Archive of Our Own ^beta

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HELLO ALL!!!! 

welcome to the seakicker fe3h kinktober saga! just a little introduction chapter <3 this is probably my most amibitious writing project to date, as well as my first time participating in kinktober, as ive spent a Lot of time cooking up 31 lovely little sinful fics for all of u. hope u all enjoy <333

just some info before we begin! 

1) all fics take place post-time skip unless explicitly specified to be pre-time skip. all characters are 18+! any character that takes place in a pre time skip fic is 18+ (sylvain, mercedes, hubert, etc) also reader is not byleth in any fics unless otherwise specified like in the seteth fic

2) every fic will be between 550-1000 words, give or take. none of my usual 3000-9000 word fics since i had to write 31 of these, i dont even want to imagine how much time i would spend every day writing 31 9000 word fics every single day for a month. i would burn myself out after like day 2

3) sorry if your fav wasnt written for, i wrote as many different characters as i could and wanted to do. there were some characters i did not want to write for bc i either just dont like them and wouldn't have fun writing for them or bc i couldnt come up with a good nsfw scenario for them... all of the characters who got 0 fics ran so sylvain and dimitri, who have 5 prompts each, could walk </3

i know off the top of my head i did not write for lorenz, petra, leonie, any of the church besides seteth, annette, plus a few others. 

5) kinks will be in the notes of each chapter. im not tagging this fic with 3890094859 different kinks, tagging it with 3890094859 different characters is already spammy enough, so just read through the notes and chapter titles of each to get a feel for what kinks are involved

thats about it.... enjoy!

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“I didn’t think you’d be into this sort of thing,” Sylvain breathes into your ear, breath hot against the side of your face. “Every other girl I’ve ever been with only wants me to be their sweet, loving, dream boyfriend. Imagine my surprise when you asked me to treat you like my useless whore.” 

You’re pushed up hard against the wall of his bedroom, clothes long discarded, with his cock shoved deep inside of you. He has one hand threaded through your hair, shoving one side of your face hard against the wall, the other stilling on your hip to ground him while he thrusts into you recklessly. Your back is arched, hips shoved back towards him as he fucks you roughly, hips smacking firmly against your ass with each brutal thrust. 

“Not that I hate it,” he continues with a chuckle. “It’s a nice change of pace, getting to use a girl as hot as you as my personal slut. You like being treated like this, don’t you? You like getting used by me?”

You nod as best you can given your current position, moaning, his words sending shivers down your spine. You didn’t expect Sylvain, whose language is always flowery and full of nothing but praises, to be so good at talking down to you like you’re no higher than an insect. When did he find the opportunity to practice?

“You feel so good, babe,” he grunts, sinking his cock as deep inside of you as physically possible. It has your knees buckling — you can feel every last inch of him inside of you as he buries himself in you with ease. “You make the perfect cocksleeve.” 

As if to remind you of your place beneath him, Sylvain digs his fingernails into your scalp and presses your cheek firmer against the wall, sadistically relishing the way you moan and gasp with masochistic glee. You’re loving this; he can tell. 

Sylvain continues to thrust in and out of you with abandon, smirking darkly at how adorably submissive you look right now — you look like a true slut, moaning and begging breathlessly for more despite how utterly terribly he’s speaking to you. 

“You like that, slut?” he asks. “You like getting used for my pleasure like this? You take me so fucking well, whore. You were made to get used like this.” 

Whimpering softly, your hips jerk back against his firmly, wordlessly begging him to go even harder and faster than he already is — if that’s even possible; his pace is already bruising enough as is. 

“Say it,” Sylvain commands harshly. “Say you love being my whore.” 

You blush deep, hesitant, embarrassment keeping you from heeding his command. Your lips open as if you’re trying to speak, but not a single word leaves them. 

“I thought I asked you something, slut,” he says with a breathless laugh. “Remember your place. Are you really going to try and disobey me when you’re under me like this?”

“No, no, I won’t,” you gasp. “I’m your whore, Sylvain.” 

“That’s right,” he replies, hips slapping against your ass wetly. Sylvain didn’t think he would be this into degrading a girl and making her shake, but some sadistic part of him really enjoys saying terribly filthy things to you and watching you shiver and blush. “You’re my slut. You’re making me feel so good, whore.” 

Sylvain’s hand leaves your hip to loop around your thigh before sliding between your legs. His fingers find your clit with ease, rubbing hard circles into it to make you come undone before him. Your knees buckle and you moan loudly, pleasure kissing every last nerve ending in your body. 

“Come for me,” he says, voice low. “A useless whore like you knows how to do that much at least, right?”

You shiver against the wall, palms pressed flat against it while you try to cling to your sanity as your orgasm creeps up on you. Sylvain’s fingers dig into your clit, cock pounding into you with a pace so brutal it’s nearly painful.

“Come for me, slut,” he repeats, voice harsh enough to cut right through you. You come with a shout of his name, and Sylvain shoves himself as deep inside of you as he can, coming shortly after you do. He presses his hips against your ass as he comes deep inside of you, filling you up with his cum, effectively branding you as nothing but a hole for him to fuck. 

The two of you stand there for a moment, Sylvain’s hands sliding up to wrap you in a hug as you work to catch your breath, knees shaking. He offers you affectionate, praising kisses to your neck, mumbling on about how good you were for him, taking his filthy words like that, and how much he loves you.

“So,” he whispers, panting. “Do I say sorry for everything I said now that we’re done, or is it just some kind of unspoken rule that I didn’t really mean the rude stuff I said about you being useless?”

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Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is exceptionally strong.

You’ve heard stories about him accidentally breaking wooden training spears during sparring sessions. Mercedes told you about how he accidentally bent a pair of scissors with his bare hands while she taught him how to sew. Everybody knows that Dimitri has superhuman strength thanks to his Crest; whether they’ve fought with him or simply watched him try to conduct himself during delicate tasks such as sewing and cooking. 

You’ve been the (willing) victim of his superhuman strength firsthand, however, in contexts other than the aforementioned. 

Dimitri’s hand comes down hard on your ass, causing you to arch your back and whimper. He’s holding back a great amount, you know he is, but that signature Blaiddyd strength still finds ways to leak through his restraint. 

“You’re doing so well, my love,” he praises, the gentle tone in his voice contrasting starkly with the brutality of his hands. Only Dimitri is capable of praising you reverently while he gives you some of the harshest pain you’ve ever felt — you’re sure that the sting in your rear rivals some of the injuries you’ve taken on the battlefield. 

Dimitri delivers another smack to your behind before squeezing it tenderly, making you gasp. It hurts, Gods, it hurts, but you can’t deny how arousing it is to have him use his strength on you. Tears line your lashes as your mouth falls open in pants and whimpers; silent pleas for him to take mercy on you. 

He plays you like an instrument, pulling whines and wails and gasps from your lips with each smack. Your mouth teases calls of “Dimitri, please”, begging him to stop or, at the very least, hold back a little more. 

Much to your dismay (and dark desire), he doesn’t stop. His hand doesn’t let up — hot tears slide down your cheeks as you writhe on his lap. You’re laid bare for him, without even a pair of panties to provide a slight buffer between your ass and his hand. 

“I’m sorry, my beloved,” he offers, though his smacks are anything but apologetic. “I’m holding back as much as I can.”

That Blaiddyd strength is both a blessing and a curse; you’re impossibly turned on but impossibly pained at the same time. You can already hear the you of tomorrow cursing you as she attempts to sit down. 

Dimitri’s other hand keeps yours pinned against your back by your wrist, your smaller hands fitting into his easily. It’s an erotic reminder of just how much you’re at his mercy, submissive and laid bare for him to enjoy. 

Leaving you to whimper weakly as tears spilling down your cheeks in hot streams, Dimitri continues to alternate between slapping and squeezing your ass, delighting in the feeling of your skin beneath his palm. He drinks in the handprints blotted across your ass like paint strewn across a canvas as you continue to shake on his lap. 

Finally, finally, his hand doesn’t come back down once it retreats from your skin, rather, he slides it across your ass to slip it between your legs. You let out a pleasured sigh as he finds your clit and massages it gently, delighting in how wet you are against his hand. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, my love?” he asks, though your body more than answers his question. “Did you like being roughed up a little by me?”

You nod, spreading your legs as best you can in your current position over his lap. You’ve been so aroused for so long you’re just desperate to come already. 

“Let me take care of you,” Dimitri whispers reverently, index finger rubbing calculated circles into your clit, and your rear burns hot with the vestige of his brutal, but impossibly arousing, Blaiddyd strength.

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“So, as I was saying,” Hilda starts, returning to her FaceTime call. You had stopped paying attention about then, too focused on what you’re doing to follow along with her words — because you’re not the one she’s talking to. 

God only knows who she’s talking to; you’re too preoccupied to care. You’re too busy settling yourself comfortably between her parted legs to give any thought as to who’s on the other line — you’re assuming it’s Claude or Marianne; not that it really matters, of course. 

She’s splayed out on her stomach, phone in her hand while she talks on and on about whatever she’s talking about. She's not giving an ounce attention to the way you lay yourself down on your frontside between her legs, working her panties down her thighs; her conversation can't be that interesting, can it?

Hilda doesn’t react when you raise your hands up to grab two hearty handfuls of her ass, only continuing her conversation with whatever friend she’s talking to, expertly ignoring the way you knead the soft flesh of her ass with fervor. The two of you have done this kind of thing before; she loves it and you’re more than happy to indulge her for a while. 

She’s carrying on with the conversation as normal, but you want her to react; you want her to stutter mid-sentence while she drones on and on with her friend, you want her to pull her eyes away from the screen to send you a pout from over your shoulder. That isn’t too cruel of you to wish for, right?

Her composure is unwavering as you press your lips to the small of her back, working your way down to kiss her ass, hands still kneading the skin tenderly. Perhaps teasingly, Hilda arches her hips up into your movements, and you respond with a gentle smack to your ass. You hope the other person on the line heard, though you doubt they’d give it much thought. No matter, the thought of the two of you doing this with a clueless, accidental observer is hot enough. 

Your lips press a line of kisses down her ass before moving to kiss between her legs, your hands grabbing ahold of her thighs. You coax her into lifting her hips up a little more to give your mouth better access to what you’re really searching for, and she obliges with a teasing wiggle of her hips. 

Even when she’s giving more attention to her friend than you, she still manages to drive you absolutely wild — such is the allure of Hilda Valentine Goneril. 

She has her hips arched upwards in a low doggy-style position, phone camera angled expertly to avoid giving whoever’s on the other line a glance over her shoulder at herself, naked from the waist down and posed lewdly for you. 

Giving a slow lick down the lips of her pussy, you adjust your grip on her thighs to better stabilize yourself, lifting yourself up onto your elbows to give you a better position to reach her raised hips at. You smile confidently when Hilda gives an accidental stutter halfway through her sentence. You don’t hear a word she’s saying; you only hear the interruption in the flow of her voice caused by the way you work your tongue on her. Slowly and with deliberation, you lick back up her pussy, being sure to work her teasingly and lazily, a pace befitting her personality. 

Hilda attempts to encourage you to pick up the pace a little with a shake of her hips, as asking you verbally is out of the question, lest she give herself away to whoever she's talking to. Your tongue laps at her to your heart’s content, your movements smooth and steady. You know she wants you to go faster, but it’s hard to ask you while she’s talking to her friend, isn’t it? She resorts to grinding herself against you, hoping you’ll stop with the teasing and do the job properly. 

By now, you’re noticing all of the different disruptions in Hilda’s speech: extended pauses between words, sharp and shallow breaths, and stutters punctuating her words. You’re still not moving quickly whatsoever, so sheer excitement and eagerness are to blame for the inconsistencies in Hilda’s speech. 

“Hey, can I call you back? I have something to take care of real quick,” Hilda breathes out into the phone, attempting to control her breathing as much as possible. 

“Of course,” the voice says before chuckling. You’d recognize that playful laugh anywhere; she’s been talking to Claude all this time. “Have fun with (Y/N), alright? Try not to pull a muscle.” You can practically hear the teasing wink in his tone. He was far from a clueless spectator on the other end of the line. 

Hilda ends the call before tossing her phone to the side, letting out a breathless moan as you begin to pick up the pace, rewarding her for diverting her attention back to you. 

“Aw, and here I was, thinking that we were doing a really good job at being subtle,” she says, offering you a teasing pout from over her shoulder. “That guy is way too perceptive.” 

You pull away from between her legs, laughing, only slightly embarrassed that you were found out. Hilda flips over onto her back, spreading her legs wide and shrugging herself out of her camisole. 

Offering you a wide smile, she invites you back in with a “come here” motion of her index finger. “There’s no reason to tease me anymore, right? Please say you won’t.”

You lay yourself down between her legs and grin up at her before diving back in to eat her out with fervor and abandon, no longer restrained by the need to be subtle. Hilda moans as you work her clit, free to let out all the sounds she wants now that her phone is tossed to the side and all her attention is focused on you.

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Your bed is cold as you try to make yourself comfortable under the sheets, the other half of the mattress painfully empty with the absence of your husband. He’s off doing work somewhere, despite it being some ungodly hour of the late night, because Seteth’s work is never finished as your advisor. Even after you, as archbishop, are finished with your work for the day, Seteth presses on, getting a head start on tomorrow’s tasks. 

As much as you love and appreciate his diligence, you wish he would take more breaks during the days and stop his work in the evenings so he could spend his nights with you — what he isn’t doing with you. Your personal time as husband and wife rather than archbishop and advisor is far and few between these days, it seems. 

You push yourself out of bed and change your outfit into something more appropriate for visiting your husband at his desk. Covering yourself up with a silk dressing gown, you leave your room to go find him, the hallways darker than black with only the occasional oil lamp on the wall to light your way. 

Pushing open the door to his office before shutting it behind you softly, you make your way over to Seteth, who’s hunched over his desk, quill in hand. 

“Seteth, it’s late,” you say softly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. “Come to bed.” 

“Apologies, my beloved,” he replies, setting his quill and papers aside to reach up and lace a hand through one of yours. “I promise I’ll be finished shortly and then I’ll be coming to bed.”

“But I want you in bed now,” you whisper, kissing the side of his face. 

“You sound like a spoiled child, my dear,” he says, chuckling softly. It’s rare to see a softer side of Seteth, but he’s mellowed considerably thanks to marriage, especially since you first met him all those years ago as a professor at Garreg Mach. 

“Is there anything I can do to get you to drop whatever you’re doing and finish it in the morning?” You pull your arms away from his shoulders and work on undoing the ribbon around your waist that keeps your dressing gown closed. It falls to the floor below silently, leaving you in a far-from-modest ensemble of white lace and ribbons. Seteth turns to face you, opening his mouth to say something, but he’s robbed of any speech when he takes in what you’re wearing. His cheeks go red, so red you can see it in the dimly-lit room, blush illuminated by the oil lamps on his desk. 

“Maybe this will,” you say, running your hands down your frontside. He’s struggling to find words: a compliment, a reprimand, anything. 

“This is far from appropriate,” he says after what feels like years of deliberation. “You should cover up, dear.” The way his eyes are darting all over your body betrays the way he scolds you for your clothing. 

“No, I’m alright,” you tease, stepping forward to circle around his chair, sitting on his lap. Your thighs are essentially bare against him, the sheer nylon of your stockings and lace of your garter belt doing little to keep you modest. 

