meaning when you're the one to utter the syllables. Hayakawa doesn't sound like just another horrible, heavy weight he has to bear when it's spoken from your mouth. His very existence is more precious to you than it is to the world. 

Aki didn't love you, and you weren't together, but you were something, weren't you? Your circumstance wasn't just a hookup or a mere distraction anymore. You meant something. You meant more to him than his own stupid life ever did. Something, whatever that might mean to this fucked up situation, but something. 

When he loops back to the beginning, Aki knows there's a thousand excuses as to why he never sent that damn letter. He was scared, he thought it sounded stupid, he couldn't figure out what he'd say when he handed it to you. And most of all, he wasn't ready to say goodbye. He'll be ready eventually, he told himself. There will come a day when he's strong enough to let you go. Turns out, Aki is a whole lot weaker than he thought he was. 

So he delayed it, delayed it, delayed it. Pushed it back further and further. Once again, selfish. Just one more night with you, then he'll send it. Give him one more day, one more rising sun. One more kiss, one more chance to hold you close. Then, then, he'll be ready. 

Every postponement is just another letter he has to crumple and re-write. Aki has to find a sense of closure somewhere. If he slips the letter in your mailbox, runs as far as his legs will take him, will he be able to stop himself from turning back? If he knocks on your door, places the tear-stained envelope in your open hands, and presses his lips to yours one last time, will he even be able to pull away? 

When he gets back from this trip, he'll see you again, and he knows it's going to hurt. In another universe, things didn't unfold like this. He was going to leave you, he was going to disappear. Now, it's nothing but knowledge he has to live with. You'll cup his face in your hands and wipe the tears from his eyelashes. You will never know. 

There's only a matter of time before Aki is called for his last mission. Then, he's going to be forced to say goodbye, and it doesn't matter if he's ready or not. He doesn't want to die. Of course he doesn't want to die, he's utterly terrified. What will it be like, what's going to happen to him? Will his life be snuffed out, like his cigarette pressed into the ashtray, or will it linger like a curse, his ghost to haunt you? 

Hopefully not. Aki always longed for a death that was quick and painless, one that he wouldn't know was coming. The kind of ending everyone longs for, he supposes. For a brief moment, he wonders: would a death beside you feel better, or worse? Wishful thinking. As if he'd ever have a choice in the matter. As if, in this pathetic life he's led, he'd ever be lucky enough to die that way. 

Aki can't choose how he departs. He'll never be able to, but whether or not he leaves you of his own choice, like he intended, is up to him. 

So, he'll write the letter. He's going to let himself have one more night with you, and then, that will be enough. You'll wake up to an empty bed, to him gone, and an envelope on your nightstand. He'll have his last chance to say everything he wants to say. 

I'm leaving on the expedition to defeat the Gun Devil. I am certain I won't be coming back. This is goodbye, for me and you.  I'm grateful I got to meet you. I don't deserve you, I don't think I ever deserved you. I wish there's some reality out there where I did.  Remember to throw out all of my belongings. Move away from this place, if you have to. The money from my will should be enough to live on. I want there to be nothing left to remind you of me.  Smoke one last cig, for my sake. Then quit. Wash the sheets until they no longer smell like me. Don't read the newspaper the morning after. I don't want you to see my name in the obituaries. Forget about me, in every way you can, in every sense of the word. For your own good.  I love you. I've always loved you.  Hey, I know it's going to hurt. I'm sorry. But take care of yourself, for me. Please.  In the life after this one, I'll come and find you, okay? 

Hokkaido is cold, so cold. Aki has come to deeply know the way the cold numbs everything, from the knuckles of your bony fingers down to the end of your toes. The way winter envelops you, the way it takes you. But it doesn't numb what you feel inside: the aching love-sickness, nor the burning home-sickness. His body is freezing, a chill twists up his spine, but his heart won't settle, his brain won't quit. 

Thankfully, he is nearly done here. He'll head home tomorrow morning. You'll be waiting for him at the station, when he gets off his train. You'll hug him, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, his arm around your back, and he'll wish you'd never let go. There's both pain and comfort to be found in that. 

Aki will forget about everything for a moment all too short. Then, he'll leave behind the letter. He'll fight the Gun Devil, he'll get blown to bits. And when his flesh and blood is smeared across the sand, he knows the last thing he'll be thinking about is if you're okay. 

Are you watching the news right now? I hope you aren't. Are you safe? Don't worry, by the time you return to the beach, the waves will have washed away the last of me. 

Aki can imagine, if you were watching, you'd end up running to him. Always running after him, while he's trying to run away from you. You'd hold his body, lace his weak fingers with your own. His grip is cold and loose. Through his eyes slowly growing dim, you'll see your own reflection, and even though it hurts, Aki will smile at you. Your arms are a bed of roses, perfect to die in. Blood welling at his tongue, he'll kiss you, for one last time. You'll taste it on his lips. 

He should get some sleep. Without you, it won't be a proper sense of rest. But his thoughts will stay silent, at least, for a little while. 

I will love you, even in ruin. You'll live, you'll heal, you'll do the things we always wanted to do but never could, and then, for once, I'll be happy.  The memories of me, the way my voice sounds, the way my touch feels — They'll all fade, slowly, eventually.  If I had more time, I would have spent it all beside you. Your hand in mine, until I'm nothing but bone. 

Aki shuts the curtains and crawls into his make-shift bed. The sheets feel chilly. Shadows dance on the wall, his eyes burn, his breath is sharp. Sleep comes in restless intervals, accompanied by scattered dreams. Some are more like nightmares, but some are dreams of something better, something warmer. A reverie made of dripping honey and soft snow, of a clear sky filled with stars and a heart cleansed from all its regrets. Dreams of where this loop always leads back to — Dreams of you. 

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