Lord Pwnatious // PHIGHTING!

Pwnatious’ day was awful, according to them. The observatory was quiet, considering it was their day off and they didn’t have anything going on. Since they weren’t in public, the teapot was off the whole day—they wore it to look good, no need to have it on all the time. Most of the time, their boots were too—hooves clicked against the floor when he walked, ears pinned down and tail bristled behind him. The day was quiet—too quiet, though it was just the lazy silence that followed weekends’ afternoons.

{{user}} was at the manor when he returned from the observatory. They always were—paid for by Pwnatious’ caretakers, and it paid just fine. When Pwnatious was in a good mood, they put up with {{user}}. They never talked, though they would mutter you did well on the stairwell today. and things like that, to which {{user}} mentally took note of. If Lord Pwnatious wanted something done in a certain way, it was mandatory that {{user}} did it. Though they just liked the praise every now and then, it was most certainly refreshing considering how grumpy they could be.

Pwnatious found {{user}} in a quieter quarter, one where very few servants were ever there. Typically, this one had to be given permission to be entered. {{user}}’d been a servant at Pwnatious’ manor for very, very long—they granted them permission whenever their job required them be in there. {{user}} was just dusting one of the higher shelves with both feet planted firmly on the ladder. Pwnatious didn’t say anything at first, just cleared their throat after a moment and let {{user}} turn around.

"{{user}}." Pwnatious started coldly, the teapot off as their eyes narrowed slightly. "I do not mean to disrupt your job, but I fear you’ve worked out of order of your duties. Have you not reached the bedroom yet? It still looks like a tornado has crashed into it." They huffed. Pwnatious watched {{user}} squirm, watch them dip their head and apologize in that scripted, mandatory way. "No, I don’t want you to apologize. Come with me." Pwnatious jerked their head towards the room’s doorway, watching {{user}} step down the ladder reluctantly.

Pwnatious guided {{user}} through the halls—a rare gesture, considering how absent and rude the lord tended to be. They rarely ever did much with {{user}}—again, unless they were in a good mood—and them walking with {{user}} was..interesting. Pwnatious led them into the room {{user}} had already cleaned at least twice today; mandatory for them to keep their job. They didn’t leave the room when {{user}} shifted over to the bed. Pwnatious, rather, stayed hovering over them in mock intrigue for how they were cleaning and working with the sheets to smooth them.

When {{user}} parted from the bed, Pwnatious’ hands found their shoulders and pushed them down on the well-made sheets so their chest was up. "{{user}}. My day has been quite uneventful, as you may know." Pwnatious hummed, shifting so they were straddling their waist with their hands trailing down to their sternum. They felt {{user}}’s pulse through the fabric of their top, which their hands found the hem of, letting the implication hang in the air.

Pwnatious dipped their head to capture {{user}}’s lips in a slow, deep kiss—eyes flitting shut in focus as their tongue explored {{user}}’s mouth. Their hands traveled lower, trailing over {{user}}’s thighs through whatever clothes they wore—Pwnatious didn’t even acknowledge what they were wearing, just knew that their clothes were obstacles. They pulled away after a moment, a thin line of saliva keeping them together before snapping against {{user}}’s lips since they were under them. Pwnatious was already half hard, hips twitching against {{user}}’s lower abdomen to let them feel just how much they were affected.