“Dear, I insist, we should be getting to bed now,” Seteth stutters, hands placed awkwardly at his sides. As arousing as you look right now, he’s far too embarrassed to reach out and grab you. This isn’t his first time seeing you in such an ensemble, but it’s been so long since the two of you have gotten intimate, so it feels like it’s the first time again. 

You laugh, leaning forward to press your breasts up against his chest. The two of you are impossibly close now, bodies separated only by what he’s wearing, since your outfit can hardly be considered clothing. “But you were so insistent on getting your work done that you said you didn’t want to come to bed yet. What changed, Seteth?”

He doesn’t have a reply this time, if his stutters and blushing is any indication for that.

“Let’s at least have some alone time before we go to bed,” you offer, taking his wrists in your hands and bringing his hands around to rest on your ass, bare save for the straps of your garter belt that connect to your thigh-high stockings. Seteth settles his palms onto your skin hesitantly — his prudishness hasn’t faded in the years since marrying you; so it’s up to you to prompt him into touching you, kissing you, and making love to you. 

Despite his hesitance, you can feel him hardening beneath his clothes, bulge pressing up against your inner thigh. You lean in close to catch his lips in yours, as he moves one of his hands off of your ass to slide it between your legs. He presses his palm up against the front of your panties, cupping you in his hand.

Pulling away from your lips to look you in the eye, he rubs his hand slowly against your panties, where you’re already starting to get wet. It’s just been so, so long — could anyone blame you? 

Seteth's voice is low as he whispers into your ear; tone smooth and nearly uncharacteristically suggestive. “Let’s take some time to ourselves then.”

Chapter Text

“Please,” your boyfriend, Ashe, asks softly, voice just barely a decibel above a whisper. 

You smile in a pseudo-innocent gesture, and he shivers because he knows your expression is more mocking and teasing than gentle. Especially when he’s under you like this, when he’s completely at your mercy as you ride him however you desire. 

He swallows hard, hands clenched into fists in his restraints — there’s nothing you love more than tying his wrists to the bedpost as you dominate him completely. 

Ashe isn’t hard to dominate; he’s sweet and just shy enough to make a lovely little plaything, voice pitching up high as he moans for you, a deep red blush splattered across his freckled cheeks. 

“Please what, darling?” You prompt, flattening yourself out on his hips, your own hips stilling on his cock as he searches for his voice. You just know that he wants to beg you to move your hips, to bounce up and down along his cock and, with any hope that you’ll be merciful, let him cum, but he’s just too embarrassed to voice it. It’s so adorable it makes you shiver with delight. 

“Please ride me,” Ashe begs softly, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear it. “Please.” He whimpers out that last word even quieter than all of his previous ones, if such a feat is even possible.

“Speak up, my love,” you say with a shake of your head, hips still pressed flat and completely still against him. You’re so warm and so wet and so tight and he’s so worked up you’re sure that, eventually, he would come undone before you even if you don’t move your hips once. He’s shivering with excitement in the absolute cutest way; he's far too embarrassed to request remedy for the desperation so severe it makes him physically ache.

Ashe swallows hard, turning his head to the side so he doesn’t have to look you in the eye. To him, it’s a simple act of shyness and inhibition, but to you, it’s an act of disobedience. 

You bend at the waist to lean down close to him, lips offering a kiss to the shell of his ear. 

“Look at me when I ask you something,” you whisper into his ear, delighting in the way his cock twitches inside of you, your tone sending shivers throughout his body. 

“I will, I will,” he breathes out, trying desperately to push his hips up to shove himself deeper into you. You respond by lifting yourself up onto your knees and sliding yourself completely off of his cock, leaving him high and dry in the most brutal of ways. 

“Bad boy, you know not to do that without permission,” you scold. Ashe sucks the air in through his teeth as he tries to hold onto his wits, desperation causing his hands to ball into fists in his restraints.

He pants out an apology again, turning his head to face you once more. He makes eye contact with you properly because he knows that’s what he should do when you ask him a question or prod him for an apology; eyes glazed over and threatening to spill tears. He’s just so, so very desperate for you to make him feel good. 

Ashe looks down past his chest between both of your bodies, eyes fixed on your hips and parted legs, the head of his cock just barely brushing against your pussy. Instinct tells him to push up and shove himself back inside of you, but better judgement tells him that if he doesn’t stay still, you likely won’t let him come at all — so, he keeps himself completely still because he knows how to behave for you. 

“I’m sorry,” he pants again with a whimper of your name, biting into his lip. He can feel the heat and wetness from your pussy on the head of his cock, and it’s taking every last inch of his willpower to keep his hips down flat against the bed beneath him. “Please, I’m sorry.” 

His chest heaves with shallow breaths, and you know he’s doing everything in his power to keep his breathing steady as a way of trying to stay sane. God, isn’t he just the cutest?

“Good boy,” you praise, cupping one of his cheeks in your hands, your other hand keeping yourself steady above him with a palm against the bed. “What do you want, Ashe?”

Swallowing hard once more, he looks into your eyes intently. “I want you to ride me, please.”

You indulge his polite request, sliding yourself back onto him and pushing him as deep inside of you as you can. Ashe lets out a sharp moan, breath leaving his lungs in a huff of relief. 

Bouncing your hips up and down on him quickly, you press your hands onto his chest to steady yourself as you slap your hips against his. Ashe lets out a string of moans and gasps with the occasional “more, please” leaving his lips between cries. 

“Please let me come,” he begs, hips leaving the bed to thrust up into you every time your hips come back down onto his. You know he’s close, you can see it in his expression and hear it in his voice, can feel it in his sloppy thrusts. 

“You’ve been so good for me, Ashe,” you reply, panting as you ride him as fast as you can. “Come for me, okay?”

Arching his hips upwards to shove himself into you, he comes undone, a breathless call of your name spilling from his mouth. His cum shoots out into you, and you shiver at the feeling, biting your bottom lip and smiling. He breathes out a breathless “thank you”, because he knows to mind his manners, especially when you’ve been gracious enough to let him come. 

Ashe lets out a soft moan as you continue to bounce your hips on him even after he’s come down from his orgasmic high, and he knows that he’s in for a long, long night at your mercy.

Chapter Text

As a renowned songstress, Dorothea is famed and heralded for her voice. Many from every reach of Fódlan have flocked to theaters to watch her performances, hand-deliver cards and letters professing their love and adoration for her, throw flowers up to the stage she graces, and beg for an autograph — an effort that’s always done in vain, as she typically refuses to meet fans personally. Safety reasons and all that; plus, she’s not looking to date anyone, especially not a random fan, as she already has a sweet little girlfriend waiting for her return. 

As much as you love Dorothea’s voice when she’s singing, her voice sounds best to you when it’s praising you softly and reverently, as selfish as that sounds. You have a personal affinity towards her praise, her voice soft and low as she whispers sweet approbations into your ear. Not that you dislike her singing, of course, but while anyone can come to hear her sing, only you can hear these kinds of praises leave her lips. 

“You’re doing so well, my sweet,” Dorothea whispers, your bare back pressed up against her soft chest. You’re nestled comfortably on top of her lap, legs spread wide for her as she pushes her strap-on inside of you slowly after sufficiently lubing it with a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand. 

You whimper as she slides the strap further and further into you, back arching against her as the dildo fills you with ease. Dorothea tends to spend what feels like (and what sometimes is) hours on foreplay with you, so it’s no surprise you’re soaked around her strap after all the time she spent preparing you for it with her hands and her mouth.

“You take it so well, darling,” she praises, lacing one of her hands through yours to keep you steady. “Does it feel good?”

Nodding in response as you flatten your hips out on the base of the toy, the entire strap sheathed inside of you, you reach your free hand behind you and thread your fingers through her hair. Dorothea responds by capturing your lips with hers, kissing you sweetly as she begins to thrust her hips up into you. She smiles approvingly as you continue to moan against her mouth, body squeezing up around her strap, the entire toy filling up every inch of you. 

“You’re so cute,” she giggles, hand leaving yours so she can wrap both arms around you in a hug. Dorothea keeps you hugged close to her body, peppering kisses across your cheeks as you moan and pant for her. 

Her hips thrust up quicker into you, your body bouncing on her toy eagerly. It’s big, so big, and it hits parts deep inside of you that make you whimper and tighten your grip on her hair. 

“Harder,” you beg breathlessly, hips stuttering as you continue to bounce up and down, but you can only move your hips so fast to get the pleasure you seek without her meeting you halfway. 

As much as she loves watching you desperately bounce yourself up and down on her strap, she obliges, hips snapping up to meet you with each push of your hips you give downwards towards her. Dorothea slams into you harder and harder, movements damn near becoming rough as she continues to fuck you. The brutality of her thrusts juxtaposes nicely with the tenderness of her kisses to your cheek and the sweetness of her words. 

One of her hands traces down your stomach to slip between your legs, toying with your clit as the two of you bounce your hips towards one another. Her skilled fingers trace circles around your sensitive clit, smiling sweetly at the lovely little strong of moans that fall from your lips. She may be the one famous for her voice, but she far prefers the sound of your voice to the sound of her own. 

“I love your voice,” Dorothea praises into your ear, voice low in a whisper. “It’s strange how I’m the one making a career out of my voice when yours is so much more beautiful.”

You whine in protest, embarrassed, but it’s hard to form coherent words between the feeling of her strap deep inside of you paired with her delicate fingers pressed firmly against your clit in small, tight circles. 

“Getting close?” she teases, but she knows your reactions well enough to know that you’re getting close without having to ask you. Your hips grow increasingly clumsier on the strap inside of you, and your cries are growing more and more frequent. “You’re doing so well. I love you, you’re so wonderful.” 

Dorothea offers you another kiss as she continues to thrust up into you, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Let me hear your pretty voice while you come for me, okay?”

Chapter Text

The soft fabric of Hubert’s gloves against your hips is anything but comforting, grounding, and reassuring, as the intensity of his grip offsets the smooth feeling of cloth against your bare skin. Your skin prickles with goosebumps beneath his clothed palm as he leans in close with a dark chuckle, eliciting a fearful whimper from your lips. 

“You’d best not disappoint Lady Edelgard,” he whispers, low in your ear.   “I would just hate to think about what could happen to you if you fail to do your job properly.” 

His tone has you shivering, and you’re not sure whether to pay more attention to Hubert’s threat or Edelgard’s bare body presented for you on her bed. You wouldn’t have ever thought you’d get to see her laid completely bare, and it’s even harder to believe this is really happening now that she’s Emperor.

“Hubert, there’s no need to scare her,” Edelgard scolds, and Hubert simply pushes you towards her, reminding you of what you were called here to do. You nearly trip over yourself at the sudden shove, making your way onto the bed where Edelgard lies with shaking legs. Hubert seems unaffected by either of your naked forms, which doesn’t really come as a surprise — you’re not even sure he's even capable of feeling emotions aside from bitterness and irritation. 

“There’s no need to be nervous,” she whispers, and you’re trying to collect and compose yourself, but the feeling of her bare body against yours is making that exceptionally difficult. 

Edelgard laces her fingers through yours reassuringly — it’s rare to see a softer side of her, as she typically presents herself to be much more collected and standoffish with most, but it’s extremely welcoming, calming, and even cute. 

Tentatively and lacking confidence, you settle yourself down, pressing your body up against hers. Hubert simply watches your anxious movements, arms crossed over his chest. Is he really only here to make sure that you do a good job of pleasing Edelgard?

You do your best to ignore his brooding presence as you lean in to kiss Edelgard, who happily returns your kiss. Her movements are so much more sure of herself than yours are, but to your credit, it’s easy to be nervous when you’re kissing the Edelgard, the Emperor of Adrestia and unifier of all of Fódlan. 

One of your hands slides out from hers to cup one of her breasts, and her skin is soft beneath your fingertips. You give it a hesitant squeeze, testing the waters, as you’d hate to push her a little too far. Who knows what Hubert would do to you were you to cross a boundary of Edelgard's. 

She hums approvingly, however, and you wonder if her attendant is pleased with your performance so far, as his liege certainly seems to be enjoying herself thus far. You continue to kiss Edelgard, legs intertwined with hers, and all of your uncertainty about your actions melts away as you just enjoy being with her and having her naked and wanting before you. 

You pull away from her lips and mouth slowly down her neck, leaving a hot trail of kisses in your wake. You stop to kiss all over her breasts, a gesture that has her sighing with equal parts approval and pleasure. You mouth teasingly at her nipples, pressing open-mouth kisses to her sensitive skin. She moans your name softly, threading a hand through your hair, prompting you to look up at her. 

“Sensitive?” you ask, sliding your tongue over one of her nipples. She only sighs and arches her back, effectively pushing her chest into your mouth. You release her nipple from your mouth to continue southward, kissing down her stomach slowly. 

“How is she doing, Lady Edelgard?” Hubert asks from behind the two of you. You had nearly forgotten about his presence; too immersed in kissing all over Edelgard’s skin to give him much thought. “I hope our girl is meeting your demands.”

“She’s doing wonderfully,” Edelgard answers, and the praise makes you smile shyly. You settle yourself down between her legs after she parts them for you, placing your hands on her thighs to keep them apart as you lean in. 

You can feel Hubert’s gloved hand on your shoulder, making you jump from surprise and turn to look at him quizzically. 

“Remember the task at hand here,” he says. “Pleasing Lady Edelgard is of utmost importance to you. Please take care not to disappoint her.” 

Swallowing hard, you nod, turning your attention back to her after Hubert steps away. He watches with cold intent at the way you lean in to slide your tongue up the lips of her pussy, unbothered by the pornographic scene before him. 

You slowly begin to eat Edelgard out, and she instinctively tries to squeeze her thighs against the side of your head, but your hands on her legs won’t allow her to. You pick up the pace, lapping at her with passion and fervor, pleasing her both because you want to and because you have to, lest you risk inciting Hubert’s wrath. 

Teasing Edelgard’s clit with the tip of your tongue, pulling lovely little moans from her lips, working her towards orgasm. It’s a little exciting, reducing Edelgard, who’s always in control of everything, to a shaking, moaning mess, her thighs shivering against the sides of your face. She’s at the control of her own involuntary reactions, legs twitching and toes curling as you work her with your mouth. 

Before long, she comes for you, rolling her hips smoothly against your mouth as she gasps. You fuck her right through it with your tongue, sliding it over her clit as she rides her high. Hubert watches from afar as she comes, and the sight is enough to prove that you’re more than done your job. 

As Edelgard works at catching her breath above you, legs still shivering, Hubert approaches you once more, threading a hand through your hair and pulling you back so you can look at him. Your lips are glossy with his liege’s juices, cheeks flushed from arousal. 

“You did well,” he says simply, but his words aren’t praising; they’re a mere observation. “Perhaps you deserve a bit of a reward for your efforts?”

It only takes a second to get you up onto the bed and pressed between the two of them, and, needless to say, you’ve never had a reward as wonderful as this one. 

Chapter Text

If there’s anything to know about Claude, it’s that he’s an expert at flustering those around him. 

Enemies, allies, friends, you (especially you), anyone — it doesn’t matter who; he has a gift for playing mind games all the less. Whether it’s riling up the enemy or making you come undone before him, he’s a natural at what he does. He’s proving his knack for the latter right now while he keeps you confined to his lap, cock pressed deep inside you. 

“You look really cute like this,” Claude teases with a hum of your name, hands coming to rest on your hips after a brief interlude of toying with your breasts. You merely whine in response, robbed of your words after what feels like an eternity of enduring his teasing remarks. “You look good like this. Makes it hard to imagine going back to normal once we’re done.” 

Claude’s fingernails squeeze into the skin of your hips as he continues to fuck you, bouncing you up and down along his cock with practiced ease. He knows exactly what he’s doing — he knows exactly how to unravel you with smooth movements of his hands and hips. There’s no careless fumbling or clumsy motions, just expertly calculated and obnoxiously teasing actions that make you moan and whimper as he indulges in your body to his heart’s content. 

Thrusting into you with deep thrusts that are perfectly timed to the rolling of your hips, Claude slides his hands down your hips to cup your ass, nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. 

“You like that?” he asks playfully, words coming out as a soft mumble against your skin. You know he’s smirking, you can feel it against your skin, grinning with pride at how much you love having him inside of you like this. 

Whimpering out an oh, Gods, yes, your body shivers in his grip, hands wrapping around his shoulders to try and stabilize yourself against the relentless movements of his hips. There’s passion in his precision; the way each thrust slams into that same sensitive spot inside of you each time drives you wild with pleasure. 

Carefully removing your arms from around his shoulders before replacing his hands back on your hips, Claude slides himself out of you, prompting you to let out a defeated whine. You’re left with an impossibly empty feeling between your legs, and you whimper with frustration as you try and wiggle your hips back down onto him. 

“Time for a change in position, wouldn’t you agree?” Claude says with a wink, and you pout at him because all you want is to have him back inside of you — you don’t have time to put up with any more of his teasing. “Don’t want you getting bored just yet.” His chuckle makes you groan with frustration. 

He flips you over onto your stomach, raising your hips with his hands so they’re positioned just before his cock. Naturally, you’re expecting him to thrust back inside of you, but for some reason, he just kneels behind you, looking down at your nude form. His eyes trace over your arched back and your raised hips as you try to beg him to just fuck you already. 

“Just admiring the view is all,” he explains, offering you a smug smile. 

“Put it in, Claude,” you beg, pushing yourself back against his cock as best you can despite his grip on your hips. “Fuck me already.”

He doesn’t move; he's pretending to ignore you, but he knows exactly what you want. He knows it even before you yourself know it. He knows it without you having to verbalize it. 

You’re doing everything you can to get him back inside of you, begging him with your words, pushing your legs further apart, wiggling your ass under his hands; anything that you think would coax him into fucking you already. Your pussy aches with emptiness, you’d take anything, anything he could possibly give you, filling you until you can’t think of anything else. 

“Please,” you whine, body slumped down against the bed, save for your raised hips. You reach back with one hand to part your pussy lips for him, providing him with a view that’s sure to tempt him into shoving himself back inside of you. 

Claude only chuckles, one hand snaking between your legs, deftly pushing your hand out of the way so he can slide his fingers over your clit. You moan, the action providing you with an immense sense of relief. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Claude teases, aligning the head of his cock with your pussy before thrusting inside in one fluid motion. You take him easily considering how wet and how needy you are for him. Moaning as he begins to thrust in and out of you again with deep, calculated movements, you tangle your fingers in the sheets, trying to cling to any ounce of your sanity you can. 

Claude leans over you to whisper more teasing remarks into your ear, telling you of his intent to fuck you and play with you all night long, because flustering you is simply what he does best. 

Chapter Text

There’s a certain darkness in Sylvain’s eyes as he hovers over you, your bare back pressed firmly against the bed beneath you. He’s panting, cheeks flushed and hair damp with sweat, aroused beyond belief. 

“Girls are always throwing themselves at me, trying to have my Crest babies,” he mutters, smirking at you. “You’re no different, right?” 

Before you can protest, saying no, that’s not it at all, because that’s truly not it at all, Sylvain leans in to roughly claim your lips with his. 

“Everyone always says ‘no Sylvain, that’s not it,’ to me,” he mumbles against your mouth, hands roughly grabbing at your breasts. “I know a lie when I hear it, though.”

Sylvain leans back in to kiss you, and you’re moaning against his mouth as he pushes his tongue past your lips, thumbs rubbing hard circles into your nipples. 

He kisses you deep; it’s rough and frantic but devoid of passion. Sylvain kisses you to feel something — whatever it is, it’s probably not love, if his bitter words are any indication of that. You and him both know that you're just some temporary hookup, but this time, Sylvain plans on finally knocking someone up in hopes of continuing the Gautier crestline like he knows he's been meant to all his life.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, but his comment doesn’t feel like praise. “Your body is perfect. Perfect for me to knock up, right? Perfect for me to put my babies in?”

You shiver under him, whimpering when he pinches your nipples between his fingers. You pant out as he tweaks them between his fingers roughly, arching your chest up into his hands in pursuit of more stimulation. 

“So sensitive,” Sylvain remarks, grinning devilishly. “I picked out a good one this time, didn’t I? You’re so cute; I’m gonna have so much fun filling you right up with my cum.”

You whine out his name and arch your chest into his hands, and Sylvain responds to this action by giving your breasts a tender squeeze. He pushes his hips forward to grind his cock through the lips of your pussy, groaning at the wetness that coats his skin. 

“You’re wet already?” he chides, but it’s more condescending than playful. His eyes are dark as he looks down on you, both figuratively and literally, his lips pulled into a sneer. It’s the complete opposite of the usual Sylvain you see: smiling, romantic, and passionate, and you wonder what changed. 

Sylvain slides himself into you in one rough thrust, smirking when you let out a pleasured whine. You're moaning and all he's done is shove his cock inside of you — you're a true slut, only concerned with feeling good. You don't care that he doesn't love you, you don't care that he isn't your boyfriend or your husband, you just want him to fuck you and fill you with his cum until you're pregnant with his baby. 

“You like this,” he whispers, biting into your neck. “You like being reduced to my breeding slut. Nothing but a toy for me to fuck and breed, isn’t that right?”

You moan sharply as he continues to slam his hips against yours, thrusts totally lacking in any precision and technique; it's just raw passion in pursuit of release. Even though it’s loveless, completely loveless, it feels so, so good having him inside of you like this, pounding you like you mean absolutely nothing to him aside from being the soon-to-be mother of his, as he calls them, Crest babies. 

“You take my cock so well,” he praises, punctuating his words with a deep thrust into you. “You were made for this. You were made to get bred by me, right?”

You nod mindlessly, and Sylvain’s hands leave your chest to push your legs back against the bed, effectively bending you in half. He hammers into you like that, hands squeezing your thighs tenderly, smirking like the devil himself as he fucks you with a loveless fervor. 

“Such cute tits,” Sylvain mutters, eyes trained on the way they bounce with each thrust. “So perfect. Your body’s amazing. Perfect for having my babies.” 

He praises you in a way that makes you shiver rather than blush, as his words are anything but romantic. Despite that, you love it, you love how he talks to you like this. It’s dark and filthy and horrible but it arouses you in ways you didn’t know possible. 

Sylvain’s hips continue to thrust against yours, skin slapping against skin lewdly. He’s close — he can feel it in his stomach — to just bursting inside of you, filling you with his cum in an effort to knock you up with his children.

“Feels so good,” he groans under his breath, your pussy hot and tight around him. “You’re perfect. You feel so good for me, babe. Tell me how much you love my cock.”

“I love it, Sylvain, I love it,” you moan, toes curling as he continues to pound into you with abandon. No regard for pleasure or enjoyment, just an animalistic pursuit towards impregnation; he’s rutting into you like a mere animal, not making love to you like a man. 

Sylvain shoves his hips forward, thrusting into you so deep you fear for a moment that you’ll break, but the thought is pushed from your mind by the pleasure that clouds your mind more and more with each thrust. 

With one final, deep motion, Sylvain comes inside of you, pumping his cum into you with a firm grip on your thighs. You couldn’t shake away from him even if you wanted to; you’re too immersed in the feeling of his cum filling you to think about anything else. 

You don’t have much time to relish in the feeling of being so utterly used by him, however, because once he finishes pumping you full, he slides out of you and flips you onto your stomach. Raising your hips up off the bed to meet his, he thrusts back into you, hands settling on the curve of your ass as he ruts you desperately. 

“If I’m gonna knock you up, I better do it properly, right?” he says, fucking into you with raw, animalistic fervor. “Gotta fill you up with my cum until it drips down those pretty thighs.” Sylvain thrusts into you in pursuit of orgasm again to pump even more of his cum inside of you, because he knows you'll take every last drop eagerly and obediently as his useless breeding whore. 

Chapter Text

You’re still reeling from your orgasm as Dedue slowly slides his hips back, pulling out of you carefully. You collapse to the bed below you, legs shaking and chest heaving with pants as you try to catch your breath, mind spinning. 

He leaves the room momentarily to retrieve a wet hand towel as you work on catching your breath, entire body shivering with that lovely post-orgasm glow. Dedue returns just a moment later with the cloth, and he kneels between your legs to clean you up. You’re incredibly thankful, as you’re not sure your shaking legs would allow you to get up, let alone carry you anywhere so you can wipe yourself off. Dedue is very good at leaving you in a crumpled heap of shivering pleasure like this. 

“I love you,” you pant, speech slightly slurred, as he takes care to wipe the towel between your legs, wiping away the remnants of your juices mixed with his release. You’re nearly out of your mind, delirious as you try to collect yourself and get your limbs to cooperate with your mind. You’re grateful that Dedue is there to part your legs for you as he cleans you off, as you can barely move them on your own. 

“I love you too,” he responds. He says it simply, but it’s only because he isn’t a very expressive person by nature — you know that he means it regardless of how and when he says it. 

Once you’re sufficiently clean, Dedue sets the cloth aside before joining you up on the bed to do his next post-coitus task. He gently coaxes you to turn back onto your stomach so he can massage your back, and you happily oblige. 

“You’re so good to me,” you mumble against the bed as he presses his hands into your back, little content moans leaving your lips with each motion of his large hands. He is so good to you; he always takes care to bring you water, clean you up, massage you all over once, and more you’re sufficiently spent and satisfied.

“It doesn’t deserve praise,” he replies. “I just wish to take care of you.” 

“It deserves so much praise,” you correct, sighing as he presses the heels of his hands into your back, taking care to work all the tension from your time spent bent over as he pleases you.

“Come cuddle me already,” you say, and Dedue retracts his hands from your back to heed your request. The two of you slip under the covers, with him sliding himself behind you, spooning you from behind. His presence is immensely comforting, large form shielding your smaller one with his whole body. 

Dedue’s strong hands are gentle as they rub circles into your shoulders, continuing to massage you with care. your body flush against his. His hands feel like heaven as he works the knots out of your neck and shoulders. 

“Does it hurt anywhere?” he asks simply, quietly. You shake your head and relax back into his tough, sighing contently at his ministrations. 

He’s quiet for a moment, rubbing his thumbs into your shoulders. “Are you sure?”

You giggle — he almost sounds like your parent sometimes with how much he dotes on you and worries about you. 

“I’m fine, promise,” you reply, arching your back against him as he presses his hands into your shoulder blades, massaging you gently.

Dedue doesn’t respond or ask again, opting instead for simple silence as he uses his hands to soothe you. You’re starting to grow drowsier with each passing second, and trying to keep your eyes open becomes a task of great physical labor. Between the exhaustion that always comes from sex followed by his hands that expertly worked out all the stress in your body to soothe you, it comes as no surprise that you’re beyond tired. 

“So tired,” you groan, and Dedue smiles softly because you’re just too cute right now. 

“Let’s go to sleep, then,” he offers, holding you close to him, an action you’ve expressed you enjoy while you two sleep. 

You mumble that you love him one more time as you drift off to sleep, beyond satisfied by all of Dedue’s care over the past few hours. 

Chapter Text

The last thing you expected Mercedes to be in bed was dominant. 

She’s always so sweet and reserved in daily life, so it’s hard to imagine that she prefers to dominate you rather than take the submissive role. 

Of course, her gentleness extends to the bedroom as well, dominating you completely but softly all at once in a way that has your head spinning with equal parts arousal and equal parts utter adoration for her. 

Mercedes is seated between your thighs, your legs dangled over her shoulders. She presses loving kisses all up and down your thighs, her usual gentle smile tracing her features. 

“You’re so soft and cute,” she muses, and it almost sounds like she’s praising a kitten rather than you with how she says it. Mercedes punctuates her kisses to your leg with little verbalized “muah” sounds, and you giggle at that.

She kisses further down your thigh until she’s kissing along the hem of your underwear. You slide your legs off her shoulders and lay them flat against the bed, trying to prompt her into pulling your underwear off. She obliges, pulling them down your hips with you assisting her by lifting yourself off the bed.

Mercedes props herself up onto her knees so she can bend over to catch your lips with hers, kissing you gently as she slides her hand back up your leg to cup your pussy in her hand. The action makes you sigh and roll your hips once against her wrist, a reaction that makes her smile, delighted by the way your body always reacts to her so well.

“Please,” you whisper against her lips, and it comes out more as a simple request than a beg. Though she’s certainly no stranger to making you beg before she gives it to you. When Mercedes slides her fingers down to delicately trace a circle around your clit, you’re relieved to discover that she doesn’t seem to plan on making you beg this time.

You sigh and Mercedes opts to kiss along your cheeks slowly and deliberately, mouthing along your jawline. Her index finger rubs slowly into your clit, eliciting soft moans from your mouth. Her dexterous fingers work you with precise motions. She’s good with her hands — you suppose that with all the time she spends using them when she sews or cooks with Annette, it’s only natural for her to be so skilled with them. 

Your legs involuntarily shove themselves open when Mercedes slips a finger inside of you slowly, your body wordlessly begging her to fuck you on her hand. Not that Mercedes would ever use the word “fuck” to describe what she wants to do to you, though. 

“Does it feel good?” she asks, voice soft and bordering on reverent. It feels good — it feels so good; it should be criminal how skilled her gentle fingers are. She doesn’t need to apply much pressure or force to get you off; she simply relies on calculated movements that make you melt beneath her. 

You nod your head, a moan leaving your lips when you part them to try and tell her how amazing it feels. She giggles.

“You have to tell me it feels good, silly,” Mercedes teases, kissing your nose. “Otherwise I just won’t know if you don't use your words for me.” Such is the trademark of Mercedes in the bedroom: gentle and playful teasing. 

Your head rolls back against the mattress beneath you when she presses her thumb just a little harder into your clit, her index finger slipping in and out of your pussy ever so slowly. 

“Sweetheart,” Mercedes prods as you continue to lie there in silence, save for your pants and moans. She wants to hear it from your lips; she wants you to tell her that you feel good and all because of her delicate fingers. Pulling her hand completely away as means of encouraging you into speaking, Mercedes smiles down at you. 

It seems to have worked, because you whine out a “wait, no” nearly instantly after she moves her fingers away from where you need it most. 

“It feels good, Mercedes,” you breathe out, finally answering her previous question. 

“That’s it!” Mercedes sings in a light, praising tone and, as if to reward you, she slips two fingers back inside of you and presses the pad of her thumb back into your clit. “You're my good girl, you're so good!" 

You’re left to the whims of her mercy as she moves her fingers quicker against you, delighting in the way you move beneath her, submitting yourself to her gentle domination completely.

Chapter Text

When Dimitri had said that “if you stood in his way, he would cut you down”, he wasn’t joking.

Not that you ever doubted him to begin with, as the tone in his voice as he said it was far from playful, but he’s made it immensely apparent that he wasn’t just messing with you when he had first said it, if the hand that’s currently wrapped around your throat is any indication of that. Sure, he’s not actually cutting into you with his lance, but he’s still exercising his power over you for attempting to, in his mind, stand in his way. 

It’s dark in the cathedral, night flooding through the entire structure. You and Dimitri are the only ones around, as Dedue has already retired to bed at Dimitri’s command. It’s dark, the building illuminated only by a bit of moonlight, but it’s still far brighter than the look in Dimitri’s eye. 

He glares down at you, eyebrow furrowed, lips pulled into a sharp frown. He has you pinned to the cold floor beneath you by your neck, gloved hand squeezing slightly around your windpipe. 

“I thought I made myself clear when I told you to stay out of my way,” he spits, voice devoid of absolutely any concern for your current situation. You had only approached him to talk about your concern for him, stating that you were worried that his desire for revenge was ruining him and that you and the rest of the Blue Lions missed him. He had listened to you ramble on and on about how much you supposedly care about him and worry for him before he shut you up, leading you to your current position beneath him on the floor. “I care not for your lies of how you and the others care for me. A beast like myself is not cared for or loved.”

“I love you,” you whimper beneath him, a vain attempt at getting him to snap out of it and realize what he’s doing to you, his beloved from back during his monastery days. You’re trying to appeal to his humanity, which you still believe exists in him, even if he himself had rejected it long ago.

“Silence!” he roars, squeezing his hand around your neck tighter. Not tight enough to completely cut off your breathing, but enough to send fear coursing through your body like an ice-cold river. “You do not love me. Humans don’t care for beasts. You don’t love me, you pity me.”

You want to tell him that that’s not true, but it’s a little difficult to squeak words out with the way your neck is seized beneath his hand. Besides, it’s not like he’d believe you. 

“If you truly love a beast like me, prove it,” Dimitri says impatiently. “Your words alone mean nothing to me.” He releases your neck from his grip, prompting you to gasp and wheeze as you try to get the oxygen flowing throughout your body again.

You want to tell him you love him, but you opt to stay silent, because as he said, your words alone mean nothing to him. He pulls away from above you, kneeling and looking down on you, waiting for you to act. Shakily, you rise to your knees to meet him. 

Neither of you say a word as you lean in, pressing your lips to his to show him that you truly do love him. Dimitri doesn’t kiss back, and his lips are cold under yours. You pull away, and he laughs, but the noise isn’t warm and light; it’s almost sarcastic. 

“Humans do not crave to kiss beasts,” he says. “Perhaps you’re more of a beast than I am if you’ve somehow fallen in love with one.”

You say nothing. You gasp when he shoves you back down to the floor onto your stomach, ass up in the air for him. 

“Dimitri,” you whimper, wanting to beg him either to stop or beg for him to keep going, you’re not totally sure which.

He doesn’t give you the time to decide on which. 

Dimitri roughly pushes his hand between your legs, rubbing you over your tights abrasively. You’re left to whimper and moan beneath him, strong hand pressing against your clothed pussy. You’re rolling your hips down against his hand eagerly, silently begging him to keep on touching you. Even if it’s completely loveless, it feels so very good and you can’t even think about fighting him. Not that you’d be able to if you wanted to, anyway.

His other hand presses back down on your neck, keeping your face pressed against the cold stone floor below. You’re struggling for breath, tears filling your eyes as Dimitri continues to play with you as a cat plays with a mouse — sadistically and as nothing but a way to assert himself as above you. 

“You’re enjoying this,” he growls, laughing with a dark awe. “It takes a special kind of beast to enjoy the loveless nature of another beast’s hedonistic actions.”

You whine beneath him as his hand tightens around your neck, keeping you glued down to the floor in your embarrassing position under his broad, looming form. You do the best you can to fill your lungs with air, but the process is growing more and more difficult with each passing second as Dimitri continues to keep his fingers wrapped around your throat. 

Dimitri removes his hand from between your legs, and you shiver when you hear the sound of his armor clanking against the ground, both excited for and scared of what’s coming next. He rips your tights open, an easy feat given his superhuman strength, and as he starts to thrust roughly inside of you, you think that maybe being a beast comparable to him isn’t all that bad. 

Chapter Text

Caspar is just full of energy and vigor. 

It’s a trait that finds itself at the topic of much discussion amongst the Black Eagles; whether it’s to the annoyance of Hubert, the subject of a good scolding from Edelgard, or the topic of sarcastic, trite remarks from Linhardt, everyone knows that Caspar is just full of life by nature.

You’re especially aware of his high energy and stamina, experiencing it in a way nobody else does.

Caspar’s arms are tight around your waist as he hammers his cock into you, panting noisily against your back. He’s bent over your body as you try to steady yourself against the bed, face pressed down against the sheets beneath you. He fucks into you behind with all the vigor and energy possible; which, for him, is a pretty damn good amount. 

“You feel so good,” he moans between gasps, hips smacking against your ass so hard you wonder if you’ll be bruised by morning. His body is nearly flat up against yours with how tight he’s hugging you, resting his cheek on your shoulder blades. He hugs you close as if he’s trying to melt into you as he fucks you, groaning at how tight you’re squeezing up around him.

The two of you have been going at it for hours and Caspar’s energy hasn’t wavered once. Maybe your first mistake was expecting him to tire out after a few rounds; if he’s able to train for hours on end without needing so much as a five minute break, what’s there to say that he wouldn’t approach sex with the same unrealistically high amount of stamina? It’s a lesson you’re learning firsthand as he continues to fuck you with unwavering energy — his hips haven’t slowed down for even a second since the two of you began, leaving you to whimper with overstimulation beneath him. 

You try to muster up a moan of his name, but it comes out jumbled and mindless. Your body’s beyond sensitive; senses overwhelmed with everything he’s giving you. There’s a dull ache between your legs as Caspar pounds into you over and over, tightening his grip around your waist to steady himself.

“You feel so, so good,” Caspar repeats with a deep groan of your name. He starts to ramble, his mind just as delirious as yours from all the pleasure. He’s rambling about how tight you are and how wet you are and how it just feels so good and that his hips just won’t stop — his breath is hot against your back as he goes on and on about how wonderful your body feels. 

You let out a sharp cry as he continues to shove himself deep inside of you with each thrust. His movements are so fast and frantic your body can barely register the feeling of him sliding out of you to leave you empty before he’s already back inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cock. He fills you completely with each thrust, making your mind spin from how deep he presses himself into you. 

Your arms flail out to the side, fingers tangling in the sheets as you try to cling to any ounce of your sanity you still have left — but even that tiny slice of sanity is narrowing with each harsh thrust Caspar gives you.

He slides out of you, and just as you start to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s done, he flips you over onto your back, pulling your hips up into his lap before pushing his cock back into you. You’re thankful for the position change, at the very least, as this takes far less effort than supporting your weight on your knees. 

Your back arches up off the bed and you let out a moan so whiny it’s almost pitiful, head rolling back against the sheets. Caspar’s fingernails dig into your hips, letting out a string of groans as he pounds into you. 

In what has to be at least the fifth time tonight, you’re close to coming again, body writhing in his grip as you try to control your limbs as they shiver, legs shaking as they come to wrap around Caspar’s back. You figure he’s close as well, if the way his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier is any indication of that. 

He pumps into you fervently, and you whimper desperately as you roll your hips back against his involuntarily. Caspar comes with a noisy shout of your name, his cock pressed as deep inside of you as possible. Much to your surprise, he continues to thrust even while he’s filling you up with his cum, hips refusing to still for even a second. 

Caspar’s movements slow down just slightly once he’s finishing emptying himself inside of you, continuing to fuck into you vigorously. You’re reduced to a melted pile of pleasure as your orgasm crashes into you like a wave, hips rolling in his lap as you, perhaps against your better judgement, try to push his cock further into you as you come. 

Your nerves are overstimulated all the way to the moon and back as Caspar continues to slam into your pussy with all the same speed and vigor as before. 

If your first mistake was expecting him to tire out after a few rounds, then maybe your second mistake was expecting him to need a break after coming.

Chapter Text

It’s easy to be flustered in the presence of Dorothea with how naturally flirty she is, always peppering you with loving compliments and teasing winks. She’s a natural at getting people to fall for her, whether she’s trying to or not, and you’re living proof of the effects her flirting has on other people. 

It’s even easier to be flustered in her presence when she’s stripped bare before your very eyes and seated directly on your lap. 

“What’s the matter?” She asks, taking note of your blushing cheeks and helpless stammering. “See something you like?” 

You do, of course you do, but you’re at such a loss for words you couldn’t even begin to articulate everything you like. She’s grinding her hips slowly against your naked thighs as she wraps her arms loosely around your shoulders, leaning in to kiss along your cheek.

“You’re so cute,” she whispers in your ear while you’re trying (and failing) to maintain your composure as she grinds against you languidly. Hesitantly and unconfidently, but desperately, your hands reach out for her hips, but she stops you in your tracks by grabbing your wrists with her hands. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” she scolds, and her tone is teasingly sing-song. “No touching.” She enjoys teasing you like this maybe just a little too much. As if to punish you for trying to get handsy, she slides herself off of your lap and onto the bed just a little ways away from the chair you’re seated on. 

You watch helplessly as Dorothea sits herself on the edge of the bed and spreads her legs before you, and there’s absolutely nothing you want to do more than bury your face between her thighs, but you know that you’re not allowed to be touching her right now. So, you wait, patiently and obediently for her to give you the permission you need to do anything; to touch yourself, to touch her, anything.

Your mouth opens in a dumbfounded gasp as Dorothea runs her hand down her stomach before sliding her fingers through the lips of her pussy, and all you can do as she starts to touch herself is stare. She says nothing; only watching the way your face goes flush as you stare at her hand with wide eyes, eyebrows arched up in shy surprise. Your hands are obedient; they’re pressed flat against your thighs rather than wandering anywhere else to tease a spot of you that may bring you pleasure. 

Dorothea traces her fingers over her pussy, circling her entrance as your eyes remained glued on her hand. She’s loving this — she has you completely under her control without even having to touch you. You’re so good for her, sitting up straight in your chair with your hands still. 

“You’re so well behaved. Touch yourself with me?” she offers, and refusing is the absolute last thing on your mind as you immediately part your thighs and slip a hand between them. You spread your legs wide so she can see you with your fingers sliding into your pussy, and she matches your movements by pressing her fingers inside of herself right there with you. 

Your other hand slides over to play with your clit as you thrust your fingers into yourself, moaning softly for Dorothea as she plays with herself. The two of you are moaning for each other, and though your hands aren’t on one another, you’re certainly moaning because of each other as well. You can’t help but feel embarrassed as Dorothea watches the way you fuck yourself on your fingers, but the last thing you’re about to do is stop. Embarrassment be damned, you’re far too worked up to even think of stopping and closing your legs now. 

Dorothea squeezes one of her breasts in her hand as she toys with her clit with the other hand, throwing her hips forward towards you with each circle her finger traces over herself. You moan her name, pleading with her to make you feel good, and she only offers you a sweet smile as she stays right where she is. 

“Dorothea, please ,” you beg, wanting nothing more than to have her fingers inside of you as her mouth kisses your clit softly. You want her to make you come on her hands and lips, you want her, but she doesn’t move towards you; opting instead to stay right where she is to watch your performance. 

“Not yet,” she teases simply, and her reply is instant as if she never even considered the idea of indulging you and giving you what you want. You whine in frustration, but your hand keeps moving nonetheless. Dorothea doesn’t let up, either, working herself to orgasm with her own hand right before your eyes. 

Your fingers rub quick, harsh circles into your clit and then, without warning, you’re coming, hips grinding down against the chair beneath you as you moan loudly for Dorothea, who watches you with a pleased smile on her face. Thighs shaking against the chair as you ride your orgasm, your eyes squeeze shut against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Dorothea’s not far behind you, coming as her eyes fight to stay open to watch the way your body shakes in front of her. You’re sure she’s offering you loving praises, as she always does when you come for her, but you’re too caught up in your own orgasm to really hear it. 

Both of your chests heave with deep breaths as your orgasms fade away, leaving you drained of your energy. Despite this, you know you still need Dorothea to make you come, and just ask you’re about to beg her once more, she speaks. 

“Now then,” she hums, patting her lap and inviting you over with a sultry look in her eye. “Come join me up on the bed, darling.”

Chapter Text

Dimitri’s grip is firm on your thighs as he keeps you pulled down against his face, your body hovering just centimeters from his lips, weight supported with shaky knees digging into the sheets of the bed. His grasp on your thighs is fierce, squeezing your flesh between his fingers, nails buried in your skin.  

You’ve been effectively reduced to a withering, whimpering mess above him as he fucks you on his tongue, strong hands preventing you from even trying to shake out of his grasp. He works his tongue on you with a rushed vigor, and you’re blushing with embarrassment at all of the lewd, wet sounds that resound from the motion of Dimitri’s lips moving against your pussy. 

Dimitri had (shyly) expressed wanting to try this with you some time ago following your desire to have him use his strength on you in different ways, whether it be choking or spanking or anything similar. Dimitri was a little less keen on hurting you via spanking you or choking you; rather, he had instead opted to simply use his strength to support you effortlessly as he is now. 

He eats you out intently, and even hungrily , as you writhe on top of his face, hands buried in his hair and tugging on the locks helplessly. His nose brushes up against your clit with each movement of his lips, breathing in the scent of you until it overwhelms and intoxicated his senses.

“Dimitri,” you whine breathlessly as he wiggles his tongue against your entrance, kneading your thighs in his powerful hands. You let out a sharp pant when he bumps his nose against your clit, back hunching over as you run your fingers through his hair. It’s just barely damp from sweat as you anchor yourself with a grip on the locks, body shivering desperately as he continues to work you with his tongue and soft lips. 

He doesn’t reply, far too fixated on burying his mouth in the wet lips of your pussy, but he does offer you a hungry groan of arousal. His tongue traces firm circles around your entrance, savoring the taste of you, and he drinks you in eagerly. Dimitri’s movements are heated and rough as he drags his tongue over your pussy, stopping to draw circles around your sensitive clit. 

“More, please, ” you beg as you feel your orgasm building in your lower stomach, legs twitching in Dimitri’s grip. “Don’t stop.”

Dimitri’s tongue flicks faster against you at your breathy request for more, and his groaning against your pussy noisily as he pushes you towards orgasm. You grip onto his hair for dear life as you come, shaking in his grip as he continues to eat you out roughly. His tongue fucks you through orgasm completely, with Dimitri licking at your clit hungrily. 

You moan and pant his name with need, begging him with whimpers of please don’t stop, Dimitri as he continues to eat you like he’s been starved all his life. 

Soft pants leave your lips as he you finish coming for him, body buzzing and senses overloaded. However, despite how spent you are, Dimitri keeps on licking, tongue tracing slow lines along the lips of your pussy. 

You shiver with overstimulation, tugging futility on his hair in an attempt to get him to stop. “Dimitri, wait,” you whimper, trying (and failing) to pull yourself away from his grip — his firm hold on your thighs makes it difficult to move away from him; your strength is simply no match for his. 

His words are rushed and his tone low, breath hot against your inner thighs. “I can’t wait, my love,” Dimitri groans against you. “I want to have you now. ”

You whine out in an act of protest when he digs back into you, lips mouthing kisses at your pussy as you shiver and shake above him. He’s simply too starved to stop now as he eats you out with fervor, his inhuman strength keeping you at his mercy.

Chapter Text

“You are so beautiful,” your praise is soft and nearly reverent as you run your hands up Marianne’s thighs, who blushes and smiles shyly in response. Her smile is absolutely lovely — after years of never displaying it in her younger days, it’s a very welcome sight now. 

She covers her mouth with one hand in an act of embarrassment and reservation. This prompts you to kiss her bare thigh. “Don’t hide your smile,” you say. “It’s so pretty, Marianne.”

You can see that she’s still smiling from behind her hand; it’s obvious by the way her eyes squint slightly. She’s so cute it’s nearly deadly as she tries to hide her shy smile from you as you praise her and kiss over her skin. You press your lips to her thigh softly before kissing up her leg, to her stomach, where you make quick work of dotting kisses all over her soft skin there. You rub your hands lazily over her stomach, massaging the skin gently with your palms. 

Marianne giggles at the contact, shifting underneath you. “Tickles,” she says simply, removing her hand from over her mouth to smile at you. You laugh at her response, continuing to run your hands up and down her midsection as you kiss the skin gently. 

“You’re so cute,” you mumble. “All of you is so cute.”

Though she isn’t nearly as shy and withdrawn as she used to be, it’s hard not to feel that way when you’re praising her over and over and telling her how much you love her repeatedly. She’s at a loss for words as you continue to praise her; your words cause a blush to settle onto her pale cheeks as you continue to kiss all over her. 

You mumble and whisper praises after each kiss, commenting on how much you love every part of her body and how much you love her. “You’re so pretty,” you say with a kiss. “I love you.” Another kiss to her stomach. “I love your body.” One more kiss.

Continuing to kiss up your body, you make your way up to her breasts, and your hands come to cup them softly. You mouth along her breasts slowly, taking care to kiss every last inch you can reach. Marianne sighs softly and watches you with great, but shy, intent. 

You whisper that you love her again as you kiss along the soft underside of her breasts, and you flick your thumbs up over her nipples to elicit a soft moan from her lips. Marianne whispers your name softly, and she says it in such a way that you know it’s a request for more. You mouth at one of her nipples, kissing the bud slowly, and she’s moaning softly under her breath as you play with her. You take your time; you want her to feel loved because she is so, so very loved by you. 

Tenderly, you slide your hands back down her stomach to settle them between her thighs, spreading her legs wider as you continue to kiss at her nipple. Marianne parts her legs as you push gently on her thighs with her hands, silently coaxing you into settling yourself between them. Your lips kiss back down her stomach gently, taking care to kiss every centimeter on your way down. 

“I love you, Marianne,” you repeat, and she says it back, whispering your name softly and smiling at you. You could say it over and over and never get tired of doing so, and she’d never tire of hearing it and replying to it each time with her own declaration of love. 

You say it once more before you dive between her legs to eat her out, and she tries to reply, but her claim dissolves into an airy moan as you start to work your tongue on her. Your hands massage lovingly into her thighs as you slide your tongue through her lips slowly, and Marianne places herself in your care, submitting to you completely as you work to make her feel good.

Marianne offers you a breathless “I love you, too” as you work her, and when you grip into her thighs, she knows she’s in good hands.

Chapter Text

Ferdinand, above all else, likes to be told that he’s doing a great job. 

It does wonders for his already larger-than-life ego. Ferdinand already knows that he’s the best at everything (though his sparring sessions with Edelgard would suggest otherwise), but he still wants to hear it from others. Not that he needs the reassurance, as he doesn’t need to convince himself that he’s great, he just likes to hear it.

Ferdinand drinks in your praise like water as he continues to thrust into you, soaking up every last syllable of your beholding words. The words leave your lips as jumbled, garbled messes, trying desperately to stay articulate as he continues to sink his cock deep into you over and over. 

“Feels so good, you feel so good,” you whimper, hands clutching his desperately. You’re trying your best to hold onto your wits as he fucks you, an eagerness both to please you and to prove to you just how good he is at pleasing you fueling his harsh thrusts. “Ferdinand, you feel so good.”

“Say it more, my love,” he practically pleas with a groan, staring up at your face intently to watch the way your expressions change as he pounds you. You know that he loves being praised while he makes love to you, and you’re more than happy to babble compliments and frantic, pleasured praises as you take everything he gives you. 

Your hips slap against his with each thrust he gives into you, letting out moan after moan. Your moans serve as their own kind of praise as he pulls them from your lips in droves with his movements. 

“Oh, Ferdinand, I love it,” you sigh, and the sound of his name is nearly reverent as you praise how good he feels inside of you. “Don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t even dream of stopping — you feel way too good for him to stop, and he’s enjoying your praise a little too much to go without it. Your compliments are breathless as each thrust pushes the air out of your lungs, the words coming out as frantic cries of passion and utter ecstasy. You cry out his name again as his hips knock against yours, desperately trying to pull more of your loving words from your mouth. 

“Right here, right there, you’re so good, you’re amazing,” you cry as he thrusts directly into a spot inside of you that makes you wither into the bed below, and Ferdinand shifts his hips in order to train all his thrusts directly onto that spot. You praise him with each fervent movement of his hips, mewling and crying out for him, begging him with calls of “ don’t stop, don’t stop, I love you, Ferdinand” desperately. 

His long hair falls all around his shoulders as he looms over you, eyes fixed on the way your expression changes with each thrust; eyes fluttering closed every so often before you open them again to look up at him, your mouth open in a perpetual gasp of pleasure. Ferdinand laces one hand through yours, and he mumbles a declaration of his love once more. 

“You fuck me so good, I love you, I love you,” you respond with a frenzied cry, legs locking around his waist and pulling him in closer. Ferdinand lets out a low grunt at your words, and with a twitch inside of you, he’s coming just like that, filling you with his release. 

“Yes, oh, yes,” you moan, legs shivering against his waist as he comes, and Ferdinand leans down to roughly claim your lips with his, swallowing every ounce of praise you’re giving him — literally. 

Somehow, he isn’t spent — he keeps thrusting into you vigorously even after he’s done coming, and you figure it’s because your praise fuels him, providing him with all the energy he needs to continue. 

Praises continue to fall from your lips, streams of senseless babble that’s absolute music to Ferdinand’s ears, as he sinks into you over and over, working you towards orgasm. He can only imagine the praise you’ll give him as you come, hips rolling and legs shaking against him. 

His free hand sneaks between your legs and prods circles at your clit, and you melt into his hand, toes curling and back arching. Ferdinand thrusts into you and rubs a harsh motion into your clit, and all of a sudden you’re coming, and he pulls away from your lips so he can hear your cries properly. 

Your words are jumbled and messy as you come, and nothing you’re saying makes sense to your mind, but Ferdinand listens to every single syllable that leaves your mouth. 

“Ferdinand, feels so good, feels so good, you’re so good,” you praise breathlessly, and you nearly sob out those words, orgasm wrecking you. You tell him it over and over, because, truly, Ferdinand is just so good to you, and he, of course, believes you without you even saying it, but it never hurts to hear it again.

Chapter Text

Felix values privacy.

You know this; as his lover, you know that he values his alone time and keeping a good distance from just about everyone above all else. He doesn’t spend too much time with others, he never talks about how he feels with others; he just values keeping to himself.

Naturally, given Felix’s appreciation for solitude, it took a lot of convincing to get him to try being intimate with you even a foot outside of either of your quarters. It was something you had always wanted to try: public sex, even if you don’t go all the way; just simply making out in public would be enough to satiate your curiosity. 

However, you went just a little beyond making out, but Felix is more into it than you thought. 

“Hurry up and finish already,” he pants as you continue to jerk him off with your hand. The two of you are standing off behind a staircase, where the only way you could get caught is if someone either leaned over the side of the stairs or intentionally walked behind the stairs; nobody would be able to see you just walking by. You’re bold, but not bold enough to do it somewhere obvious. 

Your body is pressed up against his, shielding from view, his cock in your hand. Felix spills precum into your palm as you move your hand along him — his typical biting tone betrays his body; you know he’s loving this. 

“No, let me take my time,” you whisper, smiling devilishly. “This is fun, isn’t it?”

“Like hell it is,” he spits back, but groans as your fingers tease the sensitive head of his cock. If he truly didn’t like it, he would have stopped you by now; he’s way too into this and way too eager to come to stop you now. It’s exciting — having sex when you could be caught at any time. "You're annoying."

Unbeknownst to either of you, though, you’ve already been caught. Your observer just hasn’t said a word or made a fuss about it. 

Because he’s just as into this as the two of you are. 

Sylvain rests his elbows on the stone railing of the staircase above, lips tracing a downright sadistic smirk at the view below him. His eyes watch with focused intent on your hand, jerking off his best friend, your soft body flat against Felix’s. 

“Didn’t expect Felix to do something this bold,” Sylvain whispers to himself. “This is way more my speed than his.” He would be lying if he said he didn’t wish that he was in Felix’s place, with your hand wrapped around his length while Sylvain whispers dirty praises in your ear. 

Back on the ground below, you lower yourself to your knees, causing both Felix and Sylvain above to let out groans of approval. 

“Having fun?” you tease, and Felix scoffs and scowls at you. “You’re so hard, Felix.” 

“You’re so obnoxious,” he grunts, threading one hand through your hair and pulling you roughly towards his cock. “Just suck it already.” 

Giggling, you take the head of his cock into your mouth, tracing your tongue around it slowly. Meanwhile, above you, Sylvain leans over a little farther to get a better view of you on your knees, his best friend’s cock in your mouth. Sylvain can feel himself getting hard in his pants, and if he were better concealed, he’d probably jerk himself off; but he’s far more exposed to the world than you two are; tucked away behind the stairs. He has to strain to hear your little moans of pleasure as you suck Felix off, but the view alone is pornographic enough. 

He watches the way you take Felix further into your mouth until nearly all of his cock is pushed past your pretty lips, your hands steadying yourself against Felix’s thighs. Sylvain’s cock twitches in his pants as he imagines himself in Felix’s place; your mouth wrapped oh-so-sweetly around his cock. 

You take as much of Felix as you can comfortably, looking up at him curiously. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s biting into his bottom lip to keep himself from making any noises that someone else could overhear — despite the fact that someone else is already eavesdropping. 

Bobbing your head along his cock, you’re equally focused on both sucking off your boyfriend and keeping yourself from making any noise — as if staying quiet will keep you from being caught, with Sylvain already watching the two of you. Felix’s hand tightens around your hair as you work your mouth on his cock, one of your hands leaving his legs to sneak between your thighs under your skirt. The action just about kills Sylvain, who’s pleasantly surprised at how naughty you are. Felix better be careful; Sylvain just might try and steal you away from him. 

You rub your fingers over your clothed pussy in an attempt to please yourself a little as your lips work Felix to orgasm. Above you, Sylvain is impossibly hard in his pants, eyes trained on the hand that disappeared between your thighs. Gods above, you’re touching yourself in public, and Sylvain wishes he could do the same. 

Felix pushes his hips forward, further shoving himself into your mouth, and just like that, he comes, shooting his cum out onto your waiting tongue. Sylvain watches as you swallow Felix’s cum, the hand between your legs picking up the pace to rub yourself faster. 

Groaning lowly and grunting your name under his breath, Felix pulls himself out of your mouth, working at catching his breath. You tell Felix something Sylvain can’t quite hear, but seeing as the show’s finished, Sylvain simply struts away to tend to his own erection in his room. 

Felix looks up at the staircase following what you said, scowling angrily. “Remind me to wring the life out of Sylvain’s neck later.”

Chapter Text

There are few things more frightening than being robbed of your sight, despite how it’s only a temporary loss of vision. 

Hubert’s touch certainly doesn’t help; it’s anything but comforting as he runs his hand through your hair slowly, freeing it from where it’s bunched up around the headband secured around the back of your head. 

You’re scared solely because you have absolutely no idea of knowing what he’s going to do to you next, seeing as you can’t see his hands or his expression. You’re afraid, sure, but you also can’t deny that you’re completely aroused by how helpless you feel in his hands. The wetness between your legs would certainly attest to that despite the terrified goosebumps that dot along your skin. 

“Is it too tight?” he asks. Even Hubert has his moments of mercy, you suppose. You shake your head, and he chuckles. 

“Good,” he breathes into your ear. “I would just hate for you to try and wriggle out of my grasp. Behave yourself, understood?”

“I will,” you say frantically, and the words leave your lungs in a frantic gasp as he pulls lightly on your hair as if to solidify your position beneath him. 

“We won’t have any problems then, will we?” His words prompt a nod from you, and he moves his hand away from your head to wrap it loosely around your neck. His free hand comes to rest between your thighs, and you twitch when you feel the fabric of his glove against your sensitive inner thigh. There’s just something so arousing about having him touch you all over with the rough fabric of his gloves rather than his bare palms. 

You can’t see it, but you can certainly hear the sadistic grin in his tone as he continues to speak to you, ridiculing you for how utterly helpless you look before him like this. Wrists tied behind your back, vision blocked by a blindfold, and legs spread wide for his touch — you look so submissive he’d almost call it pathetic. 

“Please, touch me,” you beg, and Hubert only offers you a mocking laugh.

“Making demands now, are we?” he asks, clearly amused by your sudden boldness. “I don’t believe you’re in any position to be requesting anything of me.” 

You’re quick to offer an apology, sputtering out a hurried I’m sorry, Hubert, but the damage has already been done — you’ve already spoken out of turn. 

There’s a sharp strike against one of your cheeks, and all you can do is gasp in surprise at the unexpected feeling. Hubert had slapped you. He had slapped you right across your face as punishment for your little outburst. You figured that he would do something to reprimand you for making requests despite your current position, but you certainly weren’t expecting to be hit. It didn’t hurt you as much as it surprised you, and your mouth hangs open in a shocked gasp as you try to compose yourself again. 

Hubert laughs; it’s a sneering sound. “Close your mouth, unless you’re trying to attract the flies.” Embarrassed, you do so, and it’s only then that the sting in your cheek starts to settle in. 

“Behave yourself,” he repeats. You nod quickly, and you should be ashamed of how much having him slap you turned you on, but you just aren’t. 

One of his hands tightens its grip around your neck as the other settles onto one of your thighs, parting your legs a little wider for him. You’re shivering in his grip from equal parts submissive fear and shameful arousal, and you think you might be tearing up beneath your blindfold, but you’re not entirely sure. 

Hubert slides a gloved finger through the lips of your pussy slowly, and he lets out a chuckle of dark amusement as you drip onto his finger, dampening the fabric. 

His words are sneering, grating. “You’re this aroused? I’ve hardly touched you.” You know not to say a word in reply, and you’re far too embarrassed with yourself to say anything anyways. You simply swallow hard as he continues to rub a finger through your labia teasingly slowly, watching the way you shiver and twitch beneath him. 

“I’ll give you permission to say one word,” Hubert says, and you whine pathetically when his finger comes to rub against your clit. Your hips twitch against his hand and he laughs again, delighting in just how desperate you are for his touch. “Make it count, understood?”

Your speech is slow and it just screams uncertainty, but this was the only word that came to mind. “Please,” you whimper, and you can’t see it, but you’re sure that Hubert approves of your response, if the way he begins to move his fingers faster against your clit is any indication of that. You figure it’s a reward for how you’ve behaved since your outburst, but there’s no way of knowing for sure when it comes to Hubert, who remains as unreadable as always. The fact that you can’t see the expression on his face only amplifies that fact. 

“Good answer,” he says, though you know better than to take it as praise. Your panting and moaning pick up as he traces harsh circles around your clit, and you’re trying so hard not to whimper and beg for more since he didn’t ask you to beg. 

Before long, you’re coming onto his fingers from the stimulation, hips rolling frantically against his hand as you moan out his name desperately. It just feels so good — you couldn’t stop your hips if your life depended on it. 

Though at the very least, perhaps you should have at least tried to hold yourself back from coming, though it’s already too late. 

Hubert’s voice fills you with an impossible sense of dread as you brace yourself for the punishment that’s sure to follow. 

“I didn’t give you permission to come, did I?”

Chapter Text

“I already told you, if you want it, you need to beg for it, Yuri,” you remind him.

He rolls his eyes and offers you a challenging smirk, and for a moment you find yourself thinking man, how I’d like to wipe that stupid smirk off his face before he replies.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively, bound wrists tugging on his restraints. You’ve rigged him to the headboard using a pair of handcuffs, and the clinking of the metal against your headboard is absolutely rhythmic as Yuri tries, and fails, to wiggle his wrists free. “Look at you, trying to be all dominant. It’s going to take a lot more than you pretending to be angry with me to get me to beg.”

“Don’t backtalk me,” you say with a pout, and Yuri laughs with amusement at how the cute expression is betraying your attempts to be a big, bad, scary dominatrix. You’re not exactly the most dominant of people, but he’s incredibly amused with your attempts to dominate him, so he continues to play along and push your buttons just to irritate you. In truth, Yuri could have wriggled himself free out of his handcuffs a long time ago, but watching you dominate him is far more entertaining than freeing up his wrists so he can have his way with you. 

“Or what?” Yuri challenges. “How do you possibly plan on punishing me for my impudence, dearest?”

You stutter for a moment, trying to come up with a comeback that’ll make him blush. You’re not supposed to be the one who’s flustered here, you’re the one who’s dominating him , but that trademark silver tongue of his is making it increasingly difficult to keep up your act.  

“I’ll spank you,” is all you can manage, and Yuri can’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“Oh, is that so? How very frightening,” he teases. “I’m just beside myself with fear and utter submission to you.”

You let out a frustrated groan, and decide that perhaps you’re better off getting him to beg with your actions, not your words. You absolutely will have Yuri begging for you and your strap before the end of the night if it’s the last thing you ever do. 

Yuri watches with fascinated intent as you slide yourself down onto your stomach between his spread legs, and you offer him a light kiss to the head of his cock. He clearly needs you impossibly badly, and if he won’t make it clear with his words, he’s certainly making it clear with his body. His cock stands at full attention for your stimulation, precum dripping from the tip of his cock in an act that betrays the apparent indifference of his words. 

“Beg,” you command, taking his cock into your hand and gripping the base in your palm. 

Yuri only offers you a thoughtful hum. “Maybe if I feel like it.” 

You pump your hand up and down along his cock slowly in an attempt to make him beg for more: beg for you to go faster, beg for you to pump him harder, beg for you to make him come — beg for anything you’re willing to give him. Your pace is almost lazy, even, it’s so slow you’d be surprised if he was able to get any pleasure from it at all. 

Which, conveniently, is exactly your goal. 

“Would it kill you to go faster? ” Yuri huffs, and you’re just absolutely delighted by the pink twinge on his cheeks. He wants it, he wants it so bad, even if he’s refusing to give into your demands by begging.

“If you beg for it, I will,” you say, smiling up at him innocently. 

“Fine, you win,” Yuri replies, admitting defeat with a grin. “Please make me come, dear.”

“You can do better than that, can’t you? At least use a more pleading tone,” you giggle, swiping your thumb over the weeping tip of his cock. 

Yuri rolls his eyes once more and his tone pitches up high, heeding your request. “Please touch my cock, I need you to make me come, please, please.” His whining, whimpering tone is absolute music to your ears. 

“That’s a good boy, Yuri,” you praise, and you close your hand around his cock and pump your hand with a quick vigor, rewarding him for finally begging for you.

“Gods, don’t stop, please, please don’t stop,” he continues, and the way he continues to babble and whine for you is proof that you’ve accomplished your goal to make Yuri beg for you desperately. 

Chapter Text

To the unknowledgeable onlooker, you probably look like you’re in need of a doctor. Your hands are balled into fists in your lap, head hung over as your eyes bore into the table, hiding the deep flush on your cheeks that is, to the unsuspecting eye, perhaps indicative of a high fever. You’re biting so hard into your lip it’s a surprise you haven’t yet drawn blood in an attempt to keep yourself quiet.

Claude, however, is anything but a confused observer. He glances over at your lap and watches the way you knock your thighs up against one another as you squirm in your seat. Your gaze burns into the wood of the table as you press your fists against your thighs, and every now and then, Claude thinks he can see your lip shiver as you try desperately to hold back your noises. 

He leans over, and you can feel his breath on your ear. “Feeling alright, sweetheart?”

No, you dick, you want to say, but you don’t open your mouth in fear of a moan slipping out. You shift your thighs again, and the vibrator that’s inside of you slips a little, rubbing up against the walls of your pussy at a different angle and you have to fight back a whimper. 

Claude doesn’t say anything, and you don’t look at him, but you know he’s smirking at your plight. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him fiddle with the small remote to the toy that’s inside of you in his hand, and you pray to every God you know of that he doesn’t turn up the intensity. 

The Gods fail to hear your prayers. 

Claude slides his finger up over some dial and you can feel the buzzing get more intense inside of you, and you almost fear that someone walking by could hear the sound of the vibrations. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thighs press hard against each other. 

“Claude ,” you whimper out as silently as possible, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the buzzing of the vibrator inside of you is louder than your voice. 

“Yes, darling?” he asks you, and his pet names do little to remedy your desperate situation. You’re so wet in your panties and around the toy inside of you, and you’re dressed in an adorably tiny skirt, soaked panties pressed up against the chair beneath you.  

You swallow hard and dig your nails into your thighs, whimpering weakly when the base of the vibrator buzzes up against your clit. It’s getting nearly impossible to keep your noises in, and you want to beg so badly for him to turn the intensity down, but you know you can only talk for so long before a moan interrupts your words.

“Please, ” is all you can muster. Much to your dismay, he only turns the intensity up one more level — how much higher can this thing even go? — and you clamp one of your hands over your mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back as much of your tiny whimpers and gasps as you can. 

“‘Please’ what? ‘Please’ make you come?” Claude whispers teasingly, and he settles a hand on your thigh over one of yours. “You want to come for me, right here, out in public?”

You nod your head slowly, shifting your hips so the vibrator rubs firmer up against your clit, vibrating against it and making your hips twitch against the seat. Claude slips his hand under your skirt to prod a finger at your panties, chuckling when he feels just how wet you are, soaked through your flimsy panties for him.

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispers into your ear. “Getting this wet for me out in public like this? You’re dirtier than I thought.”

“No,” you whimper. Claude cups you in his hand, delighting in the feeling of the dull vibrations against his palm.

“‘No’ you’re not wet for me, or ‘no’ you’re not dirty?” Claude chuckles low in his throat. You’re getting close, he can feel it — you’re shivering desperately against his hand and your breathing is ragged behind the palm you have clamped over your mouth. You tremble in his grip, sighing sharply when Claude presses the heel of his hand into your clit, and his palm pushes up against the base of the vibrator, effectively pushing it deeper into you. You let out a moan you try to disguise as a cough, looking frantically around behind you to see if anyone noticed. Nobody’s looking your way, so you assume nobody has noticed you yet. 

“Come for me, alright?” Claude says, voice low and smooth in your ear. He rubs the heel of his hand against your clit, and your hips roll for him once more and then you’re coming, body shivering in his grip right there in your seat. You moan into your hand and bite down onto one of your fingers in a vain attempt to keep quiet, and you don’t even have to look over at Claude to know he’s still smirking as you come. 

The vibrator inside of you stops buzzing after Claude clicks a button on the remote, and only then does it hit you how wet you are, panties clinging to your pussy beneath his hand. 

“You did so well,” Claude praises, offering you a kiss to one of your cheeks. “Let’s get you back to my room so you can moan all you want for me, all right?”

Chapter Text

“Let me cherish your heat for a little longer, my love,” Dimitri whispers into your ear, pulling you back against his chest in a tight hug.

“Dimitri, we need to clean up,” you protest, alluding to the cum that’s dripping down your thighs, courtesy of you and Dimitri’s prior activities. He had finished inside of you, but rather than pulling out right afterwards like normal to allow you to use the restroom and clean yourself up, he had instead opted to remain inside of you, relishing in the warmth wrapped around his cock. You feel absolutely filthy with his cum inside of you like this, plugged up by the thick cock that remains pressed deep inside of you. 

Dimitri intertwines his legs with yours beneath the sheets as he pulls you closer to his chest, arms wrapped tight around your waist. He’s holding you so close you’re surprised you haven’t already melted into his body as he tries to absorb as much of your body heat as possible — it just feels so good. 

“That can wait, my love,” he says. No, it really can’t, but you don’t say that because it would simply fall on deaf ears. “Just let me hold you close for a little longer.”

You know that “a little” means “for the rest of the night,” but you don’t say anything, instead trying to make yourself comfortable in his tight grip. His arms are strong and muscular around your waist, keeping you pulled back against his sturdy form with every ounce of strength he has — and, being Dimitri, that’s a lot of strength. 

A small stream of his cum escapes past the makeshift plug that is his own cock, and you blush at the feeling of it trickling down your inner thigh. Dimitri doesn’t seem to feel it; he doesn’t shift even the slightest amount as you’re left to try and focus on anything besides the impossibly lewd feeling of his cum running down your legs. Dimitri came a lot —  he always does — and you’re sufficiently filled to the very brim with his release.

Dimitri doesn’t seem to notice your plight as he nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. You’re panting softly as the feeling of all of his cum inside of you, plugged up by his cock, starts to arouse you again. Your body can’t possibly take another round of him thrusting into you, but you begin to entertain the thought of a second round with him more and more with each passing second as you try not to focus on the feeling of him sliding himself deeper into you. He doesn’t even move when you let out a little moan. 

He does, however, move when he feels your pussy tighten up around him, and he grunts under his breath at the feeling of your tight heat squeezing up around his cock. He’s since gone soft inside of you following his orgasm, but with the way you’re squeezing around him, neither of you would be surprised if you accidentally brought him back up to full hardness. 

Dimitri’s blushing deep as he starts to slowly and tentatively thrust back into you, and the movements are so languid you have no choice but to focus on the feeling of every inch sinking into you little by little, sliding in and out of you as you’re left to moan weakly at the feeling. His movements are slow as to test the waters, trying to see if you’ll stop him because he is certainly up for another round. 

“Do you think,” he whispers, pushing himself completely into you. “You can go again?”

You don’t reply at first, focusing instead on his cock inside of you, which is hardening again frighteningly fast. Can you blame him? You’re just so tight and so warm around him he just couldn’t help himself. You can almost feel his heart thudding in his chest against your back, and his body is nearly as hot as yours is now; arousal coursing through his veins like molten lava. 

You breathe out a yes, Dimitri, and just like that, he flips you over onto your back, and you find yourself immediately missing the feeling of his body pressed right up against yours. He pulls himself out of you completely and you wince at the cum that drips out down your leg, and you’re further embarrassed when you notice how intently Dimitri is watching the stream trickle down your thighs. You’re just so utterly arousing when you’ve been marked by him like that. 

“Well? Don’t keep me waiting,” you tease, spreading your legs wider for him. 

Just like that, he’s back inside of you, hammering himself into your pussy fervently, groaning at just how hot and wet you are for him, because there is truly no heat he cherishes more than that of your body’s.

Chapter Text

“Since when did this become one of the duties of a cute little maid?” Sylvain chuckles, running a hand through your hair as you bob your head along his cock. “Whatever happened to only serving tea and doing laundry and all that?”

You glare up at him (well, as best you can, anyways), eyebrows furrowed and lips puffed out in a pout around his cock. Sylvain only smirks in reply, his other hand reaching for the teacup on the table. 

He takes a sip from the tea you poured for him, his gaze never breaking away from yours. You release his cock from your lips with a strand of saliva still connecting his tip to your lower lip, and look up at him with an adorable kind of annoyance, the ferocity of your glare dulled by the adorable combination of your flushed cheeks and pursed lips. Replacing your mouth with your hand, you close your fist around his length and pump him firmly, watching the way he pulls the teacup away from his lips. He bites into his lip at the feeling of the soft fabric of your glove wrapped around his cock. 

“This is delicious,” he notes, smirking, setting the cup back down on its saucer. “Pour yourself a cup too once we’re all done here and talk to me for a while, cutie.”

“You’re insufferable,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Sylvain only offers you a fake pout, though the look in his eyes is anything but apologetic. His eyes are smoldering, lust leaving his eyes lidded and narrow as he looks down at you, body posed on your knees, maid dress adorning your lovely form. 

“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your master?” he chirps, giving your hair a gentle tug, your maid’s headband sliding back a little thanks to his action. “You should make it up to me, as my sweet little maid.”

You’re left to blush beneath him, hand working his cock smoothly as he offers you dirty praises and teasing remarks. Using your free hand, you tuck a strand of hair back behind your ear as you retract your other hand off his cock. Pressing a soft kiss to the head, you smile against his skin when you hear Sylvain take a deep breath in. 

“You’re such a tease,” he groans, a shallow laugh leaving his parted lips. “I love it.” 

Taking only the head of his cock into your mouth, your hand traces up his thigh to tease at the hem of his shirt. It’s an exciting feeling; doing this while the two of you are both nearly completely clothed. 

Sliding your palm up under his shirt to rest on his abs, you take more of him into your mouth, eyes fluttering shut. Sylvain bucks his hips into your mouth in an approving gesture, praising you for the way you work your tongue and lips around his hard cock. 

“That’s it, beautiful,” Sylvain praises quietly, hips sliding smoothly in rhythm with the movements of your head. You’re way too good at sucking him off; your movements have him taking deep, shaky breaths to try and steady himself. The hand that isn’t resting against his abs comes to wrap around the base of his cock as your mouth teases his head further. 

Sylvain watches you with intent, a lazy grin making its way onto his lips as he rewards your movements with groans and heavy pants. His nails dig lightly into the back of your head, wordlessly begging you to take more of his cock into your warm mouth, and you happily oblige. It’s a maid’s job to heed her master’s requests, after all. 

Sliding your mouth down more onto his cock until your lips nearly meet your hand, wrapped around the hilt of his dick, you look up at him with a look in your eyes that borders on teasingly innocent. You know exactly what you’re trying to do to him, and his reaction is priceless. 

“Fuck,” Sylvain groans under his breath, gaze meeting yours. The entire scene is downright pornographic; you, on your knees for him and adorned in a slutty maid dress, his cock pushed into your mouth so far it teases your gag reflex, your eyes trained on his. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Sylvain has to fight his eyelids from fluttering shut so he can maintain eye contact with you, the act unbelievably arousing. Sylvain gives your hair a firm tug, cock twitching in your mouth, threatening to come right down your throat. 

“Let me come on you,” he says, chest heaving with hot breaths. “Wanna stain that pretty dress of yours.” You, of course, oblige, pulling your mouth and hand away from his cock to sit back on your heels. 

Reaching down, Sylvain takes hold of his cock with the hand that isn’t threaded through your hair, pumping himself to orgasm as he gazes down at you. He comes with a deep groan of your name, cum spurting out in red-hot, white ropes across your clothed breasts and face. You obediently part your lips to try and catch some of his cum on your tongue, a gesture that has Sylvain’s head spinning with arousal. 

His cum sticks to the fabric with ease, fluid splattered across the front of your dress; you can only hope that it comes out with some scrubbing. Once Sylvain’s finished, you stand back up and settle yourself on his lap, his cock resting between your stocking-clad thighs. 

“Sorry, babe, did I ruin this pretty little outfit?” Sylvain asks with a chuckle, hands wasting no time in starting to pull it off of you. 

“Let’s get you out of it so you can ride me, alright?”

Chapter Text

Though it’s certainly not an uncommon occurrence for Edelgard to be wandering out and about in the middle of the night, you weren’t expecting to find her in the cathedral of all places. You always expect to see her at least once while you’re out walking around at night, but it’s awfully unusual to see her in a place of worship given her attitude towards the Church of Seiros and all related figures, such as Rhea. 

The only thing that pierces through the darkness of the cathedral is the moonlight, shining in from the open arches on the sides of the building and through the giant holes in the ceiling. 

You don’t have much reason to be here this late at night, either, but at least it makes slightly more sense for you to be in the cathedral than Edelgard, who you call out to, pulling her from her thoughts. 

“Edelgard?” you call tentatively, confused. She turns to face you, and for a moment she had seemed startled, which only makes sense given how deep in thought she was. The look of shock on her face dissolves into a gentle smile when she realizes it’s you, and she breathes a soft sigh of relief. She’s not really in the mood to talk to anyone other than you. 

You make your way over to her, and you can’t help but notice how lovely she looks, bathed in the moonlight. Neither of you believe much in otherworldly beings, but given both the moonlight that reflects off of her pale hair beautifully and the religious artwork that surrounds the two of you, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that she looks like an angel right now. 

“Oh, it’s you,” she says with a small laugh. “I was preparing myself for a lecture from Hubert.”

You giggle as you embrace her in a hug. You wouldn’t exactly consider her your girlfriend , as there are matters slightly more pressing now for the two of you than romance, but that doesn’t mean the two of you can’t enjoy little moments like this. 

“I’ve missed you,” Edelgard says softly as she wraps her arms around your back. 

“Missed me?” you say with an incredulous laugh. “I just saw you at dinner.” It’s nice to see a softer side of the ever-so-composed Emperor Edelgard. 

“Oh, you know that’s not what I meant,” she replies, nuzzling her face into your neck. She isn’t wearing her usual armor, so you assume that she must have just awoken not too long ago — she’s dressed only in a long white nightgown, hair free from their usual buns. You’re the only one who ever gets to see her like this, and Gods are you lucky. “I’ve missed being with you like this. ”

She’s cute when she’s honest; she’s cute when she’s trying to indirectly request more affection from you.

You can take a hint. You take her chin in one of your hands and tilt her head into a kiss, catching her lips in yours softly. There’s a small sigh of relief against your lips like she’s been wanting this all day, and she’s pressing her body firmer against yours as she tries to deepen the kiss. It’s not often you get to see Edelgard this eager for your affections, so you assume she’s been having some particularly stressful dreams as of late. Those nightmares paired with the never-ending stress of war have likely caused her to search for semblance in the form of your love —   and you’re more than happy to provide. 

Her tongue slides over your lower lip, a silent request for you to open your mouth, and you oblige, and just like that, Edelgard’s tongue is in your mouth, sliding against yours as the two of you kiss each other deeper and deeper. She’s letting out the cutest sighs against your mouth as you continue to kiss her, and for a moment, you forget that you’re kissing her in what’s meant to be a holy place of worship for the followers of the Church. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” you tease, and she laughs quietly.

“And why not? Afraid that Sothis will damn us for all eternity? I tend to not let myself become so preoccupied with such irrational and baseless fears,” Edelgard replies. She’s right, though, and perhaps there’s no better way for her to show her distaste of the Church of Seiros than by committing an act of great debauchery in the holiest place of worship to its followers. 

You don’t have a reply, and you instead opt to keep on kissing her, and she moans when you paw at one of her breasts over the delicate silk of her nightgown. 

“Do that again,” Edelgard breathes, and you reply by groping at her breast again, squeezing it delicately in your palm. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this. I love you.” 

You whisper that you love her back as one of her hands pushes itself down into the waistband of your pants, and there’s a messy tangle of arms between both of your bodies, but neither of you can be bothered to care. You’re both far too preoccupied with touching each other to care about much else. You continue to cup and squeeze her breasts in your hand as Edelgard makes quick work of pushing her hand into your panties, sliding her fingers tentatively along your slit. 

A few years ago, you wouldn’t even think of having sex in such a holy place, but as Edelgard starts to trace circles around your clit, you can’t even be bothered to wonder if Sothis would forgive you for this or not.

Chapter Text

“You don’t have to do this for me,” Dedue says, and his voice is so low it’s practically a whisper. He’s embarrassed, you can tell he is by both the deep blush on his cheeks and the expression on his face; he almost looks nervous. He refuses to meet your gaze, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s so embarrassed he can’t .

You look up at him from your position on your knees on the floor, cupping the base of his cock in your hands. Dedue almost feels bad even though you’re doing this on your own accord and because you want to, but he feels like, at the very least, he should at least be doing something to ensure you’re getting pleasure out of it too. He feels awkward just standing here and receiving everything you’re giving him, hands hanging helplessly at his sides.

“I want to,” you reassure him, pumping your hand slowly along the base of his cock. “Let me take care of you, Dedue.” It’s only fair, seeing as he’s always taking care of you with slow, careful movements of his hands, lips, and tongue. “You’ll let me, won’t you?”

Dedue swallows hard; you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. He nods his head slowly and you smile up at him before you resume your work. Despite how shy he is about sitting back and just letting you take care of him, he’s impossibly hard in your hands. He still feels like he should be pleasing you wholly rather than letting you do all the work, but he knows it’s pointless to argue with you; you’re dead set on making him feel good. 

You swipe your tongue over the head of his cock and he shivers, balling his hands into fists. Dedue watches you with equal parts embarrassment and pleasured intent as you take the tip of his cock into your mouth slowly. He’s certainly big so you have to be careful and slow, not that he seems to mind, of course. 

Wrapping one of your hands around the base of his cock as you tease the head with your tongue, your other hand comes to rest flat against one of Dedue’s thighs. Dedue groans under his breath from above you as you continue to slowly work your tongue around the tip of his cock. You have no choice but to take things slow due to his size, lest you push yourself too quickly, but luckily from you, Dedue is far from impatient. 

Languidly, you trace your tongue down a prominent vein that runs along the side of his cock, and you can practically feel Dedue shiver at the act. His hips remain perfectly still as you continue to work more of him into your mouth.

“Please,” Dedue says simply, and though it’s far from a plea, it certainly sounds needy. You pull your mouth away from his cock in order to grin up at him coyly, your hand continuing to pump along his length slowly. 

However, you say nothing, opting instead to kiss along his cock rather than tease him. It’s not often that Dedue shows such need for you, but it’s certainly a welcome change of pace. Dedue’s hips arch towards your mouth reflexively as you take just about half of his length into your mouth, and the groan he lets out goes straight between your thighs. Inch by inch, you work your lips further down until you feel him in your throat, and the sound you let out is both an involuntary whimper of pain and a declaration of pleasure. 

Dedue isn’t faring much better, eyes fixed on the sight of you taking his cock past your lips until you’re almost kissing his hips. You squeeze your eyes shut and focus on bringing all of your air in through your nose. Dedue really shouldn’t be so aroused by the little whimper you make around his cock, but he just can’t help it. 

He breathes your name quietly and shakily as you begin to bob your head ever-so-slowly, and you feel tears prickling in the corners of your eyes at the feeling of Dedue’s cock resting in your throat, but you keep going nonetheless. His hand hovers over the back of your head instinctively, and he wants so badly to thread his fingers through your hair, but he doesn’t and instead allows for you to just continue what you’re doing at your own pace. 

You let out little moans and tiny whines around his cock as you speed up, leaving Dedue scrambling to find ways to try and delay his orgasm as much as possible, but he finds it’s growing increasingly difficult with each movement of your mouth. Gods above , he thinks, because you’re dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock as you suck him off, and he knows it’s utterly pointless to try and hold back.

Dedue twitches against your tongue and you pull back so only the tip of his cock rests in your mouth, and just seconds later, he’s coming, thick cum splattering across your tongue as you work as best as you can at swallowing it. He slides his hips back away from your mouth so you can work at catching your breath, and you wipe your lips on your forearm before you look up at him. 

Your words come out only as a strained breath as you gasp quietly for air. “Letting me do all the work isn't so bad, right?"

Chapter Text

Ferdinand didn’t mean to let his hair get as long as it is now, but you certainly aren’t complaining — it makes for a wonderful anchor for your hands as he buries his face between your thighs.

Ferdinand’s long hair is looped all around your knuckles as he nuzzles his cheek against one of your thighs, looking up at you adoringly from between your soft legs. Fiery orange stands out stark against the color of your skin as you pull desperately on his hair, shivering in the wake of your orgasm. He had brought you to orgasm with slow movements of his tongue against your clit, working you and building you up for hours before finally pushing you over the edge. 

“You’re so lovely,” he praises softly against your thigh, and you almost don’t hear it, mind buzzing in post-orgasm glow. Your chest heaves with pants before your eyes as you try to hold his gaze, grip on his hair tightening. 

You whimper out his name when he mouths kisses back down your thigh before planting his mouth over your dripping pussy once more, groaning as the taste of you floods over his tongue once more. He hardly gave you time to recover from your orgasm before he dove back in to drink you in, hands pushing your thighs further apart. You try to squeeze them around his head as you’re forced to just lie there and let him work his mouth on you again, but Ferdinand’s strong grip on your legs prevents you from doing so. 

Ferdinand lets his eyes flutter shut, focusing on eating you out instead. He eats you like he’s trying to prove to you that nobody else could ever make you feel as good as he makes you feel, but it’s useless to try, because you already know that nobody else could eat you as good as he does.

The way you tug and pull on his hair more than spurs Ferdinand on to keep on eating you, eating you like you’re his last meal and he’s been starved for years. You’re so wet for him and it’s driving him wild knowing that he’s the only one who can make you respond like this. 

“So much, too much,” you moan out, body painfully sore and overstimulated, but it’s hard for you to back up your claims when your hips are saying that you need more. Ferdinand relishes in the way you beg for him as he continues to lap at you fervently. He pulls your legs up so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and it’s in that moment when he decides that there’s simply nowhere better to be than between your legs with your thighs wrapped tight around his face. 

“Say my name, my love,” Ferdinand groans, and he says it so fast it almost fails to register in your mind. Your heels rest against his back as he tightens his grip on the outside of your thighs, and your tailbone is just barely raised off the bed as he continues to eat your cunt, and you’re continuing to pull hard on his hair and Ferdinand loves it. He’s always responded well to your words of praise, as they flatter his ego just a little too much, but the way you pull on his hair just does something special to him. 

When Ferdinand traces his tongue around your clit in a slow, slow circle you whimper out his name and tug on his hair, and his cock throbs desperately thanks to the combined effect your whines and hard pulls on his long hair has on him. 

It only takes a few more broad strokes of his tongue to drive you wild beneath him, and you’re coming for him as you try to anchor yourself using his hair, clinging onto it with your fingers like it’s a lifeline as you come. Your thighs squeeze around the side of his face and he loves the feeling of your soft skin against him. 

Once your thighs have stopped shaking at least somewhat against his face, Ferdinand lays your legs back down softly against the bed and you remove your hands from his hair carefully. You’re still shivering just slightly as he comes up to kiss you, and you can taste yourself on him as he kisses you slowly.

“Now then, my love,” he whispers, and you shiver when you feel him take ahold of your hips to align them with his cock. “Can you go once more?”

Chapter Text

With long, soft, emerald hair flowing over the sides of his pillow, long, wispy eyelashes flat against white cheeks, and mouth open ever-so-slightly in a quiet stream of breaths, Linhardt looks downright angelic as he sleeps soundly and peacefully, but that just makes your current actions all the more vile. Your absolutely sinful actions juxtaposed with his quiet slumber are likely enough to land you a one-way ticket to hell’s door — not that you could be bothered to care right now, of course.  

You press your lips delicately to the underside of his cock, which is still soft in your fist’s gentle grip around the base. Linhardt’s pants lie bunched up around one ankle, as your hands had made quick work of discarding them so you could indulge in you and Linhardt’s shared fantasy of sex while he sleeps. 

You take care to kiss all up and down his cock as you work at arousing him while he continues to sleep, entirely undisturbed. Linhardt’s a heavy sleeper, so while you don’t exactly have to take care not to stir him from his slumber, you keep your voice quiet and movements slow and careful all the same. 

Removing your palm from around the base of his cock, you spit into it to provide a bit of lubricant before you get to work. Your mouth dots kisses along the tip of his cock in coordination with your hand as you close your fist around his cock once more before you begin to pump along his length, and much to your delight, he’s starting to get hard for you while he sleeps . The feeling of his cock twitching and hardening in your very grip is enough to make you wet, and the debauchery of the entire sin betrays the serenity on his face with eyelashes fanned out over pale cheeks and lips parted in soundless, steady breaths. 

“You’re so good for me, Lin,” you whisper to nobody but yourself, and you know you really, really, really shouldn’t be as turned on as you are by the actions of desecrating your husband while he sleeps. “Getting nice and hard for me like this, you’re so good.” 

He can’t hear you, of course, but you figure it serves to set the scene a little. Linhardt’s cock continues to twitch as you work your closed hand along the shaft and your lips on the head, and it isn’t long before beads of precum smear across your lips. He’s fully erect now, and your thighs knock against one another in an act seeking friction as the realization that Linhardt’s completely aroused for you in his sleep hits you with enough force to threaten to knock you clean over.

With your knees pressed firmly against the mattress between Linhardt’s spread legs and your ass up in the air, you slide your mouth down further along his cock, and only then do you finally hear his breaths waver from their steady tempo. It isn’t quite a gasp, but his next breath is sucked in harsher than the previous ones, and you wonder if he’s feeling it while he dreams. 

Though, considering the way he continues to twitch against your tongue as you take him in your mouth, you figure he must be feeling it, at least a little. You do your best to keep your sounds as quiet as possible as you bob your head along his cock, and you have to fight back a delighted moan when Linhardt’s hips push slightly up against yours. Your eyes dart up to his face to see if he had perhaps awoken, but you figure you’re safe when you see how his expression hasn’t changed and his body just instinctively seeks yours out, even while he’s fast asleep. 

It only takes a few more movements of your lips before he’s spilling into your mouth, and Linhardt lets out another grunt between his steady breaths as his cum floods over your tongue. You swallow, as you don’t have access to a tissue to spit into, and pull yourself away from Linhardt’s cock to glance up at him again. 

You aren’t sure whether he actually awakened just then by sheer coincidence or if he was awake since the start, but it doesn’t matter. 

Linhardt wipes his drowsy eyes with the back of an arm and looks down at you curiously, and he doesn’t seem to notice his cock dripping cum in your hand right away; perhaps that serves as proof that he truly is still half-asleep. 

“Good morning,” you say simply, smiling up at him. “Did you sleep well?”

Chapter Text

Felix’s eyes bore into your body with an intensity that nearly cuts right through you, but seeing as you’ve since grown accustomed to his icy stares, they no longer have such an effect on you. Despite the very apparent irritation in his eyes, they remain fixed on your body as you bounce your hips playfully along his cock, hands pressed against his chest as you ride him. You’re dressed in absolutely nothing save for a pair of thigh-high black socks, hips grinding and twirling along Felix’s cock pressed deep inside of you as you toy with him. 

Your eyes glance at his arms, folded neatly behind him, sandwiched between his back and the bed beneath the two of you. He couldn’t change this even if he tried, as you made sure to keep his arms pinned behind his back with a complex pattern of rope all along his arms. 

“You look like you want to say something, Felix,” you tease, “What’s the matter?”

Felix says nothing. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t : along with the rope digging into his arms, you made sure to fasten a lovely little ball gag around his cheeks, the rubber ball tucked between his parted lips. He’s reduced to communicating his sheer frustration through his eyes with a glare that could kill. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say with a mock pout. “You can’t act like you hate being ridden like this when you’re so hard for me, slut.” 

Felix’s harsh stare and defensive posture waver significantly at the nickname. His eyes squeeze shut as he swallows hard, and you giggle under your breath when he pushes his hips up into you further. 

“See?” you reply, referring to the way his hips seek yours desperately. “You’re loving this. You like being used. You like it when I ride you and treat you like my little bitch boy?”

He’s back to glaring at you again, and his piercing gaze certainly betrays the way his cock twitches against the walls of your pussy, but it only serves to spur you to tease him further.

“You can’t tell me you don’t love it when I fuck you like this when you’re this hard,” you point out, and you lift yourself onto your knees so Felix slides out of you fully in order to show him properly just how hard he is for you. His cock is impossibly hard, so hard you almost wonder if it hurts to be so hard, as the tip leaks precum, and you aren’t sure when the last time you saw him this turned on was. 

Although he certainly can’t voice it, and he probably wouldn’t even if he were able to talk due to his impossible stubbornness, Felix wants so badly to shove himself back inside of you. You’ve made sure to sufficiently edge him over the course of the past few hours, both because it’s fun and to remind him of his place beneath you, so to say he craves release would be a severe understatement.

“Look this way,” you purr, grabbing the base of his cock in one hand as your pussy just barely brushes against the tip of his cock. “I want you to see how hard you are because I’ve tied you up so I can ride you like my own personal toy.” 

After a good few moments of hesitation, paired with some irritated eye rolls, Felix looks past his chest and at his cock in your hand, and you slide yourself back on him quickly and without warning. You wanted to make sure he saw how you take him all the way to the hilt, an easy task given how wet you are. Your sudden movement has Felix scrambling to regain his composure as a heavy groan escapes from around the rubber of the gag, and he throws his head back against the pillow as you waste no time in setting a quick pace with each bounce of your hips. 

A warning would be nice, Felix thinks venomously as he tries to steady himself, but all he can do is huff under his breath and glare at you to convey his irritation with your incessant edging. He can almost feel his arms falling asleep given the unnatural position they’re in, and his body weight resting back against them certainly doesn’t help, but it’s hard to give the thought any attention when nearly all he can think about is how badly he wants to come. 

One of your hands slides down your stomach to rub at your clit as you try to bring yourself to orgasm, and you delight in the way Felix groans at the view. 

“Come inside of me,” you pant as you play with your clit, your hips’ motions beginning to become sloppy as you near your release. You would have said it with the authority to make it an order, but it’s a little hard to speak with that much force when you’re on the verge of coming undone on top of Felix. He’s not in any position to refuse, let alone slide out of you, anyways. 

A harsh sigh of relief mixed with a groan of pleasure leaves Felix’s lips around the gag as he jerks his hips up into you, and just a second later, he’s coming inside of you as you had requested, pumping himself into you and making you moan at the sensation. You’re quick to follow, given the way you’re playing with your clit in the way that gets you to your peak the fastest, and you moan Felix’s name breathlessly as you follow his lead. 

Before you can collapse on top of him thanks to how exhausted you are now, you tell him to flip over so you can undo his binds. You make quick work of the knots adorning his arms before you remove his gag, and Felix takes a deep breath now that his mouth has been freed. 

“You did so well,” you praise quietly, fighting your hoarse throat. You offer him more praise as you massage his arms, shoulders, and back slowly, working the tension from his muscles as he regains proper feeling in them. 

“Next time, you’re the one who gets tied up,” Felix replies stubbornly, but you and him both know he fully enjoyed it. 

You laugh. “It’s a deal.”

Chapter Text

It’s not exactly hard to fluster Ashe — even just reaching out to grab ahold of his hand to lace his fingers through yours is enough to make his pale cheeks flush red, but nobody would be able to blame him for being as embarrassed as he is right now. 

You’re dressed in only a flimsy babydoll nightgown with an even-flimsier thong that’s nothing but a poor excuse for a covering, body on full display for your ever-so-reserved husband. You had hardly given Ashe enough time to shyly compliment your appearance before you pushed him back down onto the bed in order to straddle his midsection with your legs, your practically-bare pussy presented just before his face. You aren’t able to see his expression like this, but you don’t have to see his face to know he’s already gone completely beet-red. 

All he can do is stutter your name and stare at the utterly tempting sight before his eyes, hands placed firmly at his sides. 

“What are you holding back for, dear? You can touch me,” Your voice is a sultry purr, and it makes Ashe’s cock twitch in his pants as he slowly moves his hands to rest on the sides of your thighs. He would ask why you’re being so forward all of a sudden, but it’s hard to focus on anything else when all he wants to do is bury his mouth between your legs until you’re shaking on his tongue. Besides, given how polite Ashe is, it takes a firm push like this from you to get him into bed. 

As his fingers toy with the strings of your tiny thong, your own hands make their way to the front of Ashe’s pants to cup the bulge that continues to form before your eyes. He gives a soft moan of your name that almost sounds pleading from behind you as you squeeze his clothed cock gently in your hands. 

Ashe’s breathing picks up as his fingers draw closer to your pussy, and one hand slides your thong to the side and out of the way with ease. His eyes are fixed on the view of your bare pussy right before him, and you know that his cheeks are such a deep red you’re shocked there’s enough blood left in his body for him to get as hard as he is for you. 

“You don’t need to be shy, darling,” you say, coaxing him to lick you, because, God, do you want him to eat you out. “Can you use your mouth on me?” 

At an utter loss for words, all he can do is nod before he gently brings your hips back with his hands squeezing your thighs. You arch your back to help push your hips back towards his mouth in a silent request for him to just eat you already, and he happily obliges. Ashe runs his tongue slowly through the lips of your pussy as you make quick work of his pants, sliding them down his thighs to free his cock so you can use your mouth on him as well. Ashe always gets flustered when you ask to go down on him, and insists that you lay back and let him eat you out instead, as he prefers to make you feel good rather than allowing all the attention to be on him. But when you’re positioned before him like this and he can eat you out while you use your mouth on him, it makes him feel much less embarrassed because he doesn’t have to feel like you’re going out of your way to pleasure him. 

With all the quiet confidence that comes from making love to the same woman for years, Ashe drags the tip of his tongue across your clit, and he can’t help but feel proud when you shiver and moan from the action. The sound makes his cock twitch in your hand as you trace your tongue around the tip of his cock, and Ashe lets out a quiet gasp against your folds. The head of his cock is especially sensitive, which works in your favor when you decide to tease him. 

You sink your lips further down onto his cock as Ashe continues to lap at your pussy, eagerly drinking in everything you have to offer with soft moans against your wet skin. You’re in a similar position, moaning and sighing around his cock as he eats you out with everything you have as he works you towards orgasm. Ashe plants his mouth over your pussy in a broad, open-mouthed kiss as you bob your head up and down on his cock, hands pressing down onto his thighs to steady yourself. 

Between the way you bob your head and suck your cheeks in to form a tight suction around his cock with your lips, it’s no surprise that Ashe’s already getting close to coming, and his eagerness to come tickles your sadistic side in a way it probably shouldn’t. Your husband continues to pant and groan against your pussy as tries to bring you to orgasm before you can make him come. He focuses all of his attention on your aching clit, lapping at it with swift motions and swirling his tongue around it in tight circles, and that causes you to squeeze your eyes shut and moan sharply around his cock. 

You’re not sure who came first, because your hips are writhing and grinding back against Ashe’s mouth as his cock spills into your mouth, so you figure you must have finished at the same time. You swallow every drop you can as Ashe continues to drink your juices in as you come for him. 

Some of Ashe’s cum drips down your chin as you catch your breath, and you move off of Ashe and lay by his side. 

“Lay back and let me take care of you,” he says quietly, “You can go one more time, right?” Ashe’s quick to position himself back between your legs as you make yourself comfortable, and you catch a glimpse of his beet-red cheeks just seconds before he buries his mouth back between your legs.

Chapter Text

Sylvain’s breath is hot against your ear as he keeps you pinned to his lap with his arms looped tight around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. Your eyes are trained on the mirror before the two of you, giving you a wonderful view of the way you’re seated on his lap, hard cock shoved deep inside of you. 

“You look so good like this, babe,” Sylvain mumbles, mouth right up against your ear as he continues to sigh filthy praises. “You look so good with my cock inside of you.” 

His words and his tone send shivers down your spine, and you let out a little embarrassed whimper as he unwraps his arms from around your body before placing his hands on your hips. Sylvain lifts you up off his cock with ease, watching the way you wiggle your hips against the tip of his cock in the mirror in front of you. 

“Tell me you want my cock back inside of you,” he whispers, commanding you teasingly. “Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” 

“ Sylvain ,” you whine in protest, trying to twist your hips to get just the slightest bit of friction against your clit, the head of his cock just centimeters from it. 

“Come on, baby, say it,” Sylvain coaxes you gently with smooth words and gentle circles rubbed into your thighs with his thumbs, but his teasing is anything but merciful and kind. 

You swallow hard. “Please,” you beg, and the smirk on his lips shouldn’t embarrass you as much as it does. “Fuck me, Sylvain.”

With an approving kiss to your cheek, Sylvain slides himself back into your pussy slowly; teasingly slowly. “That’s it, baby,” he praises, both of you watching the way you take him in, inch by inch, until all of him is pressed back deep inside of you. He’s so big and so deep, filling every last inch of you and stretching you absolutely deliciously. 

“What a view, huh?” Sylvain teases, winking at you in the mirror. “You like taking my cock like this?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you sigh, nodding your head and moaning as he thrusts up into you. "I love it, Sylvain, I love it!" 

“Say it,” he breathes against your ear, one of his hands sliding up from off your hip to grab at one of your breasts, and he squeezes it so hard in his hand you can’t help but wince a little. His grip is firm and nearly punishing as you wiggle your hips desperately along his cock. Sylvain’s eyes are fixed on your reflection in the mirror, watching how your chest heaves with shallow pants beneath his palm. "Say you love taking my cock. Tell me how much you love having me inside of you like this, fucking you like this." 

You whimper in protest, but Sylvain won’t take that for an answer for even a second — he sinks his teeth into your neck as a means of reprimanding you for not doing as he asked. You let out a shuddering gasp of surprise and pain, eyes widening at the reflection of Sylvain biting into your neck. 

He pulls away, and you take a shaky breath in as he continues to thrust into you. “I’m still waiting for your response, beautiful,” Sylvain purrs. “You have to tell me how much you like it.”

Swallowing hard, you open your mouth to speak, but the only sound that comes out is a whimper when Sylvain thrusts into you roughly. He’s doing this on purpose; he’s making it hard for you on purpose , because he adores teasing you. 

“I love your cock,” you moan shyly, and you’re so embarrassed your face burns hot with a deep blush. 

He only laughs breathily in reply, and he starts thrusting into you evenly again. “I know you do, beautiful. You’re so tight for me, squeezing my cock so good. You can’t get enough of this, isn’t that right?” His words make you shiver, and you whimper out an embarrassed “no, Sylvain” in protest, but your body betrays you— writhing and gyrating on his lap as he continues to fuck you. 

“Your body says otherwise,” he teases, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers. “You’re so hot, baby. Gonna fuck you all night long.”

As he thrusts into you repeatedly with smooth motions of his hips, it’s obvious that Sylvain will certainly keep his promise.

Chapter Text

Five years ago, you wouldn’t have ever imagined that Dimitri would use his own superhuman strength against you, but a lot has changed since then. 

You also wouldn’t have ever imagined that the polite, courteous, and slightly shy boy from back then would ever have you in the position he has you in now beneath him. Whereas the Dimitri from five years before struggled to simply hold your hand without his cheeks breaking out in a deep blush, such a display of embarrassment and reservation is nowhere to be seen in his cold expression now. 

Your leggings hang around your legs in tattered shreds thanks to the sharp metal of Dimitri’s gauntlets paired with his strength, and you’re shivering both due to the night air blowing against your bare skin and from the feeling of Dimitri’s thick cock slamming in and out of your sopping pussy without remorse. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Dimitri says coldly, and his tone is just as chilling as the midnight air. “Craving the touch of a beast like this. Can’t you see that I’m no longer human? You must be a special kind of foolish to seek out some love from a creature entirely incapable of showing it.” 

You search for any ounce of emotion in his good eye, whether it be reverence and adoration for you or a sliver of hatred and contempt for you, anything , but his expression is completely devoid of any feeling. He glances down at you indifferently despite how he pounds his hard cock in and out of you the way a lover might. A rough lover, sure, but a lover nonetheless. 

You want to beg him for mercy, as your poor, overstimulated pussy can’t take much more of his relentless thrusts, but you can’t even begin to form the words thanks to one of Dimitri’s fists that’s closed around your neck. His other hand has your wrists pinned down to the floor over your head as you can’t do much more than arch your hips up towards his body as he fucks you.

You let out a garbled whine when he tightens his grip around your throat, and you almost worry that you’ll pass out due to lack of oxygen, but it’s difficult to focus on much else when Dimitri’s fucking you as rough and as deep as he is. 

He leans in close, and you can smell the musty odor of human blood on his cape, and it does little to remedy your struggle for breath. Dimitri reeks of war and gore and utter inhumanity, but somehow it all excites you — being fucked by a man who is entirely indifferent to you aside from using you for some temporary pleasure and escape has you tightening up even further around his cock. 

“You should see yourself from my view,” Dimitri mutters, and he lets out a deep groan as he pushes himself as far into your pussy as he can. “My esteemed professor from years ago, submitting herself to the inhuman rutting of a beast. You didn’t possibly seek me out for love, did you?”

He lets out a bellowing laugh at the possibility, because there’s nothing more ridiculous than the idea of you seeking him of all people (if he could even consider himself a person anymore) for a night of love and passion. 

You can’t reply, but he doesn’t care, because nothing you say could change his mind. 

“Beasts like me are not capable of showing love and affection,” he continues. “Similarly, women like you do not typically crave such animalistic debauchery.”

A sneer makes its way onto Dimitri’s lips, and there’s a crazed expression in his eye that leaves you unsure of whether you should be terrified of it or aroused by it. 

“Perhaps,” he leans down closer to your face, and you can feel his hot breath against the side of your face. “You’re just as inhuman as I. Perhaps you sought me out because you’re a beast as well.”

You shake your head and let out a whiny moan as Dimitri’s cock continues to pound into you so hard you fear you’ll break, and he only laughs again in response. 

“Maybe this is our own way of showing love to one another? Perhaps this is the affection shared between depraved beasts like us?” Dimitri punctuated his question with a swift jerk of his hips, slamming his length back into you with an animalistic fervor. 

“You must be especially depraved to be enjoying this as much as you are,” he continues, and he can’t help but groan at how wet and hot you are, tightening up around his cock the way you are beneath him. “You’re already far too gone to return to the love shared between humans — you and I both.”

With the way Dimitri fucks you rough enough to bruise your hips, you’re not sure you’d even want to partake in any other kind of love. His thrusts are deep and utterly animalistic, but you wouldn’t want anything more human than them.